Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Dark Obsession	By : jracklesfan77 Category: 1 through F > Dark Angel Views: 4878 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Part 2

Ben
exited the Space Needle and made for the city center. The icy
wind whipped at his face, driving the hard, sharp rain into his
skin like a thousand needles. The streets were empty as the gale
force winds battered the weathered buildings.

Turning
onto the street that would lead him to his destination, Ben
caught whiff of a familiar scent. Zack. Why are you following
me? he thought, furrowing his brow. Hunching himself
further, Ben dug his hands deeper into his pockets, lowering his
head and surveying the street from slatted eyes.

You're
no match for me, big brother. Maxie and I could run circles
around you. He was slipping, allowing his inner soldier to
surface and deal with the situation at hand. Escape and
evade, he mused. He would ditch his tail; of that he had no
doubt. But unease settled in his stomach. Why was his brother
following him?

Picking
up his pace, Ben walked briskly down the road. He couldn't let
on to Zack that he was aware of him. It would only draw
suspicion if he ran, and Ben had business to tend to.

He
made a show of strolling casually; occasionally increasing his
speed, at times falling back. He read a Community Center
announcement board, stopped to feed some crumbs to the pigeons
in the park, window-shopped on Madison, and finally entered a
late-night establishment - knowing he would lose his brother in
the swarming scents rolling off the patrons. Sneaking out the
back door, Ben made his way unhindered down 5th Avenue. He
slipped into the shadows once again, eyes never leaving the door
of the church.

| O | O | O |

Ben
crept to the frosted glass window of the magnificent structure
that was Our Lady of The Sacred Heart Church. He pressed close
to the stained-glass panes, peering inside. The vestry was empty
save for a lone figure replacing various religious artifacts in
their respective places.

As
the man turned, his form silhouetted against the wall in the
soft glow from the desk lamp and Ben's breath caught. He was of
medium height and build, with dark skin, hair and eyes, a long aquiline
nose and thin lips. Ben shuddered, thinking how similar the man
looked to an authority figure from his childhood.

| O | O | O |

It
had been two weeks since the escape and Ben was regretting it
already. The escape had been Zack's idea; after Jack had died,
he and Eva had planned the whole thing. The C.O. and SIC
wouldn't risk losing any more of their unit. Their job, in
addition to the depth of their love for the unit mates they
acknowledged as siblings, was to guide and protect above all
else.

The
event was chaos. Lydecker had shot Eva as she tried to protect
Max. The rest just...happened. They'd broken through the
windows, tumbling out into the icy snow. Zack had separated them
all. Krit with Syl, Jondy with Max, Zane with Brin and so on,
leaving him to be paired with his C.O.; with Zack.

He'd
gotten separated from Zack. In the confusion that followed their
desertion of Manticore, guards on snowmobiles chased them,
snipers shot at them and Ben had ducked and blurred through the
dense forest surrounding the compound. He ran until he couldn't
feel his feet, until his bleeding heels brought on the
advancement of wild animals.

His
exhaustion overtook him and he sank to the cold, wet ground as a
pack of wolves prowled towards him and circled his tired body.
They smelled his blood and his fear, and their glowing eyes
never left his frightened face. Ben screamed silently to the
Blue Lady to protect him.

The
next morning when he opened his eyes just slightly and took in
his surroundings, he found himself in a warm bed in a sunlit
room. A glass of milk and a sandwich were on the bedside table.
A man and woman were standing next to him, peering down at him
curiously.

"I
think he's waking up, Marianne," the man said quietly.

The
woman laid a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Shhh, Joe.
He's not fully awake yet. He's had a rough time. Leave him
be."

| O | O | O |

Ben
clenched his hands into a fist as he remembered how he'd
misjudged Joe and Marianne. He'd trusted them, thinking that it
must have been a sign from the Blue Lady. She'd protected him,
saved him from a horrible death; a death he would have been too
tired to fight. She had delivered him to the McCawleys.

There
had been so many things he'd taken as signs that the Blue Lady
meant for him to be with the couple. The McCawleys were
hardworking, lower-class people, but they had faith in the Lady.
They were religious folk, believers; church-going citizens who
took the Good Book seriously.

They'd
accepted Ben into their home, become foster parents to him. They
took an interest in his education and he excelled in his
studies. He was a good worker and a quick learner. Ben was
educated in Bible studies and that was how he came to believe
the McCawleys were fated to be his family. With names like Mary
(Marianne, but close enough) and Joseph, who could dispute what
his Blue Lady was so clearly telling him.

But as
the years passed and he grew older, so did Joe McCawley's carnal
appetite. Just after Ben's 13th birthday, Joe came to him at
night. Came under cover of darkness. Ben knew; deep down inside
he knew, that what Joe forced him to do night after night was wrong.
But the threats kept him quiet; even in his silent agony, the
words spoken softly - menacingly - gripping him like an iron clamp,
and muting the frightened boy's soundless screams.

| O | O | O |

"You
must be brave, son. Our Blessed Lady is testing you. As the Good
Book states: 'Honor thy father and thy mother.' I'm your
father, Ben. I've given you a roof over your head, clothes and
food to warm your belly. You will honor and obey." Joe's
quiet words were delivered in a chilling tone. Ben turned his
head, avoiding his foster father's eyes.

A
stinging slap was delivered and Ben's eyes shot to Joe's face,
gazes locking. "Open your mouth, boy. And swallow this
time."

| O | O | O |

The
torture had gone on for months, until the day Joe wanted even
more. At 15, Ben's young, strong, lean body was developing into hard,
muscular, golden
beauty. He was maturing into a man and Joe made sure to let him
know how much he liked the 'man' Ben was.

That
day Ben finally screamed. A long, piercing shriek of intense
pain, of mental anguish and of primal rage rolled in one. His
Blue Lady could not be so cruel as this.

| O | O | O |

"STOP!"
he cried from beneath the shaking body of his foster father. His
screams fell on deaf ears as the man above him held him down,
hand gripping his tender throat, the other pushing him face-down
on to the bed. "No more! The Lady
wouldn't let this happen! She and Jesus preached of love! Father
Crane said so last Sunday."

Joe
laughed sardonically, as he continued to abuse his foster son.
"Father Crane is a weak man. He has no faith in Our Lady,
not really. He offers platitudes to God and then lies and cheats
like any other human being. He's but a man, Ben. He is not
worthy."

Ben's
eyes were smarting with tears of anger and shame. Anger that
he'd believed in the Lady, in Jesus, in Joe. Shame at his
weakness, his obvious unworthiness of Her love.

"Our
Blessed Virgin cried tears of blood, son. Just as you bleed for
me. It is atonement for your sins." Ben whimpered as his
body was pounded into, punished and violated by his so-called loving father.
"Now take it like a man and...SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

| O | O | O |

He
gagged at the memory, the flashback so vivid that he could taste
the bile in his mouth even now. He'd never told anyone. Not
Zack, not Zane, Alec or Max. His past was his past; no point in
dredging up the pain and humiliation. He had lost faith in the
Blue Lady and simultaneously disregarded his training, the two
things that he had believed in with all his heart.

And
when the 15 year old boy-man had found himself swallowing the
sins of his foster father, he'd snapped.

Joe was
the first man Ben had killed since escaping Manticore. He was
confused. Jesus believed in preservation of life; so why had the
Blue Lady put him in a situation over which he had no power,
nowhere to turn? Why had She hurt him so badly, so deeply
cutting into his soul and ripping at his heart that it caused
him to lose control and take a life?

Dismissing
the thoughts and recollections, Ben focused on the church doors,
patiently waiting for the priest to exit the building.

| O | O | O |

Father
Costanza pulled on his hat and wrapped the thick scarf around
his neck, covering most of his face to block out the cold.
Stepping outside, he locked the large, wooden doors of the
church. He braced himself against the driving wind and rain,
trudging slowly to his car. The street was oddly dark; the
streetlamps extinguished. The cold in the air chilled him to the
bone, yet it wasn't the weather cold. It was the strange, eerie
cold that follows one who knows in his gut that something is
off.

Father
Costanza hadn't wanted a position in Seattle. But the Diocese
sent him there to shepherd his flock, and the priest was a loyal
man. Loyal to the church, loyal to his followers and above all,
loyal to his faith in God. And so he'd settled in to life in
this cold, derelict city.

No
matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape the fears that
gripped him each night as he closed the doors, leaving the
safety of the church behind. "Miguel, believe in the
protection and love of Our Blessed Lady," he muttered to
himself as he walked toward his car.

A
figure came out of the shadows and approached silently. Coming
up alongside Father Costanza, Ben cleared his throat.

"Father?"

The
priest whirled around to face him. "Can I help you,
son?"

"Father,
I know it's late. But I feel..." Ben searched for word that
might help Father Costanza to relax and let down his guard.
"...burdened," he finished.

First
and foremost a man of the cloth, Father Costanza smiled kindly
at Ben. "I'm sorry son. The confessionals are closed till
morning."

Ben
affected a mask of devastation and pain. "Oh. Thank you
anyway, Father." He began to walk away when Costanza's
words reached his ears. Ben smiled knowingly. Priests are so
predictable. Always such do-gooders. So easy. So...mine.

"Son,
maybe I can help you."

He
turned to face the priest, eyes questioning. "Father?"

Father
Costanza motioned to Ben to come closer. "I've already
locked up the church, but my home isn't far. If you like, we can
speak there."

Ben's
satisfaction was overwhelming. "If you're sure it's not an
inconvenience," he replied, lacing his voice with as much
uncertainty as he could muster.

The
priest just smiled and opened the door to his car, urging Ben
inside.

And
so it begins again...

| O | O | O |

Father
Costanza ushered Ben inside. As they removed the outer layers of
clothing, the older man started a fire in the grate and offered
his guest a seat facing the dancing flames.

"Can
I get you a drink, son?" Costanza suggested, offering Ben a
glass.

Ben
nodded. "That'd be great."

Father
Costanza extracted a bottle of whisky and placed it on the
coffee table. Ben reached for the bottle and poured himself a
generous drink. He swirled the liquid in his glass and affected
an air of defeat, waiting for the priest to speak.

"You
seem troubled," Miguel Constanza opened the conversation.

Ben
turned slightly to face the priest. He stared deeply into the
other man's eyes, his brow furrowed and a mask of pain covering
his face. This should do it...

"Do you think there are some things that are...unforgivable?"

Father
Costanza smiled softly. "God's forgiveness is endless,
my son."

Ben
snorted derisively. "That's big of Him."

The
priest looked at Ben thoughtfully. "Don't doubt the Lord. He forgives things that you or I may not
find within ourselves to forgive. It's not easy confessing
your sins...but you feel a lot better after getting them out."
When his guest didn't reply he continued. "Unshared burdens
tend to get heavier."

"Some
things are best left unsaid, Father." Ben took another swig
from his glass and leaned back on the couch.

"Are
you Catholic, my son?" Father Costanza inquired curiously.

"No,
I'm not. But I believe in the Lady." At least I did
once.

The
priest nodded sagely, a soft smile on his lips. "Our
Blessed Lady."

Ben nodded. "The very one."

Father Costanza laid a hand gently on Ben's shoulder. "It might
help you to unburden yourself. Would you like to talk about it?"

Ben's face went slack and his eyes dulled. The priest shuddered
at the look of despair on the younger man's face. "I've killed."

Costanza took a deep, even breath, willing himself not to
shudder in reaction to the cold words. "Go on."

"I've taken human life. What else is there to say?"

Costanza shook his head and clasped Ben's hands in both his own.
"Murder is a grave sin indeed. But killing in self-defense, or to prevent an injustice, like when a policeman or
soldier -"

Ben interrupted quickly. "I'm a soldier. Killing is what I was trained to do."

The priest was beginning to understand the anguish he'd seen in
the young man's eyes, the coldness combined with pain. "It
pains you."

Ben pulled his hands from Father Costanza's grasp and clenched
them into tight fists. He refused to meet the Reverend's eyes.
His voice was anguished as he stated, "Sometimes I feel
She's given up on me."

Father Costanza shook his head vehemently. "No! She never gives up on any of us. We
need to have faith."

Ben replied in a whisper. "I try." I try, I do. But
She fails me. Has forsaken me.

Miguel Costanza spoke with confidence. "We have to put our lives in her hands."

Ben looked at the priest curiously. "Is your life in her
hands, Father?"

Costanza spoke with utter conviction. "She's always
with me."

A smile curved Ben's lips and the priest mistook it for the play
it was. He thought he was winning the confused soldier back over
to the side of Faith.

"So
She protects
you then?"

Costanza smiled broadly. "She's always helping me. I
have the utmost faith in Our Blessed Lady and Jesus Christ our
Lord."

The priest caught the maniacal gleam in Ben's eye as his lips
curled into a sneer and he leered at Father Costanza. "Then you've got nothing to be afraid
of, do you?" Costanza's eyes widened in understanding as
Ben delivered a crippling blow to the priest's head.

| O | O | O |

Ben
stood before the statue of the Lady, peering intently at the
softness the artist had depicted on the stone
effigy. He ran a finger down the side of the piece almost
reverently. She had always been an icon of strength and hope to
Ben until she had forsaken him. While this had bothered him in
the recent past, he no longer lingered on feelings of inadequacy.

Ben
continued to stare at the representation of the Virgin, eyes
darkening in remembrance.

"I
once thought you were the highest power. Then I learned you were
a healer and performer of miracles, and that you birthed Jesus.
I had great faith in you, Blue Lady. How did you repay my faith?
With silence and neglect. You are Judas."

He
pulled out his pocket knife and flicked it open. He nicked her
nose clear off in a deliberate act of desecration, snubbing the
former icon of his faith.

Ben
reached into his pocket and withdrew a roll of cloth. Unwinding
the layers, he spread the bloody rag on the altar. His eyes held
a greedy hunger, his face reflecting pride as picked through the
pile of teeth, still glistening with fresh blood.

He
picked up a single tooth from the pile and flaunted it before
the Blue Lady's face.

"I
leave you one weapon to help you fight them. I know forgiveness
and have granted it to you.
Take
my protection before it's lost forever. This soldier has risen
above you."

He
lay the tooth out before the statue, rewrapped the remaining
ones and slipped them back into his jacket.

TBC
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dark Obsession