To the Victor goes the Spoils/Continued

Author’s note: Next chapter! Actually, this is a ridiculously long chapter. Why? because somehow the chapter before this one was deleted. I was not thrilled. therefore both chapter 2 & 3 are here. So it's long! At least it's all there. And here we go.

Author’s note: I own nothing. No sex in this chappy, just plot. Drat.

((Chapter #2: Touch Fire))

Perhaps it was the smell of the air that day that gave him first warning. He had been brooding the past few days over what Leviathan had told him. He had reported the crazed demon, but his god’s cryptic answer puzzled him. Fallen.

He had mused over it contently enough at first, but that had soon warped to displeasure, and now to an irritable brooding. His consorts had been sent away, even his newest who was still in need of breaking in. this was important, important to all of hell… and he did not understand.
He rose and paced his quarters again, paused when he felt another presence. The footsteps came a moment later, deep strides, and even, with a slight favoring of the left leg. Exstapis. The door opened, the lead cenobite looked quietly on the prince of hell.

“I come with a gift, to consecrate to Leviathan.”
Topec’s eyes darkened with amusement. “Show him to me.”

Hell knew well that Zipe Topec had no equal in the field of Leviathans sacrifice. He was no longer a hunter, the box no longer called him. Often enough others would give him souls of their own to earn his favor, and pay full homage to their god. The sacrifice was fine, a good specimen with fire in him, he would struggle and try to fight. Topec grabbed the chin and forced the head back sharply to test his reaction to pain.
“He will suffice. You have not come thus to me… in many a summoning.”
Exstapis nodded, his own black eyes were smiling.
“I had to see, if my own work was sufficient.”
“I know better than that.”
“I desired to improve my skill, to hone my slice.”
“…Ah.”

The soul glared at them, but the scent of his fear hung heavily between the two dark disciples. “Why have you come, bearing a gift after this time. Why have you come for me now.” Exstapis closed his eyes.
“All of hell senses your frustration. You have sent your consorts away; have paced in your quarters. Many whisper, and few know.” He opened his eyes again. “What did Leviathan say of the enemy?”

Topec narrowed his eyes and seized the soul by the throat, tossing him upon the desk. “I do not understand what he spoke of. Go to him, ask yourself.” Exstapis did not reply. In his mind he was troubled. Who knew more of the enemy than Topec? Who could interpret the god as well? He was strong, and made in the masters mold. He was cunning, and manipulative, he had to be, he had fought Topec. But the Gods mysteries still eluded him.

“I am troubled.”
“Do not be.”
“I will ask, if that is your consul.”
“It is.”

A ripping sound, the soul struggled, cried out. Topec drew a blade and with a steady hand began. In the distance came the song of the puzzle box, faint but insistent. Exstapis watched the change come over his predecessor, watched how Topec’s eyes darkened, shoulders rose, and fingers clenched in frustration. He felt the chains sing in the back of his mind, urging him on, comforting the other.

“I am summoned. Call back your consorts, they are anxious.”
“I am in no mood.”

Exstapis said nothing to that, there was nothing to say. He turned and left in silence.


The soul was prepared; Topec called out, the god answered. All in the chamber was coated in blackness, when it departed a single bell toll echoed throughout the labyrinth and the soul was gone. Once more alone, and without a task or answers, Topec sat. He wondered briefly over the last heat of hell. It held a relevance that the others did not for him, it was the first season where his own flesh had bred. One of his seed, a demon come into her first time. It was strange… faintly he remembered his own predecessor, a creature so old that he had existed in hell during the great split, when leviathan cast down behemoth. He had seen four generations of his breeding come to pass…
Another sound, something dissonant, something that did not belong. He rose silently; he had not lived as long as he had by rushing into situations. The sound came again. He opened his door, looked about without moving. It was to his left now, and traveling along the engineer’s road.

It hit him, he knew that presence, and he knew the feel, the scent. Kirsty. But that was an impossibility, he had caught her in the end, dedicated her to the god Leviathan. She was gone, but here? It turned westward, following the paths of the north section of hell, the territories that were his.

Anger was quick to rise, too many other matters had been harassing him for his temper to stay cold and ponder. This was an elaborate joke, untactful, as none had dared to bring up his near failure with that soul in centuries. Whoever was responsible would be dealt with, now he would sate his temper by killing the messenger boy.

He followed the side roads, a step behind the presence, waiting for a moment to intersect and maim. The presence eluded him, turned and vanished into the west. Something was wrong, wrong beyond someone’s amusement at his expense. He braced himself and gritted his teeth just as the world was ripped apart around him.


( December 7th 4006. We have captured subject 287 and contained him in section C. basic scans have shone that he is an oxygen breathing life form, Bone bio-dating approximates several hundred years old. He is bafflement to both crew and machinery, myself included to no small extent. He has spoken, and we are unable to translate. His weapons are now in security, there were no casualties in the removal of them until an hour afterward, when 12 of our capture team shut themselves into a depressurizing airlock for unknown reasons. I fear that it has come this far, that we must reach into other realms to find an advantage, but if we can translate his speech he may have much to tell us, and we will observe his motions and habits for now. Report status, incomplete.)

Nara had been working the Bio lab for 15 years, and she had never seen his like before. They had pulled other creatures from other realms, yes. Strange entities with forms and manners that baffled the mind. They had used their stolen skill for improving the training programs of the few humans still holding out. The war was not going well. But this one…

She watched him through the one sided glass, and he watched her back right through it. He would be trouble. He would fight, she could see it from the arch of his neck to the pole straightness of his back. He would give them nothing without blood. Pity, she liked it that way. His eyes were the strangest she had seen, and his mouth twisted into a chilled smile as she drew away from the glass.
The door leading into the room opened and a small B.O.T (basic observance tron) deposited a plate with the test subject’s rations. He ignored its presence entirely, his eyes remaining on her.

When the food was not taken the B.O.T wheeled back out of the room. The lights were dimmed. Go time. With a smile she sat back and pulled out the control keyboard.
“Computer, run program nova, activate under password essil.
“…ESSIL ACTIVATED.”

The room shifted around Topec, warping into a dark tunnel. He was not impressed. A cenobite learns from his mistakes, technology and its tricks would not phase him. He kept his eyes on her. A strange human, too thin, too short, and too simple. She liked pain, not her pain, his. She enjoyed whatever was to happen. But she was not the one who had called him, and his rules were set in stone. But perhaps…as it was not the hands that called… and the circumstances were different, perhaps she could be pulled in as well. Water dripped to his left. A seemingly real path lay before him. No, it was irrelevant, he wanted to see what she would do when he refused to humor her. The wound in his shoulder blade stung.

(December 14th 4006. subject 287 yields poor results. He does not participate in the challenges. He does not respond in the program scenarios, and translation has still not occurred. We have learned that he is stronger in his legs than in his arms, but that is unsubstantial. He is resistant to pain, and disdainful of the lust simulations. Confusing, as we believe him able to breed. That in itself, confusing. Incomplete.)

Nara let her head rest against her arm. It was wearing her down, having those eyes upon her all the time. He knew when she was there, and he watched her through the glass while the simulations ran. Hell, he’d watched her when the erotic simulations ran. And it took all the fun out of the physical tests. It wasn’t as much fun working with a group, (no less than ten was considered safe. Five to hold him until they could force him into the restraints, and another five in case he hurt the first group.
It was physically and mentally exhausting. Ironically she loved a challenge, but this… this was too much. Her eyes dropped and another swig of coffee hardly settled her. The nightmares… the damn nightmares… and the rest… he was not watching her now, his eyes were somewhere else, seeing something she could not see. In the nightmares there was shadow, and a vanilla smell, music, soft and haunting… it beckoned her down the winding hallways of a gigantic maze. There was a treasure at the center, more valuable than anything she owned, and she was seeking it…
Then it was dark, blood, bones, screams, a war, a dream it seemed of all wars, and the whisper of chains against flesh. Suddenly not alone, surrounded, creatures like subject 287. They were watching her, as was he, and he held out his hand like a graven image and whispered mockingly… I am the way.
Ah well, it would be over soon. They did a recycle job with rejects. They would either try to clone him, or they would try to make a new species with his traits. Or they would kill him, it would probably be the last one. Clones were too similar to their original copies to be considered truly safe, and his responses to the lust simulations had not been promising. No. they would just destroy him.

She saw the eyes again, looking deeper into her than she had ever wanted anyone to look. Good riddance.

Topec was uncomfortable. His distance from leviathan was starting to wear him down. They had not attempted to further manipulate him, it seemed, for now, their plan was simply to contain him. He kept his own council, and remained quiet as he suffered. His eyes were not as dark as they should be, a bad sign for any demon. This too would pass, he was studying them, these humans who dared to hold him against his calling. They were weak.

Only one fate ever awaited the weak. He was patient, they would see.

((Chapter #3: Get Burned))

(December 17th 4006)
“You are fools, all of you! Best it would have been to release him after a day! Hell will not forgive this offence! And that one… I don’t know how you’ve held him thus far. The ropes that can hold that creature are yet to be woven.”
“Well, we’ve managed pretty well with titanium bars.” Nara sighed, she had not wanted this. Dr. Mempt was a specialist on most of the off plane realms, and his assessment of the situation was annoying her.
“Titanium? Titanium? You cannot hinder him by metal barriers! He is a cenobite, attacking the mind as much as the body! A shredder of the spirit! And you wonder why the restraining crews are committing suicide all around us? None can touch what he is and bear the knowledge that follows!”
“So what are you suggesting?”
“Have another open the box and release the pestilence from our base, before it destroys us!”
“I don’t think it’s that simple. I say we put him down.”
“Are you mad? That’s been tried before!”
“In what year doctor? According to you, this entity has roamed for perhaps thousands of years. We have technology available now that at points in history could not have been dreamt of.”
“You are a fool, and a dead one at that if this continues. He will not fall by any of our hands, of that I can assure you. And why have you placed him in there?”
“To study firsthand the reaction of subject 287 in combat, since he does not participate in the simulations. Some of the superior officers are still considering cross breeding him. If he does well in this… we’ll see. If not, they want him put down as quickly as possible.”
“Spare us all…”

Nara moved quietly into the darkened room. At the far wall the holding bars were braced against pale flesh. Subject 287 breathed deeply, eyes shut and shoulders slack, asleep. His hands bound before him to the bars, his feet manticled together and to the wall behind him. She studied him for a time, as she had been doing more and more of late, doctor Mempt’s warning running through her mind.
One hand reached out, brushing his cheek between the pins. Onyx eyes opened without blinking and met hers.
“…you are early, doctor Hagasake.”
Nara recoiled, stunned. The clipboard dropped from her hands. It clattered against the metal floor and bounced from its side to settle like a broken bird at her feet. 287 did not follow its fall, his eyes remained on her.
“…you can speak… for how long? And my name…”
“You are wearing identification, are you not. The picture three years too old, and the last name spelled poorly, but hardly illegible.”
“I don’t understand… you haven’t spoken before, and I’ve been watching…”
“From behind the left wall, yes. I have seen you.”

She drew further away, and then stopped, fought to regain her composure. Never let them see you’re afraid, ever. The basics of what they were taught in handling subjects snapped into place. “Then you have a name as well? I apologize for all of this inconvenience…”

“Do you doctor. Do your really. Oh come, honesty is not a costly commodity here between prisoner and keeper. You enjoy it. You enjoy the power, and the pain…” his eyes shut for a moment, then opened, perhaps darker than before. “You want to see… to know. Human desires, so simple.” His head tilted slightly, a quiet acknowledgement. “And you seek now… my name. Why. What significance does it hold for you, except to exchange pleasantries? That is not what you want.” Nara narrowed her eyes, her hands clenched at her sides.
“You don’t want to give me your name? subject 287 is hardly flattering.” He smiled, coldly, his mouth cruel.
“You are not worthy of my name doctor, and I am not for your eyes.” She drew closer, reaching through the bars to touch his cheek again. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled almost into a snarl. She traced the grid lines, followed them up his face to his eye.
“The way you speak is old, and your voice…” her fingers slid down to trace his lips, “…is too deep for your vocal chords to naturally produce…” he watched her with quiet distain as her fingers slid down to the leather collar of his robe. “You don’t respond to the simulations… why? You know we’re testing you, do you think your lack of response will set you free?” Still no reply, the eyes had grown colder. “My fellow staff have decided to test you one last time. Tomorrow, early, they have arranged a battle to test your reflexes and skill. If you refuse to fight then, you will die.” She smiled, “And I know you are weakening my friend, I monitor your vital signs every night, and they have been dropping. You are loosing body weight.” She reached out and poked his side. “And your body temperature is rising.”
He looked at her silently, his breath brushing her face, smelling of Vanilla, and rot. Something wild reared in his eyes, crushing her under it. A roar in the darkness, deep and feral, it swept through her, knocking her to the floor. She screamed, drew away, and still it reached out for her, claws just falling short of her feet as she kicked in a panic. Then it was gone.
287 looked coldly down on her, his expression unreadable. He listened to her pant, scented her fear. She could feel it, almost a mist creeping from him, encircling her, drowning her. She was dreaming again, and the maze was complete. A diamond floated above her, and it was screaming, or was she screaming? And there they were! The eyes! Watching and something sharp clicking… swinging around her… cold, and wet, the ground was wet; the ground was covered in blood. The eyes came closer, the cenobites came closer. He came… those eyes…
Those cold, lifeless eyes…
Eyes…

… …. …. ….

Doctor Mempt looked sadly down at the twisted remains of doctor Hagasake. Around him a crowd of handlers formed, and looked on in unsurprised regret. In his cell subject 287 paid the new arrivals little heed.
Her eyes gazed sightlessly past them; her lips were pressed into a grim line. Blood pooled around her head. Her limbs were contorted, the legs spread as if to kick something away, but the arms… they were reaching, as if to pull something in. Mempt bent down and closed her eyes. “…send for the paramedics.”
“Sir, she’s obviously dead…”
“Regardless, send for them. They should be the ones to remove her.”

The doctor turned to 287, 287 looked quietly back. There was silence in the room.

It was several hours later when Topec was again woken by a sound. His eyes were bleary, and he blinked in vain to restore his perfect sight. The sound came again, muscles tensed, unable to see well but with hearing perfect, sensing someone at his side. The sound came a last time, and he felt his hands slip released to his sides. Confused he stretched, flexed cramped muscles, his gaze rested just beyond the open door. An old mortal, the one from before? Stood and gazed at him in mixed awe and loathing. He stared coldly down upon him, unsure if this too, was but an illusion. “Step down Xipe Topec, you are free.
He stepped down. The Prince of hell turned, looking back at the cell that had thus restrained him. “You must go, leave this place that should never have called you. And go quickly…” he stopped amazed, listening to the cenobite’s laughter. Slowly he began to back away… Topec watched his movements. “You must return to whence you came, for the god calls you, and mortal tethers hold you not. Unwillingly brought, and freely returned, may the doors appear for the retribution of…”

“You have studied the rape of Angelique…” Topec came closer, reached out and sized the mortal's chin. “You would banish me as a petty demon, And expect the God to head you? You presume much, oh man.” Dr. Mempt shivered, his eyes shut as half muttered prayers escaped his lips. Topec chuckled. “Praying.” he leaned closer, so that the pins in his face brushed the doctor’s forehead. “Will he save you?” He watched the mans trembling; then drew away. There came the sound of screams from the hall. Both cenobite and man turned, and waited for absolution.

…. …. …. ….

The return was over as soon as it was begun, the box tempted, the mortal opened it, and they came. It was madness after that, the soul fled, the cenobites pursued. In an effort to distract them he hurled himself into subject 287’s room. That was the end. Check the ship’s security, and you will discover a black spot burned into the memory. Two staff and one subject later appear on the results as, unaccounted for, or, missing.

(Author’s notice: Not necessarily a nice Topec in this chapter, but we must remember what a kick ass villain he really is. Okay, moving on!)