Date: Sat, 27 Apr 2002 18:25:41 -0700 (PDT)
From: NCfan <ngclle@yahoo.com>
Subject: boybands/heir to the darkness 15

Disclaimer: I do not know any of the BSB nor do I claim to know their
orientation.  The following piece of writing is merely a figment of my
imagination.  Also, this story contains content of an adult nature (M/M
situations).  All under 18 are advised to not continue reading.

*********************8

Kevin lay Nick's lithe body on the worn down mattress, careful not to let
his body slip.  In a fit of bitter envy, I quickly pushed his hands away
from Nick and placed myself between them.  I knew I was being brash.  I
knew I seemed like a jealous fiend, but I couldn't help myself.  I was
scared enough as is just seeing Nick's unconscious body on the bed.  His
fair skin exposed to us all, unlike the pale green skin of that body we
found inside that glass case.

"Nick?" My voice wavered until it finally cracked.  "How ya doing?" I
managed.  Kevin tried to push me away from Nick, but I shoved his hands
away again.  I then turned to look at the woman who I knew had the answers.
I gazed at her with nothing but upset eyes, my body aching for some answer
to all this absurdity.

The woman's pale gray eyes stared back at me with something slightly more
than compassion.  She nodded knowingly.  "You come to seek answers from
me," she stated simply.

I nodded quietly.  Kevin and Aj could only verbalize a weak "yes".

The woman's eyes watered, the sadness now showing on her frail body, her
face devoid of happiness.  She gazed at me intensely before speaking . . .

"I shall speak of the beginnings then . . . "  She paused, collecting her
thoughts into something coherent before she began.  "His father named him
Nickolas, just because he thought that name had sounded so elegant, so
polished . . . "  the lady lightly touched her fingertips to Nick's smooth
face.  She sighed.

"Thousands of years ago . . . when neither vampires nor Almans existed, one
man had this incredible knack for the occult.  He dabbled in black magic
and crossed the seas to learn all the wonders of the world, absorbing
information like a dry sponge, yearning for more knowledge.  He was clever
and brilliant.  At the age of 30, he had unraveled many of the mysteries of
the different religions and mysterious forces on Earth.  So full of
knowledge was he that he finally decided to settle in the Misty Mountains,
turning all this knowledge and magic in his head.

He led a secluded life in the Mountains, although rather discontent with
the knowledge.  He began to mess around with them, mixing religion with
magic.  He was eclectic and crazy.  Yet within five years, he had developed
an art far more dangerous than anyone would have ever imagined.  He delved
into the art of the soul and of the body, separating the two and developing
each separately.

With the soul, he learned to materialize it and control it with powers of
another dimension.  With the body, he learned to utilize it without the
need for blood nor oxygen.  Hence, he had created within himself two
fascinating worlds of power and mystery.  By now, he no longer wanted to
remain on the Misty Mountains.  His mind started drifting to his
well-practiced powers and he had descended the Misty Mountains to claim
fortune and glory.

And he did.  He created himself an empire, attracting multiple youths into
his army with the promise that they too would share some knowledge.  Yet no
one was bright enough to master both the art of the soul and the art of the
body.  Hence, he divided his followers into two groups--the Almans
. . . and the vampires.  Each with special, although not mutually
exclusive, powers.  The two groups fought hand in hand to help create the
empire.

Soon, this leader's dream had matured and he was sitting on top of the
world, women flaunting at his feet, yearning for his attention, fawning for
his love.  Yet, none of his love interests were able to produce him a
child, which had baffled him greatly.  He wanted an heir.  He wanted a son.
But no womb was strong enough to nurture one . . .

Until one night, the coldest night of that year, he was blessed with the
seed that would withstand time and grow into a fetus and later an infant
boy.  He named his son Nickolas . . . "

I took in a deep breath, hearing Nick's name being called out in such a
gentle way.  I shared this lady's sentiments.  I too, sighed.  Yet, I was
too awed by the story to interrupt.  The lady continued.

"Nickolas' mother died the moment he was brought out of her womb, unable to
sustain the pain of labor.  Nickolas was placed under my care.  He was
. . . amazing . . . just like his father.  His abilities to command the
forces of nature came intuitively.  But unlike his father, he was at peace
with himself, never once bothering much about leadership and power.  He
much preferred taking quiet strolls in the garden or reading.  This upset
his father greatly.

Yet his father never yelled at him.  The man loved Nickolas to death
despite their differences.  He would allow Nickolas to do anything the
child pleased.  Yet, Nickolas was so easily satisfied with his life.  It
had seemed that everything looked calm and quiet.  Nickolas' father ruled
justly.  And during the night, he and Nickolas would share ideas and
exchange new abilities.  Nickolas had a knack for creation.

But the more Nickolas learned, the less settled the Almans and vampires
were.  Knowing that separately, their powers would not be strong enough to
control Nickolas and his father, they decided to join forces, to oust the
leadership.  They sent Vincent to seduce Nickolas and create a rift between
him and his father.

However, their plan backfired.  Nickolas was edging towards his prime, his
face gentile and absolutely beautiful.  So many women had fallen for him
hard, only to find out that he did not even notice them.  So many men had
wanted him so badly that they shamelessly embarrassed themselves to no end.

And Vincent was no exception.  His job was to seduce Nickolas, but
eventually, he had fallen hard, fighting between his lust and his duty.  He
succeeded in winning Nickolas' heart, making the boy yearn for him and
forget about the empire that was to be handed down to him by his father.
Nickolas was unsuspecting at first, but as time drew near, he felt the
weight of terror on his shoulders.  He had sensed the weariness and
discontent of his father's followers.  And then, Vincent disappeared rather
abruptly one day.  By then, my young Nickolas knew that the time had come,
when the followers would usurp the power of the leader, that he and his
father were fighting a very unforgiving battle.

Nickolas ran to his father that night that Vincent had abandoned him after
taking away his virginity.  He ran back to the castle to plead his case to
his father, to beg his father to run away with him.  That night, the two of
them argued for what seemed like an eternity.  Nickolas knew a way out.
True it was a bit risky, but they had no other choice.  It was them vs an
entire legion of raging followers who feared their powers too much.

But Nickolas father refused to remove himself from the empire he took his
whole lifetime to create.  The two stayed in the hidden chambers of the
palace, blocking out the advances of their followers turned enemy.  They
argued, Nickolas refusing to leave without his father.  They argued to the
wee small hours of the night.  They continued to argue until it was too
late and they could no longer attempt their escape.

The vampires and the Almans had joined forces and stood firmly rooted
outside their chamber.  Nickolas lay kneeled by his father's side in the
cold gloomy chambers, realizing that there was no way out, that they both
would die that night, alone in the cold chambers.  They were to die without
sympathy and without hope.

The vampires and the Almans waited as they slowly drained themselves of
their powers without much to feed on.  In those chambers, Nickolas and his
father waited to die.  They had long discussions in there, which I am
forbidden to reveal, but the discussions were often bitter and depressing.
Just think . . . night after night of endless torture and no hope . . . for
ten years.  They were locked in those chambers with no escape for ten years
. . .

And suddenly, one day, the vampires and the Almans no longer had the
patience to wait. They barged into the chambers and found the two men, the
father laying on the bed, his body already decayed beyond recognition with
nothing but bones left.  And then, there was Nickolas, his body still and
quiet, albeit still alive.

The vampires and Almans were upset by this revelation.  They had spent so
much time ready to destroy the father, only to learn that he had died on
his own, painless, untortured.

So they took it out on Nickolas, who by now, was fighting his own battle.
They took him to the prison chambers and tortured him greedily, making up
for ten years of waiting.  The only people that heard his cries of anguish
were the ones who didn't give a damn.  They cut through his skin with the
bluntest of knives, seeping his wounds with alcohol and salt.  They dragged
his body around the castle grounds, making sure that he was thoroughly
humiliated, that all modesty was gone.  And then, the men took him to their
sleeping quarters, using him to quench their feelings of domination and
lust.

Yet they didn't let him die.  They wanted to prolong his agony as much as
he and his father had made them wait those ten years.  He had no one to
sympathize with.  He transformed from this gentile, elegant heir to a
dirty, haggard prisoner before our eyes.  He lost so much weight, his skin
becoming an unhealthy pale green.  His body became more fragile, more
disposable.  His cries of pain only reached deaf ears.  So many nights, I
had to hold my tears, knowing that I could not help him until he was dead.
I could do him no good until they finally had mercy on him and killed him.

And they finally did . . . after ten years of torture, they killed him in
the most brutal, merciless way they could think of.  They tore his eyelids
off, letting him witness his death to every last second.  They chained him
to the walls in the Armaments room and used every weapon imaginable to
destroy his body.  They seared his skin with fire, mashed every bone in his
body.  They slit his limbs, his abdomen, his chest and then his throat.
And they left him there in the cold room to die by himself.  It took him
five days in that room until he finally let go of his final breath without
anyone to care for him, without anyone to watch.  It was simply pure
silence that accompanied him those last five days.  They took his body and
sealed it in the glass case for all to see.

But the torture was over.  His soul was free.  As good as the Almans were
at stealing soul, they could not destroy them.  So what they did was
confine his soul.  They confined it to a place that would see no living
forms.  They brought it to the edges beyond the Misty Mountains to the
fiery volcano.  There, they linked the soul deep into the hot melting lava,
to be forever tortured by the heat and loneliness.  And there, the soul had
been confined since.  The father's soul was never to be found.  I suspect
that Nickolas had something to do with it.

Soon afterwards, the vampires and the Almans had made a rule.  No vampire
shall have a sexual relationship with an Alman, for if the two were to
create a child, that child would be strong enough to harbor Nickolas' soul,
if he were to ever get a hold of the body.  The rule set a rift between the
two races, and the two races soon grew into disfavor as they began arguing
over the most minute of events.  And now, see what has happened to the two
races.  They virtually try to destroy one another!"

We were all breathless by the magnificent history behind the two races and
none of us could think of anything intelligent to say at first.  I stared
at Nick's face and suddenly felt a pang of jealousy.  I didn't know why
that feeling consumed me.  Maybe it was because he could never belong to
me, because his existence is the crucial link between our two races.  He
was too significant of a person to be able to hide him in my own home, to
keep him away from others.

I looked back to the old lady and finally asked, "so the soul that is now
in his body . . . is that the soul of the Nickolas from thousands of years
ago?"

The lady sighed.  Nick's body was born twenty years ago to the heirs to the
Alman and vampire kingdoms.  When he was born, his soul was new, chaste,
just as his body was.  He grew up, knowing his destiny and fearing that his
body would be used for evil if another soul were to consume it.  He was
afraid that this ancient soul that the Almans and the vampires so
desperately discarded would control him.  I think a lot of it had to do
with this fear that the soul from thousands of years ago would come back to
haunt and take vengeance upon your two races.  I think your Nick, the one
you grew up with, was very concerned about your well-being and wanted to
discard his body before the soul that had lived in pain and loneliness in
the volcanoes would take over his body.

He would have succeeded.  His powers were strong enough to fend off
unwelcomed souls.  But he must have been weakened in some way, to render
his body completely exposed.  Thus, the soul that had been strapped to the
volcano beyond the Misty Mountains had found its way into Nick's body and
began to control his every move, his deepest thoughts.  Once that ancient
soul and the new body clashed, the body started to yield to a new master,
and the memories started to rebuild themselves.  In essence, you are
correct.  The body that you now see harbors the memories of the ancient
Nickolas, not the one that you grew to love."

I cringed and asked, "So you're saying that the Nick that I know . . . our
Nick from the BSB . . . is gone?"  My heart pounded mercilessly.

The lady shook her head.  "Yes. The Nick you know and that child I knew
thousands of years ago . . . are two separate entities, both drawn into the
same body, but both with different memories."

Kevin suddenly spoke up.  "That spirit from thousands of years ago must
have been drawn to Nick's body in some way.  I mean sure, Nick is created
by an Alman and a vampire, but all that torture that he endured in these
past years must have attracted that ancient spirit into his body."

AJ shook his head violently.  "Nuh uh.  I don't want no strange spirit
inside Nick's body.  If anything, it's creepy and uncalled for."

My lips quivered.  "What if . . . what if that soul didn't have a choice.
What if the soul was sucked into Nick's body . . . like a vacuum?"

"Or maybe, the two souls are sharing one body," the lady offered quietly.
"It's a symbiotic relationship."

It was my turn to shake my head in disgust.  I finally looked away from the
others to gaze back at Nick.  But to my shock, his eyes were open, his
expression intent, as if he focused on every word that we said.  "Nick
. . . " I whispered, awed.

Those lavender eyes blinked once to the sound of his name.  Then he turned
his head to face me, smiling gently.  "You're cute!" he remarked, making my
heart skip a beat.  No . . . he's not the Nick I knew.  I felt like crying
my eyes off, but held back.

Nick then looked at the lady and sighed.  "Nana," he called out to her.
The tears flowed freely from her face now as she approached his supine form
and hugged him in one of the most emotional moments I had ever seen.

I started to cry, too.  I didn't cry because of my joy that the nanny and
her ancient child had found each other.  I cried for the loss of my Nick.
I cried for the cherished times we spent together, playing pranks on all
the other guys.  I cried for those erotic nights when he would simply lay
there and expose his neck to me, letting me drink the nectar that flowed
through his veins.  I cried for that night when he placed those fireflies
into my hands and created the most beautiful night for me.  And worse, I
cried for the unspoken promises of love that were lost.  No . . . this
creature was not my Nick.  This soul is not mine to keep.