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Kill, Marry, Fuck Chapter 30
Rangavar is going to find the dragon that messed with Arro's mind. He is also ready for answers about the mystery they've uncovered, and won't stop until he finds them.
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If you're looking for a full TF sequence, I recommend clicking here
Rangavar's and Arro's story doesn't end here, but the plot of Kill Marry Fuck concludes. The title itself has become complete. Well, I suppose there's no such thing as marriage in their universe, which was a glaring oversight on my part.
Some Fool: *invents the game Fuck, Marry, Kill*
Me: That honestly just sounds like a to-do list
Kill, Marry, Fuck
Chapter 30
Final
Rangavar pricked an ear at the sound of Arro coming in. He wondered how work had gone. Also, how Arro was feeling after this morning; he’d been a bit worried about fitting into his work clothes.
Rangavar was feeling a bit better himself. Admittedly, he had taken it easy this morning, though. He hadn’t bothered going for a run or anything.
“How was work?” he asked as he attempted to clean the kitchen. He thought that he got all of the mess earlier, but kept finding spots. Maybe he wasn’t really so good at food after all.
“It was fine, actually.” Arro put his house key down on the counter, right in the middle of where Rangavar was cleaning. The Darkal shot him an annoyed look, but Arro wasn’t paying attention, staring off like his thoughts were elsewhere. “It was another boring day, I guess. Oh, I made a new friend. I guess that was sort of nice.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” The Faerian moved past him from the kitchen to the living room, where he flopped heavily on the couch. “I mean, I know it’s really only been one day—unless you count that other weird day, where they just had me do nothing at all—but I have a pretty good feeling about this position. That I might actually like it, I mean.”
“Any position is better when we don’t have to see Jethe,” Rangavar snorted.
“That’s most definitely true.”
“I think I made a friend already, too.” Rangavar decided not to mention that he was more interested in how Kraz could help him. Or at least so far. Kraz didn’t seem like a bad guy or anything; he just wouldn’t shut he fuck up. Although to be fair, Rangavar had also been a bit anxious and in a hurry. But none of that was worth mentioning to Arro, when the fat Faerian would probably just make fun of him for ‘obsessing’ over whatever dark secret the research facility was hiding.
If Kraz could give him any more clues, anything would help at this point. Literally anything. Rangavar had gone from the ‘pissed’ stage to the ‘worried’ stage. Well, he was still pissed actually, but the worry was more important. Why were they stocking up on ways to combat wraiths on a world that wasn’t supposed to have them? The cannons, the capture spheres, the cases—they had all the ingredients.
Except the wraiths.
“How are you feeling?” Arro asked, breaking through his thoughts.
“A lot better.” He gave up on the kitchen and made his way to the couch. He sort of wished they could hang out in the kitchen for once; Arro spent a lot of time on the couch. And he refused to hang outside too much because it ‘made him self-conscious’, as if the neighbors cared.
Arro was sprawled with his back propped on the arm of the couch and one of his legs resting up on the cushions, the mound of fat on his middle spilling off the edge and drooping heavily towards the floor. Rangavar paused in front of him. “How are YOU feeling, after this morning?” He leaned forward and sank his paws into Arro’s soft, sprawling belly.
Arro blushed and clutched his belly. “Uh, a bit better.”
Rangavar kneaded it gently with his paws for a moment before standing back up straight.
“Have I told you how much I appreciate you being okay with the fact that I’m fat?”
“Only every single day.”
Arro blushed again.
“Have I told you how much I appreciate you just existing?” Rangavar was sure he hadn’t mentioned that nearly enough.
Arro hid his flushed cheeks behind his paws.
Rangavar looked from one end of the couch to the other. He wanted to sit, but the tall Faerian stretching across its length practically blocked off the whole thing.
Arro noticed his gaze. “You can sit with me.”
Rangavar snorted. “The entire couch is, uh, occupied.”
Arro’s pale-red scales were now bright red as he began to squirm to sit up. “Oh, sorry—” He pushed on the edges of the couch for leverage, but the weight of his gut hanging over the side of the couch was pulling him off-balance as he struggled. His entire body was heaving back and forth from the motion, the fat rippling and quivering as he squirmed his way up. Rangavar grabbed Arro’s overhanging rolls and helped push them back onto the couch so that he could sit up.
Radiating embarrassment, he grimaced. “I know you’re okay with me being fat and all, but I really do need to go on a diet. There’s a reason they call it a weight ‘problem’. And I know I’ve tried to diet before, and never been really good at it, but this is just…”
Rangavar wished he could say something encouraging, but wasn’t really sure what. He didn’t actually know that much about dieting, except for what he’d observed—which was just that Arro found it incredibly difficult. “Is there something I can do to help?”
The fat Faerian sighed. “Tape my mouth shut until I’m half this size?”
Rolling his eyes, Rangavar carefully sat down beside him now that there was room. “Going to the gym probably helps. You’re great at that.” That seemed like an encouraging thing.
Arro stared off at nothing in particular, a worried expression still on his face. “Yeah. That’s true I guess.”
“And you did diet before, for a few days.”
“It was more like one day. And then I made up for it… and then I, uh, made up for it even more…”
Rangavar leaned over into the side of Arro’s plushy belly. “If you tell me what to do, I’ll help,” he promised. “Except for, um, taping your mouth shut.”
Arro laughed a little. “Yeah. Understandable.” Arro leaned towards him. “How else would I give you kisses?”
“You’re so romantic.”
“I had to wait a REALLY long time to give you kisses,” Arro reminded him. “I have catching up to do.”
“Very true.” Rangavar leaned towards him as well so that their lips touched. Arro was right. They had a lot of catching up to do.
Later, they were curled up on the couch together, Rangavar halfway on Arro’s middle as the Faerian’s length took up the couch from one end to the other. The Darkal was lying on top of his sprawling gut this time, his body wedged slightly between Arro and the couch in a way that he could lay his head on the Faerian’s chest. The TV was on, but neither of them were watching it. Arro was content to just cuddle.
“We should do this every night forever,” said Rangavar as he snuggled deeper.
“Yeah,” said Arro. He would like that.
“I wish I didn’t have to work tomorrow,” the Darkal groaned. “I wish we had more days off that lined up. I’m sure they’re trying to make us miserable on purpose, though.”
“Yeah.”
“The days are so short, anyway. I know in the city, stuff is still open of course, but out here the night comes on really fast, and there’s not really time to do anything after work.”
“Yeah.”
Rangavar picked his head up and looked annoyed. “Are you actually listening or just saying ‘yeah’?”
“Sorry.” Arro tried to look at him, but when he craned his head down that close to his chest, the ring of fat around his neck got in the way. He’d been listening. Although it was also true that he was feeling distracted. “Just thinking about a weird encounter today. I saw that female Darkal.”
Rangavar pricked his ears. “You saw her at the research facility?”
“We uh, talked, actually.” He saw Rangavar’s gaze shift to concern, and quickly added, “It wasn’t anything bad.” In reality, the details were a bit fuzzy, but he was sure it wasn’t.
“What did she say?”
“Uh…”
Rangavar frowned. “Arro, did she mess with your memories again? I’m going to have to go find her. And kick her ass, if I can.”
“I don’t think so,” he said unsurely. He glanced into the room. “Actually, I remember her telling me to say hi to you,” he suddenly recalled.
“To say hi? To me?”
“Yeah. She said it a couple of times, I think.”
Rangavar just looked confused. “I wonder why.”
Arro thought for a moment. She’d wanted something. She’d been so intent on it… “I don’t know. All I remember is her pressuring me to tell you she says hi.” He was annoyed with himself for having his mind tricked again, if that’s what had happened. But he could still remember the conversation, so maybe she hadn’t, even if his thoughts did feel weirdly vague. He was probably just a bit tired. “She seemed really taken by the fact that you’re Glitarian, I think. She kept saying that.”
“Well… I think the reason I got hired was on the basis of that. I guess that’s not too strange,” Rangavar admitted. “I just wish she’d stop messing with your head.”
“I don’t think she messed with it,” he said more certainly this time. The memory was coming back to him more clearly the more he talked about it. “Actually, I remember her telling me to tell you that we talked, but also not to tell anyone else. I mean, that part is sort of strange.”
Rangavar had his brow furrowed.
Arro leaned back and sighed. “I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”
“I highly doubt it’s ‘nothing’ when it comes to the research facility.”
The Faerian shrugged. “I mean, maybe there aren’t really that many Glitarians here, so she was just excited to find another one.”
Rangavar’s ears pricked at that. “Another?”
“Yeah. You.”
“No, I mean… is she Glitarian?” The Darkal suddenly looked even more concerned that before.
Arro thought for a moment. “Oh yeah, I remember her saying that now. She just kept insisting she was saying ‘hi’ over and over again ‘from one Glitarian to another’. I guess that was a little strange, too.”
Rangavar scrambled up into a sitting position.
“What’s wrong?”
The Darkal had stopped looking concerned, and almost looked… angry. He was gritting his teeth, one of his fangs bared. “I think I need to meet this Darkal,” he growled, pushing himself off the couch.
Arro watched passively, unmoving. “What, right now?” he snorted.
Rangavar grimaced. “Yeah. Right now.”
Arro pricked his ears. He’d been joking. “It’s dark out.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Rangavar went for the door. He paused, though, and cast a glance back at Arro. His expression softened again. “Just… I’ll be back as soon as I can be, okay?”
Arro stared at him blankly. “Yeah… okay.” He wasn’t really sure why, but he felt like there was something heavy about Rangavar’s goodbye.
The Darkal gazed at him a second longer, then disappeared out the door.
The sun had set, but on this world, that didn’t mean it was late. Not that Rangavar cared. He leaned heavily against the bars of the transport on either side of him, pressing himself forward so that the wind whipped past his head as it whisked him towards the research facility. It could have been the middle of the night, and he still would have been on his way.
It made sense now why Arro was no longer interested in pursuing the mystery of the research facility. If the Darkal were a Glitarian, then she probably just told him not to care anymore—and then he didn’t care anymore. She wouldn’t have even needed Jethe, or any special abilities of her own. Being female, a Darkal, and Glitarian all at the same time was enough.
Rangavar knew he, himself, should also be treading more carefully. But he also couldn’t just not go—and that clearly hadn’t been intended, either. The female Darkal knew he would immediately come looking for answers when Arro delivered her message. The boxes hadn’t been the bait. Arro had been the bait all along.
He frowned. But then why set him up with the discovery of the boxes? Had that actually been an accident? Doubtful. Maybe they thought that Arro had already told him about the Glitarian, and thought they needed more to lure him in. He mulled it over. That made slightly more sense. They’d fucked up then, accidentally erasing the part of Arro’s memory where they had told him to hand over that info to Rangavar. So, they weren’t infallible. That tiny fact was comforting to remember.
He hopped through the gap in the transport before it even came fully to a halt, hitting the dusty ground already running. The grounds were empty, the building quiet and deserted. Well, not really deserted, he knew. He was counting on that. He was angry at finding out what had really happened to Arro—infuriated, really, and the depths of the research facility, where the Darkal probably lived, was the source. His body pulsed with adrenaline from his anger as he approached. He had a bit of hell to raise.
He strode up to the front door breathing fairly lightly, used to his morning runs. The door was locked, of course. He looked left and right, also stretching out his senses. Nobody was here—well, near enough for him to sense. He was sure Jethe had to be in there somewhere. As well as that Darkal.
Rangavar considered playing with the lock. Then, he decided not to bother. He was full of energy; why use tiny, refined bursts of magic when he could just throw a bunch of it at his problems? Drawing attention didn’t matter, and he was also out of fucks to give.
He threw up his arms towards the door as he stepped forward, feeling magic leave his body as the metal groaned, bowed, and then crumpled. The hinges pulled off the doorframe and the double doors fell inwards. They collapsed deafeningly on the floor, the sound of clattering metal echoing loudly down the empty corridors. There was something oddly satisfying about the destruction, even though Rangavar wasn’t used to much magic. He supposed it was a good thing he’d eaten so much lately, hopefully giving him enough energy to keep him going.
He immediately began to make his way towards that lab where he and Arro had first found the stairs. He was sure there were a dozen better ways to get to the basement behind any of these doors, but heading straight to the point where this all began seemed to make the most sense. In contrast to its normal cheery atmosphere in the light of day, the corridor was cold and ominous, the endless closed, windowless doors he passed feeling almost sinister.
He made it to the door. After a moment of careful consideration, trying to decide whether he wanted to magically pick at the lock, or recklessly waste his energy blowing the door off its hinges… He recklessly blew the door off its hinges. He felt wound up enough to blow up a hundred doors right now. And it wasn’t as if it really mattered, of course, whether he had boundless energy or not: He was planning to meet the Glitarian Darkal, and if she weren’t pleased, no amount of magic would be able to save him.
It wasn’t until he began to descend the stairs that he realized a terrible flaw; he’d forgotten to bring a flashlight. Again. At least he knew that the hallway was long and straight; since there was a set of stairs on this side that went upwards, perhaps the set of stairs that went downwards was all the way at the other end. He hadn’t gotten there before being intercepted by Jethe last time, and unfortunately, Arro hadn’t given him specific details about his little misadventure, so he could only guess. He decided he wouldn’t waste time worrying about it; he’d spend all night searching if he had to. It just seemed like a great place to start. He plunged into the dark, deciding to head in a straight line much like before.
After a while of padding through the dark, his steps faltered when he sensed an aura up ahead. He hadn’t been walking nearly long enough to be farther than he’d gotten last time, but it was almost as if someone were waiting for him.
Or something.
Coming closer, the aura was different than most dragons here. The fur on his wings stood up as he took a guess at what it might be. He stopped carefully in front of the door that it seemed to be radiating from, placing his paws on it, distracted from his mission for a moment. He wanted to know. He needed to know. But this wasn’t a door he wanted to be reckless with. He pressed his magic into the doorknob and wrenched that open instead. At this point, it was mostly the hope that Jethe would have the sole duty of repairing all the stuff he wrecked. The thought was satisfying.
He cautiously pushed on the door. It swung open. He was tentative as he groped around the wall for a switch until the room flooded with light.
It was the same room that he and Arro had stumbled into that night, empty cases lining the edges. Well. Not all of them were so empty anymore. Rangavar peered curiously at one of the cases nearest the door, stepping closer until he was near enough to see the figure inside.
The incredibly pale white dragon inside was facing away from him, in the middle of the container, hugging its knees to its chest, obviously awake. Rangavar couldn’t determine anything from its aura, just as he’d noticed while in the hallway; no thoughts, no emotions, no perceivable gender—absolutely nothing. Everything that usually made up an aura was vague and blank in a way that couldn’t quite be described.
Rangavar felt tempted to put his paws on the glass-like surface and lean in for a closer look, but resisted. Even though the cases were soundproof, he didn’t dare draw attention to himself.
He turned, scanning the room, and saw that most of the cases actually held occupants, all practically identical. Some were asleep, some probably not, and some more transparent than others. That’s why the aura here was so powerful and muddled. There were so many of them.
Rangavar wasn’t really sure what he felt. After all the other revelations in the past couple of days, certainly not surprise.
He noticed that every single case had a shiny new nameplate and ID on their panels. He wondered how long they’d been in here; when they’d arrived; how they’d been transported in without anyone noticing. Especially when anyone able to sense auras would have instantly been able to tell, including Gemian—
Rangavar paused. He suddenly remembered Arro pointing out that the research facility didn’t seem to employ any Gemians.
He turned back to the case—well, he knew it was really a cell—and glanced sadly back at the dragon inside. He checked the nameplate to see an etched word and a picture of a friendly-looking female Gemian. Rangavar looked back up at the dragon before him. The difference between the dragon before him and the Gemian that she used to be was stark.
“I see you found your way back down here.”
Rangavar jumped. The foggy auras of the dragons around him had made it hard to sense anything else. He turned to see Jethe watching him emotionlessly from the doorway. Rangavar wasn’t really surprised about that, either. Of course Jethe would be down here. It would probably have been more surprising if he weren’t.
When Rangavar didn’t say anything, Jethe shifted his eyes to the cell with the dragon that Rangavar had been observing. “For someone so interested in our work, you’ve been very unhelpful.”
“What are you doing to them?” Rangavar growled. “Why are they here?”
Jethe lifted one brow in amusement. “Is that really all you’ve been wanting to know?”
Rangavar paused. He wasn’t really sure what kind of question that was. He knew that Jethe wouldn’t be able to manipulate him, though, so it was safe to talk to him. “What I want is to speak with your boss.” He cast a glance back at the cell. However tempting the mystery may be, the actual reason he had come was still to see if he could help Arro.
Jethe tilted his head at him. Then took several steps forward. Rangavar instinctively flared his wings a little, but in reality, Jethe was physically pretty average. He probably wouldn’t be a threat. Rangavar was still wary as he approached.
Jethe stopped at Rangavar’s side, staring into the cell. Rangavar turned to stare in with him. The former Gemian appeared not notice them, still facing away with her knees to her chest. She was barely transparent at all, as if a regular white dragon were sitting there. Only her misty wings gave away her near incorporeality.
“It was really clever, you know,” Jethe broke the silence. “Carefully crafting the near-lie that all the Gemians on Glitara died. Their families wouldn’t want to see them like this.”
Rangavar stared into the containment cell and offered no comment.
Apparently, this prompted the Faerian to keep talking. “Yet in a way, it’s not really a lie, is it. That’s how you get it around the other species’ ability to detect lies. It sounds like the truth. The creatures here aren’t really dragons anymore. The people they used to be are gone.”
Letting the Darkal’s silence drag out another moment, Jethe reached over to suddenly slap on the glass.
Rangavar startled. “What are you doing! Don’t do that.” The glass was supposed to be soundproof, but still made him uneasy.
Jethe grinned slightly. It wasn’t a friendly grin. “I can tell you’re worried about them being here. Isn’t that what you’ve been worried about this whole time? You and Arro think you’re slick and secretive, but we’ve been paying attention to you two. We know you’ve been searching for answers.” He turned his attention back to the cell. “And since you’re a Glitarian, I’m sure you’ve already figured it out.
Rangavar grimaced slightly. “Okay, even if that’s true, maybe you should re-explain to make sure I have it right.” Jethe was certain that he knew the answer. Thing was… he, uh, didn’t. He did have a few guesses, although none of them quite fit together. He wasn’t sure about any of this. But he wouldn’t give Jethe the satisfaction of admitting he didn’t know.
Jethe only waved his paw dismissively. “If you want to come with me, I’m sure my employer would love to go over it with you. The dragon who runs this facility, that is.”
“Would that happen to be the Darkal Arro mentioned?” Rangavar really didn’t even need an answer. A female Glitarian Darkal wouldn’t allow herself to be anything short of in charge.
Jethe crossed his arms and lifted a brow. “Oh, did he mention that? Took him long enough.”
“You erased his memories,” Rangavar reminded him. “He didn’t know.”
“Hmm I guess his brain just… finds it harder to grasp things…” He smirked at the growl that started to arise in Rangavar’s throat. “Relaaax. I’ll take you to my boss now. If you follow me, that is.”
Rangavar cast another look at the containment cell. Part of him didn’t feel quite done here.
He heard Jethe sigh and reappear at his side. This time, he touched a few things on the control panel, and the soft light inside the cell suddenly brightened. The female picked up her head, ears pricking slightly.
Rangavar instinctively grabbed Jethe by the ridge between his shoulders and pulled both of them back as her head whipped around and she lunged at them. Rangavar flinched at her head smashing into the glass-like substance, her teeth bared and jaws snapping, and the blank, pupil-less stare of her electric blue eyes. The soundproof material absorbed the screeching and screaming as she scrabbled at it with long talons, the special material the only substance created that would be able to contain her form from merely drifting through into the room. And killing them.
Rangavar’s instincts had been to run, but Jethe hadn’t been; pulling Jethe back with him merely halted him and dragged Jethe off balance so that they both fell onto the ground. The Darkal froze and watched the trapped creature scrabble against the glass; the Faerian merely looked annoyed and brushed himself off as he stood up. “Well, I suppose I should feel incredibly honored that in danger, you would have chosen to save me, too.”
Rangavar shakily stood up from the floor, his heart still beating a little hard. “Don’t do that.”
Jethe stood directly in front of the cell with his face inches from the glassy surface, the snarling creature inside still doing its best to absolutely rip him to shreds despite every unsuccessful slash. Jethe held no fear of it; he’d never been face-to-face with one in the wild, never truly grasping their true danger. “If you’ve been snooping around so much, you know that this facility is more than ready to handle wraiths.” He smirked at the one behind the glass. “They pose very little threat.”
Rangavar eyed the cell uncertainly. No one was ever truly ‘ready’, but Jethe would never understand.
“Now, do you want to meet my boss, or not? She’s looking forward to meeting you, as well.”
After another moment, Rangavar finally turned away from the containment cell. He wasn’t really here about wraiths, for once. He was here for Arro. All he wanted right now was to reach an understanding with this Darkal that would get her to leave Arro alone. Regardless of what she did to Rangavar. “Yeah. I do.”
Jethe disappeared through the doorway, and Rangavar readily started after him. After his conversation with Arro, this was really what he’d been expecting. He’d been expecting them to expect him.
He cast one last look at the room of cells behind him, all containing ghostly-pale dragons that hadn’t even noticed his entry. He wasn’t really just feeling angry anymore. He felt sad.
When they stepped into the hallway, there were two other dragons that Rangavar hadn’t noticed until now, their auras also obscured by the overwhelming presence of the captives. They were two tall, muscular Faerians who didn’t speak or acknowledge him in any way as he glanced at them. If they were here to protect Jethe, they needn’t have bothered; Rangavar had no intention of hurting him. Jethe had already agreed to help him. They had an understanding.
After several steps into the hall, Jethe suddenly turned back towards the three of them. He didn’t speak; he gave one of the Faerians a nod.
Rangavar was roughly grabbed from behind, one of the Faerian’s thick arms reaching past his shoulder to clamp his jaws shut and the other arm wrapping around his arms to hold him still. Startled, Rangavar gave him two really good kicks in the shin before the other one leaned over him and he felt a pinch in his neck. Out the corner of his eye, he could see the other Faerian withdrawing a needle. Fuck.
He kicked and thrashed a moment longer, but grew weaker as his vision faded to blackness.
There was bright light beating down on his eyelids. He didn’t want to open them. He didn’t want to move. He could let his thoughts drift in and out of consciousness forever.
…Wait. Wasn’t there something important he was supposed to do?
He stirred slightly, all of his limbs feeling incredibly heavy. He finally opened his eyes and squinted against the light. He saw that he was in a fairly empty room, lying on a cot, with a narrow window on the door across from him. No one seemed to be around. Well, that was probably good.
Flexing his digits and muscles for a few minutes to wake them up, he started to roll over—to realize his right paw was chained to the bed. He stared at it blankly. Well, he wasn’t in pain, and it wasn’t tight or anything. It was awfully inconvenient though, seeing as how he wanted to leave. He supposed that was probably the point.
He’d have to wake up a little more to use his magic. Then he’d get out of here. Screw Jethe. Why even go through the trouble of tricking him? Rangavar had been perfectly willing to follow him. Unless they saw him as a threat, for some reason, although they were presumably on their way to see the female Glitarian Darkal, so Rangavar sure didn’t feel like much of a threat.
He’d been in his own groggy thoughts for a few minutes when the door suddenly opened. Rangavar turned his head. It was Jethe. Of course. It was always Jethe.
“Finally awake?”
Rangavar didn’t reply. It was a stupid question. This was stupid.
“Do you have any idea where you are?”
That question was less stupid, he supposed. “No.”
“Good.” Jethe’s face was emotionless, but internally he seemed incredibly pleased. “That was the idea.”
“Great,” Rangavar croaked out. “What are you going to do to me?”
Jethe frowned. “I told you that I’d give you answers. You can sense I wasn’t lying.”
Right. Sure. That made everything better.
“You don’t seem convinced.”
“You have me chained to a bed in a cell.”
“Cell?” Jethe held out his arms. “This is an employee’s living quarters. You’re being incredibly rude.”
“Is it yours?”
Jethe’s eye twitched. “No.”
Rangavar turned his head away to look at the ceiling again. He was still lying on his back. He didn’t want to talk to Jethe. He was tired of Jethe.
“Pretending I’m not here won’t make me go away.” Jethe was right, of course. Rangavar wished he was wrong. He wished he could go back to being not-awake instead of dealing with this.
Jethe was suddenly at his side and reaching towards him. Instinctively, Rangavar’s free paw shot up to grab the Faerian’s slender wrist before the Faerian touched him. His instinct also was to crush it, but he didn’t have the strength. He only glared at Jethe as the other dragon jerked away. Rangavar didn’t let go.
Jethe’s reaction was to pull back and shout at the door. “Help! Help!”
Rangavar realized his mistake when the two tall Faerians from before both came into the room. He immediately released Jethe’s wrist and shrank away from them. Well, one of his arms was free; whatever they tried to do to him, he’d put up a fight, no matter how weak he still felt.
When he’d released Jethe, though, they didn’t step any closer. However imposing they were, their faces stern, Rangavar could also sense that they were rather impartial to him. The one on the left even felt a bit bored.
Jethe rubbed his wrist and gave Rangavar a dirty look. “You do realize we are trying to help you.”
“You do realize I was WILLINGLY FOLLOWING you before I got jumped,” Rangavar growled in response.
The other dragon snorted. “You didn’t have to see the way to get down here. We don’t need you trying to run off after meeting my boss.”
“I wasn’t intending to.” Jethe would know he wasn’t lying. “I came here TO meet her.” It hadn’t even been about the research facility’s secret, either. It had started with Arro, and the female Glitarian Darkal who had repeatedly messed with his head. She needed to stop doing that.
Still, Jethe didn’t seem impressed with the answer. “Well, you’ll be doing that now.”
As if on cue, the other Faerians approached—Of course Jethe wouldn’t want to just come over himself. Rangavar lay still as the blue Faerian reached over to release his arm. The other Faerian, a red-scaled dragon, stood back several steps, as if they were afraid the Darkal might make a run for it.
That was a nice thought. Rangavar wasn’t really sure he was able to walk yet.
When he slowly twisted on the bed, maneuvering himself into a sitting position, the Faerian apparently decided he was taking too long and grabbed him under the arm, hauling him to his feet. His legs almost buckled, but the other Faerian took his other arm. It was obviously to keep him from bolting, but maybe he should just be thanking them for not letting him fall on his face.
They half-pushed, half-dragged him through the door, Jethe falling in behind them. The hallway outside was just as empty as the rest of the building had been. Rangavar wondered how late it was; he assumed it was probably some time of actual night by now, although he really had no idea how long he’d been out for, so it was hard to guess.
He became more alert and steady as they walked, the silent trio leading him down several turns of the hallway. They kept hold of his arms, still seemingly afraid that he’d run, but Jethe had been right about one thing; he’d have a lot of trouble trying to escape this place without having seen the way down here. This level was more similar to the rest of the building, unlike the one long, straight hallway that he’d previously ended up in. At least this hallway had the lights on, which was a welcome relief. He’d never take lights for granted again.
When Rangavar began to sense an almost dizzying, overwhelming pressure in his head, he knew that they were getting close. The aura was extremely powerful. It could only belong to one dragon. They finally stopped in front of a door, and without much fanfare Jethe calmly pushed it open.
The Darkal was sitting in a chair at the far side of the room, as if sitting behind a desk, although there wasn’t one and didn’t even appear to be any other furniture. There were several other Faerians in the room, watching them enter—although they made no other reaction, really, seeming as uninterested as the other two. It was as if this were just a normal day for them. Just, y’know, bringing in a Darkal prisoner, as usual. Just another average, boring night.
The two Faerians who led him in halted abruptly and pushed him forward, causing him to stumble a step. He studied the Glitarian on the far side of the room, who was clearly doing the same to him. She was sitting up straight, both rosy, gold-tipped wings unfurled behind her over the back of the chair, but one arm was relaxed over one of the armrests, the elongated black talons curling over the front.
She eyed him up and down. She looked curious. Interested. “So you’re Rangavar.”
He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what he could possibly say. She probably already knew everything about him.
“So you’ve already seen what our facility is doing. You already know. So why are you really here?” she finally asked.
Rangavar took a deep breath. He remembered the reason he’d come all this way in the first place. “What did you do to Arro?”
The Darkal across the room smiled. “I just… helped him out a little. Put him in a better mood than he was in when we found him.”
Rangavar glared at her.
She only smiled more smugly and waved her paw. “You know we can’t help it. It’s just how we are.”
He lurched forward, growling. “Manipulating people isn’t righ—” one of the Faerians at his side grabbed him by the ridge between his wings and roughly yanked him back, interrupting.
She leaned forward in the chair, her elbows on the armrests, clasping her paws under her chin. “You surely know by now what we’re doing at this base, so you also know why non-Glitarians wouldn’t understand.”
Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Rangavar was silent a moment. Technically, he didn’t know what was going on for sure. Would it be better if he let her believe that he did? Or would that end up even worse?
She seemed to gather the answer from his pause. She tsked. “Well, I actually thought you might be smart enough to figure it out, but I see I was wrong. Forgive me for thinking more highly of you.”
He clenched his fists at his sides.
She leaned back, her expression smug again as she put one paw up to the side of her chin. “Now, what to do with you?”
“Why don’t you just explain?” he growled. “Make me understand.”
“Hmmm…” She flicked her tail thoughtfully. “What a curious idea. Fine.” She gazed at him expectantly. “What exactly have you learned so far?”
Rangavar continued to glower at her. “I know you’re stockpiling wraith cannons, and I… already saw the containment cells set up down here. What I can’t figure out,” he admitted, “is why. Why would you bring them here?”
“If you know all of that, then why have you ever questioned our need for secrecy?” she raised her brows. “You surely know more than a few reasons why the public wouldn’t understand. Specifically why your companion, Arro, wouldn’t understand, since you seem incredibly worried about him.”
It didn’t answer the question. Rangavar continued to watch her with his ears flat. The Faerians at his sides were still, but he knew he was trapped. Whatever happened to him at this point would be the decision of the Darkal before him.
When he didn’t answer, she sighed. “The atmosphere on Glitara changed our bodies. Leaving Glitara allowed them to change back. Would you really deny all beings the chance to return to a normal life?”
“Releasing wraiths into the public is too dangerous for everyone else. It’s immoral,” Rangavar growled.
She shrugged. “Who said anything about releasing them?”
He paused. “Why all the wraith cannons?”
She waved her paw dismissively. “A precaution. In the case of an accident, we wouldn’t want to be short on them.”
Rangavar was quiet for a long moment. “How many wraiths are here?”
She smirked. “A number you don’t need to worry about. Rangavar,” she changed her tone to mock gentleness, “there’s no need for concern. This place is secure. Everything is under control here.”
He defiantly started to spread his wings a bit, but suddenly the Faerians on either side grabbed each one in an iron grip so hard it hurt.
She suddenly flicked her claws at them. “Release him. He’s not a threat.”
They let go at her command, leaving Rangavar to stumble forwards again.
She finally rose from the chair. “It’s so easy to leave Glitara and forget everything that happened there. Maybe even a relief, for some,” she acknowledged. “Families reunited, blah blah blah. But we can’t just leave everything behind. We can’t just get rid of who we are.” She slowly stepped towards him. “You need to remember who you really are.” She reached out towards the side of his face.
He jerked away again, but the Faerians grabbed him and held him still. He leaned back as far as he could and thrashed against their impossible grip. The Glitarian towered over him, and smiled darkly as she put her paw on the side of his face, her grasp firm enough to hold his head still. She put her thumb under his eyehorn. “And what you really are.”
He felt her magic force its way through him.
He screamed as the bones in his back began to crack.
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If you're looking for a full TF sequence, I recommend clicking here
Rangavar's and Arro's story doesn't end here, but the plot of Kill Marry Fuck concludes. The title itself has become complete. Well, I suppose there's no such thing as marriage in their universe, which was a glaring oversight on my part.
Some Fool: *invents the game Fuck, Marry, Kill*
Me: That honestly just sounds like a to-do list
Kill, Marry, Fuck
Chapter 30
Final
Rangavar pricked an ear at the sound of Arro coming in. He wondered how work had gone. Also, how Arro was feeling after this morning; he’d been a bit worried about fitting into his work clothes.
Rangavar was feeling a bit better himself. Admittedly, he had taken it easy this morning, though. He hadn’t bothered going for a run or anything.
“How was work?” he asked as he attempted to clean the kitchen. He thought that he got all of the mess earlier, but kept finding spots. Maybe he wasn’t really so good at food after all.
“It was fine, actually.” Arro put his house key down on the counter, right in the middle of where Rangavar was cleaning. The Darkal shot him an annoyed look, but Arro wasn’t paying attention, staring off like his thoughts were elsewhere. “It was another boring day, I guess. Oh, I made a new friend. I guess that was sort of nice.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” The Faerian moved past him from the kitchen to the living room, where he flopped heavily on the couch. “I mean, I know it’s really only been one day—unless you count that other weird day, where they just had me do nothing at all—but I have a pretty good feeling about this position. That I might actually like it, I mean.”
“Any position is better when we don’t have to see Jethe,” Rangavar snorted.
“That’s most definitely true.”
“I think I made a friend already, too.” Rangavar decided not to mention that he was more interested in how Kraz could help him. Or at least so far. Kraz didn’t seem like a bad guy or anything; he just wouldn’t shut he fuck up. Although to be fair, Rangavar had also been a bit anxious and in a hurry. But none of that was worth mentioning to Arro, when the fat Faerian would probably just make fun of him for ‘obsessing’ over whatever dark secret the research facility was hiding.
If Kraz could give him any more clues, anything would help at this point. Literally anything. Rangavar had gone from the ‘pissed’ stage to the ‘worried’ stage. Well, he was still pissed actually, but the worry was more important. Why were they stocking up on ways to combat wraiths on a world that wasn’t supposed to have them? The cannons, the capture spheres, the cases—they had all the ingredients.
Except the wraiths.
“How are you feeling?” Arro asked, breaking through his thoughts.
“A lot better.” He gave up on the kitchen and made his way to the couch. He sort of wished they could hang out in the kitchen for once; Arro spent a lot of time on the couch. And he refused to hang outside too much because it ‘made him self-conscious’, as if the neighbors cared.
Arro was sprawled with his back propped on the arm of the couch and one of his legs resting up on the cushions, the mound of fat on his middle spilling off the edge and drooping heavily towards the floor. Rangavar paused in front of him. “How are YOU feeling, after this morning?” He leaned forward and sank his paws into Arro’s soft, sprawling belly.
Arro blushed and clutched his belly. “Uh, a bit better.”
Rangavar kneaded it gently with his paws for a moment before standing back up straight.
“Have I told you how much I appreciate you being okay with the fact that I’m fat?”
“Only every single day.”
Arro blushed again.
“Have I told you how much I appreciate you just existing?” Rangavar was sure he hadn’t mentioned that nearly enough.
Arro hid his flushed cheeks behind his paws.
Rangavar looked from one end of the couch to the other. He wanted to sit, but the tall Faerian stretching across its length practically blocked off the whole thing.
Arro noticed his gaze. “You can sit with me.”
Rangavar snorted. “The entire couch is, uh, occupied.”
Arro’s pale-red scales were now bright red as he began to squirm to sit up. “Oh, sorry—” He pushed on the edges of the couch for leverage, but the weight of his gut hanging over the side of the couch was pulling him off-balance as he struggled. His entire body was heaving back and forth from the motion, the fat rippling and quivering as he squirmed his way up. Rangavar grabbed Arro’s overhanging rolls and helped push them back onto the couch so that he could sit up.
Radiating embarrassment, he grimaced. “I know you’re okay with me being fat and all, but I really do need to go on a diet. There’s a reason they call it a weight ‘problem’. And I know I’ve tried to diet before, and never been really good at it, but this is just…”
Rangavar wished he could say something encouraging, but wasn’t really sure what. He didn’t actually know that much about dieting, except for what he’d observed—which was just that Arro found it incredibly difficult. “Is there something I can do to help?”
The fat Faerian sighed. “Tape my mouth shut until I’m half this size?”
Rolling his eyes, Rangavar carefully sat down beside him now that there was room. “Going to the gym probably helps. You’re great at that.” That seemed like an encouraging thing.
Arro stared off at nothing in particular, a worried expression still on his face. “Yeah. That’s true I guess.”
“And you did diet before, for a few days.”
“It was more like one day. And then I made up for it… and then I, uh, made up for it even more…”
Rangavar leaned over into the side of Arro’s plushy belly. “If you tell me what to do, I’ll help,” he promised. “Except for, um, taping your mouth shut.”
Arro laughed a little. “Yeah. Understandable.” Arro leaned towards him. “How else would I give you kisses?”
“You’re so romantic.”
“I had to wait a REALLY long time to give you kisses,” Arro reminded him. “I have catching up to do.”
“Very true.” Rangavar leaned towards him as well so that their lips touched. Arro was right. They had a lot of catching up to do.
~Later, they were curled up on the couch together, Rangavar halfway on Arro’s middle as the Faerian’s length took up the couch from one end to the other. The Darkal was lying on top of his sprawling gut this time, his body wedged slightly between Arro and the couch in a way that he could lay his head on the Faerian’s chest. The TV was on, but neither of them were watching it. Arro was content to just cuddle.
“We should do this every night forever,” said Rangavar as he snuggled deeper.
“Yeah,” said Arro. He would like that.
“I wish I didn’t have to work tomorrow,” the Darkal groaned. “I wish we had more days off that lined up. I’m sure they’re trying to make us miserable on purpose, though.”
“Yeah.”
“The days are so short, anyway. I know in the city, stuff is still open of course, but out here the night comes on really fast, and there’s not really time to do anything after work.”
“Yeah.”
Rangavar picked his head up and looked annoyed. “Are you actually listening or just saying ‘yeah’?”
“Sorry.” Arro tried to look at him, but when he craned his head down that close to his chest, the ring of fat around his neck got in the way. He’d been listening. Although it was also true that he was feeling distracted. “Just thinking about a weird encounter today. I saw that female Darkal.”
Rangavar pricked his ears. “You saw her at the research facility?”
“We uh, talked, actually.” He saw Rangavar’s gaze shift to concern, and quickly added, “It wasn’t anything bad.” In reality, the details were a bit fuzzy, but he was sure it wasn’t.
“What did she say?”
“Uh…”
Rangavar frowned. “Arro, did she mess with your memories again? I’m going to have to go find her. And kick her ass, if I can.”
“I don’t think so,” he said unsurely. He glanced into the room. “Actually, I remember her telling me to say hi to you,” he suddenly recalled.
“To say hi? To me?”
“Yeah. She said it a couple of times, I think.”
Rangavar just looked confused. “I wonder why.”
Arro thought for a moment. She’d wanted something. She’d been so intent on it… “I don’t know. All I remember is her pressuring me to tell you she says hi.” He was annoyed with himself for having his mind tricked again, if that’s what had happened. But he could still remember the conversation, so maybe she hadn’t, even if his thoughts did feel weirdly vague. He was probably just a bit tired. “She seemed really taken by the fact that you’re Glitarian, I think. She kept saying that.”
“Well… I think the reason I got hired was on the basis of that. I guess that’s not too strange,” Rangavar admitted. “I just wish she’d stop messing with your head.”
“I don’t think she messed with it,” he said more certainly this time. The memory was coming back to him more clearly the more he talked about it. “Actually, I remember her telling me to tell you that we talked, but also not to tell anyone else. I mean, that part is sort of strange.”
Rangavar had his brow furrowed.
Arro leaned back and sighed. “I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”
“I highly doubt it’s ‘nothing’ when it comes to the research facility.”
The Faerian shrugged. “I mean, maybe there aren’t really that many Glitarians here, so she was just excited to find another one.”
Rangavar’s ears pricked at that. “Another?”
“Yeah. You.”
“No, I mean… is she Glitarian?” The Darkal suddenly looked even more concerned that before.
Arro thought for a moment. “Oh yeah, I remember her saying that now. She just kept insisting she was saying ‘hi’ over and over again ‘from one Glitarian to another’. I guess that was a little strange, too.”
Rangavar scrambled up into a sitting position.
“What’s wrong?”
The Darkal had stopped looking concerned, and almost looked… angry. He was gritting his teeth, one of his fangs bared. “I think I need to meet this Darkal,” he growled, pushing himself off the couch.
Arro watched passively, unmoving. “What, right now?” he snorted.
Rangavar grimaced. “Yeah. Right now.”
Arro pricked his ears. He’d been joking. “It’s dark out.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Rangavar went for the door. He paused, though, and cast a glance back at Arro. His expression softened again. “Just… I’ll be back as soon as I can be, okay?”
Arro stared at him blankly. “Yeah… okay.” He wasn’t really sure why, but he felt like there was something heavy about Rangavar’s goodbye.
The Darkal gazed at him a second longer, then disappeared out the door.
~The sun had set, but on this world, that didn’t mean it was late. Not that Rangavar cared. He leaned heavily against the bars of the transport on either side of him, pressing himself forward so that the wind whipped past his head as it whisked him towards the research facility. It could have been the middle of the night, and he still would have been on his way.
It made sense now why Arro was no longer interested in pursuing the mystery of the research facility. If the Darkal were a Glitarian, then she probably just told him not to care anymore—and then he didn’t care anymore. She wouldn’t have even needed Jethe, or any special abilities of her own. Being female, a Darkal, and Glitarian all at the same time was enough.
Rangavar knew he, himself, should also be treading more carefully. But he also couldn’t just not go—and that clearly hadn’t been intended, either. The female Darkal knew he would immediately come looking for answers when Arro delivered her message. The boxes hadn’t been the bait. Arro had been the bait all along.
He frowned. But then why set him up with the discovery of the boxes? Had that actually been an accident? Doubtful. Maybe they thought that Arro had already told him about the Glitarian, and thought they needed more to lure him in. He mulled it over. That made slightly more sense. They’d fucked up then, accidentally erasing the part of Arro’s memory where they had told him to hand over that info to Rangavar. So, they weren’t infallible. That tiny fact was comforting to remember.
He hopped through the gap in the transport before it even came fully to a halt, hitting the dusty ground already running. The grounds were empty, the building quiet and deserted. Well, not really deserted, he knew. He was counting on that. He was angry at finding out what had really happened to Arro—infuriated, really, and the depths of the research facility, where the Darkal probably lived, was the source. His body pulsed with adrenaline from his anger as he approached. He had a bit of hell to raise.
He strode up to the front door breathing fairly lightly, used to his morning runs. The door was locked, of course. He looked left and right, also stretching out his senses. Nobody was here—well, near enough for him to sense. He was sure Jethe had to be in there somewhere. As well as that Darkal.
Rangavar considered playing with the lock. Then, he decided not to bother. He was full of energy; why use tiny, refined bursts of magic when he could just throw a bunch of it at his problems? Drawing attention didn’t matter, and he was also out of fucks to give.
He threw up his arms towards the door as he stepped forward, feeling magic leave his body as the metal groaned, bowed, and then crumpled. The hinges pulled off the doorframe and the double doors fell inwards. They collapsed deafeningly on the floor, the sound of clattering metal echoing loudly down the empty corridors. There was something oddly satisfying about the destruction, even though Rangavar wasn’t used to much magic. He supposed it was a good thing he’d eaten so much lately, hopefully giving him enough energy to keep him going.
He immediately began to make his way towards that lab where he and Arro had first found the stairs. He was sure there were a dozen better ways to get to the basement behind any of these doors, but heading straight to the point where this all began seemed to make the most sense. In contrast to its normal cheery atmosphere in the light of day, the corridor was cold and ominous, the endless closed, windowless doors he passed feeling almost sinister.
He made it to the door. After a moment of careful consideration, trying to decide whether he wanted to magically pick at the lock, or recklessly waste his energy blowing the door off its hinges… He recklessly blew the door off its hinges. He felt wound up enough to blow up a hundred doors right now. And it wasn’t as if it really mattered, of course, whether he had boundless energy or not: He was planning to meet the Glitarian Darkal, and if she weren’t pleased, no amount of magic would be able to save him.
It wasn’t until he began to descend the stairs that he realized a terrible flaw; he’d forgotten to bring a flashlight. Again. At least he knew that the hallway was long and straight; since there was a set of stairs on this side that went upwards, perhaps the set of stairs that went downwards was all the way at the other end. He hadn’t gotten there before being intercepted by Jethe last time, and unfortunately, Arro hadn’t given him specific details about his little misadventure, so he could only guess. He decided he wouldn’t waste time worrying about it; he’d spend all night searching if he had to. It just seemed like a great place to start. He plunged into the dark, deciding to head in a straight line much like before.
After a while of padding through the dark, his steps faltered when he sensed an aura up ahead. He hadn’t been walking nearly long enough to be farther than he’d gotten last time, but it was almost as if someone were waiting for him.
Or something.
Coming closer, the aura was different than most dragons here. The fur on his wings stood up as he took a guess at what it might be. He stopped carefully in front of the door that it seemed to be radiating from, placing his paws on it, distracted from his mission for a moment. He wanted to know. He needed to know. But this wasn’t a door he wanted to be reckless with. He pressed his magic into the doorknob and wrenched that open instead. At this point, it was mostly the hope that Jethe would have the sole duty of repairing all the stuff he wrecked. The thought was satisfying.
He cautiously pushed on the door. It swung open. He was tentative as he groped around the wall for a switch until the room flooded with light.
It was the same room that he and Arro had stumbled into that night, empty cases lining the edges. Well. Not all of them were so empty anymore. Rangavar peered curiously at one of the cases nearest the door, stepping closer until he was near enough to see the figure inside.
The incredibly pale white dragon inside was facing away from him, in the middle of the container, hugging its knees to its chest, obviously awake. Rangavar couldn’t determine anything from its aura, just as he’d noticed while in the hallway; no thoughts, no emotions, no perceivable gender—absolutely nothing. Everything that usually made up an aura was vague and blank in a way that couldn’t quite be described.
Rangavar felt tempted to put his paws on the glass-like surface and lean in for a closer look, but resisted. Even though the cases were soundproof, he didn’t dare draw attention to himself.
He turned, scanning the room, and saw that most of the cases actually held occupants, all practically identical. Some were asleep, some probably not, and some more transparent than others. That’s why the aura here was so powerful and muddled. There were so many of them.
Rangavar wasn’t really sure what he felt. After all the other revelations in the past couple of days, certainly not surprise.
He noticed that every single case had a shiny new nameplate and ID on their panels. He wondered how long they’d been in here; when they’d arrived; how they’d been transported in without anyone noticing. Especially when anyone able to sense auras would have instantly been able to tell, including Gemian—
Rangavar paused. He suddenly remembered Arro pointing out that the research facility didn’t seem to employ any Gemians.
He turned back to the case—well, he knew it was really a cell—and glanced sadly back at the dragon inside. He checked the nameplate to see an etched word and a picture of a friendly-looking female Gemian. Rangavar looked back up at the dragon before him. The difference between the dragon before him and the Gemian that she used to be was stark.
“I see you found your way back down here.”
Rangavar jumped. The foggy auras of the dragons around him had made it hard to sense anything else. He turned to see Jethe watching him emotionlessly from the doorway. Rangavar wasn’t really surprised about that, either. Of course Jethe would be down here. It would probably have been more surprising if he weren’t.
When Rangavar didn’t say anything, Jethe shifted his eyes to the cell with the dragon that Rangavar had been observing. “For someone so interested in our work, you’ve been very unhelpful.”
“What are you doing to them?” Rangavar growled. “Why are they here?”
Jethe lifted one brow in amusement. “Is that really all you’ve been wanting to know?”
Rangavar paused. He wasn’t really sure what kind of question that was. He knew that Jethe wouldn’t be able to manipulate him, though, so it was safe to talk to him. “What I want is to speak with your boss.” He cast a glance back at the cell. However tempting the mystery may be, the actual reason he had come was still to see if he could help Arro.
Jethe tilted his head at him. Then took several steps forward. Rangavar instinctively flared his wings a little, but in reality, Jethe was physically pretty average. He probably wouldn’t be a threat. Rangavar was still wary as he approached.
Jethe stopped at Rangavar’s side, staring into the cell. Rangavar turned to stare in with him. The former Gemian appeared not notice them, still facing away with her knees to her chest. She was barely transparent at all, as if a regular white dragon were sitting there. Only her misty wings gave away her near incorporeality.
“It was really clever, you know,” Jethe broke the silence. “Carefully crafting the near-lie that all the Gemians on Glitara died. Their families wouldn’t want to see them like this.”
Rangavar stared into the containment cell and offered no comment.
Apparently, this prompted the Faerian to keep talking. “Yet in a way, it’s not really a lie, is it. That’s how you get it around the other species’ ability to detect lies. It sounds like the truth. The creatures here aren’t really dragons anymore. The people they used to be are gone.”
Letting the Darkal’s silence drag out another moment, Jethe reached over to suddenly slap on the glass.
Rangavar startled. “What are you doing! Don’t do that.” The glass was supposed to be soundproof, but still made him uneasy.
Jethe grinned slightly. It wasn’t a friendly grin. “I can tell you’re worried about them being here. Isn’t that what you’ve been worried about this whole time? You and Arro think you’re slick and secretive, but we’ve been paying attention to you two. We know you’ve been searching for answers.” He turned his attention back to the cell. “And since you’re a Glitarian, I’m sure you’ve already figured it out.
Rangavar grimaced slightly. “Okay, even if that’s true, maybe you should re-explain to make sure I have it right.” Jethe was certain that he knew the answer. Thing was… he, uh, didn’t. He did have a few guesses, although none of them quite fit together. He wasn’t sure about any of this. But he wouldn’t give Jethe the satisfaction of admitting he didn’t know.
Jethe only waved his paw dismissively. “If you want to come with me, I’m sure my employer would love to go over it with you. The dragon who runs this facility, that is.”
“Would that happen to be the Darkal Arro mentioned?” Rangavar really didn’t even need an answer. A female Glitarian Darkal wouldn’t allow herself to be anything short of in charge.
Jethe crossed his arms and lifted a brow. “Oh, did he mention that? Took him long enough.”
“You erased his memories,” Rangavar reminded him. “He didn’t know.”
“Hmm I guess his brain just… finds it harder to grasp things…” He smirked at the growl that started to arise in Rangavar’s throat. “Relaaax. I’ll take you to my boss now. If you follow me, that is.”
Rangavar cast another look at the containment cell. Part of him didn’t feel quite done here.
He heard Jethe sigh and reappear at his side. This time, he touched a few things on the control panel, and the soft light inside the cell suddenly brightened. The female picked up her head, ears pricking slightly.
Rangavar instinctively grabbed Jethe by the ridge between his shoulders and pulled both of them back as her head whipped around and she lunged at them. Rangavar flinched at her head smashing into the glass-like substance, her teeth bared and jaws snapping, and the blank, pupil-less stare of her electric blue eyes. The soundproof material absorbed the screeching and screaming as she scrabbled at it with long talons, the special material the only substance created that would be able to contain her form from merely drifting through into the room. And killing them.
Rangavar’s instincts had been to run, but Jethe hadn’t been; pulling Jethe back with him merely halted him and dragged Jethe off balance so that they both fell onto the ground. The Darkal froze and watched the trapped creature scrabble against the glass; the Faerian merely looked annoyed and brushed himself off as he stood up. “Well, I suppose I should feel incredibly honored that in danger, you would have chosen to save me, too.”
Rangavar shakily stood up from the floor, his heart still beating a little hard. “Don’t do that.”
Jethe stood directly in front of the cell with his face inches from the glassy surface, the snarling creature inside still doing its best to absolutely rip him to shreds despite every unsuccessful slash. Jethe held no fear of it; he’d never been face-to-face with one in the wild, never truly grasping their true danger. “If you’ve been snooping around so much, you know that this facility is more than ready to handle wraiths.” He smirked at the one behind the glass. “They pose very little threat.”
Rangavar eyed the cell uncertainly. No one was ever truly ‘ready’, but Jethe would never understand.
“Now, do you want to meet my boss, or not? She’s looking forward to meeting you, as well.”
After another moment, Rangavar finally turned away from the containment cell. He wasn’t really here about wraiths, for once. He was here for Arro. All he wanted right now was to reach an understanding with this Darkal that would get her to leave Arro alone. Regardless of what she did to Rangavar. “Yeah. I do.”
Jethe disappeared through the doorway, and Rangavar readily started after him. After his conversation with Arro, this was really what he’d been expecting. He’d been expecting them to expect him.
He cast one last look at the room of cells behind him, all containing ghostly-pale dragons that hadn’t even noticed his entry. He wasn’t really just feeling angry anymore. He felt sad.
When they stepped into the hallway, there were two other dragons that Rangavar hadn’t noticed until now, their auras also obscured by the overwhelming presence of the captives. They were two tall, muscular Faerians who didn’t speak or acknowledge him in any way as he glanced at them. If they were here to protect Jethe, they needn’t have bothered; Rangavar had no intention of hurting him. Jethe had already agreed to help him. They had an understanding.
After several steps into the hall, Jethe suddenly turned back towards the three of them. He didn’t speak; he gave one of the Faerians a nod.
Rangavar was roughly grabbed from behind, one of the Faerian’s thick arms reaching past his shoulder to clamp his jaws shut and the other arm wrapping around his arms to hold him still. Startled, Rangavar gave him two really good kicks in the shin before the other one leaned over him and he felt a pinch in his neck. Out the corner of his eye, he could see the other Faerian withdrawing a needle. Fuck.
He kicked and thrashed a moment longer, but grew weaker as his vision faded to blackness.
~There was bright light beating down on his eyelids. He didn’t want to open them. He didn’t want to move. He could let his thoughts drift in and out of consciousness forever.
…Wait. Wasn’t there something important he was supposed to do?
He stirred slightly, all of his limbs feeling incredibly heavy. He finally opened his eyes and squinted against the light. He saw that he was in a fairly empty room, lying on a cot, with a narrow window on the door across from him. No one seemed to be around. Well, that was probably good.
Flexing his digits and muscles for a few minutes to wake them up, he started to roll over—to realize his right paw was chained to the bed. He stared at it blankly. Well, he wasn’t in pain, and it wasn’t tight or anything. It was awfully inconvenient though, seeing as how he wanted to leave. He supposed that was probably the point.
He’d have to wake up a little more to use his magic. Then he’d get out of here. Screw Jethe. Why even go through the trouble of tricking him? Rangavar had been perfectly willing to follow him. Unless they saw him as a threat, for some reason, although they were presumably on their way to see the female Glitarian Darkal, so Rangavar sure didn’t feel like much of a threat.
He’d been in his own groggy thoughts for a few minutes when the door suddenly opened. Rangavar turned his head. It was Jethe. Of course. It was always Jethe.
“Finally awake?”
Rangavar didn’t reply. It was a stupid question. This was stupid.
“Do you have any idea where you are?”
That question was less stupid, he supposed. “No.”
“Good.” Jethe’s face was emotionless, but internally he seemed incredibly pleased. “That was the idea.”
“Great,” Rangavar croaked out. “What are you going to do to me?”
Jethe frowned. “I told you that I’d give you answers. You can sense I wasn’t lying.”
Right. Sure. That made everything better.
“You don’t seem convinced.”
“You have me chained to a bed in a cell.”
“Cell?” Jethe held out his arms. “This is an employee’s living quarters. You’re being incredibly rude.”
“Is it yours?”
Jethe’s eye twitched. “No.”
Rangavar turned his head away to look at the ceiling again. He was still lying on his back. He didn’t want to talk to Jethe. He was tired of Jethe.
“Pretending I’m not here won’t make me go away.” Jethe was right, of course. Rangavar wished he was wrong. He wished he could go back to being not-awake instead of dealing with this.
Jethe was suddenly at his side and reaching towards him. Instinctively, Rangavar’s free paw shot up to grab the Faerian’s slender wrist before the Faerian touched him. His instinct also was to crush it, but he didn’t have the strength. He only glared at Jethe as the other dragon jerked away. Rangavar didn’t let go.
Jethe’s reaction was to pull back and shout at the door. “Help! Help!”
Rangavar realized his mistake when the two tall Faerians from before both came into the room. He immediately released Jethe’s wrist and shrank away from them. Well, one of his arms was free; whatever they tried to do to him, he’d put up a fight, no matter how weak he still felt.
When he’d released Jethe, though, they didn’t step any closer. However imposing they were, their faces stern, Rangavar could also sense that they were rather impartial to him. The one on the left even felt a bit bored.
Jethe rubbed his wrist and gave Rangavar a dirty look. “You do realize we are trying to help you.”
“You do realize I was WILLINGLY FOLLOWING you before I got jumped,” Rangavar growled in response.
The other dragon snorted. “You didn’t have to see the way to get down here. We don’t need you trying to run off after meeting my boss.”
“I wasn’t intending to.” Jethe would know he wasn’t lying. “I came here TO meet her.” It hadn’t even been about the research facility’s secret, either. It had started with Arro, and the female Glitarian Darkal who had repeatedly messed with his head. She needed to stop doing that.
Still, Jethe didn’t seem impressed with the answer. “Well, you’ll be doing that now.”
As if on cue, the other Faerians approached—Of course Jethe wouldn’t want to just come over himself. Rangavar lay still as the blue Faerian reached over to release his arm. The other Faerian, a red-scaled dragon, stood back several steps, as if they were afraid the Darkal might make a run for it.
That was a nice thought. Rangavar wasn’t really sure he was able to walk yet.
When he slowly twisted on the bed, maneuvering himself into a sitting position, the Faerian apparently decided he was taking too long and grabbed him under the arm, hauling him to his feet. His legs almost buckled, but the other Faerian took his other arm. It was obviously to keep him from bolting, but maybe he should just be thanking them for not letting him fall on his face.
They half-pushed, half-dragged him through the door, Jethe falling in behind them. The hallway outside was just as empty as the rest of the building had been. Rangavar wondered how late it was; he assumed it was probably some time of actual night by now, although he really had no idea how long he’d been out for, so it was hard to guess.
He became more alert and steady as they walked, the silent trio leading him down several turns of the hallway. They kept hold of his arms, still seemingly afraid that he’d run, but Jethe had been right about one thing; he’d have a lot of trouble trying to escape this place without having seen the way down here. This level was more similar to the rest of the building, unlike the one long, straight hallway that he’d previously ended up in. At least this hallway had the lights on, which was a welcome relief. He’d never take lights for granted again.
When Rangavar began to sense an almost dizzying, overwhelming pressure in his head, he knew that they were getting close. The aura was extremely powerful. It could only belong to one dragon. They finally stopped in front of a door, and without much fanfare Jethe calmly pushed it open.
The Darkal was sitting in a chair at the far side of the room, as if sitting behind a desk, although there wasn’t one and didn’t even appear to be any other furniture. There were several other Faerians in the room, watching them enter—although they made no other reaction, really, seeming as uninterested as the other two. It was as if this were just a normal day for them. Just, y’know, bringing in a Darkal prisoner, as usual. Just another average, boring night.
The two Faerians who led him in halted abruptly and pushed him forward, causing him to stumble a step. He studied the Glitarian on the far side of the room, who was clearly doing the same to him. She was sitting up straight, both rosy, gold-tipped wings unfurled behind her over the back of the chair, but one arm was relaxed over one of the armrests, the elongated black talons curling over the front.
She eyed him up and down. She looked curious. Interested. “So you’re Rangavar.”
He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what he could possibly say. She probably already knew everything about him.
“So you’ve already seen what our facility is doing. You already know. So why are you really here?” she finally asked.
Rangavar took a deep breath. He remembered the reason he’d come all this way in the first place. “What did you do to Arro?”
The Darkal across the room smiled. “I just… helped him out a little. Put him in a better mood than he was in when we found him.”
Rangavar glared at her.
She only smiled more smugly and waved her paw. “You know we can’t help it. It’s just how we are.”
He lurched forward, growling. “Manipulating people isn’t righ—” one of the Faerians at his side grabbed him by the ridge between his wings and roughly yanked him back, interrupting.
She leaned forward in the chair, her elbows on the armrests, clasping her paws under her chin. “You surely know by now what we’re doing at this base, so you also know why non-Glitarians wouldn’t understand.”
Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Rangavar was silent a moment. Technically, he didn’t know what was going on for sure. Would it be better if he let her believe that he did? Or would that end up even worse?
She seemed to gather the answer from his pause. She tsked. “Well, I actually thought you might be smart enough to figure it out, but I see I was wrong. Forgive me for thinking more highly of you.”
He clenched his fists at his sides.
She leaned back, her expression smug again as she put one paw up to the side of her chin. “Now, what to do with you?”
“Why don’t you just explain?” he growled. “Make me understand.”
“Hmmm…” She flicked her tail thoughtfully. “What a curious idea. Fine.” She gazed at him expectantly. “What exactly have you learned so far?”
Rangavar continued to glower at her. “I know you’re stockpiling wraith cannons, and I… already saw the containment cells set up down here. What I can’t figure out,” he admitted, “is why. Why would you bring them here?”
“If you know all of that, then why have you ever questioned our need for secrecy?” she raised her brows. “You surely know more than a few reasons why the public wouldn’t understand. Specifically why your companion, Arro, wouldn’t understand, since you seem incredibly worried about him.”
It didn’t answer the question. Rangavar continued to watch her with his ears flat. The Faerians at his sides were still, but he knew he was trapped. Whatever happened to him at this point would be the decision of the Darkal before him.
When he didn’t answer, she sighed. “The atmosphere on Glitara changed our bodies. Leaving Glitara allowed them to change back. Would you really deny all beings the chance to return to a normal life?”
“Releasing wraiths into the public is too dangerous for everyone else. It’s immoral,” Rangavar growled.
She shrugged. “Who said anything about releasing them?”
He paused. “Why all the wraith cannons?”
She waved her paw dismissively. “A precaution. In the case of an accident, we wouldn’t want to be short on them.”
Rangavar was quiet for a long moment. “How many wraiths are here?”
She smirked. “A number you don’t need to worry about. Rangavar,” she changed her tone to mock gentleness, “there’s no need for concern. This place is secure. Everything is under control here.”
He defiantly started to spread his wings a bit, but suddenly the Faerians on either side grabbed each one in an iron grip so hard it hurt.
She suddenly flicked her claws at them. “Release him. He’s not a threat.”
They let go at her command, leaving Rangavar to stumble forwards again.
She finally rose from the chair. “It’s so easy to leave Glitara and forget everything that happened there. Maybe even a relief, for some,” she acknowledged. “Families reunited, blah blah blah. But we can’t just leave everything behind. We can’t just get rid of who we are.” She slowly stepped towards him. “You need to remember who you really are.” She reached out towards the side of his face.
He jerked away again, but the Faerians grabbed him and held him still. He leaned back as far as he could and thrashed against their impossible grip. The Glitarian towered over him, and smiled darkly as she put her paw on the side of his face, her grasp firm enough to hold his head still. She put her thumb under his eyehorn. “And what you really are.”
He felt her magic force its way through him.
He screamed as the bones in his back began to crack.
Category Story / All
Species Dragon (Other)
Size 105 x 120px
File Size 56.8 kB
Listed in Folders
This was such a stellar read. I've kind of said this all already, but, it's just overwhelmingly cute and fat, Rangavar and Arro play off each other so well, and the world building is shockingly compelling for someone like me who rarely reads fantasy. Also, your style is accessible but still has a huge amount of aesthetic character. I still think about the 'We' thing in chapter 12... And this might not be intentional, but I noticed a recurring bit where the two of them comment on how they 'don't want to move ever again' -- the way it comes back after they kiss is very satisfying and adorable. There's a lot more I could fond over, but basically, this story was great company over the past month and I'm very thankful. Pumped to see more of these two one day and to check out your other writing.
It's also pretty funny that the Marry part of the title never happened... It's just 'Kill, Fuck'. Way more efficient imho.
It's also pretty funny that the Marry part of the title never happened... It's just 'Kill, Fuck'. Way more efficient imho.
Thank you so much :) I think this is one of the only "long" stories I've ever finished, so I'm glad that other people enjoyed it. I am going to take a bit of a rest though, hopefully not too long (I have some short stories to possibly post in the meantime.) But yeah, definitely not done with these guys.
Killin' and Fuckin' are all you really need in a relationship :P
Killin' and Fuckin' are all you really need in a relationship :P
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