She was in the shadow of that light house. She shuddered. The girls had spoke of rumors that it had been haunted and she had figured it was just the lair of one of the island residents instead. She had gone there once upon a time searching for a means of escape …

Daphnee shuddered at the memory. Whether a visitor or a permanent resident or now if the place was occupied by something else now. She did not care for she had gone, put her body on the line and came away with nothing.

Had she known she would be this close to that damn light house she would have stayed away but it was up there on the cliff so she did not worry about it. She was unaware of the hidden trail that lead up to it though.

She consulted her map again and shook her head as she looked around. The land marks didn't seem to matching up. Kakumoah had given her a map of his lairs and when he'd likely be at each. It was a catch 22 should she ever have a question for him she figured out he did not lie but remained silent so if she asked the right questions …

Daphnee had one today but knew by coming here she had to open her self up to rape by other residents before getting here and she was going to be raped by him. It was the price of the answer, or non answer in this case. Hopeful her questions would give her some peace of mind, she was confused, had no friends and now had been forbidden to speak about her encounters anyway. Damn Therion … she was cut off and completely on her own.

She couldn't confide in anyone or there would be hell to pay. After last time she had seen hell …

Sighing she put the map away in her backpack and took a drink of water. She took to carrying around another set of clothes rather than scrambling about naked.

It was hot, she wipe her brow and proceeded on. Wearing khaki shorts, hiking boots and a green tank top Daphnee entered into a cove. She wandered inside thinking that she remembered seeing this on the map she then proceed in. The cove was dimly light by the time she got to the end, a finger tucked beneath a wrist guard scratching at her skin. Was the shadows playing tricks on her? Therion! Her heart filled with dread but the bell on the collar she was forced to wear did not jingle, it was not him and she was visibly relieved. That was no trick of shadows there was something down there and it was big? Did she dare investigate though?

She watched but saw no movement. Whatever was down there was not organic she hoped ...

Down underneath the water, Striktor lay motionless. His mind was active, though. He sensed something. Something above was moving around. Not something. Someone. Striktor could not quite explain it, but after his death, his perception of the world was different. AS he lay there, he knew the intruder was alive, unlike himself, whose semblance of life was the result of artifice.
Young. Female.

This spurred his interest. He was aware that there was many human females on the island, but few ventured near this spot. Monsters sometimes drifted by, but he usually had little interest in them. Now this girl.. Perhaps she had seen the outline of his ship. Buried for ages, he was now prepping it and getting it into proper order.
Because of this, he had carefully dug away most of the sand, making the outline of the craft possible to see from above, if the view was especially alert.
It would even be possible to swim out and take a better look, for a strong swimmer.

Striktor had been resting underneath the sand, but now he was awake. If the onlooker would come closer, he would perhaps seek her out. If not, perhaps he should b the one to pursue.

What was that? She wasn't so certain though it was probably nothing the fact that it could be a secret of the island got her considering. It would be risky but she would swim down to have a closer look at whatever it was without going too deep.


She wasn't the best swimmer, she was fair but as soon as she discerned it was nothing she'd surface and be on her way or so was the plan. Before Kakumoah had implied anything she may have avoided looking though Daphnee realized now that she had to take some risks to get ahead here on the island, if she were ever to get to the mainland (for she had yet to suspect that she was no longer on Earth) then she had to discern some secrets.

It was troubling seeing how Therion effectively cut her off from opening up to anyone or thing for that matter without the fear of repercussion. So getting information out of other girls when they could not open up to others would make it less likely that they would share their experiences … not that many spoke with her anyway, though that had not been by choice on her part. She had looked forward to this of course, starting college, getting away from those delusions and having new beginning though now it was pretty much the same.

The delusions were real this time and only Vera probably though she was a little whacked at this stage but that matter was behind them she hoped. She set aside her back page and kicked off her shoes before peeling off her socks.

She experimented by sticking a toe in the water. Being a tropical island the water wasn't so bad so she took of her tank top so she was only in her shorts, bra and that collar she could not remove.

Daphnee dove in to take a closer look, green eyes opened as she made out the outline of something big as she swam towards it.

She probably couldn't hold her breath long enough to get more than a good look at it from above but that was all she intended at least for the moment.

Strikor allowed himself to move, just a little, so that the sand would fall of his face, just enough to allow him to see more clearly. Should someone look at the exact spot he was, the would see a shape, that would remind them of a skull half covered in sand. That was, if they were looking at him at all, an not on his ship.

The ship was still mostly covered by sand, but enough of it had been shifted away that someone taking a better look would clearly see it was not a natural shape. Although the crash long ago and the vagrancies of time had tarnished it, it still retained it's sleek metallic form. An hatch was open, as Striktor had been going in and out, taking inventory of damage and the repairs needed. A few parts he had taken off, now lying on the sand floor.

Striktor did not watch his ship. In death as in life he was familiar with it's every bolt and engine. Instead he was watching the girl.

She swam well, he noted. She was slender and fit, but not too thin. Wearing only shorts and a brasserie to cover her breasts, he had a good view of how her body moved. A living, warm female, caressed by the water. Long, purple hair. He wondered how it would feel, should he touch it. He wondered how her body would feel, should he touch her. He wondered how she would react, where he to touch her. Would she scream? Would she beg? Would she be brave, or would she succumb to fear?

What did her skin feel like? What would she taste like?

Her presence sparked something inside him. His limbs became less rigid. He was preparing to move, to rise.

She did not think anything of the skull, she looked at it but her general sweep of the area didn't associate the skull as just that. This was frigging awesome! Of course the ship had her questioning matters enough, she had sorta figured out some things but never considered other worldly beings coming to Earth. It may not have been too much of a ump for her to consider that she wasn't on Earth but that did not immediately set in.

Swimming closer she didn't have much time before she would have to surface for air but her heart sank when she saw the open hatch. She was hoping that the ship was still sealed, that there was oxygen in there so she could look around in their.

Her caution was replaced with curiosity. She did the next best thing though. Swimming down to the ocean floor she saw that there were things there and it dawn on her that something or someone was still around, the parts were laid out to neatly …

A quick glance over her shoulder expecting something to snatch her, but there was nothing present. So instead she grabs a part to further analyze it on the surface without the need to worry about breathing. She'll toss it back into the water before she goes before it is missed she thinks as she swims to the surface to at least examen the part a little.

She had to be quick about it though, whatever was working on the ship could still be in there and she wanted to be long gone before the part had been noticed as missing. It was a risk but looking for a means of escape always placed her at risk in some way.

Striktor observed the young woman, swimming like and undine. She appeared very interested in the ship. Good. She had some curiosity, some spirit. It looked like she was about to try to enter it, something that would have been risky for someone still needing air, but she seemed to change her mind.

Instead she did something else. Diving down to the bottom of the floor, she gathered up one of the parts Striktor had left, apparently wanting to take it with her to the surface. Clever. He doubted she would b able to divine it's purpose any time soon, but given time and the chance to study it in detail.. perhaps she would learn something, depending on her intelligence and familiarity with technology. It was obviously not something Striktor would allow.

He allowed himself to watch the young girl a little more, too see how her limbs moved in the water, purple hair like a cloud around her head. He watched her turn towards the beach. Then he began to rise, emerging from the sand like a vampire or mummy from their sarcophagus. Then he strode after her, first one long step, then a second.

Daphnee surfaces, gasping for air. Beautiful air that she took a moment to draw into her longs before swimming to land and pulling herself from the water.

OK, so there had to be something down there, probably on the ship right now though she couldn't be certain of this. Just a quick look then she would be on her way before whatever may have been down there noticed her. This was not without risk but she was at the stage where she had little option but to risk to find things out rather than just accepting her fate, and by her estimation becoming a slave …

No, that thought did not appeal to her. She had to do something, try something.

She isn't stupid but the only advanced technology she has seen had been the toys Vera used on her from the labs though those were sexual in nature. She grabs her top, the bell on her collar jingling softly as she moved.

Her green eyes focus on the object in her hands trying to focus on it and understand it better with no luck. She is just about to toss it back to go unaware that something has already notice her and the absence of the part. She turns and ...

.. Striktor's head broke the water. With long steps he had been following her on the floor of the sea, watching her pert butt and slender legs move. Now he had come so far that he was rising over the water level.

His head was a pale skull, wrapped in a soaked bandana. Water ran down his bone coloured skin, out of his deep eye sockets and out of his mouth, half open, displaying fang like canines. As he moved closer, more of him appeared, displaying his chest and upper body. Even if he was not quite clear of the water, it was obvious that his gaunt, skeletal body resembled that of a human, but was too tall.

He did not walk fast, rather it seemed he had all the time in the world. Without breaking stride, he slowly raised his arm, pointing it towards the girl on the beach.

"MINE.", he said, his telepathic ability broadcasting his meaning, making it sound like a ghastly groan from the deepest, coldest abyss, ringing through the head of the listener like an echo.

She knew she had to be quick and couldn't afford to get to entrance with the copper colored object. There was no corrosion on it and Daphnee got the impression that it was new … or a different alloy altogether. That was a frigging alien craft down there and this was a land of sex crazed monsters she had learned. But she does not hear the dripping water rolling off of the creature as it sets about a leisurely pace until their was an explosion in her head, a voice which is quite odd for her to describe.

It's a mental projection and a good one at that for it does not originate in her head but seems to come fro, behind her.

OH, GAWD!

She was going to get raped, she had been resigned for that fate in an attempt to get answers but at least she would get something, even a small scrape of information to compensate her. That may or may not help.

Clay things, demons, plants … skeletons? A psychic skeletons at that it seemed. For a moment it draws a little closer, fear gripping her before there is the realization that it can't be any better than the demons … well, oddly enough one demon was rather helpful if you knew how to go about things.

“I … I … only wanted to take a closer look.”

Hopefully he was referring to the part and not her. If it comes any closer she was going to have to run. An under hand throw sends the object back towards him, the bell on her collar jingling slightly at her movements causing her to wince then look relieved when it stops …

When the bell rings … any time, any place my brother or I will have you. That had not been what he exactly said but if it were to go off and Moloch or Therion or both showed up … she had her hands full with this unknown though she was pretty certain she was going to have to run her. If she could make it into the jungle then maybe she had a shot at hiding. And maybe a snowball had a chance in hell.

Striktor strode forward, seemingly not even minding the object. He cleared the water, droplets falling of him as he rose. He was mostly naked, a red bandana wrapped around his head, some makeshift pieces of armour and a belt with what appeared to be two pistols his only garment. His male member was clearly visible, looking huge and segmented, not unlike a spine. It was not quite erect yet, but he could feel it stir as his eyes feasted on the female on the beach.

Her expression was pure delight for him, her surprise an aphrodisiac. Would she try to run? He thought so.. hoped so. The woods were not that far away. He would enjoy a short chase.

He upped the pace, one long stride enough to bring him from the lapping waves and well onto the dry beach, his clawed toes burrying themselves in the warm sands.


"MINE." He repeated, still holding out his arm, pointing at the girl.

(OOC: Sorry! Posted on the wrong account! Hope it is OK.)

(no problem )

Her green eyes widened, her heart sinking. Logically her mind was screaming at her that she couldn't dodge bullets but maybe the weapons were water logged. He unfortunately made it clear that he was not speaking about the part she had causing her heart to pound against her chest.

Unknowing how she was affecting the thing … was it even alive? She wasn't certain one way or another. She did not over think it, she did not have the luxury of time on her side.

It made it clear that she was wanted, not the part as he took a step forward she raced off toward those woods. She knew that in the past fighting these things had been useless indeed though most would have snuck up, bound her and been done with it.

Well, it was never that quick but this had been the first time she could really act to do anything and knowing that fighting was no good she ran dreading the jingle of the bell with each step. She wanted so much to rip it off her but she could not remove it, damn Therion.

All she could do was raise a hand and cup it trying to muffle the sound and hope that it didn't chime in full … Any time, any where ...

Panicked and frustrated she wasn't even given solitude. She was utterly alone unable to speak about the attacks or even possess the ability to fool herself in that she had got away. Still, all she could do was try.

If she gave up … well, she didn't know what this one had planed though in all but two cases she was made helpless and tortured so she wasn't looking forward to experiencing that. So until she was caught or that bell went off she would have to give it her best attempt.

Striktor watched the young woman run. She was darting towards the jungle, perhaps hoping to find a place to hide. The undead pirate did not afford her much hope. He had no intention of letting her far enough out his eyesight to allow her to hide, and besides, she had some sort of bell that gave away her position. The chase would be fun, though.

As he watched her round little rear move, he felt his old, mortal urges re-appear. His heath, long silent, began to beat, and he felt a rush of the liquid that passed for his blood run through him, making his manhood stir and harden. It rose like a waking creature, stiffened with a bony appearance.

He continued to walk, but he picked up his pace. He would allow the girl to reach the jungle, but he would be right behind her.

"RUN, MORSEL. THEN BE MINE."

He let out something like a guttural laugh, spraying out a lungful of salt water as he did so. His long, snakelike tongue, whipped out, licking his non-existing lips as in anticipation of a meal.

She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, her heart hammering in her chest. Again she was afraid though at least this time she could do something about it rather than already have it upon her. She was terrorized at what he could do for it had not appeared that he was going to be so gentle with her.

That was something that she did not want, another torture session that went on for who knows how long. She hates the bell now about her neck. It had once served as a reminder of her servitude to Vera but now with the alterations that Therion made to it it was more or less a tool for her own enslavement for it was clear that she was fucked over by the demon. Unable to hide effectively and unable to speak of the attacks in fear of repercussions, not against her mind you.

It was close behind her too never leaving out of her sight and never giving her the opportunity to even hide. She runs the bell muffled somewhat though the vibrations of the bell in her hand that rings out.

Green eyes widen. NO! NOT NOW!

But yes, now … tears brim up in her eyes she drops to her knees and slams a fist into the ground in frustration, her perceptions changing. Had she been looking she would have seen the demon getting closer rather than the pirate, at least until the pirate made contact with her.

This wasn't fair. Clearly the deck was already stacked against her but know it was stacked so she had no chance at all.

Chasing his prey, Striktor felt more alive than he had in ages. The girl ran, so energetic, so alive in her terror. Her pulse must be high now, adrenaline rushing through her veins, blood being ushered around in her lithe, living body by a heart beating like the feet of a panicked deer.
Striktor could almost taste her. He longed to feel her smooth, warm skin under his hard hands. He longed to seize her, to grasp her firm little buttocks. He longed to tear of her clothes, wondered how her breast would look, once freed from the wet fabric. He wondered how her eyes would look. Would she keep them shut? Stare at him in terror? In awe?

But before he would know that he would enjoy the hunt.

Yet the chase was cut short. The nubile girl dropped to her knees, screaming something. Her voice sounded frustrated.

The collar. He did not quite know how he knew, but that must be it. The collar. Somehow, the thing had some sort of effect on her. He felt cheated. Something was interfering with his hunt. Yet it would not matter. He would enjoy the warmth of her body. That was all that mattered.

He stopped, standing tall above the prone woman. He reached down, and grabbed hold of her arm, effortlessly lifting her up so her face would be at his level.

"LOOK AT ME, WENCH."

The effect of the bell was short lived once he had touched her and jerked her up.

Look at me, wench!

The words sounded like Therion's but as she did as he complied the bell fell silent and she did not see the demon but the skeletal terror. That spun her into quick action. She only had to submit to that demon and his brother, that was the agreement and while her green eyes went wide filling with the sight of him she kicked at the inside of his knee as she tries to jerk her arm free.

It probably wouldn't work but she had to try something. She wasn't going to just give in to being tortured again and this one looked as if this was going to be unpleasant. So was the demon she had met but Kakumoah was different than what he had appeared. He was still going to rape her of course but she wasn't going to be tortured and could work with him in a degree.

“LET ME GO!” She yanks at her arm with little hope of actually braking free from his grip. Damn Therion. Damn bell. Damn island.