Legends of Amacia Heart of Darkness

The darkness of unconsciousness swirled in Hannibal’s brain. Time and place had no meaning to Hannibal as he floated in an ethereal sea of nothingness that robbed him of every sensation. He couldn’t even feel his own body. Only the heinous mocking laughter of the Black Prince echoed through the darkness that imprisoned him. Suddenly, Hannibal jerked and the ethereal sea of oblivion lightened as feeling came to him. The darkness that had swallowed him slowly melted into the lightening twilight one feels between being asleep and awake. As the darkness lightened, he began to feel his extremities along with a throbbing, excruciatingly painful headache bordering on a migraine. A moan escaped his lips as he began feel very strange, not like himself at all. He shook his head slowly from side to side while the twilight lightened further. The sensation of being lost in someone else’s mind and body filled him, a truly alien feeling that challenged his sanity. Then a sharp hideous pain hit, racing up his spine and crashing into his skull.

In an instant, he snapped wide-awake with a gasping groan...his vision blurry. A bright light shined down on him as felt his arms and legs restrained in a spread-eagle fashion on a cold metal table that leaned upwards at a thirty-degree angle. When the sound of his groan reached his ears, he didn’t recognize it. It sounded distinctly feminine; not like his voice at all. The feeling of not being himself and trapped in an alien body tripled as Hannibal felt extra weight on his chest. Moreover, his groin felt strangely vacant and tingly as if something important was missing. After a few moments, his blurry vision cleared, bringing another gasp of horror to his lips when he discovered the why he didn’t feel like himself.

“What the hell,” his melodious feminine voice whispered as Hannibal looked down seeing two moderately large, well-formed breasts on his chest moving as he breathed. The spotlight shining down on him suddenly went out as more lights came up, revealing a mysterious room thirty feet square where his table sat fastened to the floor, with the foot of the leaning table being four feet off the floor. Mirrors covered the walls and ceiling, allowing him to see everything in the room from the table. Hannibal looked up and saw something that caused him to doubt his sanity. He saw the reflection of an attractive nude woman with a lean athletic build, creamy white skin, and moderately large breasts held down to the table by massive block restraints around her wrists and ankles. Long amber hair spilled around the woman’s body, framing her head and brown eyes.

“No…this isn’t possible. I must be dreaming,” Hannibal moaned, closing his eyes as his nerves tingled. “I’m not a woman. I can’t be a woman. I know I’m a man. The Lord made me a man, not a woman.” For a few moments, he kept his eyes closed hoping that he was just dreaming and when he woke, he’d be himself. Yet the eerie sensation of having a woman’s anatomy persisted, particularly down in his groin, which tingled noticeably. Feminine sensations filled his mind, causing it to reel. “That’s not me,” he whispered in denial. “I know what I am. I’m a man, not a woman.”

Finally, he opened his eyes again, only to be greeted by the same sight: a beautiful nude auburn-haired woman securely fastened to a table in the middle of a mirrored cell. Suddenly, he noticed two electrodes stuck to his temples with short antennae and wires connected to a harness of button electrodes placed strategically around his skull. It reminded him of the harnesses used by doctors when they wanted to scan the brain. The sight of the nude female reflection aroused him physically. When he saw the physical evidence of that arousal in the female reflection staring back at him, Hannibal realized something very strange and unprecedented was going on. “Oh, my god,” he whispered in horror. “I’m not dreaming. That’s really me. What in heaven’s name happened to me? How can I now be a woman?” Fear surged, sending a violent icy chill down his spine as he remembered the mutation nightmare.

“Oh, no,” he moaned. “The mutation nightmare…it’s really happening.” Tears started dripping from the clone’s eyes as he started feeling helpless. “It wasn’t just a dream. The nightmare is coming true,” he sobbed softly. “Oh, Lord, what did I do to deserve this? I don’t want to be a woman. I can’t be Selina’s husband if I’m a woman. Why is this happening to me?”

No answer came from Heaven, but a sinister familiar laugh echoed through the mirrored cell: a laugh Hannibal immediate recognized as the Emperor. “Feeling a bit strange there, aren’t you Beowulf?” the Emperor’s voice taunted. A panel opened on the mirrored wall and the Emperor walked in sporting a huge wicked smile.

Hannibal immediately flushed in rage and embarrassment for being completely exposed and helpless before his greatest enemy while trapped inside a cross-gendered body not his own. “Bastard; what did you do to me?” Hannibal railed, not understanding what had transpired.

The Emperor strode boldly up and leaned over Hannibal, slamming one hand down on the table beside his head, trying to startle him; a ploy that didn’t work because of Hannibal’s growing fury. “Why isn’t it obvious?” the Emperor crowed with delight. “I told you earlier. I mean to break you: mind, body, and spirit. To do this, I ripped your mind from your own body and placed it into this girl’s clone avatar with the help of my Cadre and their science. It’s technology from the 1st Age before the Kragonar. How do you think I have survived for over twelve thousand cycles in this grave, human germ?”

Hannibal’s eyes grew wide with astonishment. “What? You use the old technology?” he asked in amazement.

“Of course I do,” the Emperor hissed, leaning down close to Hannibal’s now female clone face, letting him smell his terrible breath that stank of rotting meat. “I use it with great pleasure and impunity in the pursuit of my great cause. I used it on you to show you who the real master is, you who would dare to interfere and stand in the way of my ascension to my rightful station as master of this planet, galaxy, and the universe. Without your power as a man, you cannot possibly stand against me. You’re now mine to do with as I see fit. You will call me master and worship my very shadow or die slowly and most horribly in ways you can’t possibly imagine.”

A violent chill raced down Hannibal’s spine at the Emperor’s words, icy tone, and his rank putrid breath. Yet, Hannibal’s anger boiled like a volcano ready to erupt. Staring coldly into the Emperor’s eyes, Hannibal said slowly and deliberately, “I told you before you committed this heinous inconceivable abomination on me. No one is my master save the Ancient of Days, and nothing is going to change that. I serve only Him out of love, not fear. It doesn’t matter what you do to me or what clone you somehow drag my mind and soul into with your infernal technology. I will not submit to your insanity. I’ll never worship you or call you master and you’ll be forced to kill me.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, my little pussy,” the Emperor chided, not swayed by Hannibal’s outright rejection of his demands. “You enraged me in the throne room with your rebellion. Had you not done that, I may have given you a magnanimous death in the Arena as a man and a warrior. But because you defied and enraged me in front of everyone in my own house, and kept me from my destiny over twelve thousand cycles ago at the Battle of Drakonia, I’ve reserved a very special punishment for your rebellion; a punishment that I warned you that was coming in your dreams long before you set foot into my domain. First, I ripped your conscious mind from your real body using 1st Age Avatar tech, placing it inside the clone avatar of this woman, thereby severing your source of power as a man from your mind and soul. Then I torture you slowly, painfully, intimately while your mind is locked inside that body with the pain and pleasures only a woman can feel.

“Those female pains and pleasures will reduce your rebellious male mind and soul to a quivering gelatinous shell...the sensations of those pains and pleasures of being a female having utterly decimated your male strength, power, and identity. You’ll become lost in that body without any remembrance of ever having being the great Beowulf, much less a man. Once you’re shattered mentally and spiritually not knowing or remembering who or what you are, I’ll return you to your true body and make sport of you in the Arena if I feel generous. On the other hand, I may just slowly lower you into my acid vats feet first, letting it dissolve you inch by inch while you’re still breathing. You dared challenge me again after all these millennia and bring a Lynxian woman back into my domain. For that insolence and defiance of me, I’ll destroy your mind, soul, and body and keep the Lynxian for myself. You should’ve stayed on the surface and awaited my ascension with the rest of your pathetic pestilent species. Now, you’ll suffer like no other half-evolved human ape has ever suffered.”

When the Emperor mentioned taking Selina for himself, Hannibal’s berserker rage boiled over. His male voice temporarily overrode the female clone body he now inhabited as he roared, “Where’s Selina? Where is she, you goddamned malignant demon fuck?”

“She’s my guest in the Harem, and there she will stay until I find a suitable use for that savage fiery beauty,” the Emperor taunted. “It’s been almost thirteen thousand cycles since I’ve been pleasured by a Lynxian female. She’ll serve my will well and if she’s worthy, maybe even bear my heir.” The Emperor leaned down with a sadistic smile on his face, grabbing Hannibal’s clone jaw aggressively and squeezing hard, adding, “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me, Beowulf. She is mine, FOREVER, as soon you will be.” Hannibal groaned in pain at the Emperor’s jaw lock that effectively kept him from speaking.

Hannibal’s rage blossomed as the Emperor let go of his clone jaw. The Emperor’s threat to take Selina enraged Hannibal far more than with his rough handling of the clone girl he now inhabited. Hannibal worked his clone jaw, feeling it pop painfully as his anger rose like a tsunami approaching the shore. “I swear by the throne of the Almighty Ancient of Days...if you so much as touch one hair on Selina’s head, I’ll kill you and send your black demon ass back into the deepest pit of Hell where you’ll have to look up to even see Lucifer’s ass,” Hannibal bellowed vehemently. “I’ll rip your spine out and feed what’s left to the taroks of this land, even if I have to come back from the dead to do it. The Almighty mated Selina and I for eternity long before you dumped my mind into this girl’s clone. We’re one in ways you can’t comprehend. She will not submit to you and would rather die than be mother to your infernal brood. She belongs to me and me alone by her willing choice, not mine, which is reinforced by the Lord’s order and approval of our union. Touch her and I’ll chase you to the ends of the universe and beyond to make you pay for desecrating her. Even death will not stay my vengeance! You leave her out of this. This is between you and me, you foul, festering piece of malignant demon shit!”

Once again, Hannibal’s steadfast refusal to submit along with the malicious cutting insults enraged the Emperor. His face turned crimson with anger and he smashed his clenched fist down on Hannibal’s solar plexus, driving air from Hannibal’s clone lungs. Hannibal coughed and gasped, wheezing from the hit as the Emperor grabbed him by throat, choking his female clone body. “You stupid human shit; I was giving you a chance to yield to me willingly and save yourself unnecessary pain, but you had to again provoke me to my face,” the Emperor raged madly. “No one tells me what I can and can’t do in my own house, especially with my own property which the Lynxian now is, as are you. You’re going to regret having angered me again. I should rip your heart out for that insolence!” He grabbed the clone’s right breast with his other hand and started digging his fingers into it as if he were going to rip it off, creating intense pain for Hannibal.

Despite the Emperor’s brutal chokehold, Hannibal let out a gurgling scream as the Emperor dug his fingers into the clone’s breast, pulling and twisting it. Hannibal writhed in agony, screeching hoarsely as the Emperor tormented the clone. Without warning, the Emperor let go of the breast and relaxed his chokehold slightly, allowing Hannibal to get a bit of air. “No, I won’t rip you apart,” he hissed venomously, glaring into Hannibal’s now glazing eyes. “That’s far too easy, and you won’t learn anything if I simply tear you to pieces. I can’t have you as a martyr.” He leaned down, looking Hannibal in the eye. “You will learn your place, you pestilent little human parasite,” he growled. “I promise you. You will learn your place and know why it’s useless to resist me before I dispose of you. As of now, you’re my property and will do what I say or else.” He let go of the clone’s neck, allowing Hannibal to breathe again.

Gasping and coughing to catch his breath, Hannibal asked with great hate, “Or else...what, you...malignant demon sow?” Spit drooled from the corners of Hannibal’s clone mouth has he slowly caught his breath.

The Emperor’s face grew red again, his face now contorting and twisting into the ghostly visage of the Black Prince. He slapped Hannibal viciously across the face, bloodying the clone’s nose and lip. “You still refuse to submit,” the Emperor snarled, showing his fangs that appeared to grow before Hannibal’s eyes. “I will break you of that, I promise you. Now listen closely, you stubborn piece of tarok shit...as of now, your ass, as well as everything else belongs to me. I will do what I want with you when I want, and there’s not a thing in Heaven, Hell, the Void, or Abyss that can save you. If I wanted to, I could have you cooked alive and served on my table as the main course. I have no qualms about eating you lowly humans. I do it all the time. You foul stupid humans are nothing but food by-products to me, and a pestilence that should have never been introduced into this multiverse. Your kind is nothing but a viral contagion on the multiverse and I’m the cure.

“On the other hand, maybe I’ll remove your arms and legs while you still breathe and mount your sorry ass alive and naked on a wall as a trophy and slave doll I can defile at my leisure. But I won’t let you die. I’ve done that before too. I have numerous trophies of my conquests hanging helpless and alive on my wall for my amusement. Still another option is for you to be breeding stock like all the other human women I’ve taken for myself. Yes, you’re now nothing but a pussy and a pair of breasts here to service my needs in whatever manner I see fit, whether it be in the bed or on the table as the main course. You can’t escape it or me. If I wanted, I could rape you right here and now, and there’s not a thing you or your brainless impotent worthless god can do about it, bitch. What do you say to that?”

“Of course you can, you sick fuck,” Hannibal replied icily, “I know you’re more than capable of doing everything you said and more, but that’s only if the Lord God allows it. You’re still restrained by His will, as we all are who inhabit this particular universe He created, and you damned well know it. But I do know one thing. My immortal soul belongs to the Lord my God, the Almighty and merciful Ancient of Days. My soul lies in His mighty hand and you can’t touch it, no matter how powerful or fast you may be. Yes, you have the power to torture and destroy my physical body in ways I’m sure I can’t comprehend, but you can’t lay a finger on my soul without His okay. The Lord won’t let you take it. I surrendered it to him long ago. It belongs to Him, not you, you lousy fucking demon shit.”

“How dare you say such things in my presence! Your impotent idiot god will not save you from me!” the Emperor screamed, his spittle spraying in Hannibal’s female clone face. “He has forsaken you! If that lousy chicken-shit of a god really cared for you, He wouldn’t have allowed you to fall into my hands knowing what I have in store for you. What kind of lousy brain-dead god would allow one of his prized sheep to be taken by the greatest wolf of all? He knows He cannot stop me and neither can you. I am the incarnation of the deepest Darkness of the Abyss. No light can defeat or destroy me. You are mine, FOREVER! You will regret having betrayed the Darkness. Now you’ll pay for your treason against us, and I think I know how to start making you pay, you treacherous worthless human shit.” A truly demoniac smile crept across his face as he added, “You’re going to wish your pathetic idiot god never created you before I finish with you. You’re going to curse Him to His face before I’m done. I promise you. Your body and soul are mine...now and forever. Hell has finally come to claim you, you traitorous human germ!”

The Emperor then hammered Hannibal on the left breast with his clenched fist. The strike made Hannibal rise up against the fetters as it not only drove his breath away with a hacking gasp, but also broke several ribs, leaving them with hairline fractures. It also caused a brief flutter in the clone’s heart, adding to the excruciating pain of the hit. With his clone chest on fire, Hannibal’s vision got blurry. The last thing he saw was the Emperor smashing his fist into the side of the clone’s head at the temple. Stars exploded in Hannibal’s mind from the hit before he plummeted into darkness.

Filled with all the hate and rage of hell, the Emperor looked down at Hannibal in the unconscious clone woman with a sneer. “You’re going to regret having taken this course, you little pestilent human shit,” he rumbled ominously. “You think you’re so strong and clever, but you’ll soon see how wrong you are. No one defies me. Let’s find out how strong you really are.” With that, he purposed to take Hannibal into the very heart of his darkness to test his mettle, starting there in Mirror Cell 28.