19 - The Birth and The Return

When their bodies touched the mattress, Ysabelle felt the alarm going to her head. By no means was she going to yield to this man who acted exactly unlike a human, let alone the Marcus that she knew. How else would they be gently floating down if this person above her wasn't a supernatural?

In her endless lifetime, she had seen countless of things under the guardianship of the brotherhood. Things that no mere human knows, not even the Vatican court of overseers, not even the Holy See, not even the presidents of the divided countries. She knew that other than humans, there were a number of entities playing on the background. Ghosts, angels, demons, spirits of the unknown, even what humans call now as unidentified flying objects. All of them are real and the Priory of Sion, though religious in nature, kept different kinds of relics and artifacts from these heavenly and not-so heavenly beings in the wake of their visits. They keep it safe and vowed secrecy of it, and sometimes Ysabelle thought of herself as one of those relics, the only difference is that she is alive and moving.

When she caught a glance at the tattoo in his right and left hands, that's when she realized that what's inside Marcus was the demon her cousin, André, had days ago. So, it wasn't exorcised for good it seems and that Marcus was possessed by it now.

H arranged her so that her body would cover the length of the bed and so that he could straddle on top her. He placed both his hands on each side effectively jailing her on the spot.

Ysabelle broke their kiss successfully and fought to stand, pushing his chest with great force, her left hand still holding the picture frame. She dared not whack him in the head anymore, considering it was still Marcus' body and she was worried of hurting it.

She had no other choices left though but to thrash her hands and legs and hope that she'd be able to slip from his grasp and escape out of the room.

But H was relentless. He grabbed her wrists, pinning it on top her head and moved to clamp his legs with hers to keep her at bay.

"This is easy. I don't even need to use all my powers to ra*pe you. I am going to enjoy this."

With his intentions known, Ysabelle's scowl dissolved and replaced with widened fearful eyes. "No!" she cried, trying to throw her hand that held the frame towards Marcus' face. Bashing his head was the only thing left that she could do in order to protect herself and she knew that the real Marcus would understand it.

H, however, was able to subdue it again, and without warning, crashed down his lips into hers. He used his ability to still the woman in place and once that was done, he pulled the pectoral cross and tossed it on the floor, glancing at the necklace with sickening depth and then continued his attention on the frightened woman. His hands roamed down her neck and chest sensually, hooking a finger to pull the neckline down to show the valley of her breasts.

Ysabelle moaned in protest. Though here in her front was all of him, she couldn't feel anything close to the real Marcus at all. The way he looked at her with unbridled lust, the way his hands further glided under her black tee, the way his fingers pressed her ribs, the way his weight pushed her down, and the way his lips sucked her tongue, they were all alien to her and that made her tears spill out in agony. All of these were unlike anything she felt last night.

She wanted the real Marcus.

God, she wanted him.

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H proceeded to ravish Ysabelle. He continued tearing her tee and brassiere off, setting the creamy breasts free. He stopped their kiss and sought to lap one pink bud, making it erect by nibbling it with his teeth. His captive closed her eyes tightly, shutting off the scenes in her mind and shutting off all aroused feelings that it elicited.

"Ah, com'n now Y-sa-belle, don't restrain yourself. Enjoy this like you enjoyed Marcus fucking you in my black desert."

Realization hit her. She opened her eyes and frowned at the ceiling.

"You..." she whispered in disbelief. "You were responsible for my dreams!"

"Yes, I am, " H affirmed. He paused, straightened up and leveled his face on her, blocking the ceiling view. "But I wouldn't call it a dream really. I just simply transported you to where the exorcist priest is and you two both went from there. Imagine my amusement when Marcus thought you were just an illusion."

He grinned and licked his lips, eyeing her generous breasts again. An ache started collecting on his loins and H wanted it spilled now. Fuck. He doesn't want any interruptions anymore.

"You...you played with our emotions!" Ysabelle pointed in a trembling voice, tears continued to river down her eyes.

H paused from squeezing her breasts.

"True, true. But I only heightened it Ysabelle." He twirled his fingers on the taut nipples and then squeezed it back again. Ysabelle clamped her mouth and closed her eyes, blocking the arousing sensation. No. She wouldn't whimper for him. "It was already there. What it just needed was a light push. Marcus desired you and you, to him. I wouldn't call myself the only culprit you know."

He tongued on one peak and kneaded the other in unison and this simply broke Ysabelle's wall. Just for a brief moment she gasped with the sensation it provided.

True that it wasn't the same as the real Marcus could make, but Ysabelle was still a woman and that her body was designed to such responses whether she likes it or not. The fact that this man on top her held Marcus' appearance didn't help at all too. It proved to be too much for her brain to take.

H smirked in triumph. He continued on doing the same, this time in slow, gentle motions mimicking what Marcus did inside the Bedouin tent to her.

This turned Ysabelle's mind into utter confusion. This was the same. The same! Exactly the same! She opened her eyes and dropped her gaze down to look at the man, but red eyes and a now-long black hair only did greet her then to her dismay.

"Mar-cus... no..." she called out with her heart aching. Where are you... where are you?!

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How much more does Marcus have to suffer?

Since that majestic time, he had all his thoughts flooded with Ysabelle and how she looked beautiful under him. Everything about her, from her loving eyes looking at him, the soft innocence that she had, how she writhed in passion with him, and how she cried out his name while in ecstasy. It was a memory he did not want to forget. It pained him that it all ended in just one time. She never came back again.

But what was even painful was realizing that what happened to them was not just an illusion anymore. Marcus somehow realized, during the whole time he watched the woman sleep next to his chest, that she was indeed real. That they indeed made love physically without any hesitation... without any guilt.

It may have been just a game for the demon, but somehow it became the gate to expressing their feelings.

Now, he is in such a gloomy mood, incomplete, torn apart. He wanted her in his arms now, he wanted her close to him, and God, he'd do anything in his power to be back in reality... where she is.

But how? He asked. How was he going to break in the darkness of this prison?

Sitting in a boulder staring at the night sky, Marcus suddenly felt uneasy. He had goosebumps running up his nape. 'No... Something wasn't right. Something unpleasant was happening in the real world, ' his intuition concluded. He could feel the demon's excitement radiating inside him. He could feel H in his flaming lust. But lust to whom?

"Mar-cus..."

Then, Ysabelle's faint saddened voice cut through the thickness of the darkness around him. That's when he realized she was in danger.

So it seems H was making a move now.

"Ysabelle!" Marcus shouted, anger painted his face in an instant.

He stood up, turned in circles trying to find some glint of hope around him — some small crack that he could squeeze himself to escape from the demon's prison, or anything at all. But, he saw nothing other than the usual mountains of sand dunes and the black sea.

"H-! Whatever you are doing to her, stop it!" he demanded.

But the demon didn't answer.

"Damn you..." Marcus clenched his teeth and tightened his fist.

What to do? What to do?

"H-!!!" He shouted again, louder, almost tearing his throat out to the wind. "Don't you dare!"

As a response, the tattooed vines in his right arm augmented and slithered like a reticulated snake. The blue and violet flames, although just ink, somehow burned his skin.

"Damn you demon!" Marcus belted out, clutching the arm with his other hand. "Argghh!"

He groaned when he felt the ink burning like hot iron in his flesh and his chest constricted all at the same time. Fuck, the demon was making it sure he won't be bothered by his time with the woman with the priest's constant yelling.

The power of the tattoo brought Marcus paralyzed all over. Dropping onto the sand, he had a forceful bang to his head. He felt dizzy as a result; his vision kept changing from black to white.

'No, Ysabelle!' Marcus hoarsely cried out as he felt the intensity of H's lust mocking him. Huffing out the sand from his mouth, he gnashed his teeth, worried of her welfare to the bone.

'No, I will not go down like this!' he expressed, the thunder in his heart beginning to form a storm. 'I am an exorcist priest! And I will not be controlled by a demon!'

Marcus' eyes suddenly changed from a smoky brown to a golden amber shade. His arms showed an odd occurrence where the surface crystallized and enveloped the tattoo. The burn immediately dissipated and the augmented vines flattened. Marcus found the coolness of his skin soothing, but not only that, he actually felt entirely better now... much better, like he had just been reborn.

Not paralyzed anymore, he stood up and looked skyward. The sea of blue and violet stars began to change. It flashed white. The atmosphere of the black desert too lightened. Marcus raised one shimmering arm up and in one unexplained instant, the black space cracked revealing a white slit of light from the sky to the black sea. This produced violent waves and a loud rumble on the ground.

Marcus couldn't explain it, but a surge of power flowed in his veins, ready to be released. He had not felt this way before, but he was sure the power was connected to him even before he realized he had it. The feeling was the same as that of an antique vase to its history, or a fetus to its umbilical cord, or a river to its waterfall, or him to his woman, Ysabelle.

"Wait for me, love. I'll be there, " he whispered with determination, eyes glowing gold even more.

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Back in reality, the poor woman kept herself within the confines of her control. H managed to get another gasp from Ysabelle when he unzipped her jeans, inserted a finger into her undergarment and into her soft folds, but that was it and nothing more. She remained distant, keeping herself numb with the sensation. If she could have fought him away, she would have, but the impostor made it sure that its power would immobilize her.

H aimed to give her as much of the two sensations he wanted her to feel: pleasure and torment. The feeling of authority within his hands made him wickedly smile. This was his favorite game indeed, making women unable to do anything.

He bit a supple skin near her belly and rubbed on her sensitive folds more, this made Ysabelle shout out asking him to stop.

And he did, to her surprise.

To her jaw-dropping surprise.

With half-lidded eyes Ysabelle looked down on him, panting, and saw that he was stoned on the spot.

"What...just happened?" she uttered in confusion and relief.

H's eyes turned from glowing red to heterechromatic to smoky brown and his long hair shortened drastically to the original Marcus style. His devilish smirk cleared and was replaced by a thinly pressed lip, then a soft smile.

Ysabelle, realizing that her breasts were still exposed, covered it with the bed sheet. She stared at the change for a long minute and held her breath when she realized one thing...

"Marcus..." she whispered gently, lips trembling with disbelief.

The real Marcus had finally surfaced back.