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mama-qwerty · 5 months ago

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Dark Mirror

Behold, what grabbed me to write last night and today.

Okay, this came out WAY different than it started in my head. It was supposed to be one of those "What if this character were EVIL??" kinda things, but morphed into . . . this.

I still like how it came out but it's surprising how different it is from what it started as in my head.

What if Dread and Scarlett had both been taken by Harper all those years ago?

~~~~~

Jonas Flynt, captain of the Devil’s Chariot, wanted on half the continent, and one of the most feared pirates on the seas of No Place, knelt on the hard wood floor of an unsuspecting cabin nestled in the outskirts of the thick jungle on the isle of Dragon’s Fang.

Actually, ‘cabin’ was a generous term for this dwelling—as far as Flynt could tell, there was only this single room. The only light casting long shadows across the floor was from two lanterns mounted to the back wall. Their wicks were turned low, throwing the barest amount of light across the dark wood surrounding him.

He’d been ushered in and ordered to kneel by a large purple cat, one who stood almost his height. Not a small feat when comparing humans to the non-human species that shared this pathetic planet. Normally humans like him towered over these sapient animals. There were only the select few species who could come close in size.

Always on alert, Flynt took in the size, shape, and layout of the room. No furniture. No other doors he could see. He’d gotten a quick glimpse before the door closed behind him, delving the room into the almost black only marred by those two lanterns.

A single figure stood between those two lanterns, and the flickering yellow light cast it into mostly shadow. It stood still, the silhouette seeming to sway as the light on either side danced and moved.

“You tried to pass without payment.”

The figure spoke, her voice low and sharp. Each consonant was pronounced clearly, crisply. Like ice cracking in a glass.

Flynt kept his expression hard. “Big ocean. Hard to place a toll on open waters.”

Her head tilted to the side. “When you come to my island, you are no longer in open waters, Captain.”

The man shrugged. Flynt was a man who didn’t take kindly to being told what to do. Never had been. “Don’t see your name on the place, lass. Not sure why I should do anything more than run my blade across your pretty little throat and be on my way.”

A deep growl sounded from one of the dark corners behind him, and he turned in time to see another figure move from the black shadows. He’d never even known there was anyone else in the room. This figure was stockier, and moved as though it wasn’t used to walking upright.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He’d heard rumors about this place, but thought they were exaggerated, as most stories were when passed around in pubs and taverns once sailors had had one too many pints. Words like ‘haunted’ and ‘cursed’ and ‘deathtrap’ were sprinkled around, like spice in a stew. Always good to embellish a story, and make even the most benign place seem like the stuff of nightmares.

But right now it seemed as though the tales were true. That Dragon’s Fang was under the control of a pair of demons that required payment for passage, and if an agreeable deal wasn’t met, your ship was sent to the bottom of the sea before you could fire a single cannonball in return.

Still, he’d been around enough to know that some tales, as true as they may seem, were merely tricks and misdirection.

The second figure came closer, leaning in to growl in Flynt’s ear.

“Watch yer tongue.” The words hit his ear like hot gravel. “Else I’ll rip it out an’ feed it t’ ye.”

Flynt didn’t move. Didn’t so much as flare his nostrils.

“Attacking me is neither advised, nor possible, considering your weapons were confiscated before you entered here,” the female said, and stepped closer. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and Flynt’s eyes flicked to the cutlass strapped to her hip. “And should you decide to try anyway, well, my Dread can be a little . . . overprotective.”

The second figure, Dread, growled again in Flynt’s ear, before retreating back to the shadows.

Steady, Jonas. You’ve faced worse foes before.

“What do you want?” His voice came out steady, though not as strong as he would have liked.

The figure before him lowered her head slightly. “Two thousand gold coin and half your food supply.”

“Fuck off.”

It was out of his mouth before he realized it, and before he could blink a large hand grabbed him by the throat. He could feel the power in that grip, the tension. The fingers squeezed just enough to make him hold his breath.

“I don’t give second warnings, mate.”

Flynt flicked his eyes to the side and came face to face with a creature that shouldn’t exist.

The second figure, this ‘Dread’, was an echidna. An honest to gods echidna, a species that had long been thought died out. They were a dangerous and formidable people, with stories of their atrocities going back generations. The last had been seen back when Jonas’ grandfather was just a boy of eight, but here was another, in the fur and flesh, staring at him, grinning with its sharp teeth, and blowing its rank breath into his face.

Speaking of breathing, Flynt would very much like to keep doing that.

“Dread.”

The single word fell like ice from the female’s lips, and the echidna reacted instantly. Its grin faltered, and it flicked its purple eyes toward the other. Rather reluctantly, it withdrew its hand from Flynt’s throat, and Flynt sucked in a breath as quietly and with as much dignity as he could muster.

“I won’t stop him again, so you’d do well to mind your manners.”

Flynt cleared his throat, swallowing hard and wisely keeping his mouth shut.

“That is your required payment for safe passage through Dragon’s Pass. If you do not wish to pay, you are free to sail around the bluffs that surround us and take your chances with both the jagged rocks and reef below the water, as well as the remains of past ships that also did not agree to my terms.”

Dread gave a huff that was more of a snort.

She continued. “Some have made it. Not many. But some. You may be lucky.”

The captain contemplated his options. “And what would happen if I decide to go through your pass without paying?”

Another huff from the echidna. Only this time it sounded more like an amused little laugh.

The female didn’t laugh. When she spoke again, her voice was cold, hard, and low.

“You will die.”

It was Flynt’s turn to snort out a laugh. “The Chariot isn’t exactly defenseless, lass. We’ve taken down tougher foes than your little island, here.”

“Then try it.”

Something about the way she challenged him set Flynt’s teeth on edge. There was no fear in her voice. No warble or hint that she were bluffing. No edge to indicate a threat.

It was an invitation. A gentle command, given as one would offer a glass of water to a thirsty man. A meal to one who was starving.

An offer of something that seemed so simple, so wanted. Yet was laced with poison. With danger.

It was possible she simply had a very good poker face . . . or voice, as it were. He still couldn’t make out her face in the dark room.

He’d heard the tales of this place. Told in hushed, frightened tones over mugs of ale and rum. If the price isn’t paid, and the ship tries to pass anyway, it seems as though the very waters themselves seek vengeance. The sea boils. The crew falls, one by one, until only the captain remains. And then he is hunted by the beast held under the witch’s control.

The echidna was likely the beast of those stories. But Flynt didn’t think this woman was a witch.

“Captain. Your answer, if you please.”

Jonas Flynt stared at the shadowed figure before him, his mind working quickly to consider his options. The Chariot was fast, there was a possibility they could get through the Pass before whatever trickery this woman possessed could touch them.

Going the long way around was also an option, but one that didn’t sit well with Flynt. It seemed the coward’s way, and Flynt was no coward.

His eyes flicked to the cutlass on the woman’s hip once again. If he was fast enough, he could steal it from her and strike her down before her beast came near. Or at least hold her hostage until his ship was through.

Movement to his right, and the echidna came around to take a protective stance near the female.

Its fists were massive. Muzzle pulled into a snarl, showing fang. Eyes narrowed.

“You would be dead before you hit the floor.”

The echidna growled as if in agreement, but she sounded almost bored. As though this were something she’d said countless times before.

“Try if you must. I’ll simply call for your first mate to continue negotiations.”

Flynt looked between the beast and shadow.

He could try anyway. He was human, taller than either of these creatures. His height could give him an advantage.

The echidna moved to place itself squarely between Flynt and the woman. Fists clenched, quills bristling, hackles raised.

It was almost daring him to make a move.

Dragon’s Pass was the only way to avoid the treacherous waters surrounding the Devil’s Lighthouse. The straits of Dragon’s Fang were calm and offered a direct conduit to the isle, where the Lighthouse’s own traps awaited. But the treasure that sat atop that mountain promised legendary rewards, and many a pirate had made for it at least once in their lives. For some, it was the last thing they’d ever done. Others had lost their ships and crew in their pursuit of it.

To seek it was to court death.

To have it was to gain everlasting life.

Flynt took in a breath.

“I agree to your terms.”

He grimaced as he spoke, the words feeling bitter as they fell off his tongue. Jonas Flynt had never given in before. Never simply agreed to terms that didn’t give him an advantage, or leave him the victor in the interaction. This made the bile burn his throat.

“A wise move, Captain.” The female nodded, and stepped back to stand where she’d been in the beginning. “You will be given instructions on where to bring your offering. A pleasure doing business with you.”

The door behind him immediately opened, bathing the interior of the room in blinding light. The purple cat was back, and lifted Flynt to his feet as he was escorted from the room.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

~X~X~X~

Dread watched as Catfish led the bastard out. This one had been one of the more stubborn captains they’d dealt with, and the whole encounter left him feeling antsy and frustrated.

He straightened to his full height, giving his shoulders a roll. Moving hunched over like that increased the intimidation factor, but left his back grumbling for a while after. A quick turn of his torso gave a loud pop as his spine slipped back into place.

Dread turned, his pupils dilating in the low light to make out the manx cat, standing near the back of the room.

“Ye shoulda let me kill ‘im,” he growled, moving closer. “Didn’t like the way he spoke t’ ye.”

Her lip curled in a little smile, and she shook her head. “You’re too sensitive.”

A little frustrated huff left him at that, followed by a soft amused hum. He stopped before her, hands on hips. “Aye, I’ll remember that next time ye need me t’ bash someone’s head in, Scar.”

She snickered. “Business before pleasure, Dee. He saw reason. That’s what’s important.”

“First mate woulda prob’ly saw reason, too. Dunno why we had t’ keep him alive.”

“Because, my love,” Scarlett said, reaching up to rest a gentle hand on his chest. “Jonas Flynt is a powerful man. A feared man. If he were to talk about what he saw here today, the scary witch and her beast, those words would carry more weight than those of a dozen others. And the more afraid people are of us, the more they’ll either leave us be, or agree to our terms without batting an eye.”

Dread leaned into her touch automatically, and raised his own hand to rub her muzzle with this thumb. “Always thinkin’, ain’t ya?”

She turned her blind eyes up to him. The scar Harper had given her, when he’d dragged his blade across her face and taken her sight, glared at him even in the low light of the room.

“One of us has to.”

Dread snickered as he leaned down to nuzzle against her temple. “Ye she-devil.”

A soft purr reached his ears, and he wrapped her in his arms, holding her close. They were all they had, for so many years. The only thing they could trust and rely on, as they suffered under the hands of Captain Benjamin Harper and his equally cutthroat crew.

They’d both been taken by that bastard when they were children—just snatched off the streets at six years old.

If life had been hard before that, it turned absolutely hellish after.

Put to work on the ship. Beaten. Starved. Tortured for the amusement of the crew. They stuck together, even through that hell. But they were only children, and there were times they were forcibly separated, and Scarlett dragged below deck. Her screams sometimes still haunted his nightmares.

Scarlett had only been a child of twelve when Harper took her sight. She had accidentally seen something she shouldn’t have, some deal between him and another captain, and as punishment, Harper blinded her.

She was different after that.

Colder. Silent to all but him.

He couldn’t help her. Couldn’t save her.

His anger grew. So did his strength. When he injured a crew member during a sparring match, the captain ordered his knuckle spurs filed down. He’d passed out from the pain, and when he awoke, Scarlett was tending to him.

“They’re afraid of you,” she’d whispered as she wrapped his shaking hands. “I heard them talking. They think this will make you more controllable. Less dangerous to them.”

Dread had stared at his hands, the pain radiating up from those gaping wounds.

“They be wrong.”

“You can’t fight them. There are too many. Too loyal to Harper. They’ll kill you.”

“Let them try.” He grit his teeth, trying to force back the tears from the pain. “I don’t need me spurs t’ be dangerous. They’ll see.”

Silence settled for a moment, and when she spoke next, she sounded resigned. “I’m a danger to you.”

He startled. “What?”

“I’m your weakness. If you start getting out of line, they’ll just use me to control you. You’ll never get off this damn ship as long as I’m around. I’m . . .” She paused, lowering her head. “I’m a liability to you.”

“No.” The word was out of his mouth before he could think. “Scar, ye’re talkin’ nonsense.”

She pulled her lips tight, ears flicking back. “I should throw myself overboard so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

Dread’s chest tightened at that, and he lifted a bandaged hand it to gently nudge her face up so he could look at her fully. The scar Harper had given her months ago was still healing, an angry red stripe across her face. His heart twisted at the sight.

“Listen t’ me, lass, and listen well,” he said, his voice soft and firm. “The only thing that’ll happen if ye toss yer fool self overboard is I’ll be right behind ye t’ haul yer arse back aboard. An’ then I’ll be givin’ ye an earful ‘bout it.”

A little smile ghosted her lips, and she flicked her ears forward.

“Ye be the only thing that keeps me fr’m losin’ me mind. It be ye an’ me against the world, aye?” He gave her a little brush on her muzzle with the back of his trembling fingers. “Aye?”

Scarlett pulled in a deep breath, letting it out in a shaky exhale. “Yeah.”

He nodded, and leaned forward to press their foreheads together.

“I’ll get ye outta here,” he whispered, and his heart clenched when she let out a little sniffle. “I swear t’ ye, by all the gods above and below. I will get us out o’ here, if I have t’ kill each an’ every one o’ those bastards with me own hands.”

She nodded against him, but the tears were already falling. He pulled her to him the best he could, and she wrapped her arms around him in return. They had held each other for a long time, the reality of their situation weighing heavily on their minds.

It had taken the better part of ten years before they could escape. Dread grew stronger and stronger, but Scarlett had told him to keep it secret so the others wouldn’t realize the extent of his power.

Everything came to a head when Harper decided to sell Scarlett. He’d declared her ‘a drain’ to them, and thought it more worthwhile to sell her for a quick coin the next time they made port.

Dread killed him that very night. Then he’d gathered Scarlett and as many supplies they could fit in a lifeboat, and set the ship on fire, with the rest of the crew trapped in their cabins. The two had sat in the water nearby as the ship sank, the screams of those who’d tortured and ruined them fading into the black night.

That had been five years ago. Since then they’d made a new life for themselves, but the scars of the past still remained.

Now Dread gathered Scarlett into his arms, holding her close to him as he nuzzled against her neck.

“What was that ye said?” he purred, his lips brushing against her. “Somethin’ about business b’fore pleasure?” He growled out a little laugh, gently nipping. “Think business be done, aye?”

She hummed, an amused sound as she wrapped her own arms around him. “It would seem so.”

He gave a deep chuckle, and walked her backwards until she was flat against the wall.

“Ye an’ me against the world.” His nose nuzzled into her fur, inhaling her scent.

“Always,” she whispered, nuzzling him back. “Forever.”

Dread growled, his chest rumbling with a deep satisfaction, as he brought their lips together.

~X~X~X~

The jungle burned around him.

He should have killed Flynt when he had the chance. Should have snapped the bastard’s neck. Should have crushed his chest. Should have popped that smug head right off his shoulders and punted it across the island.

But he hadn’t. Because Scarlett had been thinking ahead, planning and plotting. Seeing the bigger picture.

Except she hadn’t known just how ruthless Flynt actually was.

Dread looked down, adjusting his grip on the body in his arms.

Scarlett stared up at him. Blind eyes open wide. The gash across her throat gaping at him like a crooked smile.

Blood covered her. Covered him. It invaded is nostrils and he had to breathe through his mouth to keep from gagging.

Her blood. Spilled all over the ground.

He should have expected this. Should have seen it coming.

Flynt had ambushed them. He’d come from his ship, carrying the agreed upon payment, before pulling a pistol and shooting Dread. The shot had gone wide and only caught him in the shoulder, but it was enough to put him out of sorts for the split second it took Flynt to get to Scarlett, and run his blade across her throat.

Dread stood still for a second, his brain not wanting to accept what he was seeing.

Scarlett, his Scarlett, on the ground, bleeding out. He’d run to her, gathering her in his arms and talking to her, telling her he was there, he had her, she was going to be okay, all the while whimpering prayers to any god listening.

Holding her tight as she gasped and shook.

Holding her as she faded.

Holding her when she finally went still.

He gently ran a hand down her cheek as Flynt and his men attacked the little settlement he and Scarlett had set up here. Their crew fought hard—Catfish and Sails and Black Rose and Batten. But Flynt’s men were just as ruthless as their captain. They fell, one by one.

And Dread saw red.

He attacked Flynt, killing any who got in his way.

He didn’t hold back his strength.

He didn’t hold back his anger.

Blood soaked into the ground of the little island paradise they’d found all those years ago. He was covered with it, the stench urging him on. The crewmen tried to run, tried to get away, but Dread was faster. Stronger.

Flynt was the last to fall, and Dread took great pleasure in making sure the human’s last moments were as painful as possible.

For Scarlett.

Always, for Scarlett.

His mission done, Dread returned to his lost love and pulled her back into his lap. He sat there for a long time, stroking her muzzle, pulling her hand into his.

Ye an’ me against the world.

Now it was just him.

He turned, looking back over the jungle, where he could see the Devil’s Lighthouse standing above the trees. See the swirling storm of color from the gem that perched atop that rocky spire.

Him against the world.

Dread looked back to Scarlett, and leaned down to plant a soft kiss against her forehead. He closed her eyes, and lifted her to bury her in a spot where they loved to sit and relax. To just be together.

Once she was laid to rest, Dread had a trip to make. He’d get to the Devil’s Lighthouse, and he’d get that Beauty on top.

And the world would regret making Dread its enemy.

The world would burn.

#sonic fanfiction #knuckles the dread #scarlett the manx

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