Noir Badarte is a necromancer with a heart of gold- and he finds himself in Portland Oregon, to find a new serial killer called the Wolf- but Portland's own insane undead have plans of their own for him.
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At first, they wouldn't Noir go to sleep.
Whenever he'd drift off, someone would instead rattle his cage. Shivering, at some point he started to beg for sleep. He cried. He vomited. He shivered and panted like the dog they were treating him like.
He lost track of his actions, feeling more like a passenger than in control anymore. Nothing he did could stop the circus of grotesqueries.
When Noir begged for sleep, however, Black Anna stopped everything.
"Of course." Black Anna waved her minions away. In a very kind, very soft voice, she consoled him. "Yes, you do need that, don't you?"
Undead hissed and backed away. Black Anna waved them further away. "I said back! Let him fall asleep!"
Black Anna stood over his cage. "See? I can be kind, Necromancer. Sleep. Think about my offer. The chance to be free... Sleep."
Noir felt his eyes begin to close. Then, he fell into slumber. The oceanic depths of sleep drug him down, down down.
Noir's sleep was fitful. He felt like he was dreaming.
"Something is in here with me." Noir told himself. He could sense it. Lurking in the back of his dreaming thoughts.
"Lets see something painful, ok?" Black Anna asked him. Her voice felt omnipotent.
Without realizing it, Noir's mind obeyed. "No! Don't-"
"-fuck this." Noir finished. He kicked the door of the pickup shut, pissed off at his own stupidity. "I don't want to talk to him. Fuck this town, fuck him and fuck these sheep."
The thirteen-year old kid then grew even more annoyed with himself as he realized he hadn't been speaking a single word in english, reverting back to Basque for over half of the sentence. "Argh! Even when he's not here, he's here!"
Black Anna looked down at the skinny kid, who stared at the stalled pickup.
"Your father is coming, isn't he?" She asked.
Noir felt her control over the dream fall onto him. Her mind was like a claw, clamping down on his thoughts. He tried to direct his teenage self. But he felt himself fall back into the old pattern, reenacting the memory like a puppet. Except, things were different now.
Black Anna stood a head taller than Noir's thirteen-year-old self. She pursed her lips, looking over the pickup and the black night around them. "You just remember the pick up? Hmm. How... pedestrian of a memory, necromancer. Still..."
"He can't just... damn it!" Noir screamed. "He CAN'T DO THAT!"
Noir paused. He remembered this part of the memory too well. It was a the brief regret, the brief bit of light before the memory would inevitably fall into darkness.
"Of course he can't," Black Anna said. She smiled. "You're special, Noir. He doesn't understand that."
Young Noir felt warmth course through his body. The observing older thoughts in his mind whirled in alarm. She'd changed the dream. She replaced one person with herself.
No, Noir thought, not her. You don't get to replace Her. He struggled, trying to focus his mind. He tried to break the spell Black Anna used to burrow into his dreams, to stop what he felt coming.
"You-you're right." Young Noir agreed. He turned, looking up at Black Anna. "Fuck my father. At least I have you, Anna."
Black Anna smiled.
"Little boy, there is so much you are going to learn from me." Black Anna put a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. She thrust their mouths together. This created a passionate kiss that shocked through Noir's mind like lightning. She replaced Elle. And there wasn't a thing he could do about it.
Noir could feel his younger self give into it. Black Anna seemed to grow in beauty. She became a goddess in his young mind's eye. A radiant force he had to obey.
The older thoughts his mind tried to rail against it, but to no avail. He couldn't stop Black Anna's infection in his dreams and memories.
"He works and works and works... and expects nothing but perfection from me." The younger Noir complained.
"I know, that's unfair." Black Anna planted kiss after kiss on the younger Noir's body. He shivered as she picked him up, touching and caressing.
"He... doesn't see them... he doesn't believe me..." The younger Noir closed his eyes. "Fuck him. So I ditched school... so what? Fuck him, he's the reason... Madre left..."
"Cruel and ignorant of him." Black Anna whispered, sucking gently on his ear. The younger Noir became putty, euphoria twisting the dream into a synesthetic twister of color and emotions. "So cruel. You deserve better."
"Yeah..." His young dream self agreed. "Fuck my father. He... doesn't know what he wants of me anyway."
Noir wanted to vomit. This was a mockery of that night. Especially because of what happened next. Noir and Elle had a serious moment, a true moment. Black Anna was tainting that. The sacredness of it. The purity of it.
He... felt the sensations of the dream wash over him. Then Noir realized a very important, core part of him was gone. It was in love with Black Anna, drowning in the control she put over him. It wanted her, complying with her. That part of him couldn't say no to her. A part of his Self had joined the enemy.
"Forget your father," Black Anna whispered into his dream-self's ear. "Lets work on fucking you."
Her hand grasped him. Noir's teenaged dream-body reacted to it like it was a electricity. Noir felt more and more of his control fade away. Passion seemed to overrule him. He felt smaller and smaller.
Noir worried, processing what this dream might be doing to him. How big of a part of his mind was it? Enough for her to win him over? Enough to break him? Enough to drive him mad?