STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE and all related characters are 
Copyright of Paramount Pictures.

HELLRAISER and all related characters are Copyright of 
Clive Barker. No infringement was meant. 

RATING: NC-17


CHALLENGERS
by BGM


Who are you?  Explorers. Travelers of the furthest reaches 
of experience ... demons to some, angels to others ... 

-- Kirsty and Pinhead, Hellraiser 


The box was enticingly beautiful. 

He turned it over in his hands, wondering idly what its 
purpose was. The design itself was gorgeous; dark plated 
lines connecting over a background of dazzling gold; 
intricate patterns that reminded him of some Cardassian 
artifact. In fact, he would have to ask Garak about that 
over lunch. 

It had been found among the late Lieutenant LeMarchant's 
possessions. It would be over a week before his wife and 
son would arrive on Deep Space Nine for the memorial, and 
so his possessions had been left in the care of Dr. Julian 
Bashir, inside the Infirmary's morgue. And now he was 
toying with it, fascinated despite himself, sitting crossed 
legged on the soft-carpeted floor. Turning it over and over 
in his hands, hypnotised by it. He wondered what its 
function was as his long slender fingers played over the 
surfaces, touching the patterns and following them. When it 
lay limp in his hands, unresponsive, he sighed in 
frustration and glanced at the chrono. 

He was late. 

"Damn," he muttered, climbing to his feet even as he 
continued playing with the odd device. He finally gave up 
with a sigh and walked over to the small compartment, 
slipping it inside among the few other belongings. "I'm not 
through with you yet," he warned before leaving the 
infirmary for lunch. 

The box sizzled with anticipation. 



"A puzzle box?" Garak's face had drained of color, though 
Julian noticed nothing as he cleaned his plate with a piece 
of bread. "Are you certain?" he asked, his voice barely a 
whisper. 

Finally Julian looked up with a frown. "I'm pretty sure ... 
why? Is it familiar to you?" 

"I ... have heard of Cardassians confectioning puzzle boxes 
in ancient times ... though they are old tales ..." His 
voice scaled down. "Lurid tales." 

A barely conscious shiver crawled down Julian's spine. He 
wondered what an already morbid race would find lurid ... 
something that would shake his friend so violently. He 
ignored the rest of his meal and scowled in concern. 
"Garak? What's wrong? You're white as a sheet!" 

Garak shook his head and tried to smile appeasingly. "Just 
over-stressed I suppose. The last few weeks have been ... 
distracting. Where did you see this box Julian?" 

Stumbling over one surprise to another, Julian wondered if 
he should mention the fact Garak had just used his given 
name without his apparent knowing. He shrugged. "Like I 
said, it was found among one of our lieutenant's 
possessions. It's in the morgue as we speak." 

Garak climbed to his feet in a rush, startling the young 
doctor. "Really? Fascinating, fascinating ... Well doctor," 
he said quickly, wiping his mouth hastily and clawing the 
doctor's arm. "No time like the present, may I see it? Yes, 
let's go shall we?" he said, dragging him from his seat. 

"Garak!" Julian cried, almost falling on his face. He 
scrambled up and followed the tailor out of the replimat. 

The morgue was as it was left, dark and empty. The lights 
suddenly rose, bathing the room in bright illumination, the 
angles of the spotlights casting no comforting shadows over 
the whole of the room.  Voices beyond the door slowly 
became clearer. 

"--ust a puzzle box for goodness' sake, why the hell are 
you acting so damn nervous?" The last words were uttered 
inside the room, by Doctor Bashir who stepped through 
first. Garak followed, sweeping the room in one quick 
glance. 

"Where is it, if I may?" he asked, 

Heaving a rankled sigh, Julian stalked to the compartment, 
trying to ignore Garak hovering around him like a fly. He 
pursed his lips and retrieved the box, turning so his 
friend would take a look.  Instead of reaching for it, 
Garak took a step back, eyes akin to a sort of horror. He 
shook his head.  "This can not be possible." 

"What? This? So it is Cardassian?" Julian asked, drawn to 
caress the box with his fingers again.  Garak caught the 
motion and ripped the thing from Julian's hands. 

"DON'T TOUCH IT!" he cried, hurling it across the room. It 
bounced off the wall, then rolled on the floor with more 
momentum than it should have had. It settled on the floor, 
sizzling again, quivering with need. Garak stared at it 
while Julian curled his lips in anger. 

"That isn't mine! For crying out loud, it doesn't even 
belong to Starfleet." 

"It belongs to the Nine Hells," Garak muttered under his 
breath, still his eyes attached to the object sitting 
innocently on the floor. "Don't toy with it Julian ... 
whatever you do, keep that monstrosity locked up until it's 
reclaimed." He turned quickly and gripped Julian's 
shoulders. "Whatever you do, DON'T touch it!" he said more 
forcefully, startling the young man. Julian disengaged 
hastily and stared in shock at his friend. 

"Garak you're scaring me ... what the hell is it? What's 
gotten you so scared?" 

"I'm not scared Doctor ..." An odd peace eerily settled 
across the tailor's features. Under a few seconds the 
Cardassian had managed to compose himself. "Heed my warning 
doctor, or you'll regret it." He stalked to the exit, 
pausing at Julian's side to whisper. "At Hell's hand." With 
what he was gone, leaving Julian to stare, shaken, at the 
small box on the floor. 



Julian sat inside his darkened office, chin resting over 
his folded arms as he stared at the lone box sitting on his 
desk. It had been hours like this ... simple staring, 
trying to figure it out. Trying to figure out Garak's 
behavior to boot; his friend never lost his nerve without a 
reason. And evidently, this was the reason. 

He sighed and reached out, touching the smooth gold circle 
idly, tracing it lightly. The box
shimmered, and he heard an odd kind of movement. Raising 
his head sharply, he frowned. "hello ..." He took the box 
in his hand and felt it cold to his touch. He continued to 
touch it lightly, tracing other patterns. Finally it 
clicked, and the top slid slowly upward. It paused, then 
slid back in place, clicking neatly. 

Progress! Finally. Grinning, he turned the box over and 
decided to try the circle again. With his thumb and touched 
its center, lightly, then traced it as before, with a mild 
touch, never pausing in the movement. He grinned and 
watched the box slowly move, clicking twice more before the 
whole decorative side began to rise again. He was 
entranced, finally making progress, when the box flew out 
of his hands and ricocheted on the far wall, bouncing back 
on the floor. He rose from his chair, his eyes on it as it 
completed the puzzle by itself. It rose alone, turned, then 
slid back into an altogether other pattern. 

All around him, darkness swelled, distorting his 
surroundings ... changing them. Across from him, he saw 
piercing light. 



Garak paced worriedly in his quarters. It wasn't like him 
to lose face like that, but Julian couldn't touch the box 
again ... he mustn't! He had been tempted to stay with him, 
to watch over it and him, but that would have been foolish. 
Surely Julian would not be so ... brash. 

He sighed and paused at the viewport, pursing his lips. The 
box. It was the same as he had seen in those lurid, dark 
tales of yestercenturies. He wasn't sure how it had all 
began, but he knew his people hadn't created the box. Only 
found it. And somehow discovered how to make others. Other 
gateways to the realms of the Nine Hells. 

He heaved a sigh. He knew them for what they were; legends 
... but yet, all that had changed when the Order 
confectionned one for their purpose. Instead of sharpening 
their own teeth, they made a deal with the demons ... the 
Cenobites ... promised to provide them with countless 
victims for their greedy purposes in exchange for simple 
knowledge. The knowledge to instill fear in others ... to 
reach in, discover their own mortal fear and act on it. The 
Cenobites had agreed. 

He never knew what happened, but he knew the contract had 
been broken by the time he entered
the Order. The Cenobites were no more when he was around, 
but the knowledge was still there.
That lurid knowledge that permitted them to torture with 
remarkable efficiency. 

Eventually, the knowledge was lost, and the old methods 
were reinstated. The box was forgotten.  Perhaps they were 
destroyed ... but now Julian had one. 

Uncomfortable with this knowing, he came to a decision and 
left his quarters. 



"You are a most ... enticing creature, my young child." 

Julian shivered violently, trying to look at something 
other than the creature's obsidian eyes. He was still 
trying to make himself wake from this horrible dream. 

The creature tilted his head, watching him unwaveringly. 

Julian wanted to run from this place ... this hideous place 
he found no solace in at all. Somehow his office had been 
transformed into something otherworldy ... a nightmare. The 
stench of blood was making him nauseous, the various 
dripping body parts scattered around him making his heart 
lurch in his chest. 

Yet if the room was unforgivingly kindling a sense of 
impending dread in his soul, the creature that had been the 
first to appear was somewhat separated from all of it. 
There was something almost ... appealing about it. The 
flowing raven skirt that moved with his every movement, the 
pale skin which made the darkness of his eyes stand out 
with eerie gloom ... all this which was beauty to Julian's 
eyes, a canvas of darkness and deathly pallor broken only 
by the grizzly wounds at his chest, bright red as though 
they had been inflicted recently. The gleaming needles 
protruding from his face shone with threat, casting 
pinpoints of shadows across the white of his face. And even 
those, morbid in their own purpose, were lined up 
symmetrically. All of him was symmetrical ... sensual. Even 
his arms, bent slightly at the elbows, as though on the 
verge of reaching for him in some lurid embrace. 

Julian again quivered and parted his lips. "Who are you?" 

The creature spoke again, walking toward him in languid, 
menacing steps. The robe flittered around him, darkness and 
shadows playing with faint streaks of muted light. "I am 
your savior my child," he said, his voice an enticing 
whisper. It was loud to Julian's ears, but it acted like a 
distant echo.  Menacing, seductive ... he closed his eyes 
and let the voice fill his senses. "I am an explorer ... 
the one who lurks in these realms ... your Hell." 

A nervous chuckle was wrested from Julian's throat, 
accompanied by a clear disbelieving blink from his large 
expressive eyes. "I don't believe in Hell," he replied, 
moving unconsciously backward as the creature advanced on 
him. It paused for a moment, staring quietly at him. 

"You will believe my child. I have such delights to show 
you ... I will embrace you with the cloak of suffering ... 
you shall know agony and ecstasy at our hands ..." The 
raucous whisper rose and fell with an orgasmic quiver, and 
the creature closed his eyes. "But you are far too 
beautiful ... your flesh, so young and flawless ... it is 
not for me to mutilate. Or break." 

Julian inhaled deeply at the words, again stepping back and 
watching as the two other minions closed behind the 
creature. One was female, and he could tell she had been 
very beautiful prior to the ghastly mutilation. She had 
raven eyes, pinning him in place, seducing him. The name 
Angelique flittered through his mind. 

The other, or rather the other two, were simply grotesque. 
Twins, evidently, with the skin at their faces twisted and 
enmeshed with each other's, mirroring a ghastly parody of 
two theatre masks, while their chest, waist and groin were 
fused together neatly as though they were one. 

He wondered again what monstrous nightmare he had walked 
into, remembering the box. It was
behind him, if he remembered correctly. He turned with a 
cry and began to run, only to crash face first into another 
being. He cried again, pushing himself away to study who it 
was. Clear disbelief shadowed his eyes. 

"Garak ..." 

But it was not Garak. Or rather, if it was, they had 
performed their own brand of surgery on him.  This man was 
Human. He stepped back until the pale creature grasped his 
shoulders gently, stilling him. He moaned at the strength 
that pierced through his being at the touch, fighting an 
urge to melt into the monster's arms. One of the pale hands 
released his shoulder to point lazily at the man before 
him. "You know him?" The whisper had been replaced with an 
authoritative raucous tone. 

The man regarded Julian darkly, eyes black and hungry, his 
smile disturbingly evil. He stepped forward and Julian 
pressed himself against Pinhead. He winced, feeling tiny 
hooks biting into his back. "I ... I thought it was my 
friend." 

"I am not who you believe I am ..." the man said, and the 
voice was oddly the same. Julian
whimpered and shook his head as the Human continued. "Here, 
my boy, we are mere shadows." 

"Shadows that can tear your flesh in many diverse fashions 
... but that is not your destiny my child."  Against his 
ear, the creature's breath was hot and hoarse. "Welcome to 
Hell ... we shall tend to you ... for eternity." 

Julian began to struggle for real, then cried out loud as 
the monster's hands clawed at his shoulders, pinning him 
still. "Frank ..." it said ominously, the whisper slicing 
the darkness with sharp danger. "I have found you a 
companion. Your eternity of solitude have shifted to 
eternity with a companion.  This gift ... for you Frank, 
though perhaps your impudence of long ago does not merit 
it." He pushed abruptly at Julian's back, sending him 
flying into Frank who caught him easily. "He is yours to 
use ... to abuse. But I warn you ..." the creature said 
quietly, turning slowly on its heel. "Do not kill him." 

Frank fixed Julian with a murderer's stare, his tongue 
licking at his eager lips. "No death to taint you my pet 
... but I promise to bring you close to it. Come ... Hell 
awaits you." 



Garak arrived inside an empty room. The infirmary was 
deserted, eerily so. He called out his friend's name, with 
no answer. He frowned, and made a quick inspection of each 
room before he paused at the entrance to Julian's office. 
The box was there. 

"Oh Julian ... no ..." he whispered under his breath, and 
walked toward it. 



After a while, Julian began to realise that the constant 
ching he heard were chains clinging softly against one 
another. He realised it as Frank dragged him through the 
long, dingy corridor, ducking and pushing those very same 
chains aside. 

Julian grew dizzy after a moment, from the strange, 
distorted angles to the ever-constant scent of blood 
reeking. He whimpered as he cowered to the side, avoiding 
an alarming corpse dangling from some unseen rafters. He 
paused and Frank glanced at him over his shoulder. He 
chuckled dangerously and tugged insistently on Julian's 
arm. 

"You get used to it," he sneered malevolently, and Julian 
would not begin to guess how long this 'Frank' had been 
incarcerated here. 

After a moment ... after Frank was certain Julian wouldn't 
dare an escape, the man let go of his arm and began walking 
more leisurely. Julian grabbed his chance to get 
information. As terrified as he was, his curiosity was 
almost as high. "What is this place?" 

"Hell," Frank muttered under his breath, pushing aside 
chains. 

"I realise that," Julian said naively, "But what is this 
place?" 

Frank whirled on him, eyes obsidian with wrath and 
bitterness. "Are you deaf, young boy? I just told you, 
this. is. Hell." he whispered harshly. 

"I don't believe in Hell ..." Julian whispered back, 
following meekly. He still had no idea where they were 
going; the corridor seemed to go on forever. 

"Well you're gonna believe soon enough ... those of the 
Fleshworld always do after the first few decades ..." he 
chuckled maniacally, and veered to the right. Julian gasped 
as Frank hauled him through with him. They stepped into a 
large chamber, dim, shadows cast gruesomely on the walls.  
There were several slabs of granite lining a wall, and 
countless candles kindled with shuddering pale light. 
Julian paused and turned, finding the door gone. He 
frowned, tracing his fingers absently over the seamless 
surface. "Like a holosuite ..." 

He wondered but for a moment before Frank tugged at his 
arm, flinging him against one of the slabs.  Julian landed 
hard, whimpering at the pain. Frank merely sneered. "I have 
spent eternity in this damnable place ... alone ... 
suffering unimaginable tortures. My flesh was returned to 
me ..." he murmured, lowering his eyes to his hands as he 
flexed his fingers. He gave voice to a derisive chuckle. 
"Well ... my dear sweet brother's flesh, though I suppose 
it's already better than having none." 

Julian looked at him silently, unable to find something 
appropriate to say. Frank merely continued.  "Solitude ... 
however ... they discovered was the greatest torture of all 
..." He paced the room, waving frantically. "All this! This 
room I have explored, I have stared at, I have derided and 
spit onto .. it's been my prison ... and now ..." he 
turned, breathless and eyes wide with two obsidian pearls.  
"Now he has granted me a reprieve ..." He began to make his 
way toward Julian, licking his lips. "... you." 



Garak faced Pinhead with a calmness that even surprised 
him. The being merely continued his
pacing, watching the Cardassian carefully. "You are ... 
Cardassian. Correct?" 

Garak inclined his head in a courtly bow. "At your 
service." 

"I remember Cardassians ..." Pinhead said under his breath. 
"Creatures of such resistance to the tortures of the flesh 
..." His sharp nail scraped along Garak's neck ridge, 
tearing it along the way.  Garak flinched slightly but made 
no sound. "Yes, I remember. The fleshworld had become so 
much more fascinating with your people in it. Challengers 
to our claims. Helpers in our explorations. Such eager 
students in the ways of Suffering." 

"That was long ago," Garak replied, feeling the dark blood 
seep slowly down his neck, tainting his clothes. "We have 
forgotten the ways." 

"The knowledge is still in you ... the ways of seducing ... 
the ways of agony ... it combines in your blood, making you 
a creature of such beauty ..." Pinhead's voice quivered 
with rapture as he closed his eyes, remembering. 

Garak closed his eyes as well, and tried to block out the 
rank scent of death. "No more. The Ways were banished. We 
have forgotten you. Our masters are no more," he said with 
more insistence." 

"We have always remained your Masters ... in your hearts, 
you long for the Ways again ... and I will show you. We 
need more Challengers ... more Students such as you. It is 
time. Time to open Cardassia to the Hells again ..." 

Garak hissed. "No! Cardassia has no need of that sort of 
presence anymore!" 

"You will ..." the creature drawled, moving away from him. 
"You will yearn for us when your world is ripped to shreds 
... when you look down upon your people and feel the thorns 
rip through your soul, you will call for me. I am your 
savior ... you have naught seen the delights I have in 
store for you." 

"Your delights shall never be ... I have come for my 
friend. I will stay in trade for him, but I will not allow 
anyone else to interfere. No-one else plays in your little 
game ... it ends here." 

"Oh no blustering," Pinhead hissed slowly. "You mock 
yourself with your words. I am Hell ... I take no orders 
from you." 

The inky darkness rolled in, bathing them in total 
blackness before Garak felt a sharp pain at both sides of 
his skull. He gritted his teeth and panted, wondering what 
monstrosity they were doing to him. Finally light, or as 
close to it as Hell could produce, illuminated the room, 
and he tried to move.  Belatedly, he realised he was bolted 
to a chair ... literally. 

The pain subsided quickly, but he could feel the bolts at 
the sides of his skull, holding his head in place. His eyes 
traveled down to his hands, which were shackled tightly 
over the armrests of his chair, as were his ankles. When he 
tried to budge, sharp pain tore through his head. 

Pinhead hovered next to him, his hand caressing now as it 
traveled idly up his shoulder, tracing the damaged neck 
ridge. "I have searched your mind ... your fears ... not 
pain. It did not surprise me.  You have much resistance in 
you. You are a learned student ... but I have found one 
fear ... one horror so vivid it was pitifully easy to 
detect. Watch Cardassian ... and don't make me tear your 
eyelids off ... watch." 

The wall before him rippled slowly, cobwebs shuddering with 
the movement, ripping apart as the wall opened on itself, 
like blinds, horizontal slashes tearing through it. Garak 
frowned, feeling the constant pressure on his skull. 

He gasped, then screamed. 



On the other side of the wall, unseen, oblivious, Julian 
whimpered with fear. Chains were tightly restraining his 
ankles and wrists to the slab of stone, and he twisted in 
his position, begging to be released. 

Frank hovered over him, snarling. "Eternity, do you 
realise? They didn't even bother turning me into one of 
them ... they kept my flesh ... kept me alive so I could 
feel everything ... those damn bastard don't even fuck ... 
just get their thrills by slashing bits and pieces of their 
skin off ... Oh but they knew ... they knew I'd suffer like 
this, alone ... oh but not anymore ..." He jumped over the 
slab and clawed at Julian's jaw, holding his head in place. 
"You're mine now." 



Garak twisted in his chair, trying to dislodge the 
shackles. Pinhead continued stroking him, arousing him 
involuntarily as his prisoner watched his tender precious 
Julian being ravaged. "Yes, it is your fear isn't it? All 
along .... your soul was struggling to deny it, but you 
would die to protect him." He knelt down imperiously next 
to Garak, his skirt rippling gracefully around him. He came 
so close to whisper in his ear that Garak felt some of the 
ice-cold pins touch his flesh. He shivered as Pinhead said, 
"Beg me for his release ... plead ... I want to hear you 
cry ... spill your tears for me to lick ..."  He closed his 
eyes, his breath quivering. "I want your Suffering." 



Julian whimpered again as Frank tore through him in one, 
hot stroke. He twisted in his bonds, feeling a familiar 
sensation pierce through him. He denied it, fought with it 
... Looking up at that face that was so familiar, yet so 
dark and evil, he sobbed. "Please stop ..." he whimpered, 
and deep down, so deeply buried he chose not to hear its 
whisper, a voice begged for him to continue. 



Garak was close to tears, but he held them at bay. He's 
just a Human, you don't care for him ... he's pathetic, 
weak, ignorant ... you never cared for him ... those 
lunches were to amuse him .. entertain your boredom ... so 
he will be broken ... he needs to face up to his life, to 
problems ... He closed his eyes, and bit his tongue until 
he could taste his blood. 

Pinhead shivered next to him. "Yes ... I feel your pain ... 
let it draw near ... let it surface ... he is being 
consumed ... by lust, by darkness ... he will be one of us 
soon." The creature turned languidly to watch as well, an 
odd serenity in his face. "His innocence will be shattered. 
He will serve us in the Sufferings of others ... his soul 
will blacken with the lurid Ways of Hell ... he is lost to 
you ... eternally." 

Garak wanted to shake his head, block them all out, but 
couldn't. Next to him, a bellow startled him.  "WATCH! Or I 
will strip his flesh before your eyes inch by inch!" 

Garak's eyes flew opened, and he watched as Julian's cries 
turned lustful ... as his delicate innocence almost 
tangibly left his soul ... 



The darkness filled him, the lust and greed warring in him 
for prominence. He spread his legs even more, feeling the 
hot scalding length of his tormentor stab through him time 
and time again. He curled his fists and cried out, close to 
the edge ... he parted his lips and begged for more ... 

When Frank began thrusting mercilessly, Julian felt the 
sensation boil over, and fill him completely. 

He came with a scream, and on the other side of the wall, 
Garak sobbed. 

"You wished it ..." Pinhead said in a raucous whisper as he 
slowly rose. "Your desires for him were not only of lust. 
They spoke of his innocence ... they spoke of stealing it 
away from him. He was too pure," Pinhead sneered, glancing 
over his shoulder. 

Garak let the tears burn alongside his cheeks, making nail 
marks in the wood of his chair. "It was not yours to 
steal." 

"Nor was it yours," Pinhead retaliated calmly. "His desires 
were for you." Pinhead looked through the uneven slits in 
the wall, smiling slightly. "His thoughts were of you in 
that moment. A pity ..." he turned to smile at Garak, "you 
were not there to share it with him." 

Garak struggled with the chair again, blind wrath swelling 
inside his very soul. "Release me." 

The chair was as though it never existed and Garak stood, 
feeling the pressure at his skull unyielding.  He touched 
his head, but the bolts were gone. Pinhead regarded him 
steadily. "You will stay. He will leave. The deed was done. 
Now the trade will be accomplished." 

"I wanted to trade before you did that monstrosity to him! 
I refuse to accept now!" 

Pinhead's eyes bore through him like an arrow. "You accept 
or I will tear BOTH your souls apart!" 

Garak hissed, then ran for the wall. When he came in 
collision with it, it vanished, and he stumbled into the 
room. Frank was gone, and Julian was still bound to the 
cold slab of stone. 

"Julian ..." He hurried breathlessly to his beloved's side 
and frowned at the cuffs as he worked to pry them open. 
Julian arched over the hard bed and cooed at his friend. 

"Garak ... you came for me ..." he moaned softly and threw 
back his head. "Take me Elim ... I want you ..." 

Garak looked at him with horror. "No! They polluted your 
mind ... you'd never want me ... now hold still!" 

"Oh but Elim I do ... please, don't deny me, I want you 
Elim! NOW!" He twisted on the slab,
begging, pleading softly until Garak couldn't concentrate 
anymore. He closed his eyes and leaned over the bed, trying 
to steady his breath. 

"Julian, you don't know what you're saying!" 

"What's so wrong in me wanting you ..." Julian said with a 
gasp, thrusting his hips lightly over the bed. "Why do you 
call it pollution?" 

Garak opened his eyes and looked down at the long, slender 
sex, quivering with need ... for him ... he felt himself 
harden even more until he pulled away from the bed. "Please 
Julian ..." 

"Take me Elim ..." Julian whispered. "I'm yours ... it's 
what you always wanted isn't it? To take me ... helpless 
and bound under you while you thrust into me so fiercely 
... pound me into the bed so hard .. Elim please ..." 

Letting a sob escape his mouth, Garak mounted the bed as he 
hastily unclasped his trousers, and in one thrust managed 
to slice through the young man's impossibly heated depths. 
He cried out, feeling Julian's cock nudging his stomach as 
he draped himself over the helpless Human, kissing urgently 
and ravenously as he rocked his hips hard. He was his, 
Julian was right ... nothing was stopping him. His 
conscience flew away, mingling with the rest of the lost 
souls and whispers of long ago consciousness in this dark 
realm. He made love to his beloved, taking him, fucking 
him, vowing eternal love to him. 

And all around him, they watched. The explorers who would 
be demons to some, angels to others .. they watched and 
smiled at the two who would be their Challengers. 

In another corner, Frank was being prepped for his own 
change. He had served his purpose. He
was no longer allowed humanity. 

A dark smile curved his lips as he waited. 



THE END