Marked For Death | klangst

Nine.

Lance was beside himself with worry. The last thing he could remember was being knocked cold by his evil doppelganger, a malicious glint burning in his eyes. When he came to, dim light met his own eyes, along with the rugged walls of a cave and the rocky dirt beneath his feet. As far as he could tell, no one else was in the cave with him.

He fought hard to recall what events had unfolded before McClain entered the equation. But it was as if something was preventing his thoughts from formulating. A mental block had built its way up in his mind, and no matter how hard Lance tried, he couldn't knock it down.

Footsteps met his ears; the crunch of rock as pressure was applied and the scraping that soon followed, feet too heavy to lift fully from the ground. Moments later, a woman entered, followed by McClain.

Lance narrowed his eyes in loathing. "What do you want with me?" he asked, angry and impatient. "Oh, and you can save yourself time by not feeding me that false story of you "seeking to help people" because that's a load of rubbish."

The woman -- who appeared to be ethereal and strikingly beautiful; sported flowing, windswept aqua-colored hair that stopped at her waist; wore a majestic white chiffon dress that was cropped in the front and was longer in the back -- took a step forward. "But, Lance--" she said his name softly and delicately, almost as if every letter was made from fragile glass "--I do seek to help people. That has never been a lie."

"Pardon me if I don't believe you," Lance snorted, avoiding eye contact.

The woman sighed a graceful sigh. Oddly enough, she reminded Lance of some ancient goddess, but he shook the thought away instantly. "Believe what you like, but I tell only the truth -- nothing more and nothing less."

"So this place must be perfect for you then," Lance commented, still not looking at the woman. "If the mist around here reveals the truth to people who believe in lies -- which is what you supposedly believe in -- this is like home for you, isn't it?"

"You catch on quickly," the woman replied absently, calming a stray lock of frizzy hair. "I created this atmosphere to be a safe haven, a home. And it's evolved into something more. It's become a place where people can purify their minds of the poison that corrupts them , where they can learn the truth — as I did once, a long time ago

Lance groaned. "Look, Striatha, I--"

"Ooh, how lovely!" the woman interrupted with forged excitement. "I see my assistant here has mentioned my name."

With an obviously bored look in his eye, Lance glanced up only to stare at the pair of them. "No kidding. Anyways, I don't need any help."

"But that's not true, is it, Lance?" Striatha asked in a voice dripping with sugary venom.

"Of course it is," Lance denied her accusation, twiddling his thumbs in front of his stomach.

"No, I don't think so," she insisted, a fierce expression crossing her face.

Lance was at a loss for words. "I don't know what you mean," he told Striatha truthfully.

The woman sighed again, but this time, it was longer and heavier. "My assistant informed me that you've encountered a bit of memory loss. Is that not correct?" she asked in confirmation, taking another step forward.

With reluctance, Lance slowly nodded. "Yeah, it's true, but I'm sure it'll all come back to me in time," he tried to brush off, but Striatha wasn't giving up.

"Why, we have all of the time in the world!" she exclaimed, now only mere feet away from him. "What's the point in waiting?"

"Oh," Lance shrugged nervously. "Reasons."

"Such as?" Striatha pressed, slowly inching closer to Lance's body when she thought he wasn't paying much attention.

"You know..." Lance trailed off, not having anything to say next. "Just... because?"

It was Striatha's turn to narrow her eyes. "Wrong... answer," she said, her words staccato and harsh.

She moved towards him with sudden ferocity and speed. Lance had barely a second to spare as he recoiled away from her outstretched hand, her fingertips missing his chest by mere centimeters.

"Woah," Lance warned, backing up even further. "I told you I don't want any help."

"I do not believe that is what you said," Striatha sneered, still advancing on him. "I believe that you said you did not need help, not that you didn't want it."

"Pish posh," Lance scoffed, trying to mask is growing skepticism and fear with his overwhelming sarcasm.

"Your dry humor will not work on me. I can smell the fright rolling off of you. It's quite a pungent odor," she told him, her nose scrunching up in disgust.

Lance smirked. "Are you sure it's not just me? Because my memory may be out of wack, but I do know I haven't taken a proper shower since two days ago."

Striatha's forehead wrinkled again distastefully. "Believe what you want, Mr. McClain. The outcome doesn't change. Your future remains the same," she informed him threateningly.

"Ooh, I'm all for the whole "predicting the future" vibe!" Lance exclaimed, his back finally making contact with the wall of the cave. A bit more nervously, he added, "Tell me, what's my future like?"

The other-worldly woman narrowed her eyes menacingly. "Full of pain and torment, suffering and strife, torture and grief." She paused, allowing her threat to sink into Lance's mind. "Also, allegiance to me whenever I shall need you."

Lance's ears perked up in curiosity. He had been focusing on the more intense part of her threat, but what did she mean by allegiance to her? He frowned, and though he didn't want to, looked Striatha in the eye. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, confidence returning to him.

"You'll see," she said before an icy blue flame shot at Lance's chest from her fingertips. He didn't have time even to blink before the edges of his vision turned black and began to fade away once again.

Before his mind went blank for the second time that day -- before he slipped into unconsciousness -- he distinctly heard Striatha say to McClain, "Make sure this one stays until I'm done with him. Only then will I send him back to the Castle of Lions, since I know the Paladins of Voltron will search endlessly for him." She had hesitated, and in Lance's sleepy daze, he assumed she was looking at him. "I have special plans for him."