Eclipse

Chapter 9- Twisting the Nightmare (Part 1 of 2)

It was just before dawn when the silhouette of shadows, the galaxies newest terror, slunk into the crimson office. Every ominous step, flapping his noir cloak and trailing a victims blood.

Vader had once again, been sent off world for yet another hunt to find and slay his master's enemies sprawled throughout the galaxy. Some had tried to run, hide, scream, it did not matter. He slaughtered them mercilessly, just like hundreds before them. His bloodthirsty lightsaber dangled on his hip, hidden deep inside the gaping hole of his cloak.

Though, no matter how menacing his apprentice stood before him, garbed in black, his mechanical breathing echoing off the walls, spooking the wallpaper, Sidious did not fear him. He was his slave, he had no true power over him and he did with him what he so desired. However, he was starting to realize the constant trips were taking a toll on him.

If Sidious observed his protege closely, he could see through his purposeful stride, under his decorative, shinning black mask, he could almost see the plea for sleep. He knew Skywalker was too weak to fight back control within himself, still a stupid Jedi up against a formidable Sith Lord, the odds were not in the boy's favor. However, keeping the stubborn young man at bay proved to be difficult and time consuming. He was supposed to be dead by now. Though if the force was on his side, it would not be long now. He would make sure of it.

Though, it was still a conundrum how Skywalker was well aware of everything he heard, saw, done, and killed as Lord Vader. He could remember every gruesome detail, the macabre of torture, and the quick slice of the necks. But when he woke from his nightmares, and when Vader took a respite from his rule, he retained nothing.

The Sith apprentice hoped someday, his master would grow tired of this game where he pit two souls against one another. It was getting tedious fending off Skywalker's incessant yammering, and his irritating pleas to end it while he still had a shred of integrity.

His integrity. The morals that made up the pesky Jedi.

Vader knew why he still had a shred left. It was singlehandedly the knowledge that he never harmed anyone he truly cared for. Nameless souls fell at his feet by the dozens, and he was appalled. He begged to jump back and feel remorse, but was unable to find the grief to do so. All he would find, should he search, was an icy exterior as Vader casually stepped over the corpse with a sadistic hop. However... if those souls happened to have a name... one that perhaps he could recognize with warm brown eyes, another with auburn hair, maybe, just maybe, his spirit would finally crumble. The last thread of hope would be severed with brute force and then the Jedi would fail; the darkside would destroy him and he would become-

Something was off.

He didn't show it on his shrouded features, the pursed lips remained intact. But he could feel it. Feel its inscrutable significance in his bones, in his blood, all around him. The room oozed with malicious intent... and the veiling of something else. Gradually, Vader sunk to an obedient knee in front of his master, his breathing the only sound to open the silence.

There was a plan brewing, Both souls within the Chosen one felt it. One knelt, the other shuddered. The temperature dropped with Vader, to his knees.

"It has been done, my master." The dark baritone, laced with mechanical emphasis boomed in his typical greeting.

His master did not turn around to face him just yet. Vader never knew why he didn't just rotate when he entered- and he knew when Vader entered. If the almighty power of the force was not enough, then the superfluous mask covering his handsome, twisted features, while also crescendoing his air intake, should. Perhaps it was a display of power?