Fastidio

 It was all so wrong. She barely knew these creatures but something was gnawing away inside her physical form at the thought of these fools who thought that they could take over this cult.

 Then again, such is the way of human nature. To conquer or be conquered indeed.

 Call hissed in irritation, floating off to the left as her emerald flame flared under her hood. She needed to get away from the cult's perimeters for a bit. It was all so ridiculous and (admittedly) unnerving. These humans shouldn't have so much control and power. They didn't deserve to.

 It was like being told that she was a child and couldn't do anything. She wasn't stupid. She knew that these Puppeteers were dangerous, far more dangerous than they should have been. If only there was some way to stop them, to put an end to this terror spreading throughout the cult's ranks.

 I didn't join this cult for it to be invaded and crumble to the ground, she thought to herself bitterly. She bared her fangs and another low hiss left her mouth.

 Utterly ridiculous.

 "And what might you be doing here, little shadow?" scorned an unfamiliar voice behind the nightmare entity. Call whipped around immediately, but wasn't fast enough to stop the spear from embedding itself within her form, right through the middle. She screeched inhumanely and her flame flared as she struggled to dislodge it but the weapon appeared to be limiting her abilities because the entity found that she was growing weaker. Why was the object glowing and oh, N O -

 "S U N L I G H T?!" Call screeched, her form doubling over on itself, agony slowly growing. No, no, n o, n o! How was this even possible?! It had to be magic, it had to be! "H O W?!"

 "I believe you've forgotten that some of us know how to pick our puppets, shadow," the voice said, footsteps stopping directly in front of the entity. Mud-splattered boots. Distinctly Mexican accent.

 Her flame flickered as she started to collapse on herself, a shuddering breath leaving her over-sized fanged mouth. She refused to cry out any further. This was impossible. They couldn't have found her, she couldn't be w e a k.

 "I've already got Muerto but you'll do nicely for a second Beast, don't you agree?" A hand grabbed her hood as Call's form slunk to the ground, hissing violently at the other. She looked up into the stranger's face (Female. In her late twenties by the looks of it. Wild brown eyes that clearly showed her lack of concern for the nightmare entity's suffering. In fact, she was enjoying it thoroughly.) and bared her fangs as menacingly as she could.

 "I AM N O BEAST!"

 The Puppeteer merely laughed, actually throwing back her head as she did so. The action sickened Call. Her flame was flickering unsteadily as her vision started to fade to black.

 No, she needed to stay awake. She couldn't give in to the pain. Then they would win, and these ridiculous foolhardy humans would conquer -

 "So you say now. No matter. This will be fun breaking you in."

 The spear was removed but Call didn't feel the relief of the pain fading, already succumbing to the sweet clutches of unconsciousness.

 H E L P

~~~~~~~~~~

 P A I N

 I'M  N O T  A  B E A S T

 WHEN WILL IT E N D

 She came to with a breathless cry, grimacing at the unexpected coolness of concrete floor against her. She could feel the chill through the thick robes she wore, despite the light warmth of the flame dancing under her hood. Her mid-section ached with a fiery passion and she longed to devour something - preferably nightmares or whatever insolent fleshbag had done this to her.

 Upon raising her head, Call snarled at the sight of a cell door across the room from her. Trapped in a small cell waiting the return of her captor. How time-consuming.

 Still the thought of the small space made something lurch inside her form and she shook herself, trying to wash away those thoughts. There was no longer any room for weakness. Her situation had escalated drastically and now she needed to break out before that Puppeteer returned. She reflected on the words the stranger had uttered earlier which caused another snarl to leave her lips.

 She was no one's Beast. She wasn't human but she certainly wasn't entirely animal.

 The door opened and she slowly started to rise, taking in the appearance of the incomer fully now. The Puppeteer was definitely female with brown well-kept hair, a streak of orange running through a few strands near her hairline. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the creature trying to stand menacingly and obvious mirth tugged at her lips. Call made sure to note that she carried the spear that emitted sunlight close and a pitch black scorpion with a strange red brand on its head rested upon her shoulder.

 "Well, someone is awake, I see. You slept for a good long time, did you know that?"

 "You will pay for this," Call ground out, hiding a grimace as her middle ached when she struggled to straighten her posture. It hurt so much to try to stand, she wasn't sure if she would be doing it anytime soon. She needed a meal and fast.

 The Puppeteer snorted and edged closer, slamming the cell door behind her. The claustrophobic feeling crept back in but Call forced herself not to panic. She could take on this impudent human if she needed to.

 "I hate to burst your bubble, little shadow, but I'm the one in control here. You think you can defeat me?" She extended the weapon towards the entity and Call shrank back instinctively, hissing at the glow pulsing off of the spear. She wasn't afraid of it; she only felt contempt and fury for both it and its master.

 "Since you can barely stand, I think this will be much easier than I anticipated before. Assuming you won't cause much trouble, of course." Call made a note to give this human hell when she slept tonight. If she got out of this encounter alive.

 Funny, she had never killed a human before. She had never felt such a strong desire to until now.

 The thought only encouraged her to hiss at the Puppeteer as she continued speaking, withdrawing something odd from the table in the corner she had not noticed before. "My name is Idalis. You will either call me as such or as Mistress, little shadow. Do you understand? You cannot harm me or Muerto once this is done."

 Death. What a fitting name for a scorpion. "Don't call me that ridiculous name," she growled, her flame flaring angrily. "You are nothing but a pathetic waste of life."

 Idalis only laughed, serving to irritate the entity further. She held up an iron and watched Call for a reaction. When she only received another burst of fire emitting from the green flame under the hood, Idalis curled her lip.

 "I will call you whatever I want. And now I suggest you hold still or this will hurt much much worse than you'll want it to."

 "F O O L!" Call screeched, lunging forward and ignoring the stabbing pain in her physical form. She howled as the spear struck her in the side this time, the light piercing through her form. Struggling to gnash her fangs at the human, she was angered furthermore when Idalis had the nerve to yank away her hood, exposing her true form's ugly face.

 If you could even call it a face. It was more like shifting kaleidoscope of a hybrid of a feral dog and a lion, an emerald flame pulsing in the center with the large gaping mouth directly below it.

 She was momentarily satisfied by the shock and disgust on the other's face, despite her personal agony as the spear dislodged itself from her side. Even now in the dark cell she felt so weak, and she despised it with ever fiber of her being.

 "Definitely a Beast," mocked the Puppeteer as she regained her steely composure. She yanked the nightmare entity closer by her robes with the same hand gripping her spear, sneering as the being tried to maul her face solely with her fangs. The close proximity to the sunlight glowing from the weapon was only making the ache worse but Call didn't dare let it show.

 She lashed out again, mouth opening in a roar to bite her enemy, but Idalis was quicker. The Puppeteer practically slammed the iron against the side of her shifting physical form, right on her "face", and Call's roar transformed in seconds into an unearthly screech. The pain was almost as intense as the agony from the sunlight and she found that her entire form was trembling. She barely managed to make out what Idalis was chanting through gritted teeth in front of her.

 "From my hand to your heart, and my heart in your hold. My strings are your limbs, your limbs are my extensions. Hoof, paw, wing, claw, we move as one. We breathe as one. I the Master, you the Puppet.”

 And out of the agony came the emptiness that soon swallowed her whole.