Star Wars: The Clone Wars - Anakin Skywalker

The Game of Slavery (Prequel Part 1)

Dark Anakin Skywalker kills Dark Ahsoka - My Demons ^^^

OBI-WAN'S POV

It had been one wrong move, one faulted tread of booted feet and like all puzzles doomed to fail with the pieces lost to oblivion, the mission had fallen apart. It had only been a ruse, a risk-ridden yet tactful endeavour to divert attention from the charing teal sphere of Christophsis in hopes of veering the battle to a higher, almost unreachable ground. Yet they had undermined their enemy's perception and underestimated their awareness.

That was the reason Obi-wan stood stoically within the control centre of the Resolute, peering through the vortex of obsidian nothingness, a trail of lapis lazuli stardust the remnants of Grievous's Star Destroyer, the Recusant. He felt devoid of all physical feeling, numb, clutching at the scruff of Ahsoka's shirt to prevent the distraught youth from leaping into her Star-Fighter to begin a fruitless chase after her Master that not even an experienced Space Navigator could possibly decipher.

He too longed to madly search for his dear friend, yet instead he inhaled a quavering breath, purging himself of the chill riddling his soul with the assistance of the Force. He would rescue Anakin; that was a promise he dared not break. Yet where Anakin might be within this very heartbeat was something that no one knew; and the thought concerned Obi-wan more than he wished to admit.

Just hold on, Anakin... Just hold on...

***

A Month Passes

ANAKIN'S POV

The Lightsabre traced down Anakin's side, it's sweltering scarlet trail a blurred flame within his profusely watering sight, its heat seething over the brutally cleaved flesh with the intensity of a moiling, bubbling pool of lava, so precarious and slow that it was pure agony to endure. Even with his eyes squeezed shut against the vial sensation, he could not block out the visions, the memories, the feelings that had been plastered to the skin behind his eyelids, tormenting him with each second he dared to blink. He was immobilised by the energy-fields fastened around his wrists and ankles, suspending his frail being in the centre of the shadowy cell, unable to hide from the mechanical monsters and soulless demons that seemed to resound to no end in this room, ravishing his body in hopes he would divulge information.

Information he could no longer recall...because of the drug...

The drug that was injected senselessly into his bloodstream, any moment when unconsciousness threatened to overwhelm him, when exhaustion became too enticing to ignore. An infestation of thousands of coiling serpents released into his veins, travelling through his arteries until they reach his heart, brain, stomach and lungs. His body would convulse incoherently against his restraints, his sanity evading him, his heart pulsating so frantically that he was certain that he would die from the assault that struck ceaselessly from within. All hopes of sleep were stolen, his reality morphing into a delirious mania of waking nightmares, toying him with psychotic afflictions that he couldn't control.

Anakin was gnawing on his tongue to prevent the shrieks from spilling over his lips, acidic blood and strangled sobs lodged within his throat, suffocating him from within. No thoughts penetrated through the acrid blanket of pain-ridden fog that hammered against his brain, the fringe of his perception shrinking with the darkness rapidly honing in. A constant, ticking throb overtook every cell within his body, resonating from his head, chest, stomach, even to the very tip of his toes.

The Force had been shredded from his grasp, as was his senses, as was his freedom to his own body. He'd been abandoned to the dark...

"Tell me the bases of the Republic supply lines," hissed a voice that caused a shiver of dread to slither down his spin. Dooku. "And I promise to deliver a painless end to your suffering..."