Path Into the Darkness

Part Five: Grune

Chapter Two: Darker and Darker

 

***Third Moon of Plundarr, Present Time***

 

Luna turned the page in the journal to see what might have happened next, but unfortunately, that was where the journal ended.  “Worthless junk.  It doesn’t even have a conclusive ending,” she said with disgust, and tossed the book aside.  Her gaze wandered over to the window.  She noticed the sky darkening again outside, and a quick glance at the clock told her that several hours had passed while she was reading Grune’s journal.  Resentment boiled within her once more at that realization.  That Frostor had nerve, she thought bitterly, locking her up alone in the officers’ quarters against her will and then trying to get back into her good graces by giving her a book to read while he did what she should have been doing as well—trying to find Selene and Psiarik in the mass of rubble outside that was once all of their home.  And even worse, Frostor’s cheesy method of distracting her had actually worked, for a time anyway.

 

It also did not sit well with Luna that so much time had passed with no word at all.  Frostor had promised her that he would come and let her know as soon as anything had been found, and as much as he annoyed her, she could not say that he was not reliable.  If he said that he was going to do something, nine times out of ten he would.  So what did that mean then?  Were the royals lost?  When would they be found, and could they still be alive?  A terrible feeling gnawed at her stomach.  In the past, Luna had grown used to worry and apprehension.  She had lived with those feelings long enough all those years she had been on the run, and a good few years prior to that on the Third Moon before she and her crew were brought to “justice” and fled in self-imposed exile.  For the last five years, however, Luna had lived a relatively stress-free and easy life, and for the first time she had someone other than Amok who actually gave a damn if she lived or died and she had come to appreciate that—at least she had until that Thundercat and her ghosts showed up and ruined it all.

 

The lunar woman let out a frustrated yell and punched the side of the couch she sat upon.  It had no effect other than making a small, temporary dent in the fabric and stinging her tiny fingers.  This situation is utterly intolerable, she thought miserably.  How long does Frostor intend on keeping me locked up, or as he so snidely put it, “detained in everyone’s best interests”?  She didn’t know the answer to her question, but she could not take being stuck inside and virtually helpless with no new information on Selene for much longer.

 

Her eyes fell on the journal again.  While Grune the Mighty, or as he was later known, the Destroyer, had never been a favorite of hers, she did have to admit that the sabertooth had been an interesting individual and at the moment a somewhat welcome distraction.  The last entry in the journal had been so confusing and emotional.  In the past Luna had wondered what exactly it had been that had persuaded Grune to change his mind, leave the Thundercats, and seek out Kalin again.  It had never made sense to her that the scandalous pictures of Kalin and Grune that Kalin had messengered to Grune’s girlfriend were enough to get the Thundercat to turn his back on those he’d once sworn to defend until the day he died.  Those cats were so honorable, Luna had been certain that Grune’s sweetheart would forgive his little indiscretion, especially when he told her on his honor that nothing had happened between him and Kalin.  Little did he know, Luna mused, thinking back upon the entry that had discussed the revelation that Claudus had bedded his girlfriend while he was away, because she had thought Grune had cheated on her.  No wonder he got sick of them and left, Luna thought.  I would have gotten sick of them much earlier just for spouting their sanctimonious morality ad nauseum, but that’s just me.

 

The tiny Lunatac let out a cynical laugh, and allowed her thoughts to drift back to the night so many years ago when Grune had made his return to her old club on the Third Moon.

 

 

***Third Moon of Plundarr, Thirty-Some Years Earlier***

 

 

As the ship descended into the darkened atmosphere of the large moon below, Grune stared out the small, dirty window beside his seat.  Finding a direct transport to the enemy territory of the Third Moon of Plundarr had not been easy, but he had found a way to do it nonetheless.  The sabertooth was not entirely sure why he was going there, but he supposed it was because he simply didn’t know where else to go that someone would understand his feelings.  His anger, his betrayal, his absolute rage.  On Thundera, the Thundercats were heroes.  They could do no wrong.  Jaga had said it himself, he should forgive and forget.  Well, some things can’t be forgiven or forgotten, Thundercats, Grune thought darkly.

 

Grune closed his eyes and clenched his fists.  Because of his inability to forgive, to let it go, to let it slide and to let Claudus get away with what he had done it was all gone.  His love was lost, his friends had betrayed him, and he was no longer a Thundercat.  His ties were severed, his life on Thundera as he knew it was over.  And it had all been his decision.

 

The image of Jaga’s shocked face when he had torn off his insignia flashed once again through his mind.  I can’t dwell on that now, I can’t worry about what might have been.  Amidst the whirling emotions of anger and bitterness, there was a slight and fleeting feeling of regret, but that was quickly overwhelmed when the more vivid and disgusting visualization of Claudus and Scarlette in bed together took shape.  Grune felt the fires of rage burning deep inside him, and the desire to do exact revenge in ways Thundercats should not even think about.  Oh, how he hated them both for hurting him like that!

 

The noise of the ship’s engines changed somewhat, followed by the sound of the ship’s landing gear descending, snapping Grune out of his destructive reverie.  He was now on the Third Moon of Plundarr, whether he liked it or not.  Kalin’s homeland.  And he intended to go and see her again. 

 

Silently the sabertooth gathered his things and exited the ship.  He needed to go to someone who would welcome him, someone who would understand, and he was pretty sure Kalin fit that description.  With the restraint that had been his relationship with Scarlette now broken, there was nothing to hold him back from indulging his attraction to the hunter, and since his association with the Thundercats was severed as well, there was no conflict of interest to concern himself with either.  He now had all the freedom he needed to indulge in the things that tempted him, and he had every intention of doing just that.

 

As Grune made his way down the busy halls of the Lunar capitol city’s spaceport, he caught more than a few strange and decidedly unfriendly looks from the resident Lunatacs.  A loud growl and a threatening gesture from the burly sabertooth was more than enough to keep most of the antagonists away, however.  Like the urban-dwelling Thunderians, most of the Lunatacs that lived in the city were more citizens than anything else—poorly trained fighters at best, with an inbred nasty streak that made them a bit dangerous, but not a real threat to a specially trained ex-Thundercat.  Only an equally well-trained warrior or mage, perhaps, would be able to get the better of someone like him.

 

Grune walked around until he found the spot outside an exit in the port where taxis and vehicles were available for rented transportation.  As he might have expected, none of the native drivers seemed particularly enthusiastic about picking a Thunderian like him up.  Of course, when he pulled out a large wad of cash from his pocket and waved it at one of the “too busy to take on another passenger” drivers, the tune changed quite a bit, and before he knew it he had his choice of transportation.  Grune settled on a taxi belonging to a chubby and out of shape darkling.  A quick and silent evaluation assured the sabertooth that the Lunatac would last about five seconds if he tried anything treacherous on him, and more importantly, the darkling did not seem particularly intimidated when Grune gave him the address he wanted to be taken to—something the other drivers balked at.  That fact amused Grune slightly, especially when he remembered that the palace guard who had taken him there during his diplomatic visit had a similar reaction.  It seems that Kalin and the rest of that Luna’s crew hang out on the bad side of town, he mused, and chuckled a bit.  To him, any place involving more than a few Lunatacs was a bad part of town.

 

Before long, Grune climbed out of the taxi and handed the driver more of his cash than he would have liked to part with—such was the price of a ride to an unsavory part of the city—and found himself standing in front of that seedy club whose occupants had so disgusted him during his last visit.  “Never thought I’d wind up here again,” he muttered, and shook his mane in disbelief.  He looked up as if to confirm to himself that he was really going through with it, and then without any further hesitation, he walked over and opened the door only to find that this time no bouncer was posted there.  Curious as to what had brought about the apparent lack of security, he strolled inside.

 

Almost immediately, all the conversations and activity in the room within stopped and all eyes in the place fixed on him.  Then, a moment or so later, the whispering began, accompanying the shocked stares.  

 

“Is that a Thundercat?  Here?”

 

“What is one of them doing here?”  

 

“Isn’t that the one that showed up a while ago?”  

 

“What does he want?”  

 

Grune did his best to ignore the reaction his presence invoked and pressed onward towards the bar in the back.  It was then that he heard a loud comment from a Lunatac whose voice he vaguely recognized.  “Oh look at what we have here,” the suave and slightly drunken voice exclaimed with false enthusiasm.  “It seems someone forgot to put the cat out for the night.”  That was followed by a round of drunken laughter from several other Lunatacs at one of the larger tables beside the bar.

 

Now visibly annoyed, Grune spun around and scowled at the loudmouth.  He realized that he had been right, he did recognize him.  The Lunatac was Alluro, one of the ones Kalin worked with, the tall psi who that ditzy noble Lurella had brought to the banquet.  Grune wondered again what a woman with class and breeding was doing with a sleaze such as him, and Grune thought nastily that he was probably hypnotizing her.  Of all Lunatacs, Grune trusted psis the least.  They did not have any special physical advantages to use to go after their victims directly, so they resorted to mental manipulation and games instead.  That psi in particular struck him as one of the most arrogant and shifty he had ever come across, too.  Grune snarled at him, his lips curling back in a gesture of irritation.  “Where’s Kalin?” he demanded.

 

Another one at the table, a darkling called RedEye that he recognized from the same banquet at the palace, downed a shot of some foul and strong smelling alcohol, and let out a drunken snort at the sabertooth’s question.  “We don’t keep tabs on her or her bestial boyfriends.”  A second round of nasty laughter followed that remark.

 

Grune slammed his fists down on the center of their table, causing it to shake violently enough that it knocked over the graviton’s drink.  “I’m not going to play games,” Grune growled.  “I’ll ask again, where is she?”

 

The four Lunatacs at the table lost their humor for the situation and stood, reaching for their weapons, their expressions changed from amused to threatening.  Mocking a Thunderian was one thing, tolerating pushiness from one was quite another.  “I suggest you not overstep your bounds here, feline,” the psi warned coldly.

 

“That’s right,” continued the graviton whose beer he spilt with a glare.  He slammed his empty metal stein down on the table and pointed his cannon-like weapon at Grune instead.  “Just because one of our associates has the bad taste to want to fuck you, doesn’t mean we won’t kill you—especially if you barge in here asking for it.”

 

What would have likely turned into a nasty brawl seconds later was diffused when Kalin appeared, seemingly from nowhere.  “TugMug, Alluro, back off,” she said dismissively, and then suggestively squeezed Grune’s shoulder.  “My my, what’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” she asked in a tone that held shades of both flirtatiousness and sarcasm.

 

Grune whirled around and faced the hunter, his aggravation with the others momentarily forgotten as he locked eyes with her beautiful and deadly gaze once again.  Kalin’s eyes twinkled with obvious amusement, and her lips curled into smile of similar sentiment.  This time she was dressed in what Grune guessed were her more functional clothes, a tight black bodysuit accented by a belt with a large crescent moon at the center.  A few small weapons which he couldn’t immediately identify were sheathed upon her belt, and her long evergreen hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, away from her face.

 

Kalin stepped closer, eyeing him intently.  “I must say, Grune, I hardly expected to see you back here so soon, especially after your abrupt departure last time.  Have you come to apologize?”

 

Her words made him bristle, despite everything that had happened earlier with the Thundercats.  She expected him to apologize to her?  She certainly has nerve, he thought, half annoyed and half amused by her attitude.  He wondered idly if it was a bad sign that he found her attitude charming at all, when he should have found her coy and sneaky manner reprehensible, as any respectable Thundercat would.  But he was not a respectable Thundercat anymore, was he?  No, I’m not, his inner voice growled in stern argument to the conflict.  “Hello Kalin,” he greeted her coolly.

 

The hunter nodded in acknowledgement, and then gave him a questioning look.  “So why are you here?” she asked again.

 

“Not to apologize,” Grune retorted.  “But you were right about something.”

 

Kalin’s eyebrows shot up and a smug grin spread across her face at his response.  “Oh, but I like to think I’m always right, Grune.  So tell me, what exactly was I right about?  Indulge me and refresh my memory,” she said coyly.

 

“I’m in no mood for your games, so don’t start,” the sabertooth growled dismissively, although his voice was beginning to lose its defensive edge as he became more relaxed in her presence.  Not being with the Thundercats, and more specifically with Scarlette, anymore gave him the freedom not to concern himself with staying true to any Code, which made it rather hard for her to string him along in any game involving them.  “I had a falling out with the other Thundercats.  They’re nothing but liars and hypocrites, preaching their high and mighty Code while they follow their own sleazy agendas when they think no one’s looking.”

 

“Not as perfect as they like to pretend they are, huh?” TugMug sneered, packing his carbine back onto his back.  “Welcome to reality, feline.” 

 

Kalin meanwhile did her best to ignore TugMug and prodded Grune for more details instead.  “What did they do that has you so riled up, Grune?”

 

Grune snarled as he recalled the events at Cat’s Lair again.  “While I was busy worrying about hurting Scarlette, she was busy rutting with my distinguished Lord Claudus to console herself after she heard some rumor that I cheated on her with you—which you and I both know was pure bullshit.”

 

“Mmm, unfortunately yes,” Kalin purred smugly.  “So your tigress wasn’t as loyal to you as you were to her.  I tried to tell you that your morality, while admirable to some, is not very practical,” she said with a shrug, and patted him sympathetically on the arm.  “So did you have nowhere else to go but here after you beat the tar out of your leader and your two-timing tigress?” she pressed.

 

“I didn’t touch her,” Grune snapped angrily.  He realized as he spoke the words that he wished he could have struck the lying little wench, dishonorable an urge as it was.  “And I was stopped from doing Claudus any of the bodily harm he deserved.”

 

Kalin raised an eyebrow.  “And then?”

 

“They had the nerve to insist I forgive and forget, because they were sorry, and because they were owed that being Thundercats,” he spat bitterly.  “The fact that I was a Thundercat—that they betrayed me—didn’t matter though.  They made it out like it was my fault, that I had the problem.  That there was something wrong with me for not forgiving.”  He growled, pausing for a moment, before continuing.  “They implied that they wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been with you, never mind that we didn’t do anything, was the reason they crawled into bed at the first chance.  That their weakness was my fault.”  His words tumbled out in an angry rush.  The feelings of anger, resentment, and fury welled up in him once again as he spoke, venom dripping from his tone as he relayed the incident to Kalin.  “And when I couldn’t make nice and tell them I accepted their apology, their sleazy behavior, they brand me the villain—the unforgiving, hot-tempered, cold-hearted bastard.”  He shook with visible anger as he finished his sentence.  “Their hypocrisy knows no bounds, and I will have no part of Lord Claudus or those that follow him again.”

 

“We could have told you that much about those pompous cats,” RedEye interjected.  “They think they’re better than everyone.  Why do you think we hate them so much?”

 

“Especially when it’s common knowledge that we are truly the superior beings,” Alluro added arrogantly.

 

Grune snarled at the Lunatacs’ statements, but did not respond to them directly.  Instead he fixed his eyes on Kalin, who seemed more understanding—or at least less snide—and looked to her for a spark of acceptance.  Perhaps it was a wild shot in the dark for him to expect a Lunatac to understand him, but he already had struck out with the Thunderians he trusted, and by the gods, Kalin appealed to him.  Whether it was just the base sexual desire of his male psyche she aroused or something deeper was yet to be seen, but that was good enough for him then. 

 

“You tried to tell me that I didn’t belong with them, that I had potential to be so much more than that Code would allow.  I didn’t believe you… gods, I barely listened to you… but I think perhaps I should have.  You were right, they were holding me back,” he said seriously, fixing his amber feline eyes upon her luminous lunar ones.  “If they can twist and bend the rules to suit their needs and get away with it, why shouldn’t I do the same and spare myself the misery of being the only one always doing the right thing—whatever that is?”

 

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Kalin said, sipping at a drink she was handed from the bartender.  She motioned for the barman to pour another, and once he did she passed it to Grune.  

 

To both of their surprise, Grune accepted the drink and took a big swig of the high-proof liquor.  Its taste was enough to curl his tongue and its strength burned his throat, and the combined sensation nearly choked him.  The sabertooth had not consumed one ounce of alcohol since he had joined the Thundercats years ago, at the time believing that anything less than complete sobriety interfered with his judgment and clarity.  But hells, he’d gotten burned anyway, hadn’t he?  So why not just drink, then, he reasoned, and downed the rest of the glass without a single regret.  “Another,” he snarled to the bartender.  Kalin gave the barman a nod of approval, and the surprised Lunatac poured Grune another drink.  As the feline reached to take it, he could already feel the warm, tingling sensations from the first drink spreading through his body.

 

“I thought you didn’t drink,” Kalin commented curiously.

 

“I didn’t used to drink,” Grune corrected her.  “But there are a lot of things that I didn’t used to do that I would now.”

 

Kalin caught the suggestive tone in the sabertooth’s voice, and slid closer to him, leaning in a provocative pose as she did.  “Such as?”

 

It was then Grune’s turn to display a smug grin.  “If you’d like to go somewhere that we can be alone, I’ll show you.”  He swallowed the contents of his second glass in one gulp, and put a suggestive arm around Kalin’s shoulders.  

 

The hunter noticed the amused stares of her cohorts at the overt sexual overtones of the conversation, and out of the corner of her eye she caught a prodding look from Luna, watching with some others in their crew from a different table a bit farther back in the room.  Kalin realized that Luna still wished for her to go ahead with the initial plan of seducing the sabertooth so that he might be susceptible to their manipulations and able to give them connections on Thundera.  While some might have found such a task amoral, Kalin did not.  It was practical, and she was not the type naïve or foolish enough only to associate sexual pleasure with love when it could so easily get her other things she needed.  Besides, it wasn’t as though she found Grune unattractive.  Orders from Luna or not, Kalin might very well have pursued him for some fun on her own.  

 

The hunter licked her lips seductively.  “Hmmm... well now... are you sure you can handle me?” she questioned teasingly.  “Lunatacs, especially us hunters, are not as gentle as you pussycats.”

 

Grune growled and grabbed her arm tightly in a feral display of arousal.  “Who ever said I’m gentle?  Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, so to speak, Lunatac?  Or is it you that can’t handle me?”

 

“I can handle anything you’ve got to give,” Kalin retorted arrogantly.  In one fast and smooth motion, she disentangled herself from Grune’s hold and took hold of his wrist in a viselike grip of her own.  She gave his arm a rough tug and, studiously ignoring the leers of her Lunatac peers, led him out of the main room and through a door in the back of the bar.  The pair found themselves in a poorly lit hallway with a winding set of stairs at the far end.  Kalin brought him to the foot of the stairwell and pressed the sabertooth against the wall.  “Last chance to back out, kitty-cat,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his and the inviting curves of her body against his furred muscles.

 

“Not a chance.”  Grune locked his powerful hands on her waist and brought her in for a rough and savage kiss, while his hands slid from her hips down across her buttocks in a lecherous display of desire.

 

Kalin giggled devilishly and met his eyes, not intimidated in the least and more than a little excited by his aggressiveness.  “Then follow me,” she ordered.  With that she turned, allowing Grune’s eager fingers to grab another handful of her curvaceous rear as she did, before reclaiming that hand to lead him up the stairs and through one of the several doors in the hallway atop them.  

 

When they went inside, Grune noticed that her room was a small one, containing only a bed, closet, and a Spartan collection of other furniture.  Apparently the hunter wasn’t much for possessions, but then again, Kalin was from a primitive jungle society to begin with, so Grune supposed that was to be expected.  The sound of the door slamming shut and locking behind him caused Grune to turn and face his would-be lover, who leaned against the closed door in a pose that only enhanced the voluptuous curves of her body further.  “Your move, tiger,” she whispered huskily.

 

“I’m a sabertooth,” he growled lustily, eyeing her with decidedly bad intent in her body-hugging uniform.  Somewhere in the back of his head a fading voice of reason pleaded with him to stop, turn back, and do whatever it took to end the insanity that had brought him to that place with that woman, but Grune was far beyond listening to that voice, especially when the roar of his libido and the howl of his wounded pride protested.  His sense was quickly silenced, and when he pulled her into hot and demanding kiss, it was seemingly silenced for good.

 

The hunter returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, pressing her body against his and flexing her natural hunter claws against his sable fur.  Kalin offered no resistance when he lifted her up, his hands shamelessly groping and exploring her body as he brought her the few steps from the door to the bed.  The pair tumbled onto the mattress in a heap, and Grune used the opportunity to acquaint himself with the enticing breasts that had caught his attention moments ago.

 

Kalin tingled with pleasure as Grune touched her, not only enjoying the sensation of his touch but the fact that she had clearly emerged victorious in the battle of wills to make him hers.  She nipped and nuzzled the soft fur of his neck, a gesture common not only to hunters but to all aroused Lunatacs.  “Not that I don’t like this,” she whispered seductively, “but wouldn’t you rather I get out of these first?”  She gestured to her clothing and gave it a little tug, exposing a slight hint more of her breasts, a sight Grune drank in eagerly both with his eyes and his fingertips.  He growled an emphatic yes to her question.

 

With surprising strength, Kalin rolled over from beneath Grune and pushed him down upon the covers beneath her, reversing their positions so that she was now straddling his midsection.  She laughed lightly at the surprised expression on his face.  “Don’t tell me you thought a Lunatac would be that easy to dominate?” she laughed, pulling off one of her boots while still keeping him pinned.  “Maybe a lunar or a psi, but certainly not a hunter.”  She proceeded to wriggle out of the skintight clothes she wore, exposing her flesh a little at a time, leaving the sabertooth panting with anticipation beneath her.  She could feel his eyes burning into her, tracing every detail of her body, and took full note of the rising lump in his pants that came as a result of her teasing.  She laid one hand upon his chest to hold him down and brought the other to stroke his manhood lightly through the clothing he still wore, and met his eyes with an intense gaze.  “Your turn.”

 

Not bothering to reply verbally, Grune instead reached up and took hold of Kalin, spending a few extra moments to explore her naked form more fully.  She let out noises of excitement and pleasure as he teased her, his fingers tracing the parts of her most forbidden and then delving deeper, not waiting for permission or invitation.  He let out a pleased growl as she thrashed willingly atop him, her claws raking at his arms and chest as his fingers probed her intimately, and he continued to toy with her until his desire to progress the act to the next level overwhelmed his urge to dominate her. 

 

Grune then withdrew his hands and eased her backward so he could divest himself of his own garments.  Kalin rolled off of him and stretched out upon the bed beside him, locking her eyes upon his strong feline form as he unceremoniously stripped out of what remained of his old Thundercat uniform.  She was quite pleased to note that Grune was even more a muscular and manly specimen in his naked form than his clothed one indicated, and she found him incredibly exciting in his own wild way.  Many Lunatacs, especially in the city, were too civilized, too urban for Kalin’s tastes, so it was little wonder that the more feral hunter found the sabertooth Thunderian so appealing.  

 

As soon as his clothing was discarded, Grune crawled over the covers and met Kalin, and before he even realized how quickly it happened, he found the excited Lunatac entwined around his body, touching and stroking him everywhere.  Fighting for some semblance of control, Grune grasped Kalin and pushed her down against the sheets beneath him, pinning him beneath her by virtue of sheer mass.  He kissed the Lunatac woman hungrily, unable to stop himself at that point even if he had wanted to, and thrust into her, committing the act that once and for all ended the cat and mouse game they had been playing for what seemed to him like so long.

 

Once the act began, the pair of lovers thrashed about on the sheets for hours, growling and groaning and moving with such passion that a casual observer might almost have mistaken their lust for a form of combat.  Howls of pain were freely mixed with howls of pleasure, while bites and scratches were exchanged as freely as the kisses and caresses.  Bringing one another to climax became a test of domination rather than an expression of affection or generosity, and it seemed each would only give in to the other when they could no longer stand to hold out.  The games continued with brief sessions of rest until the two of them were utterly spent, and after that incredibly exhausting and thoroughly satisfying tryst, the two of them wordlessly held one another in their arms and relished the indescribable feeling of closeness and fulfilled desire.  

 

As they laid together in the darkness of the bedroom afterward, Grune’s thoughts swirled and churned and tried to make sense of all that had happened in the past day or so.  One part of him felt as though a great burden had been lifted from his psyche—that something within him that he had buried deeply for too long was finally set free and he could now live as he was meant to.  Something about the vicious, deadly, but oh-so-inviting woman in his arms brought that out in him, and it made him feel as though he was alive in a way that nothing ever had before.  It occurred to Grune that when he had been with the Thundercats, he had been so proud of his reputation for valor and honor.  That reputation had been something he treasured, something he had struggled to obtain through discipline and strict control, something that he’d spent his entire life working for… working for… in that it was something that had never come naturally to him.  It had been something that was contrary to his natural impulses—something that was, in a sense, simply not him.  

 

The realization came as a shock to him.  I’m not meant to be one of them, Grune realized.  So what am I meant to be?  

 

He glanced down at the deadly assassin curled up next to him.  You could be like her.  You could live free, take what you want, and have all that you deserve, a soft and alluring dark voice inside him urged.  He recalled Kalin saying on that very first night that they had met that she believed the Code of Thundera restrained him and held him back.  At the time he’d balked, believing such a thing could never be possible... yet, just a few weeks later, there he was in her arms, finally realizing that it was true.  

 

Grune pulled Kalin’s sleepy form closer to his body and nuzzled her for a moment, savoring the sensation of having the object of his lusty attentions so close.  Take what I want... yes, I’ll do that... he thought dreamily as he drifted off into a light sleep.

 

The Lunatac beside him had no such conflicting feelings.  There was only one thought on Kalin’s mind, and it danced through her head victoriously and filled her with almost as much delight and satisfaction as their lovemaking had.  That thought was:  I won, and you’re mine.

 

* * *

 

The next few months passed in a blur for Grune.  Once he and Kalin consummated their relationship, they became inseparable.  Within days of their carnal union, Kalin began bringing her new lover along to certain “meetings” that her work entailed.  At first they were simple tasks—mostly collecting money due to Luna and the club from various lowlifes who had borrowed from her.  Among her numerous shady dealings, the rogue lunar noble was a loan shark.  More than a couple of her employees or associates were there not so much out of greed or a desire to be in the lifestyle as they were for the simple fact that they owed her money and they had the stomach for the things she needed done to pay her back by working for her.  Sometimes the task of collection went easily.  A beating here, intimidation and threats there, and more often than not the individuals paid up or found a way to otherwise appease her. 

 

When Grune handled those “outings” to Luna’s satisfaction, Kalin began bringing him along on more involved jobs, such as silencing individuals who threatened to leak information that could be used against their organization by the royals, and simply eliminating others who got in their way.  Grune was horrified by much of the seamier side of life in the Third Moon capitol initially, but quickly and frighteningly so, he recovered from that… and began to join in.

 

At first Grune refused to let himself go too far.  While the sabertooth was at that point in time a jaded and embittered soul, he really did not believe that he was an evil man, or that what he was doing was all that wrong.  After all, he had learned the hard way that the universe was a tough and cold place, where only those who were strong or fast enough could make it.  Many years ago he had believed that becoming a Thundercat was the ultimate way he could do his part to make the universe a better place—and look where that had gotten him.  Now, he felt older and wiser, and he realized he had been wrong and naïve.  In his attempt to make things better for others, he had neglected himself, and since it had been made abundantly clear that no one was looking out for him in return, he got shafted—by the Thundercats, by Lord Claudus, even by his beloved ex-fiancée Scarlette.  There was no one he could count on, no one to take care of him, but himself.  And, by the gods, he was going to do just that.

 

As the weeks wore on, Grune found himself seduced more and more by the lure of power over others.  He had known the feeling of being respected and admired by others in his days as a Thundercat, but the ultimate control he got when using fear and intimidation to keep those he considered beneath him in line was beyond anything he had experienced before.  He felt an intoxicating rush each time he would rough someone up or threaten him, and a dark part of him enjoyed watching the pathetic individual beneath him babble in terror for him to just take or do what he wanted, if only he would spare his miserable life.  And he would... Grune never thought of himself as a killer.  

 

Before long, that changed too.

 

The first death came with surprising ease.  He was with Kalin and one other Lunatac, the graviton called TugMug.  They had gone on Luna’s request to demand payment from a lowlife group who worked on the edges of the city.  What they did not know was that they were expected and were walking into an ambush.  Somehow the leader of the group had gotten word that Luna’s people were coming, and they were waiting for them.  Grune, Kalin, and TugMug were attacked as they entered the building, but their assailants did not stand a ghost of a chance against them.  Kalin had two of their throats slit and was standing above a third growling before the fifth weapon was discharged.  TugMug fared equally well, easily slaying those who attacked him with a combination of superior strength and skill with his gravity carbine.  Two others jumped Grune, but he threw them off without much effort.  A third managed to wrap his arms around the sabertooth’s neck in a poor attempt to get him into a choke hold.  It would prove to be a fatal move for the unfortunate Lunatac.  In a rage, Grune took hold of his assailant’s legs and tore him off of his back.  There were few, except for well-trained panther Thunderians, graviton Lunatacs, and brute Lunatacs such as Luna’s oversized bodyguard who could match the strength of Grune the Mighty.  Grune’s attacker was no exception, and he flailed helplessly in the feline’s grasp for a few moments before Grune slammed him into the floor.

 

Once he had the Lunatac pinned beneath him, the sabertooth began to beat him, harder than he had ever hit any living creature before.  Grune had a metal knuckle-mace on, but he didn’t care.  At that moment it was like a dam inside him had burst, and all of his rage released at once.  His fist and weapon struck the unfortunate Lunatac over and over again.  He squealed and struggled beneath the raging sabertooth, but he was no match for Grune in his adrenaline fury.  The ex-Thundercat was so caught up in the pure thrill of releasing his pent up emotion that he barely saw what he was doing.  A detached part of him could hear the bones of the ill-fated Lunatac beneath him snapping, and felt the hot splashes of his blood that spattered against his fur—but it didn’t stop him.  Grune was also vaguely aware of his victim’s pitiful, whimpering cries and pleas for mercy.  That didn’t stop him either.  The enraged sabertooth delivered a few more blows, and the screaming and the struggling stopped, leaving only a deathly stillness and silence hanging in the air.  

 

Grune’s victim had been the last to die, for those Kalin and TugMug had dealt with were already dead, and the few others in the ambush who were able to get away had long since fled for their lives.  When the fight ceased, and Grune came to his senses, he looked down and saw a bloody, battered mess beneath him.  To say that the Lunatac was dead would have been an understatement.  Every limb in his body lay at a twisted, unnatural angle.  One of his horns had been physically torn from his head, while his skull was cracked wide open, exposing the gray matter of his brain and an impossible amount of maroon blood that stained the floor and his shiny chocolate fur.

 

When it was all over, TugMug was the first to speak, and even then, all the graviton could do was shake his head and mumble an astonished, “Damn....”

 

Kalin meanwhile stood over Grune and his victim, eyeing her lover with predatory interest.  While she knew already that he had the capacity to be deadly, she had never witnessed it being taken so far before.

 

The emotional high of his rage faded and Grune stared in wide-eyed shock at what he had done.  “I—I killed him.”

 

“To say the least,” Kalin remarked coolly.  Grune made no reply, and when Kalin bent over and saw Grune’s haunted expression, she extended her hand to help him to his feet.  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, meeting his gaze.  “You’re feeling that Thundercat guilt of yours again.  You think you’ve done something wrong.  Well you haven’t.  He deserved to die.  He attacked you, and you know that he would have killed you without a second thought.  Besides, he was a loser.  Trust me, it’s no great loss.  You’re doing the universe a favor by removing weak slime like him from it.”

 

“But killing is wrong,” he stated, his voice emotionless as he stared at the bloody mess at his feet.

 

“Please,” TugMug snorted, unimpressed by the sabertooth’s dramatics.  “It didn’t bother you a couple of minutes ago when you splattered his brains across the concrete.”

 

Kalin slid her hand slowly along the length of Grune’s arm.  “Killing is wrong only if you’re a Thundercat and live by some outdated code of behavior that only lets others who don’t follow it take advantage of you.  You aren’t one of them anymore, Grune.  You’re better than them.  You don’t live by their standards just to be miserable.  You’ve been there and done that.”  She pulled him closer, meeting his eyes with an intense gaze.  “Forget them, and tell me honestly... how did it feel when you delivered him his fatal blow?”

 

Grune did not realize he was still trembling.  “I...”

 

“You liked it, didn’t you?” Kalin pressed, her eyes alit with excitement.

 

“No,” he protested with a growl.

 

“You’re lying, and we all know it,” Kalin countered.  TugMug nodded from behind Kalin and wheeled toward the exit, leaving Grune there to wallow in his moral dilemma while he did the practical thing, which was to get their vehicle started so they could leave before any royal guardsmen showed up to investigate. 

 

Kalin meanwhile drew herself more into Grune’s personal space.  “I could see it in your eyes and your manner that you liked it.  Don’t bother to argue with me.  We hunters may not be psychics or empaths, but our senses are keen enough to pick up on the emotional states of others.  I watched you, Grune, and I know what you were feeling with each move you made.  Each time you delivered a blow to him you felt an exciting rush of pure power, an intoxicating urge that led you to go faster and harder... until the climactic, final release of death claimed him, and you were the undisputed victor.”

 

Grune growled, mostly because there was more than a spark of truth in what she said.  “That’s sick.”

 

“That’s the truth,” Kalin replied flatly.  “I know exactly what it’s like.  How many times do you think I’ve killed?”

 

“I don’t want to know.”

 

Kalin only smiled, and led him back through the exit where TugMug was now waiting with their vehicle.  As they walked, Kalin slid an arm around the shaken sabertooth’s waist.  “Grune, you seem tired.  Maybe this has been too much for you at once.  What would you say to a little getaway, just the two of us?”

 

“What do you mean?” Grune asked.

 

“I mean,” Kalin said, stopping for a moment and looking intently into his amber eyes, “I want you to go away with me for the next couple of weeks.  I do this every so often, and I’ve already arranged the time off with Luna.  I’m sure it would be no trouble if you were to come along.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Somewhere that I think would do us both good,” Kalin answered.  “The place I came from.  Serilune.  The hunters’ village, deep in the jungles.”

 

Grune blinked, surprised.  Whatever he had expected Kalin to say, that was not it.  “You want to take me to your home?”

 

“It’s not my home, it’s where I came from,” she corrected him.  “Technically my home is here in the capitol city.  I return only to participate in the… events.  There’s one scheduled to take place soon, and I want you to join me, Grune.  I think it will help you put everything in perspective.”

 

Grune’s curiosity was piqued.  “What kind of event?”

 

“The Hunt.”  

 

The calm, deadly tone in her reply sent chills down his spine.  “A hunt for what?” he asked, although he was not sure he really wanted to know the answer.

 

A twisted smile spread across Kalin’s lips.  “The most deadly and challenging prey of all.”  She paused for a moment, savoring the bewildered look on the Thunderian’s features for a few seconds before continuing her explanation.  “There’s nothing like it—exploring your predatory roots, the thrill of chasing down prey, hunting it, and then killing it with your bare hands, knowing that you are unstoppable, powerful, almost invincible.”  She sighed, lost for a moment in the rapture of her fantasy before she met his gaze again.  “Trust me, Grune.  I wouldn’t have invited you if I hadn’t seen what I saw in you today, and I know that you have it in you to not only excel at it, but revel in it.”  She squeezed his shoulder and nuzzled against him.  “Will you go with me?”

 

Grune pulled Kalin closer and stroked her silky evergreen hair.  There was a time, not too long ago, when he would have said “no” without a second thought, when he would have walked away from that awful, evil place and never looked back.  Even at that moment, when the ever fading voice of conscience pleaded with him in vain once again to stop, he chose once more not to listen.  The only thing he did listen to, the only thing he wanted to listen to, was his lover.  She hadn’t steered him wrong yet.  “Yes.”

 

“Excellent,” Kalin whispered, and drew herself to his lips for a lingering, seductive kiss.

 

They were interrupted moments later when TugMug honked the horn of their vehicle loudly and impatiently.  “If you two slow-asses don’t get in right now, I’m going to leave you here,” the graviton snapped in his heavy First Moon accent.

 

Grune and Kalin broke apart and climbed into the vehicle without another word, and TugMug sped off toward Luna’s club.  In the back seat, Grune and Kalin sat close together in relative silence, until Grune broke it minutes later with a question.  “Kalin, about this trip... when do we leave?” he asked.

 

Kalin grinned and curled up against him.  “We leave tomorrow.”

 

 

Continued

 

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