The Cave
Rory V. Pascual
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story was written as part of the Round Robin project on the HIGHLANDER MAVERICKS list. Under the general title "Highlander In Paradise", the RR focuses on Duncan and Methos' adventures on a deserted island after their plane crashed. Each of the RR participants were asked to choose a topic they would develop their fic around. Unlike other standard RRs, the fics need not be linked together. This way, everyone is free to explore and expand her own topic without being limited by the fics that came before nor influence the fics that would come after, EXCEPT the first and last stories. The results, so far, have been very, very impressive.Copyrighted by Rory V. Pascual, February 26, 2001.
PART ONE:
"Are you sure you're going to be all right?" Methos asked, looking at his young lover with concern.
"Yes, I'll be fine," Duncan assured him, the listlessness in his voice apparent. "Just make sure you get back after two weeks."
"Mac, why don't you come with me? I could use the company."
The Highlander smiled wanly. "I don't think you'd want me around. Believe me, Methos. We need the space from each other."
Grudgingly, the Old Man nodded his head. Methos knew that their imposed solitude on the island was weighing heavily upon both of them. In recent days, they quarreled over the smallest things. Even sex was no longer the pleasurable pursuit that it was the first few weeks. Often, he had wondered if he had made a mistake in seducing Duncan. His sweet little virgin of months past seemed to have lost his appetite for the loving coupling. Or perhaps, given the Scot's insatiable lustiness, maybe he wasn't satisfying him enough.
Seeming to read his lover's mind, Duncan said guiltily, "It doesn't have anything to do with the sex. Well, not really. But I just need a little...change."
"You're saying you want a little variety, is that it?" Methos retorted a lot more sharply than he had intended. "You're saying I'm not enough for you anymore."
"Damn it, that's not what I meant!" The Scot shook his head. "Okay, you're right! I'm bored! I want something different!"
"That will be very difficult since there's no one else on this island except you and me, wild plants and an assortment of snakes, boars and apes. If you're so desperate for a change, why don't you head out into the jungle and find a gorilla and..."
Methos didn't finish what he was going to say as a stinging slap fell on his cheek. Rubbing his aching face, he looked up to see the stricken, tear-filled expression in Duncan's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Methos. I didn't mean to," stammered the Highlander. "You just don't understand."
"Yes, I understand perfectly well." The Old Man patted his wide-brimmed straw hat to the top of his head. "You're right, we *do* need the space. Don't wait for me, MacLeod. I'll be gone a lot longer than two weeks."
"Methos, no..."
There was a sharp glint in the ancient's green gold eyes as he warned, "Let me tell you this, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. I am a very jealous type of fellow. If I find out that you've been diddling around with someone else...let's put it this way. You won't like it when I'm angry."
As Methos stormed off, Duncan yelled back, "Who the fuck am I going to diddle around with? There's no one here on this God damned island! Maybe I should go and stick my cock inside a coconut or let a bull ape fuck my ass. At least they'd make better lovers than you!"
In reply, the Old Man flipped his angry lover the bird as he disappeared into the jungle.
Duncan leaned back against the palm tree, wiping away furiously the tears that were streaming down his cheeks.
*You don't understand, Methos,* thought the Highlander in despair. *It's not about you exactly. But everything's happened too soon and too fast. I just want to be sure of how I feel for you, and I won't know for certain if I don't have someone else to show me how special you truly are.*
The Scot stood that way for several minutes, lost in his trouble musings. It took far longer for him to realize that he would be alone for two weeks, perhaps even longer if Methos made good on his threat. Damn, if Duncan didn't miss him already.
Restlessness getting the better of him, Duncan decided to go for a walk into the jungle, in the direction opposite of the route Methos had taken.
For hours, the Highlander walked aimlessly into uncharted areas of the island, taking a few minutes break to mark his way back on the trees he passed by and to eat bananas and mangoes he happened to chance upon. Carefully, he made his way through the thick vines crisscrossing his path.
Duncan just found himself standing at the foot of the waterfall. Apparently, the circuitous route he had taken led to this same location. Unconsciously, he smiled, remembering how he and Methos made love at this same spot.
As he gazed up, it was then that he noticed the small cave right behind the waterfall. Strange that he didn't see it before. But then, given the place where he and his lover chose to diddle when they first came to this spot, the cave would not be visible from there because of the shelf of rock covering it.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Duncan climbed up on the rocks, heading for the cave. Stepping on the narrow ledge, the rushing water drenched him all over. Going inside the cave, the Scot peeled off his wet T-shirt and wrapped it around his waist.
To his surprise, the entire cave was glowing with a flickering white light. Even greater was his surprise when he discovered, that as he went deeper inside, the cave walls were covered with a thin layer of ice. Duncan rubbed his arms briskly, his breath coming out as steam, as he trod barefoot across the cold floor of the cave. Stalactites hung above his head like spiky chandeliers.
As he explored the cave, the Highlander did not notice the dark shadow that followed behind him, hiding in the cracks whenever the Scot paused.
Soon, Duncan reached the end of the cavern, his eyes widening, seeing that the cave walls were filled with primitive paintings. Gingerly, he raised his hand to the scrawls, marveling at the crude images of apes, birds, wild pigs and things that looked like zebras. In the center was the drawing of a primitive man, holding his spear high in triumph.
Casting his eyes down to the cave floor, it was then that the Scot noticed the small campfire not far from him, the embers still glowing red. At once, he realized that someone was living in this cave.
Before he could hurry out of the cave, strong, hairy hands whirled Duncan around, picking him up easily like a babe and slammed him against the wall. As one hand gripped his throat tightly, choking him, the other hand was tearing off his shorts.
"NOOO!" Duncan cried as his legs were wrapped around an equally furred waist.
With one strong hand clinging to his trim waist and the other pinning his wrists above his head, Duncan screamed as he was brutally penetrated. With no gentle preparations, the pain was devastating. It felt like a long thick rod was jammed into his body, the blunt tip churning his innards. Duncan's head was bent back, mouth open as he gasped for breath. His back scraped painfully against the cave wall that, with trembling hands, he eased away from the rocks. His fingers finding purchase in the cracks, the Highlander tried, in vain, to lessen the impact of his rape. The futility of his situation caused tears to stream down his cheeks. No choice, no way of escape, the Scot allowed his violator full use of his flesh. Whimpers were elicited from his lips as his rapist bucked forcefully against him with the erratic pace of a bronco.
Hearing those loud animal grunts, Duncan somehow managed to open his eyes. He wanted to etch into his mind the face of his rapist, so that when this foul deed was done, he could seek him out and demand his revenge.
What the Highlander beheld, however, was not the face of a human being, but that of a grotesque apelike creature.
Duncan's horrified scream came at the same time that the monster cried out, pouring his seed inside the Scot.
Then, Duncan was abruptly released, his flesh tearing from the sudden withdrawal. Shaking violently, he curled up in a ball, hiding his tear-filled face from the monster that had just abused him. He could feel the creature's hot breath upon his neck.
However, his head was jerked up by his hair, causing him to wince, as he was forced to gaze into that hideous face once more. Thankfully, the monster's face was hidden by shadows that all he could see were gleaming eyes staring back at him.
"Please!" sobbed Duncan pleadingly, even though he wasn't certain that the creature could understand him. "Please don't hurt me!"
To his surprise, the monster raised a furry human-like hand to his cheek and brushed a tear away with his finger. It even placed its finger inside its mouth to taste the salty moisture. At that moment, the creature looked into his eyes. The sorrow and guilt he saw in those clear blue orbs was more than the Scot could take.
Without thinking twice, Duncan kicked out, causing pain to shoot through his lower body. His foot connected with the monster's chest, sending it sprawling a short distance away. Ignoring his aches, the Highlander got to his feet and dashed for the exit. As he neared the opening to freedom, he leaped through the air and fell several feet into the pool below. Swiftly, the Scot swam towards the bank. Just as he clambered onto dry land, he heard a chilling cry. Glancing briefly up, he saw that the creature was leaping nimbly down the rock face like a mountain goat.
Overcome with terror, Duncan broke into a run, taking a circuitous route back to the treehouse, not once looking back.
Reaching their makeshift home at last, the Scot hurried up the rope ladder, pulling it along with him. Although the door was a flimsy defense against the monster that was pursuing him, Duncan kicked it close and ran to the far corner of the hut, cowering behind their meager supplies.
The Highlander waited breathlessly, brown doe eyes wide with fear. In his terror, he did not even notice that he was bleeding copiously between his legs.
Suddenly, there was a soft thud followed by a rustling sound outside the door. The door itself opened a crack.
"STAY AWAY!" shouted Duncan, new tears falling from his eyes. "For God's sake, haven't you done enough to me? Leave me alone! PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Then, the door burst open, revealing a dark figure crouched on all fours. As Duncan looked on in terror, his heart pounding in his chest, the creature slowly and steadily stood up on two legs.
That last was too much for the Highlander to take. The world just faded to black as he slumped down on the floor.
Night had fallen when Duncan awoke. Outside, rain was pouring. Slowly sitting up, he rubbed his aching brow, wondering if it was only a nightmare. However, as he straightened up, there was a lancing pain in his lower abdomen. At the same time, blood began to stream once more down his legs.
Duncan stared in shock at the blood between his legs. *It wasn't a dream. All of it... Everything was real!*
The Scot curled up against the corner, wrapping the fur blanket around his naked form. Shaking his head in horror, he stammered to himself, "Sweet Jesus! I was...taken...by a creature! A BEAST! This can't be happening to me!"
But it did. His mind relived those horrifying moments. Before Methos, Duncan was a virgin, innocent of the many existing erotic possibilities. He had felt a bit guilty when he had eventually succumbed to curiosity and desire when he gave his chaste flesh to the ancient. However, this was different. He was raped by a beast. He was forced into it. Or was he? Duncan remembered that he did not fight back. His mind told him that he had no choice but to surrender. But a small voice inside his mind whispered something that he did not want to acknowledge -- that as the creature was taking him, despite the pain, he had experienced intense pleasure from the sordid act. Shaking his head, Duncan wondered if he would burn in hell for it.
As he pulled the blanket tightly over his bare form, the Highlander started. Looking back into his memories, he realized that he had not taken this blanket when he hid in this corner of the treehouse. Many times, he replayed it in his mind and the more Duncan was sure that he did not grab the blanket.
Then, as if confirming his fears, the Scot saw the thing lying on the floor a few feet from him. The creature *had* been here, inside the treehouse, with him. Taking a quick account of his injuries, he realized that, except for that one rape, the monster had not taken him while he lay unconscious on the floor.
Slowly, the Highlander crawled towards the thing on the floor. Picking it up, he carefully gathered the bunch of beautiful wild flowers into his arms.
Suddenly, in the distance, there was a mournful, ululating cry, followed by forceful, anguished wails. It was the creature.
Looking at the flowers in his arms, there was a gentle tug in Duncan's heart. He pondered how he knew that the monster was crying in guilt for the terrible pain it had inflicted upon him.
CONTINUED IN PART TWO...