Freak
Light, bright and unyielding, stabbed through overused blinds with diabolical purpose. Fuck me. Kimblee felt like he'd been hit by a tank and it was still rumbling in his brain, content ram into each wall of his skull. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He opened his eyes cautiously to prevent unnecessary pain, nothing seemed out of place in the crap hotel room he'd rented the night before…so why did he hurt everywhere?
Like the afterburn of a brightly backlit image, a memory shifted into place. Him and someone with strong hands and arms trussing him up like a pig for a feast. That was unusual. He liked to be in control and causing the pain, not receiving it. Either way, whomever had had him at their mercy was gone and had been kind enough to untie him even if his room stank like an ashtray. Oh just wait 'til I get my hands on you, I'll be sure to return the favor.
He sat up quickly and swayed, amber eyes flashing as he stumbled, wincing, to the bathroom. Flicking on the yellow light, he nearly demolished the sink underneath his tattooed palms. Whore's red lipstick ("Perfect for the Red Lotus Alchemist," a husky voice drawled humorously.)was smeared across his mouth haphazardly and gold eye-shadow glittered in the poor lighting. It now occurred to him to look down and for some reason he couldn't dredge up surprise at the rope-like bruises that criss-crossed his body. "That fucking freak Havoc!" Kimblee roared. "Let's see how red looks on him!"
A/N: Did this as a one-word inspiration exercise and came up with...this. ^_^' Please review!