Title: Haze
Summary: Something was happening, but he could hardly tell what it was between the buzzing in his brain and the shadows overcoming his eyes. Something painful, something strange.
Contains: Rape, Pedophilia, Yaoi
Pairing: Gozaburo X Seto
Disclaimer: I do not own yu-gi-oh or the characters, I also make no money from the writing of this fanfic.
Author's Note: I was overcome by the urge to write a dark fic disclosing the goings on at night in the Kaiba house. Probably a bit ooc, but with justifications.
Not my most inspired piece of work ever, but it's been in my head for a while and since I finished it I may as well share it, right?
"After you finish dinner," Gozaburo had said absently. "Go to bed. I'll need you awake early tomorrow for the flight." Seto had almost opened his mouth to ask what he meant by "the flight", but changed his mind just in time. There was a flight? Okay. He was supposed to be there for this flight? Okay. It didn't matter if he'd never heard of it before. It wasn't his job to ask questions, it was to obey orders.
The only thing Seto allowed to remain on his mind after the order was how he was expected to fall asleep. Sure, it was dark outside, but it was only six-thirty and he had gotten up at five, having slept for four hours…he'd gotten used to those hours. He wasn't even tired at all.
But Seto said nothing. He took a drink from his glass of water and cut the piece of meat on his plate with his knife. He'd easily picked up on sophisticated table manners in the two months he'd been in the house. He never slouched, he never slurped, he never cut anything with his fork, and he knew which spoon was which.
Seto set down his silverware to take another drink and then resumed eating, catching Gozaburo's eye momentarily. The man was staring at him again…it wasn't so unusual, but Seto hated it every time.
That was probably why the man did it…
By the time he'd finished half of his meal, he no longer worried about having trouble falling asleep—he practically was already and it was humiliating. He had to keep shifting in his seat to stay awake, and keep tightening his hold and his fork and knife because the utensils kept threatening to slip out of his loosening grip. In the end, with still quite a bit of food left on his plate, Seto had had to set the silverware down and admit defeat. He didn't even have the energy to hold them up any longer.
"May I be excused?" He asked softly, trying to make eye contact with his stepfather but having trouble keeping the man in focus. "I'm not feeling well all of a sudden." Gozaburo seemed to stare at him for an hour before making a decision.
"Fine. Set an alarm for three thirty, our flight leaves at five. I want you packed and ready by then." Seto attempted to ask how long they'd be staying, but his tongue no longer seemed capable of forming words so he merely nodded and stumbled towards the door that seemed to have moved during their meal.
Once he found it, he exited the room, closing the door behind him, and stared down the hall way that had split into two. Each time he took a step, the two parallel halls turned back into one, but then split apart again. On both sides, countless doors appeared and disappeared. Seto didn't remember mounting the stairs, but when he finally grasped onto a doorknob, his bedroom had appeared.
After entering the room and closing the door behind him, Seto moved to walk past the bed, but his right leg collapsed beneath him and he fell onto the floor, head just centimeters away from the bed's wooden baseboard. Panting, Seto stared at the wood while trying to grasp what was happening.
His mind and heart were racing, even though his other functions seemed to be slowing.
What was happening?
He had a thick film of swear coating his face and making his clothes cling to him, his vision was flickering in and out of focus, his heart was racing and his chest was tightening…was he sick?
Was there an illness that struck so suddenly? He'd been fine before…
He cast his eyes towards his alarm clock, but when he tried to stand—even as he used the bed for support—his legs collapsed. Seto returned to the floor with a heavy grunt and began shivering.
Bright white flashes were going off in his mind.
Something similar to warning bells.
He only had the chance to register one before he fell to his side on the floor, unconscious.
( ) ( ) ( )
His world was pitch black and, although he couldn't see anything, every other sense seemed to be amplified.
He could feel the softness of the blanket beneath him, feel his stomach as it twisted in knots… Bolts of electricity were shooting from the front of his brain to the back.
Something warm was trailing up his exposed thighs.
He didn't remember getting into bed, and he didn't remember stripping…
Something was inside of him, cutting him open and burning him, and all he could do to even express the pain was roll his head to one side and fist his hands into the stiff pillow behind his head.
Was this hell? All of this torture and no way of fighting back… He fought to lift his legs to attempt to kick at whatever was causing him the pain, but he could only raise them a centimeter or two off the bed before they collapsed.
Tears welled in his eyes as the stinging turned into a sensation of being slit open by a jagged blade.
He could hear disgusting sounds, smell sweat and hints of blood, but his eyes refused to open.
Was it a dream? Was it just a horrific, lucid nightmare? If he fought harder and opened his damp eyes, would he find himself alone and undamaged?
His eyes wouldn't open any farther than the narrowest of slits, and he tried not to panic. He felt his body being forced backwards on the bed slowly, in a rhythm that matched the waves of pain and the sickening sounds.
The sounds of heavy breaths, deeper and hoarser than his own, met his ears as the object within him was forced deeper—cutting and burning even more intensely.
I can't black out, Seto screamed within his clouded mind as more tears slid past his closed eyes. I'm already asleep, I can't black out!
There was no escape from the torture, the tearing, the slicing, the burning—he was trapped.
He managed an audible cry as the pain ventured farther and ignited a pool of kerosene in his abdomen.
It was unbearable yet there was no means to fight it.
All he could do was sob and writhe...
( ) ( ) ( )
Seto pulled his eyes open and stared at the haze in front of his eyes. He could make out blurs of shapes—a rectangular smudge of brown? A dresser. A blinding swath of light? The light peering at him through a break in the curtains…those fuzzy, dark things.
Based on the position of things, he was in his own room…but how? Last he knew he was at dinner…everything after that was…
A headache.
Seto hissed and put a sweaty palm to his forehead.
A migraine attack?
Slowly, everything grew into focus and he felt more pain than just that in his head. He took his hand away from his face and examined the bare flesh of his arm.
With a gasp of despair, he momentarily forgot the pains and took in the entirely of his bare flesh—not having any ideas as to how he became as he was or where his clothing had gone.
Still warding off the ache in his head, he turned his eyes to the floor where his clothes lie and then back to the bed.
His breath caught in his throat for a moment and then came in heavy, shaky gasps as his body began to tremble beyond his ability to control it.
The blood on the sheets, the headache, the blackout…
It wasn't only his head that hurt…There was a dull throbbing on the backs of his thighs and a piercing, radiating sting that began outside of his body and made its way in.
He'd been at dinner…he'd asked to leave?
Somehow he'd gotten to his room…
Someone had stripped him and…and somehow he'd been overpowered. He'd submitted to…to what came after…
What was Gozaburo going to say? He wouldn't tolerate that kind of weakness…
He couldn't know… Gozaburo couldn't know.
( ) ( ) ( )
A/N: Not my most inspired, but I think it's acceptable enough to share. I hope you enjoy my dark creativity.