Author's Notes: So I've been into this anime/manga called Vampire Knight (I believe it's on You Tube - if you haven't seen it, FIND EET!) and the ending song inspired this. I almost never do (read; finish) pointless little ficlets but this just wouldn't leave me alone, sooo - yeah :D
Description: Axel has always wanted his own personal doll.
Pairing: Axel/Roxas
Warnings: Kidnapping, implied gore, shattered mind?
Other: Spiders are delicious :D (marshmallows with pretzels shoved into their sides dipped in chocolate) A great Halloween snack!
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Walking along a darkened path a tall figure made his way back home, head ducked low and a hand over his hat to keep it from flying off. The other was clasped firmly at the front of his jacket, holding the dark tan trench coat closed as the wind whipped furiously. He wouldn't have gone out if he didn't have to on a night as such but the opportunity presented its self just then. Who knows how long he would had to of waited, then?
Just a bit further. Turning a corner the long-legged steps picked up in pace as the houses came into view, all dark save for the one at the end with a single candle in the window. Moments later he was pushing his key into the lock, wind pushing at his back, needing to use a shoulder to shove the heavy wooden door back into its frame. Though harsh the wind hadn't put out the candle left burning in a glass jar, its light doing little for heat or light outside of its circle.
Home at last. Shedding the jacket to set on one of the pegs by the door the hat came soon after, revealing a shocking mass of red spikes. Long arms were covered with a fitted sweater of thick wool, cotton slacks the same shade of his jacket on his legs.
Walking over to the steadily burning candle Axel picked up the jar, starting to move deeper into the house before pausing to turn back to his jacket. What he had gone out for was in the pocket; no point in leaving it behind now.
The rooms were sparsely furnished, only a wooden table and chair with a stone-cold fireplace in the front. Deeper into the house one came upon a kitchen, stove splashed with some leftover stew that had escaped its pot along with a battered-looking fridge. Axel strode through both rooms without a glance, not turning to go into the room that served as his bedroom. Instead he stopped before a locked wooden door, quickly undoing the latch and stepping onto the top stair before closing it firmly behind him.
"Roxas?" Walking down the dozen or so steps leading to the bottom Axel set down the glass jar on the wooden table at the bottom of the steps. He didn't need the candle down here; it was warm, a fire burning and tossing more light than the bit of wax and wicker could ever hope to accomplish.
There was more to see down in the basement than through any other part of the house; a large, comfortable looking sofa sat off to the side, a small table before it. There were candle stands scattered throughout the room though none were lit, grated and locked fireplace casting enough light for the whole room. There was a washroom, complete with claw-foot tub, water basin and toilet.
The walls were also covered, almost fully, in photos.
Each picture was taken in different places at different times but there was always the same subject, seemingly unaware of his watcher. In the park; downtown; laughing with his friends; practicing at the dance studio; curled up in bed. All held Roxas as the main subject, black and white photos unable to capture the glittering blonde of his hair and charming blue eyes.
Making his way to the carpeted section of the basement Axel's gaze softened, a slight smile pulling at his lips. "Hey Roxas."
The boy sat on the ground before the bed he had been given, eyes open and unfocused. He was wearing the standard black leotard that dancers were known for, a wispy black skirt on his waist and ending just below mid thigh. The shirt of his outfit was cut into a low V, going down almost to his stomach, leaving much of his collar bone and chest exposed.
"I got that thing you wanted," Axel went on, moving aside the watching chair to step onto the carpet and crouch before the boy. The blonde doesn't react as Axel crouches before him, opening his fist. "It wasn't easy, I'll tell you. Your brother didn't want to give it up."
There was a long moment of silence before something happened; a flicker in blue orbs, head slowly turning to focus on what was being offered to him. Held in callused fingers was a silver crown necklace, smudges of blood on the usually glinting surface.
"I remember when you gave it to him," Axel said, seeming pleased that the other was paying attention. "It was for your guy's birthday. Now you have something to remind you of him - no need to worry."
Roxas didn't answer.
"Here, let me put it on you."
Reaching out Axel looped the soiled metal over Roxas's neck with a clinking of metal against metal, rocking back on his heels to admire it. The silver and red made the pale skin (he wasn't so pale when Axel first brought him but that's okay, Roxas is perfect no matter what) seem to glow, blue eyes like hidden gems in a vast ocean. After a long once-over Axel nodded. "Perfect. I knew it would suit you better." Rising to his feet Axel went to the blonde's dresser, attention on a dust-covered record player to set into play. It wasn't as if the song ever change. "Now, it's time."
As if on cue, Roxas seemed to come to life.
Shoulders bending and legs twisting the blond rose to his feet, sound of clinking metal like a horrid musical. The chain around his neck ground against the cuff holding him prisoner, one of heavy metal and made of dull, dull gray and the other bright save for the tainting of blood.
Moving again Axel made his way to the chair he had moved previously, setting it back into place before plopping down. Even now he couldn't believe that he had actually captured and tamed the wild fire that was his obsession. It had started out innocently enough; after viewing a ballet that the blonde had danced in (he was beautiful, all smooth lines and delicate grace and though he wasn't nearly tall enough for a starring role his talent was obvious) Axel had a gift of flowers sent to his dresser and figured that to be that.
Then he found himself going to see that same ballet again, then again, then going to any and all the ballets that the blonde preformed in. More gifts were sent, from flowers and candy to furs and silks. Axel had to find out more about him - his name, his age, who his parents were, where he lived. It grew slowly over months until by the year's end Roxas was all the red head could think about. Roxas didn't respond to his advances, though; flowers were thrown out as were the sweets, furs and silks being taken home for his brother. Axel grew desperate.
And so he took him.
Green orbs watched, transfixed as Roxas rose up on point, heels crossed and one arm over his head as the other curved around him in a delicate circle. One leg rose, to his waist without his upper body moving, before he bent in half, leg rising above blonde spikes and the tip of one. Slow, haunting music played quietly in the basement and Roxas moved to its beat, body bending beautifully if mechanically.
Transfixed Axel took in every bend and move; every arch and sway; every twirl and bow. Eventually the song begun to wind down and Roxas stopped, sliding one leg down and raising his arms in a bow as Axel clapped.
"Bravo! Beautiful as usual, Roxas." Turning from the blonde the red head didn't notice as Roxas sagged, legs folding underneath him like a marionette with his strings cut. Turning off the record player Axel sighed. "I could watch you dance all day. I'll go get dinner started." Pausing he turned to look over at the blonde who seemed to be staring off into space, back resting against the mattress of his bed.
Pausing for a moment Axel moved over to where the blonde sat, bending double. A hand moving to cup a pale cheek he pressed their lips together, one set warm and moving and the other cool and unresponsive. After a while Axel drew back, that light smile pulling at his lips. "I love you, Roxas."
Rising to his feet Axel turned to leave, humming to himself as he picked up the still-burning candle in its jar. Solid footsteps pounding the stairs the door to the basement was opened, a cool gust of wind seeping in before it was firmly shut and locked behind him.
Down in the carpeted corner of the basement Roxas sat, unmoving, as he had for weeks. Blue orbs stared blankly at who-knew-what, breathing so slow and even that he looked to not be at all.
The silent, salty tears running along pale cheeks went unnoticed, boy broken beyond repair.