Title; Painful Recollection's;
Summary; "Are you sure Ryuuzaki should be the one trying to calm the boy down?." Watari smiled gently at Matsuda, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Ryuuzaki may be socially awkward, but he has dealt with situations such as these better than i have."
Authors Note; Heeeey fanfictioners. :),
I was gonna continue writing 'Light Mixed into Shadow's', -like, i still am, don't worry-, but i had everything written down, ready to upload, but my brother thought 'Oh hey, im gonna delete everything that's on this USB without telling my sister, 'cos im a dick.'
And now, because the next chapter was deleted, i have major writer's block, because i can't remember what i have written. So i was listening to music, trying to get inspiration, when i came across 'Time of Dying - Three Days Grace. -amazing song-. And this came to mind. And what you will read, is the result of that particular inspiration.
Again, there is a 9O percent chance of eventual yaoi happening as the story progresses. That's exciting. Ahahaa. If you don't particularly like yaoi, or are against it, i don't see why you have bothered going to the romance category of two males. For those of you who do like that sort of thing, i hope i don't disappoint. Well, i hope my story all together, isn't disappointing. -sigh- One shall wish.
The Disclaimor; I own nothing, not the Anime slash Manga, and not the Characters. These are owned by the original owner. The only thing i do own, however, is the plot of this story.
See you down the bottom..
On the ground I lay,
Motionless in pain,
I can see my life flashing before my eyes,
Did I fall asleep,
Is this all a dream,
Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare.
I will not die (I will not die),
I will survive.
'Time of Dying - Three Days Grace.
Chapter One;
He thought it was a dream at first when he woke, groggy and hot. His head spun, and when he tried to lift a hand to it, he found he couldn't. Panic rushed in first, and he looked down at his hands, realizing that one lay at an odd angle. Confusion settled in next. Why couldn't he feel anything?. He tried to lift it again and felt the vague, faraway pain as his wrist protested. The boy gave up and whipped his gaze around what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse of some sort. He forced down the rising panic. It wouldn't help. It never did. He'd been drugged, that much was obvious, but still, he continued to work at trying to lift his hands, to get to his feet, to do something but everything felt so heavy. Without the boys permission, his eyes began to drift closed and he shook his head and they snapped open again. He needed to focus, had to focus and he was going to force himself if need be.
The boy breathed out a calm breath -mentally patting his back as he did so-, and took in every detail of the warehouse. He was propped up against the wall, blood, sweat and grime covering every inch of his once golden skin. The warehouse itself was nothing special. Just plain, empty and dirty, and if you looked close enough, the surface of the walls were artistically splattered with blood. The boy grimaced. This still didn't explain where he was though. A warehouse, obviously, but where was it located and why couldn't he remember coming here?.
What time was it?. What day, month, year?. How long was he out?. Who kept him here?. Who was he?. Why couldn't he remember anything!.
The boy closed his eyes and violently shook his head. He could feel the bubble of hysteria rising. Biting on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, he waited for the calm. He was on his own, he told himself. And he needed to get out of here. Nodding to himself, the boy pushed against the wall with his back and pushed down on his leg. Relief flooded through him.
'The drugs wearing off.'
With effort, he managed to stand upright, still leaning heavily on the wall behind him as his head spun.
'Now to get answers.'
The boy was startled out of his thoughts when a door that he hadn't noticed before opened. He was frozen, his body tensed as he watched a tall, rough looking man walk through the door, a knife twiddling between his fingers and his mouth curved into a grin as he eyed the boy, eyes roaming from his dirty, matted chestnut brown hair, his wide cinnamon coloured eyes to his bruised, bloody skin and tattered clothes and lastly to his bloodied toes before dragging them up his form again. The boy felt a shiver run down his spine in disgust.
"What do we do with the kid?."
The boy, as tense as he was, waited for someone to answer the man back. None came.
"Yes, i've already done that." The boys eyes narrowed as the man giggled and continued to tick off from an imaginary list, still watching the boy with sharp eyes. "There's nothing more i can do to him. He's broken." The statement was followed by a cruel laugh and the boy repressed a flinch. "He's broken. And i-". The man broke off in a fit of laughter and dragged his hand across his eyes. "We, did it."
The boy frowned in fearful curiosity and his eyes drifted slowly around the warehouse again.
'We?.'
Did he miss someone amongst the shadows?. No, he was right. No one else was here, besides himself and the other man. So it was safe to assume he was talking to himself. The man stalked towards him, eyes never leaving his form and effectively trapped him against the wall, one hand resting beside the boy's head while the other -still holding the knife- played with his bangs and he licked his lips in anticipation. The boy cringed, his eyes staring wide-eyed when the man played with the bangs of his hair, the knife just missing the bridge of his nose and his unclean breath washing over his grimy, bloody boyish face.
"Maybe your not as broken as we thought." His voice was almost soothing, but it made the boy sick. He turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut. The man frowned and grasped his chin, forcefully bringing the boys face towards him, tsking in disapprovement.
"Perhaps we should break you some more." The boy frantically shook his head, and started to claw at the hand that curled in his collar. Before he knew it, he was flat on his back, his head connecting painfully with the floor below him. He fought the urge to vomit and looked at the man above him who was straddling his hips, knife twirling in one hand and the other laying on his chest, clearly ignoring the boy's struggles.
"You know, the boss told me we had to dispose of you." His face was one of dissapointment as he directed the knife across the boys neck, who inturn winced as it made a shallow cut. He continued to trace an invisible line down the boys chest, to his stomach, continuing down to his navel and grinned when the boy tensed and begun to squirm before he traced it back up the boys body and repeated a few times. "But you see, im new to the job, and i haven't quite had my fill."
Still struggling, the boy watched the man slip the knife under the waistband of his pants and he started to panic. He begun to throw punches at the mans chest but he paid no mind, deciding to slip the knife under his shirt instead. The boys hand connected with something hard and it glinted in the light when the man shifted.
With a quick burst of adrenalin, the boy managed to twist the mans arm so the knife sunk into the skin of his own leg -nicking himself as he did so- and reached into the mans shirt to pull out the gun that was strapped there before he was roughly thrown across the floor. Dizzy from his head hitting the opposite wall, the boy managed to stand -although it took a tremendous amount of effort-, and he stumbled to the door that led outside, gun in hand.
He heard the man yelling as he shut the door behind him in haste before venturing out into the rain. All lights were extinguished aside from the lone street light and the flickering lightning. The boy sagged next to a wall, panting heavily and cringing in fear when another flash of lightning lit up the sky.
The faint scrape of leather on concrete alerted him. He started to spin, gun poised to defend himself, but something slammed into the back of his head and his vision darkened as he was sent sprawling along the ground, the gun flying out of his hand and skidding across the ground. He regained vision almost instantly and he scrambled to his feet, swaying slightly. He saw doubles of the man infront of him and dodged to the side when a hand reached out towards him, only to step in the way of the actual hand. He felt it wrap tightly around his neck and the boy grunted in pain when his back cracked into the brick wall behind him. Still seeing doubles, he glared confidently into -or what he thought was- the cruel eyes of the scruffy looking man.
"You've never shown much resistance before." The man looked taken aback at the fear, the anger and the hate, in the boys eyes. He grasped the boys chin and shook it a little. "What makes today so fucking special?."
The boy opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried to clear his throat, then spat his bloody saliva onto the mans face before croaking out. "M'be. I've, had. 'nough."
The man snarled and sprawled his hand over the boys face before he slammed his head into the wall. Once. Twice. A third time. He grinned darkly when the boy sagged against his wrist and he observed the splatter on the wall. So much blood. Eyes widening in glee he dropped the boy and placed his hand on the smear and giggled. Feeling movement against his leg, he looked down and his eyes widened his astonishment. 'How is this kid awake?.' His silent question was unanswered when the boy kicked up, and the man doubled over in pain, clutching his privates. With the sudden adrenalin rushing through his veins, the boy scrambled up, picked up the gun and ran down the street, not caring about his injuries. He didn't know where he was running too, but as long as he got away from that man, it didn't matter.
-;-
It felt like hours since he started running -and maybe it was-, and the pain from his injuries increased ten-fold. Taking shelter amongst the porch of a rather large building, the boy's knees buckled from underneath him and he started coughing. He looked at his hand in disgust when more blood splattered across it. He winced when his head throbbed painfully and he tangled his hands in his wet hair, wishing for the pain to stop. The weight of the gun made itself known and he brought it down and stared, unconsiously tracing the build of it.
'What did that man want?. Why me?.' His eyes started to burn and he clenched his eyes shut and bit his lip as it trembled. 'Who am i?.'
The image of his face above him, mouth curled in malicious glee as the knife traveled slowly down his chest flashed behind his closed eyelids and he dropped the gun, hands once again tangling into his wet locks. The tears fell and he choked on a sob, his hands pulling tighter on his hair. 'Why?.'
His head gave another painful throb and his breathing became harsher. The sound of a creaking door and a shocked gasp, made him lift his blurry gaze. The light was blinding and he squinted. A tall man was standing in the doorway, hand still resting on the door knob as he looked at the boy infront of him, his mouth agape. The boy's harsh breathing quickened and his hand was reaching for the gun again as he felt unconciousness pushing down on him and he closed his eyes and let himself fall forward into the welcoming embrace of darkness.
"Oh my God, someone help!."
Author's Note; And, there you have it.
Im in the middle of trial exams at the moment, so i don't know when the next chapter will be out, but once those exams are finished, i will dedicate my attention solely on getting another up, perhaps a few more chapters. And hopefully more for 'Light Mixed into Shadow's.
Hurry up exams!. Im keen!. ahaa, anywho..
Like it?. Hate it?. A review for your thoughts?.
Till next time..
- Lady Windeye.