Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. (cries)
Italics are thoughts. The main couple will be RikuxSora, of course. I'll think about adding others, if anyone has any suggestions on who they should be.
xXxHomicidexXx
Feather-light footsteps pounded against newly-polished hard wood floors, hastily. Heavier ones could be heard stomping behind, chasing after its prey. A door slammed shut as the young man attempted to vanish from the intruder's intimidating sight.
Fists hammered against said door, a malicious voice demanding that the door be opened. Silence was his only response, which in turn, made the trespasser grow even more furious with the boy.
Furniture moving around could be heard from inside the room, being forcefully pushed against the only entrance into the room.
The older man smiled. Killing him might actually be fun.
Riku pushed anything that was considered movable against the door, blocking the unwanted idiot following him from entering his hiding spot. After moving the last piece of furniture, he quietly placed himself in one of the four dark corners of the room, curling himself up into a fetal position.
Without shoving his thumb in his mouth, mind you. He would never be caught dead doing that.
The persistent fist banging against the door had ceased. The killer or robber or whatever that mysterious man was had finally left the poor teenager alone.
For now.
A sharp pang in Riku's gut kept telling him that the man would return. And accomplish whatever his strange task was. Or at least try to.
But Riku wouldn't allow him the chance. He couldn't! For all he knew, the maniac wandering around, if he was even still present in the house, could've already gotten to the silver-haired boy's parents'. He had to make sure they were alright.
That the both of them were still perfectly alive and healthy.
With newfound courage the silver-haired teen crawled over to the entrance, pressing his right ear against the wooden door, listening for any sounds that might indicate that the intruder was still roaming around.
He sat there, amazingly still, until his knees began to ache from the position his body had currently put itself in. Riku could sense no movement around where he hid, which was a good sign, he guessed.
It would mean that the hooded figure had departed from his home. But it could also mean that his parents were already killed. No movements from outside could be interpreted as no one being in the house, other than Riku.
Which would only result if his parents' were kidnapped. Or just decided to randomly leave him during such a scarring experience. He didn't think they were cruel enough to do that, though. Hopefully.
It could also be taken as people still occupying his home, but not being able to move. Which would only happen if said people are already dead, or injured to the point where they can't be mobile. Or just scared shit less.
Riku wished for the latter. Badly.
He waited a couple more seconds before dubbing it safe to flee from his hiding spot and search for his parents. He stood up half-way, wincing in pain as his spine began to crack from being forced to stay in one painful position for too long.
Riku placed his pale hand on the doorknob, his other hand grabbing the closet thing next to him that could be used as a weapon. He spared a quick glance at the item, his eyes widening a fraction, before returning to their normal size.
He opened the door slightly, praying to the gods that the hinges wouldn't creak. But alas, the world was against the poor boy. Squeak-Squeak-Squeak.
Yep, the gods hated him. He was sure of it now.
He slowly crept down the hallway, his mind racing with thought after thought. He stayed close to the wall, attempting to blend in with the shadows. If he stayed hidden, he could jump the creep terrorizing his house.
If he was still there, that is. From this day forward, Riku officially hated the word,"if." He didn't care if it wasn't nowhere near normal to hate words, he hated "if." It just tortured him relentlessly with endless possibilities concerning his situation.
And he already had a migraine and this stupid word was causing it to worsen. He had other things to worry about, like the wonderful weapon he was holding in his right hand.
The weapon he was supposed to defend himself and his family with. The same weapon he was supposed to attack the intruder, and hopefully, injure him immensely with. The world really did hate him.
An umbrella. Just frickin great. Look at me I'm Riku, fear my hazardous umbrella!
He rolled his aquamarine eyes, upset at his selection. It wasn't even his choice. There weren't really much more options located inside the room, since mostly everything was still boxed up.
He couldn't even call for help since the phone lines weren't connected yet, and he doubted the trespasser would allow him to leave the house to use the neighbor's phone. If he was even still in the house.
But if he was, then Riku was pretty much screwed. Especially with this dangerous umbrella of his. It was the mightiest weapon in all of the lands.
The "if" had returned. Oh how badly Riku wanted kick the person that created the torturous word.
He rolled his eyes again, mentally slapping himself for being sarcastic at such an unsafe moment. This was no time to mock the umbrella and the word, even though they were both absolutely horrible to him.
For all Riku knew, the moron in his house could have real artillery, like a gun or a sword. Now could someone please tell him how the hell an umbrella would hold up against one of those things?! No, they didn't need to, he already knew the answer.
Terribly!
He fumed, a scowl set on his features as he made his descent down the rotten stairs that he was sure would creak. Or break. He would rather the creaking, thank you very much. Riku wasn't ready to break his neck and become crippled.
Hell, he didn't even have to go through the staircase, he just needed to roll down it. And considering his luck, he wouldn't be surprised if he did. The entire house was pitch black, making it hard for him to be aware of his surroundings.
And usually, people would turn on the lights when they were in the dark, but they weren't Riku. They weren't stuck in his situation, having some psycho rampaging around their new home while they walked around with an umbrella.
They weren't afraid to turn on the lights because no one was after them. But once again, they weren't Riku. He couldn't turn on any of the lights, or even use a flashlight because he was afraid that he would be found. And if he was found, he would have to say goodbye to everything he loved.
Hell, he would rather fall through or down the stairs then get caught by the intruder, even if he did get crippled in the process. But that was only for like, a last resort type of thing.
He didn't want to be handicapped, especially not at the young age of sixteen.
He still had to have sex!
Well handicapped people could still have sex. They just couldn't enjoy it as much as the people that weren't crippled in any way. Or maybe they di-
Wait, wait, wait. These weren't the things you were supposed to think about during a life-and-death situation. He was starting to consider that fact that maybe he was indeed mental.
He needed help. Lots and lots of help. Because he knew for certain, that this here umbrella of his would only lead to his downfall.
No, he wasn't going to stop mocking the umbrella. It was distracting him from thinking about death...and sex. Weird combo.
He descended quietly down the last few steps, grateful that he could still move every part of body. He slowly paced into the kitchen, hands flowing gently against the wall, using it as a type of guide.
Riku was growing annoyed. He was tired of being blinded by the darkness, hated not being able to see a damn thing around him. His left hand searched the walls for the switch that controlled the lights on the chandelier hanging from the living room ceiling.
He found it after a few seconds, turning around quickly as he flipped the switch with a smirk, his right hand's grip tightening on the umbrella. The luminous light from the chandelier brightened the entire room, causing Riku to cover his eyes with his free hand, until his pupils were able to dilate.
He removed his hand, glad that the burning from the lights finally withered away. The sight that lay in front of him made him yearn for the burning to return, though. All he could witness around the room was a vile red liquid.
It was everywhere.
It was painted onto the walls, the material of the sofas' sucking the liquid in as if it was water, causing it to turn a darker shade of its original color, with a slight red tint.
The expensive carpet that his mother adored was stained a slight purplish color, the smell escaping the fabric caused Riku to double-back, dropping the umbrella as he fell to his knees, both of his arms tightening around his abdomen.
He could feel the puke rise from his stomach and make its new home in the back of throat. He could feel it burn his esophagus, attempting to force its way out of the young man's mouth.
The smell from the blood clouded his nostrils, causing the vomit to strengthen tenfold. The burning in his throat increased, until he gripped onto the wall for support, finally giving in and allowing it escape.
After emptying whatever contents he held in his stomach, he steadied himself back onto his feet, finally summoning up enough courage to take a look around the room again. He wasn't stupid. He was a little on the crazy side, but he wasn't stupid.
He knew exactly what was splattered around the room. Blood. His parents' blood.
He was too late.
Riku allowed himself to take a few steps closer, examining the room further, in search of their bodies. Maybe he was wrong, maybe it wasn't their blood.
It could be red paint, couldn't it? Red paint that caused him to throw up and looked an awful lot like blood.
Right? Right.
So until he found the bodies, he wasn't going to let whatever liquid that was thrown onto his walls cloud his judgment. He turned back around, set on looking around the kitchen for any clues on his parents' whereabouts.
His eyes widened a fraction, his heart's erratic beating beginning to quicken out of surprise. He didn't see that before. Sure, he saw blood everywhere, but he never noticed it painted onto the wall in the form of words.
Goosebumps proceeded to make themselves known on his alabaster skin, his stomach performing somersaults that caused more vomit to rise into the back of his throat. His vision grew hazy as countless and random things swirled around his mind.
Usually Riku had an answer to almost every situation, but this had him dumbfounded. There, stained on the wall in blood, were three words that caused him to feel so many emotions at once that he felt like he was going to explode in a matter of seconds.
And not the good type of three words, that most couples would spout to each other non-stop.
There, written on the wall, were three words that seemed to slow time, forcing Riku to fully comprehend the meaning of them.
You're next, boy.
No, those words were the total opposite. Secretly, Riku blamed the umbrella.
So um, should I continue or delete it? Leave me a review and tell me what you think. Please:)