A/N: I wrote this for a group of stories my sister was writing. It's rated
such for the evilness of a certain man who ruined another certain
bishonen's life. I hope you enjoy it. Please R&R.
____________________________________________________________________________ ___________________
AS THE RAIN FALLS
Cast out into the darkness, he stands alone, uncared for, unwanted. Hardly a soul notices him as they past on the crowded streets, yet he sees them, every single one of them. Years ago, when he was younger, more naïve, he'd call out to and plead with them, making his pitiful existence known. However, it never reaped the results he hoped for.no one ever smiled at him lovingly or offered him food or took him home with them. Until one fateful day.
*********************
Sitting on top of one of the dumpsters lining the alley, the one closest to the street, he glanced up every now and then at the people walking by, imagining what kind of life he would have if he were with one of them. He noticed a little girl holding hands with her mother as they window-shopped for new school clothes. He sighed, wondering what it was like to go to school, to wear new clothes, to even smell the clean scent of laundry detergent. Then, suddenly, a large, dark shadow blocked the entrance to the alley. Nervous, but not afraid, he watched as the shadow drew closer to him.
Quickly, he stood, whipping out a piece of broken fence board, and aiming it at the shadowy figure as if it were a mighty sword. "That's close enough. What do you want?"
The shadow emitted a soft, raspy chuckle and said kindly, "Do not be frightened of me. I have no wish to harm you."
"I'm not frightened," he retorted. "Who are you? Show yourself!"
"Quite demanding for a young lad, aren't we?" The shadowy figure said quietly to itself. "I'm no one that you know now, but I'd like to be someone in your future." The shadows slowly gave way to a man with neatly styled purple hair and gentle silver eyes. The man gave off a presence of overwhelmed compassion; however, the boy could sense something else lying behind that powerful aura, though he wasn't quite sure what it was exactly.
Wary and untrusting, the boy readied his stick, prepared to defend himself. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
The man smiled benevolently. "It means that I wish for you no longer to stay here. These are terrible conditions for a fine, young boy, such as yourself, to grow up in. I am merely saying that I wish to provide you hospitality. What do you say? I live in a large home with fireplaces, servants, and the finest foods in all of the land. But you need not take my word for it. If you'd like, I could take you there for you to see it and taste it yourself."
It took everything within him not to jump into the man's arms. Though he longed dearly for such thing, he wasn't completely sure he could trust the man. It felt more than a little strange, considering the fact that for years no one paid him any attention or mind, and now suddenly, somebody wants him to be part of the family, a dream that seemed too good to come true.
Suspicious, he asked, "Are you lying to me? What are you? Somebody from an orphanage who found an empty bed or something?"
"No, no, what on earth would give you such a preposterous idea? I am telling the truth. Everything that I have said, I mean with utmost sincerity." The man stepped forward and bowed humbly.
Biting his lip, the boy dropped his stick slightly, contemplating whether or not he should go with the man. He seemed nice enough, and he was the only person to ever stop and he did offer comfort. What's the worst that could happen? He could end up back on the streets again...nothing that had never happened before.
Taking in a deep breath and hoping it was the right decision, he jumped off the dumpster and landed at the man's feet. He tossed his stick aside and said, "All right. Let's get going then."
The man's smile broadened and he promptly escorted him to a carriage waiting down the street a ways. The cabbie opened the door for them and the boy tentatively got in, followed by the man. Amazed at how comfortable and cushiony the seats were, the boy ran his fingers over the velvet covers, relishing in the feel. Then he stopped, afraid that he would get the beautiful fabric dirty and that the man would get angry and change his mind.
The man, though, reassured him, "No need to worry. Go on. There's nothing wrong with it. Enjoy yourself. It doesn't matter anyway if it gets soiled or not. I'll just get one of my servants to clean it for me. So, go ahead and enjoy yourself."
The boy happily went back to stroking the fabric, all the while feeling the man's eyes upon him. Though the weight of the stare felt genuinely sympathetic, he was riddled with goose flesh as something else lurked from behind it.
Soon, the carriage came to a halt in front of a mansion made of the finest stone, covered with lush ivy and surrounded by beautiful gardens filled with flowers of all different sizes, shapes, and colors. In awe, he gazed outside the carriage window for nearly five minutes before realizing that he wasn't dreaming. After leaving the carriage, the man took him to the large mahogany doors, which he opened with a skeleton key.
He gasped in wonder at everything he took in. The interior of the house was beautifully immaculate; the floors were made of marble and were polished to perfection so that they gleamed like the sun itself. Gorgeous tapestries of gold, emerald and burgundy hung down from ceilings that seemed to reach the heavens themselves. The house was filled with everything he had ever imagined or dreamed of and more! Servants in the traditional black and white greeted them at the door with kind smiles, and the man bent down and whispered, "Welcome to your new home. You can stay for as long as you like."
He was overwhelmed with joy. Never had he ever been so happy. And for the first time in his life, he smiled and said, "Thank you, oh, thank you so much," to the man before politely shaking hands with each of the staff members.
The man's smile turned from sincere to conniving in an instance. Folding his hands together, he quietly laughed to himself and said, "No, thank you."
~
After taking a real bath and receiving new, clean clothes, the boy sat in front of the fireplace, wrapped up snuggly in a blanket, savoring every moment of the warmth, even enjoying the charred scent of the smoke that escaped a trip up the chimney. By his side was a cup of hot chocolate. Nothing he had ever drank tasted as good, warm, or lovely, as hot chocolate. He loved the way the tepid liquid slid down his throat and nestled contently in his stomach, warming him from head to toe. For years he longed to live in such a place, in such comfort and with such wonderful food, now that it had finally happened, he felt spoiled and undeserving, but he knew out of anyone, he was one of the few who deserved such comforts, and he was glad for that fact.
Down the stairs came the man, dressed in a black robe, similar to one he wore himself, and satin pants. He sat down and relaxed in a comfortable recliner by the crackling fire, a glass of red wine in hand.
The boy smiled, the reaction came somewhat naturally to him now, and thanked the man again. "You don't know how much this means to me. I very grateful for you taking me in, and for all that you've done for me even though it hasn't even been a whole day! I never knew someone as kind as you existed in the world. I'm glad, though, that you found me. Thank you, again."
The man modestly brushed away the praise. "No need for that now. You've thanked me far too much already. I was just being a Good Samaritan, that's all." Something in the man's voice subtly hinted that he felt unworthy of the glorification.
"No, you are far more than that." The boy approached the chair and knelt next to him. "Much more than that. I really, really can't thank you enough." Gazing at the fire, he whispered, "I wish there was something I could do to pay you back."
At that instance, thunder cracked loud and long outside, spooking the boy somewhat. Out the window at the end of the room, black clouds were rolling on the horizon, blocking out the setting sun. Turning back to the man, he suddenly felt ill at ease. The firelight danced in his eyes, making them appear sinister red rather than their usual kind gray. Something else had changed about the man as well.something internal, and the boy felt as if he should run away and hide somewhere. He talked himself out of it, though. The man had done so much for him, and was kind and caring. A Good Samaritan. What on earth would cause him to believe he was something else?
The storm outside worsened and he was glad he wasn't out there, huddling inside the smelly dumpster for protection and shelter. The man rose from the recliner and suggested, "Since there's nothing to be done about the storm, I'm going to retire for the evening."
A fearsome wind howled just beyond the glass, whipping around the hedges and flowers wickedly, darkening them and making them appear quite evil, when in fact, only a few minutes ago, they appeared as lovely as ever. Rubbing the goose flesh from his shoulders, the boy agreed. "That sounds like a good idea."
Together, they climbed the carpeted stairs where the man led him to the east wing, the section that would belong to the boy. Even in the dark, the boy saw many large windows, most of them not covered by drapes. The wind and rain pounded against the glass, as if trying to break in. And as he went over to close all the curtains shut, he felt the temperature in the room drop drastically and the air in the room became heavy with maliciousness. Whirling around, he saw the man locking the door and placing the key on top of a tall, cherry oak armoire, one so high the boy would never be able to reach the top of it.
Gripping one of the curtains, the boy asked, "What's going on? What's happening?"
The man slowly approached him with long, confident strides. "You wanted to repay me for all that I've done for you and so you shall." A flash of lightning illuminated the man's face, revealing his true identity. The man he had met in the alley was nothing but a disguise this horrible demon of a man was who he really was. A devilish glint in the man's eye told the boy that he needed to get away and fast. Quickly, he scrambled to the other side of the room, the man tried to grab his legs, but he was too slow. Several times, he narrowly escaped until one fatal moment, trapped between a desk and a nightstand...there was no escape. The man stepped towards him, a smile contorting his face into something not human.
"Stop. I'll give you back the clothes. I'll pay you back somehow for the food and bath. Just, please, don't come any closer."
But the man came closer and closer and closer.
"Why are you doing this?" The boy screamed over the deafening storm, when the man was less than a foot away. "Why? Please, tell me. What did I do?"
The man knelt in front of him and said, "You were beautiful." With that, he closed in like a beast to its prey.
The ominous storm looming outside masked the boy's heart-wrenching screams.
~
The next day, the boy woke up, back in the alley, in the same ratty rags he had always lived in. He wondered if it had all been some terrible nightmare, but then he saw the carriage down the street a little ways, and the man standing there with a smile. As the carriage drove past, rain began to drizzle from the sky and at that instant, the boy broke inside. A single tear slid down his face as the rain began to fall.
*********************
Now older, he leans against the brick walls surrounding the alley and disappears into the shadows. His cold, unforgiving eyes past right through the passer-bys now, as if they weren't even there. Since that day, all those years ago, he has never smiled, never trusted another soul, and never displayed a single emotion besides indifference. Cast into the darkness, he stands alone, uncared for, unwanted.
When the thunderclouds roll in from the west, booming like the drums of Thor, he is reminded of that day, the day that stole his childhood innocence and naivety. He is reminded of everything that he lost so quickly, every dream that he had hoped for having been shattered. The child buried inside him weeps and cries aloud, hoping for salvage, for a new hope, for something to live for. However, the saddened youth he is now never sheds a single tear..
.. As the rain falls.
Owari~
____________________________________________________________________________ ___________________
AS THE RAIN FALLS
Cast out into the darkness, he stands alone, uncared for, unwanted. Hardly a soul notices him as they past on the crowded streets, yet he sees them, every single one of them. Years ago, when he was younger, more naïve, he'd call out to and plead with them, making his pitiful existence known. However, it never reaped the results he hoped for.no one ever smiled at him lovingly or offered him food or took him home with them. Until one fateful day.
*********************
Sitting on top of one of the dumpsters lining the alley, the one closest to the street, he glanced up every now and then at the people walking by, imagining what kind of life he would have if he were with one of them. He noticed a little girl holding hands with her mother as they window-shopped for new school clothes. He sighed, wondering what it was like to go to school, to wear new clothes, to even smell the clean scent of laundry detergent. Then, suddenly, a large, dark shadow blocked the entrance to the alley. Nervous, but not afraid, he watched as the shadow drew closer to him.
Quickly, he stood, whipping out a piece of broken fence board, and aiming it at the shadowy figure as if it were a mighty sword. "That's close enough. What do you want?"
The shadow emitted a soft, raspy chuckle and said kindly, "Do not be frightened of me. I have no wish to harm you."
"I'm not frightened," he retorted. "Who are you? Show yourself!"
"Quite demanding for a young lad, aren't we?" The shadowy figure said quietly to itself. "I'm no one that you know now, but I'd like to be someone in your future." The shadows slowly gave way to a man with neatly styled purple hair and gentle silver eyes. The man gave off a presence of overwhelmed compassion; however, the boy could sense something else lying behind that powerful aura, though he wasn't quite sure what it was exactly.
Wary and untrusting, the boy readied his stick, prepared to defend himself. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
The man smiled benevolently. "It means that I wish for you no longer to stay here. These are terrible conditions for a fine, young boy, such as yourself, to grow up in. I am merely saying that I wish to provide you hospitality. What do you say? I live in a large home with fireplaces, servants, and the finest foods in all of the land. But you need not take my word for it. If you'd like, I could take you there for you to see it and taste it yourself."
It took everything within him not to jump into the man's arms. Though he longed dearly for such thing, he wasn't completely sure he could trust the man. It felt more than a little strange, considering the fact that for years no one paid him any attention or mind, and now suddenly, somebody wants him to be part of the family, a dream that seemed too good to come true.
Suspicious, he asked, "Are you lying to me? What are you? Somebody from an orphanage who found an empty bed or something?"
"No, no, what on earth would give you such a preposterous idea? I am telling the truth. Everything that I have said, I mean with utmost sincerity." The man stepped forward and bowed humbly.
Biting his lip, the boy dropped his stick slightly, contemplating whether or not he should go with the man. He seemed nice enough, and he was the only person to ever stop and he did offer comfort. What's the worst that could happen? He could end up back on the streets again...nothing that had never happened before.
Taking in a deep breath and hoping it was the right decision, he jumped off the dumpster and landed at the man's feet. He tossed his stick aside and said, "All right. Let's get going then."
The man's smile broadened and he promptly escorted him to a carriage waiting down the street a ways. The cabbie opened the door for them and the boy tentatively got in, followed by the man. Amazed at how comfortable and cushiony the seats were, the boy ran his fingers over the velvet covers, relishing in the feel. Then he stopped, afraid that he would get the beautiful fabric dirty and that the man would get angry and change his mind.
The man, though, reassured him, "No need to worry. Go on. There's nothing wrong with it. Enjoy yourself. It doesn't matter anyway if it gets soiled or not. I'll just get one of my servants to clean it for me. So, go ahead and enjoy yourself."
The boy happily went back to stroking the fabric, all the while feeling the man's eyes upon him. Though the weight of the stare felt genuinely sympathetic, he was riddled with goose flesh as something else lurked from behind it.
Soon, the carriage came to a halt in front of a mansion made of the finest stone, covered with lush ivy and surrounded by beautiful gardens filled with flowers of all different sizes, shapes, and colors. In awe, he gazed outside the carriage window for nearly five minutes before realizing that he wasn't dreaming. After leaving the carriage, the man took him to the large mahogany doors, which he opened with a skeleton key.
He gasped in wonder at everything he took in. The interior of the house was beautifully immaculate; the floors were made of marble and were polished to perfection so that they gleamed like the sun itself. Gorgeous tapestries of gold, emerald and burgundy hung down from ceilings that seemed to reach the heavens themselves. The house was filled with everything he had ever imagined or dreamed of and more! Servants in the traditional black and white greeted them at the door with kind smiles, and the man bent down and whispered, "Welcome to your new home. You can stay for as long as you like."
He was overwhelmed with joy. Never had he ever been so happy. And for the first time in his life, he smiled and said, "Thank you, oh, thank you so much," to the man before politely shaking hands with each of the staff members.
The man's smile turned from sincere to conniving in an instance. Folding his hands together, he quietly laughed to himself and said, "No, thank you."
~
After taking a real bath and receiving new, clean clothes, the boy sat in front of the fireplace, wrapped up snuggly in a blanket, savoring every moment of the warmth, even enjoying the charred scent of the smoke that escaped a trip up the chimney. By his side was a cup of hot chocolate. Nothing he had ever drank tasted as good, warm, or lovely, as hot chocolate. He loved the way the tepid liquid slid down his throat and nestled contently in his stomach, warming him from head to toe. For years he longed to live in such a place, in such comfort and with such wonderful food, now that it had finally happened, he felt spoiled and undeserving, but he knew out of anyone, he was one of the few who deserved such comforts, and he was glad for that fact.
Down the stairs came the man, dressed in a black robe, similar to one he wore himself, and satin pants. He sat down and relaxed in a comfortable recliner by the crackling fire, a glass of red wine in hand.
The boy smiled, the reaction came somewhat naturally to him now, and thanked the man again. "You don't know how much this means to me. I very grateful for you taking me in, and for all that you've done for me even though it hasn't even been a whole day! I never knew someone as kind as you existed in the world. I'm glad, though, that you found me. Thank you, again."
The man modestly brushed away the praise. "No need for that now. You've thanked me far too much already. I was just being a Good Samaritan, that's all." Something in the man's voice subtly hinted that he felt unworthy of the glorification.
"No, you are far more than that." The boy approached the chair and knelt next to him. "Much more than that. I really, really can't thank you enough." Gazing at the fire, he whispered, "I wish there was something I could do to pay you back."
At that instance, thunder cracked loud and long outside, spooking the boy somewhat. Out the window at the end of the room, black clouds were rolling on the horizon, blocking out the setting sun. Turning back to the man, he suddenly felt ill at ease. The firelight danced in his eyes, making them appear sinister red rather than their usual kind gray. Something else had changed about the man as well.something internal, and the boy felt as if he should run away and hide somewhere. He talked himself out of it, though. The man had done so much for him, and was kind and caring. A Good Samaritan. What on earth would cause him to believe he was something else?
The storm outside worsened and he was glad he wasn't out there, huddling inside the smelly dumpster for protection and shelter. The man rose from the recliner and suggested, "Since there's nothing to be done about the storm, I'm going to retire for the evening."
A fearsome wind howled just beyond the glass, whipping around the hedges and flowers wickedly, darkening them and making them appear quite evil, when in fact, only a few minutes ago, they appeared as lovely as ever. Rubbing the goose flesh from his shoulders, the boy agreed. "That sounds like a good idea."
Together, they climbed the carpeted stairs where the man led him to the east wing, the section that would belong to the boy. Even in the dark, the boy saw many large windows, most of them not covered by drapes. The wind and rain pounded against the glass, as if trying to break in. And as he went over to close all the curtains shut, he felt the temperature in the room drop drastically and the air in the room became heavy with maliciousness. Whirling around, he saw the man locking the door and placing the key on top of a tall, cherry oak armoire, one so high the boy would never be able to reach the top of it.
Gripping one of the curtains, the boy asked, "What's going on? What's happening?"
The man slowly approached him with long, confident strides. "You wanted to repay me for all that I've done for you and so you shall." A flash of lightning illuminated the man's face, revealing his true identity. The man he had met in the alley was nothing but a disguise this horrible demon of a man was who he really was. A devilish glint in the man's eye told the boy that he needed to get away and fast. Quickly, he scrambled to the other side of the room, the man tried to grab his legs, but he was too slow. Several times, he narrowly escaped until one fatal moment, trapped between a desk and a nightstand...there was no escape. The man stepped towards him, a smile contorting his face into something not human.
"Stop. I'll give you back the clothes. I'll pay you back somehow for the food and bath. Just, please, don't come any closer."
But the man came closer and closer and closer.
"Why are you doing this?" The boy screamed over the deafening storm, when the man was less than a foot away. "Why? Please, tell me. What did I do?"
The man knelt in front of him and said, "You were beautiful." With that, he closed in like a beast to its prey.
The ominous storm looming outside masked the boy's heart-wrenching screams.
~
The next day, the boy woke up, back in the alley, in the same ratty rags he had always lived in. He wondered if it had all been some terrible nightmare, but then he saw the carriage down the street a little ways, and the man standing there with a smile. As the carriage drove past, rain began to drizzle from the sky and at that instant, the boy broke inside. A single tear slid down his face as the rain began to fall.
*********************
Now older, he leans against the brick walls surrounding the alley and disappears into the shadows. His cold, unforgiving eyes past right through the passer-bys now, as if they weren't even there. Since that day, all those years ago, he has never smiled, never trusted another soul, and never displayed a single emotion besides indifference. Cast into the darkness, he stands alone, uncared for, unwanted.
When the thunderclouds roll in from the west, booming like the drums of Thor, he is reminded of that day, the day that stole his childhood innocence and naivety. He is reminded of everything that he lost so quickly, every dream that he had hoped for having been shattered. The child buried inside him weeps and cries aloud, hoping for salvage, for a new hope, for something to live for. However, the saddened youth he is now never sheds a single tear..
.. As the rain falls.
Owari~