Shinzui's Rolling Rant: Hah! A totally different ficlet from MOI! It's a Bryan/Tala ficcie! Don't like? Then what are you doing here? oO; Anyway, this is going to be confusing… It confused me, so why not you? –shrugs- Ah well, this was definitely fun to write because it was challenging and… complex.
The emotions were the hardest things to write, I can tell you that. Especially Bryan's! Oh my gosh… he drove me CRAZY! And that's really bad because he's my Soulbond! XD In any case, I tried my very best to keep them in IC. –nodnod- I've changed since I last posted a fic here. ^__^ I'm more into using the characters' true personalities to my advantage! It's fun - really.
And… about my other stowwies – if you're reading them – they're currently at the Revision Center. So, don't worry. I'm almost done with them… Almost. @_@
Also, I'm using Tala's Japanese Name – which is Yuri. It's a classic Russian name, so don't you dare say that it means female/female – because it's not. Besides, you're gonna face a pissed off Ishshi too. XD Mehya… I was supposed to use Bryan's Japanese Name too, which is Boris - but… it's the same with Boris'. oO; 'nuff said.
And, please do forgive me if I make grammatical errors – my English is not so good. Heh. Here's the ficcie! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: The characters, items, etc. of Beyblade are not mine. These things were used without permission, but…I'm just borrowing them for a little while for my own twisted and demented purposes. So don't you dare sue me, just sue my evil twin. oO' I made this fic for entertainment only, and not for making money.
Shattered [Download 1.0]
By Shinzui
Fierce lavender eyes pierced right into the light blue sky, burning with the intense flames of hatred and Hell. He was desecrating the whole world with his foul presence, but he didn't bloody care. As a matter of fact, he was laughing through it all because he had been forsaken and damned ever since the day his parents left him in this wretched abbey… the day that changed his life forever… the day he was introduced to Satan himself. Those bastards…
How he wanted to take his tormentors and rip them apart, spilling their filthy blood on the floor. He wanted to repay them with pain and misery. He would not stop killing them until the ground was painted dangerously with their very own crimson essence. Only then would he be satisfied. Only then would he know that he had his revenge! That he, the hopeless, had the last laugh!
A sadistic laugh resonated through the enclosed walls of his room - the place he oh-so-lovingly called home. He had this demented desperation in his laugh, the kind that made you think of nothing but fear – tremendous fear. Anyone within hearing range would immediately cower and shiver pitifully because they knew that they were really close to a twisted human being.
Human…
"Do I even have the right to call myself human?" Another sick laugh. "Probably not."
He was no human. He was a monster hell-bent on destruction. Demons existed in his heart, mind and soul, telling him to do this and do that. Yes, it had been them who ordered him to destroy Kon Rei, but he failed miserably. His chaotic emotions got the better of him, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. Since then, he loathed his feeble strength, despised his very soul – for it was not capable of accomplishing simple tasks such as winning, fighting, killing… But that was not all.
He had been too damn weak to finish the job properly. And he bloody knew why. He hesitated. He allowed himself to be consumed by pity – pity for the battered White Tiger in front of him. Why it had happened – he didn't have a single clue. But the event left him wondering…
What held me back?
How could I lose?
I was fully capable of defeating that boy.
I was programmed to win.
Yet I let him be the victor.
A frustrated scream broke out from his lips; its anguished tone swallowed by the walls. Why? Why? WHY?! Why did he have to be born as a pathetic weakling?! Had he done anything wrong to anger Fate and Destiny?! He needed to know why. He needed to find the answers to his questions… Now!
Punching the only window in his sanctuary, he didn't dare flinch as the innocent shards were buried deeply on his skin. He didn't dare whimper upon seeing his own pure venom trickle down to the windowpane, staining the tampered surface with his own blood. Why? Because he was already used to these types of things… seeing that's how he spent most of his training.
He let out a sigh and moved back into the comforting shadows, collapsing on his knees. He was weak… so weak… He knew that, but he wouldn't admit it to himself. He could never do that… I am confined in a child's body… I don't like this at all…!
He raised his bleeding hand, staring at it aimlessly. It was shaking, unable to maintain its control. He suddenly leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling as his injured hand reached to grasp something in the air. Nothing… nothing I can do… nothing within my reach…
At these puzzling thoughts, he quickly brought his fist down and punched the floor. "No… no… NO!" His voice got louder and louder, yet the anger it held was somewhat strained… tortured… "Argh!" He pummeled the ground one last time before he finally started to calm down. He could feel the hatred slip away… until he was left with nothing but strange feelings.
These precarious mood swings… from cynical to angry, and then to broken… They were starting to confuse him… scare him. He knew that he was one of the fickle, but this is getting ridiculous. Why were they happening? What convinced him to act like this? Was it his intense self-loathing for being such a failure? Or does it run deeper than that?
So many questions that need to be answered… So many problems that need to be solved…
These thoughts confuse me… And I do not know why…
Is this what I want?
To forever be clouded by uncertainty?
I… I don't know…
"I hate this…" He whispered, cradling his wounded arm. Pale amethyst orbs shimmered with unknown emotion… gentleness… They held a whole lot more, but the mild emotion overran the others. Was it really possible for him to be calm? That he, Bryan, the Tempest Phoenix, was gentle? Was he frightened now? No, he couldn't be. He was just tired… and he was scared. Scared because this was something he couldn't understand. This was something that went against everything that had been imprinted on his mind.
It wasn't him… wasn't him. Such an emotion didn't exist within him – didn't deserve to be part of a worthless mortal like him. But then again, it was a part of him before… until that day…
Blood.
Screams.
Burning.
Pain.
The memories were struggling to get through the wall he had put up – struggling to make him remember. He shut his eyes tight, suppressing the recollections of his past. He didn't want them to resurface right now. Not now. Not now…
'You can't stop it. Just relax…'
Lilac orbs snapped open; thin mouth gaping. It was he… his tormentor…! His voice… his voice… That deep and predatory tone…
'You'll never be strong. You'll always be weak. You'll always be mine, my pretty little Falcon…'
"Get out of my head! Leave me alone!" He demanded the vicious voice to stay away from him, but something told him that it was futile. Why? Why did it decide to bother him now? He thought he had forgotten about that incident… Didn't he? He just couldn't remember it… After all those years… After all those years of pushing it away…
'You and I are one… Our bond was created this night… You can never forget…'
"No…" He shook his head vigorously, light violet locks falling against his eyes.
A knock tore him away from his troublesome thoughts as the Silver Wolf entered his lair. He was somewhat relieved, but he quickly brushed it away, glaring icily at his team captain. "What is i-it?" He spat, keeping his voice in a low and deadly tone. He mentally kicked himself for stuttering.
Silence.
"What do you want?"
Silence.
"Answer me!!"
He intensified his glare even more as Yuri just stood there, seemingly unfazed by his unrestrained outburst. He watched as the other boy closed his eyes and headed for the door, but he stopped in mid-way.
"Boris wants to see you. Now." That was all he heard as the Wolf left.
Bryan eyed the crimson-haired boy, and then he finally stood up. He suddenly looked at his hand, shaking his head. He needed to get this cleaned up. He began pulling out the shards, and then he slowly wrapped his arm in bandages. He didn't even flinch nor whimpered. Anesthetic… Bah, maybe later.
When he was done, he stepped out of his sanctuary. He didn't care that he left a mess in there; he would clean it up later. Besides, he had more important things to worry about – training.
He treaded confidently along the hallways, eyes staring straight ahead. The sound of his footsteps was heard aimlessly – not too soft, not too loud. He turned around a corner and came face to face with a big wooden door. Reaching out with one hand, he opened it and went inside. He was greeted by blank stares, and he met them with his own.
Emotionless gaze wandered around the room, scanning each and every person. He moved over to stand in front of Boris.
"You wished to see me, sir?" He raised his eyes; pallid face held an unreadable expression. His voice was bland and blank with a tone of respect. He did not bow in submission, but he settled in for just staring. Foolish, but he was known for such a deed.
"We have no use for such idle chatter. You know why you were called," The man replied, staring at the boy through his visor's crimson slits.
He knew why he was called? For a moment, the Tempest Falcon was at a loss for words. He didn't know what Boris was talking about. How could he possibly know the reason? He was just…
It suddenly hit him.
"Yes. I know," He replied curtly.
The cold feeling bit the boy's flesh as he was forcefully pressed harder to the floor. He could feel his tormentor's grip – it was harsh, and it grew tighter by the minute. He struggled to escape, but a mere boy of seven years like him was helpless in this situation. However, he refused to give up – he needed to fight back!'
Trying to push himself up, he retaliated against the attacker. However, he was shoved down again, slamming his head on the floor. Hard. He gasped, and then he started to struggle again.
"Now, my little Falcon. Stop fidgeting…"
Rough hands ran all over his bare skin, and he felt thoroughly disgusted that his body was actually responding to this simple ministration. He bit his lip, and looked away. His eyes began to fill with tears. This couldn't be happening…
"P-please… s-stop… don't…" His pleas of mercy were useless. It only heightened the other one's desire even more.
He lay there, trembling beneath his merciless torturer. What can he do? As he thought about that, his heart pounded like crazy. With each second passing by, his heartbeats got louder and louder – until he thought that it was going to burst.
"I shall now take what is mine…"
The young boy froze entirely, pain and fear vying for dominance in his mind. He cried out, but he was cut short by a hand over his mouth. He tried to push the other one off him, but the jolts of pain flashing through his whole body prevented him from doing a good job. The burning pain conquered him to the core… Silent cries escaped him, and he knew that that was all he could.
Then suddenly, a flash of white light momentarily blinded him.
Somebody was shaking him. Somebody was calling out his name. But who was it? And why does he… feel safe?
"Bryan? Bryan!" Another shake, another call. "Snap out of it!"
Who are you?
Why won't you talk to me?
The Tempest Falcon refused to be brought back to reality. His eyes were glazed over, staring at something for no reason at all. He was leaning against a wall, blood flowing out from various cuts on his body. What… happened to him? Oh wait… he just remembered. He was beaten up. By order of Lord Voltaire, he needed to be punished for his failure.
But why did his mind flash back to that dreadful night? Was it just because…?
He heard a heavy sigh, and he was brought up to his feet. He could vaguely feel the person's slender arms around him, supporting his broken body. He was led right back to his room, and was settled on the bed. He then heard a gasp and another sigh, followed by some other weird sounds.
What are you doing?
What happened to you?
He suddenly felt soft hands touch his, and they were applying something painful on his wounds. A hiss broke free from his lips as the person continued to patch him up. In a matter of minutes, he was left alone for the rest of the night.
Shinzui's Rolling Rant: Yippie! Bryan's POV is done! The next chapter shall feature Tala's POV. So… what do you think of it? Nice? Horrible? Good? Bad? Was my portrayal of Bryan okay? I hope it is… It took me quite a long while to have him all figured out. ^__^ Anyway, I'd get my gears working so I can do the next parts. Oh yes… before I go… Shameless Plug! XD
If you find this pairing interesting, angsty or intriguing – well then, m'friend, go here: groups.yahoo.com/group/BryanxTalaML/
Anyway, that's about it for now. Ja!