-o0o- Chapter one -o0o-
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-o0o- Inane Creed -o0o-
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Allen's body felt numb. His left eye hurt and it was bleeding terribly. The sharp pain was hard to ignore, especially for a child. Especially for Allen. He more or less embraced the pain rather than tried to push it away. It was his only distraction to help him get over what had just happened. It was his only comfort. It was what he deserved.
Trembling, he shifted his head, hearing footsteps come closer and closer. Both eyes glazed over, glossy and hazed, bloody, with tears, agony, and torment. He didn't smile, no, far from it, but he didn't frown. All he could do was shake and bleed and cry, like a helpless and vulnerable foolish boy. He deserved his pain and he deserved nothing less than the worst of deaths. How could it can it get any worse? Mana died because of his foolishness. Allen then 'brought' the clown 'back to life' and turned his only family into a demon, a demon which tried to kill him out of rage and hatred. Then, Allen's demonic arm transformed into a... a... something monstrous and killed Mana a second time. Now he was dying of blood loss, dehydration, hunger, and he had no warmth or any shelter, therefore, probably hypothermia or pneumonia.
Because of that fat man all this happened.
Because of that evil, evil man.
With that stupid grin.
And that machine.
That skeleton.
That Akuma.
"Leverrier!" an even-toned boy's voice hollered, practically beside his ear. "This child seems to have met the Millennium Earl!"
The boy knelt down beside Allen, carefully and cautiously placing a hand on Allen's shoulder. Gray eyes met a blurry figure, somberly. The boy's hair was the only thing Allen could decipher-long blonde. "I think he's dying." he remarked, many more footfalls closing in.
Another boy knelt down in front of Allen, wiping the blood away from his left eye and trying to look at Allen clearly. Allen whimpered, cringing and squirming. His hands twitched, trying to push the other's hand away from his wound, but it was futile. He couldn't move his body. At best he could squirm and twitch and shift ever-so slightly. More tears streamed down his paler-than-usual and bloody face.
Allen's vision was bleak, but he focused long and hard on the two boys kneeling beside him. But the one touching Allen was making sure he was still alive, to make sure his pulse was still there. It was... Barely.
Looking deep into those dark eyes, Allen saw focus and calmness, slight interest and curiosity. The bluish-haired boy was nonchalant even as he fingered Allen's ugly left arm, then the cross that continued to glow a bright green-the green fiery flame that was, apparently, harmless. His lips thinned into a firm line as he looked up at someone.
"Innocence." he claimed. "He's an accommodater, sir." the blue-haired boy said softly, tone even and sincere-restricted.
The first boy - the blonde - physically studied Allen's left arm, running his fingers up and down the scaly red flesh, the bulging veins, the glowing cross. The black fingertips. Allen whimpered again, trying to retreat from their touch. He was afraid they would hurt him. "Jus'... bloody kill me... Please..." Allen silently begged, not even comprehending his own words.
The three strangers stared at him with icy orbs, gears turning in thought. After his plea, though, Allen slumped forward even more, spine cracking painfully loud, making both older boys cringe. As he began to fall, the blue-haired one grasped Allen's arms and steadied him.
"Sir, what do we do? We can't just leave him here to die. He's an accommodater. There's still a chance he'll live, if we hurry." the one holding Allen mumbled.
"We'll take him to the hospital and stabilize his condition... After which, we'll take him to Central with us." Leverrier informed, smirking to himself.
"Yes, sir." both boys responded.
The blonde looked at the other boy. "Do you need help carrying him, Madarao?"
"I'm fine, Link."
Madarao picked Allen up and put him on his back, glancing at Link with an unknown emotion. For a brief moment Link thought he saw pity and sincerity, but that quickly past and he wasn't sure if he was being delusional or not.
"Come on, we must hurry." Link told Madarao, and they both ran off.
Whispers echoed in his ears. A bright light glared into his eyes in a horizon angle. Then completely, in a whole. He blinked many times, trying to adjust to the light that wished to blind him. That thought was almost tempting though. To be blind... To miss everything horrible. Just see nothingness and hide your mind from blood and death. You know it's there in front of you, but at least you won't be forced to see it then.
He could hear his breathing, hitched and uneven. His chest hurt as it rose steadily and fell quickly, basically leaving him breathless until it rose again. His head throbbed. Specifically, the left side of his head. His throat hurt. Without someone telling him he knew he'd been screaming constantly, as it felt like it were bleeding and it was sore. His lips parted, trying to form words with his voice, but he failed and merely released carbon dioxide. However, you could hear him wheezing terribly and the crackling sound made the other occupants wince.
"He doesn't sound healthy." an unknown voice said.
"What'd you expect? He was half dead when we found him." a distinctively familiar voice said, matter-of-factly.
"Be quiet. He's coming to." another recognizable voice muttered. Allen could almost see the eye roll or shrug, maybe a glare, from the person who spoke.
Allen blinked again, grunting as he forced himself to sit up, but halfway up, firm hands landed on his shoulders. The silent demand was obvious. It was telling him to lay back down, but he refused to be ordered around by people, especially those he did not know or could not trust. He narrowed his eyes and continued to sit up, hacking horribly afterwards and his entire body was racking with pain. He all but coughed up blood and colorful dots scattered across his vision.
"Careful."
Allen lifted his head to see that same blue-haired boy again. This time he noticed peculiar markings on his face. Two dots were stamped on his forehead and he had weird markings under his eyes. They seemed orange... or were they red? Hmmmm.
"Where..?" Allen choked out, raspy and scratchy.
"You're at the Black Order... Central's hospital ward." the elder boy answered, examining Allen's broken body and those eyes that wallowed in pain and misery and grief. It was nowhere near everything he's seen from this boy (Allen) over the last month. The constant screaming, his body writhing and bleeding as if he were being tortured. The cries and whimpers in the middle of the night. He wailed and threw a fit, kicking and clawing at all those around him, trying to run around or something. His body was almost always violently thrashing, but the last three days have been abnormally different. Calm. It was something to be thankful for. "Leverrier will soon explain everything to you. For now, rest."
Allen's eyelids drooped. An evident scowl lay on his face and he glared at the kid in front of him. "What the bloody hell is a Black Order? Rest? Rest! I want out of here!" Allen yelled, trying to climb out of the bed, but big, tanned hands from behind him held him in place, but his feet kicked endlessly. He began to pant and yell at the people in the room, threatening them despite his condition. Then, when he ran out of energy and rude comments, he sat still, trying to catch his breath since he hadn't had much to begin with. He studied the room and the people-actually, kids-that helped to occupy the room.
There was six. One was that long blonde haired kid. The second was that pensive, focused, blue-haired boy who had to be like four, five years older than Allen. There were two girls. One with impressive blonde hair and the other with light green hair that reached below her jawline, but above her shoulders. Allen could bet you anything she'd looked prettier if she did something to her hair. Then there was a bulky tan... man.. guy... He was pretty tall and strong-looking. Allen really didn't want to brawl with him, but if he had to... Oooh, the shivers.
Lastly, there was another kid. His hair was rather long, but put back in a ponytail. He looked ridiculous that way, thus Allen snorted in contempt. He noticed they all had two spots on their foreheads, but the last one... he seemed to have a mocking visage... It pissed Allen off to no end. And he was giving this weird smile, amusement lighting up his horrid face.
"You needn't fear us. We are allies."
Allen stared at the person who seemed to be the leader of this troupe. "What is your name?" he asked.
Allen cocked an eyebrow, then leaned in. The sorrow was still singing in his eyes and burning his irises, but Madarao paid no heed... Or tried not to. "Why should I trust the likes of you?"
"Because we haven't mutilate your typically hideous arm." the weird, mocking-emitting boy commented.
Allen spun his upper body around so fast he almost threw up. His cheeks burned crimson with anger. "What did you say?"
"What I just said." he answered simply, shrugging. "If you didn't pay attention, then... oh well."
Allen tried to attack him, but he was stopped as a door slammed open and a rather intimidating man stalked in, his eyes never leaving Allen. The sickly boy eyed the funny mustache and his beady little eyes that seemed to pierce through his soul. All of the kids stood up immediately and bowed respectively.
"What a show." Allen muttered, crossing his arms.
The man walked up to Allen's bed, a small smirk on his face as his cold hand cupped Allen's right cheek. He eyed Allen with particular interest. "My, my... You're quite extraordinary, boy. Rare eyes, a red scar on your face, white hair, apparently a feisty attitude, but we'll quickly knock that out of you. Plus you're an accommodater. That's quite the remarkable achievement for someone your age... and size." he said briskly and Allen could smell sugar on his breath.
Allen smacked his hand away. "What the bloody hell are you rambling about? Meh hair is brown, you stupid git! And I ain't got no scar." Allen rolled his eyes in disdain. "And what the fuck is an accommo-" Allen was cut off by a sharp sting in his left eye. He clutched his head, eyes wide, and screamed. It took a few minutes, but Allen calmed down, panting, glaring at the man. "What'chu looking at?"
"Such foul language as well." the man noted, fiddling with a strand of Allen's stray hair. "Hmmm, I think we'll keep you here at Central for awhile. Now, rest up. You'll need your energy. But before you fall asleep, I would love to explain your situation, young man, and who the Millennium Earl and what you turned your father into."
Allen stared at him, biting the inside of his lips, which were now white. "I'm listening."
I thought I'd try something new. I hope you guys like this, even though just about EVERYONE, myself included most of the time, hates Malcolm C. Leverrier. The bastard. But, please, bypass him. There's always going to be a character you hate at some point. Please review and let me know what you think. That would be nice. Marvelous. Thanks for reading, and if you've read any of my other stories, then you know when I say -as arrogant as this may sound - this story will most definitely get better... In my personal opinion at least. But I'd like to know about yours!
Disclaim! : Disclaim! : Disclaim!
Disclaimer: -man isn't my original anime. I do not own characters or the plot: Disclaimer!
Disclaim! : Disclaim! : Disclaim!
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-o0o- D. Gray-Man -o0o-
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