Title: Call Me Your Master
Author: Fenikkusu Ai
Rating: M
Fandom: Tokyo Ghoul
Characters: Yamori, OC
Words: 1,224
Genre: Angst/Horror
Summary: A cold chill seeped through his entire body. Daiki heard a reptilian hiss of approval punctuated by the bones cracking in his fingers. Yamori already knew what Daiki was feeling as it was written all over on his face.
A/N: The title is inspired by "Call Me Master" by Blood On the Dance Floor. My inspiration...is dark.
It was only a matter of time before Daiki butted heads with Aogiri, and he was dealt with in an appropriate fashion.
Daiki had always been too...curious. The world was so interesting. Except that he had his Iphone out at the wrong moment. It seemed that the world never seemed to miss him, especially when he was trying to get a scoop. After all, he liked to see, but not be seen.
When he saw the white suits approaching him, he hauled ass and scurried out of sight. Apparently, it hadn't been fast enough.
Later, Daiki couldn't sleep in his apartment that night, so he figured that he had fucked up pretty bad.
He imagined invisible eyes were watching him type the keys of his laptop or as he slept in his crappy single bed. He stared at the ceiling and tried to still his breathing. The longer he stayed in there, Daiki became aware that he was being observed.
Daiki didn't sleep that night. Instead, he nursed his blue coffee cup until the afternoon. Mercifully, he had passed out and when he had awoken again, it was sunset.
Two days later, it was proven that his suspicions weren't wrong.
Daiki had never presumed that he was safe. Instead, he let the storm develop of its own accord. It was all he could do short of leaving Tokyo.
Finally, he was accosted in an alley and never did make it to the office supply store. Now, here he was. Sitting on a splintery old chair with chains digging into his arms and ankles. Trussed up like a chicken.
To illustrate, the huge man in front of him made his skin crawl. He should have been on the streets right now with his gang. But then, Daiki had to go and invade his territory. Daiki was dumb. He freely admitted it.
No wonder he didn't have friends.
Daiki studied the big ghoul only from his back when he wasn't looking. Thankfully, the other ghoul only conversed when necessary. Unfortunately, when he did, his words were often rife with odd shit. The dude wasn't wrapped too tight.
"I like to call myself Yamori," the big guy finally intoned.
Ah. Gecko. Those little lizard things. Daiki wanted to snort. Not the most intelligent thing to do.
"But, you can call me Jason as well." A smirk was on his lips now.
All at once, Daiki stopped struggling. The chains weren't coming off anyway.
Jason? The Jason? Of the 13th Ward? Daiki realized now that he was screwed.
Yamori bent to get in his personal space. He realized that he now had his unfortunate victim's full attention. Daiki ducked his head.
"Now, what's 1000 - 7?"
Apparently, it was a math lesson now. Good thing he had been an honors student.
"993," Daiki answered confidently.
Daiki was surprised that the big man knew math; he assumed that he was too dumb to count. But then, math had always been one of his better subjects. Ever since had had been a misfit in high school.
The big ghoul circled around him like a predator.
"And then..." Yamori's words hung like spiderwebs.
993 - 7= ?
As Daiki sat there dumb, in one swift movement, the madman brought down a sledgehammer down on his foot.
Daiki's focus had spiked high, but now it was falling like a stone. The pain was unfair. It stole his thoughts. The sensations was making him go dumb. Still, he tried. He grasped blindly in the dark. Daiki wouldn't be beaten so easily.
"...986," he gasped. He swore that he saw stars.
Was that a smile on Yamori's lips? A wry one as opposed to an approving.
"Good."
Daiki had almost breathed a sigh of relief. He had almost missed.
So, Daiki was the student, and Yamori was the math teacher. How massively screwed up.
"Try one more," Yamori suggested.
Please, Kami-sama, no.
Daiki's foot throbbed in agony. The bones were completely shattered. A foot had approximately 26 bones, and right now, they were powder.
"Uh..." He winced. "977."
Crap. He had screwed up. Yamori's face lit up in joy.
"977? Try again."
Daiki's thoughts multiplied rapidly.
"979!" He shrieked.
It was too late. Daiki had made a mistake, and Yamori was merciless.
And so, the process continued. They said math was hell, but it paled in comparison to this situation. The repeated injuries were making Daiki weak, and Yamori knew it. Especially now that a pair of cutters made their appearance. 10 - 3= 7. That's how many toes Daiki had left. He was also in possession of ten fingers, and he was sure that Yamori knew it.
His body would heal eventually, he knew, but what good would it do him? Daiki would just be broken again.
At around 727, the big ghoul leaned down to whisper in his ear. Yamori had only one "small" request. To call him master.
No words escaped Daiki's mouth. Later, he would curse himself for not fainting right then and there. It would have been easier for him if he had.
At first, Daiki was dumbfounded, but eventually he grasped full comprehension of his torturer's words? A cold chill seeped through his entire body. He heard a reptilian hiss of approval punctuated by the bones cracking in his fingers. Yamori already knew what Daiki was feeling as it was written all over on his face.
Daiki shuddered. Whenever, Yamori did that, Daiki knew to prepare for the worst. It was a very bad sign. Almost as if he were psyching himself up.
If Daiki said that, what would be left?
Nothing. His will would be gone.
Daiki wondered how many layers of hatred had spread beneath this man' s skin and what or who had caused them. Had they been scarier than Yamori was? No matter. Daiki would never meet them. Yamori was ready to finish him off right here and now.
Of course...not immediately. Daiki was too entertaining.
He was like a fish running out of water. Soon, Daiki would laying on his side and gasping for air. Speaking of which, he should have gotten a fish tank when he was alive. He was already thinking about himself in the past tense now. That was understandable.
So, Daiki focused on the pain instead of Yamori. Eventually, the big man guessed his game.
Yamori frowned at him. "So silent. Too silent. What did I just say?"
Ah, yes. Master.
Why? To stoke Yamori's ego? Was it necessary? Would it bring relief?
He didn't have time for this sick sadistic shit. Daiki wouldn't say it. His temper flared inside him lighting into a cinder. However, soon it was stamped it out. By Yamori's heel.
With lightning-fast reflexes, the cutter was again at work. Clearly, he had taken too long to answer. Amused laughter circled around his ears. Were there even any toes left? Daiki couldn't check.
Daiki realized that he had been beaten. The psycho wasn't going to stop.
Suddenly, the word bubbled up his throat of its own accord. Even Daiki was surprised he had lasted this long.
The pain surged through him. It overcame all rationality.
"Ma-st-er!" Daiki quite nearly shrieked.
Yamori started to laugh. "Now, was that so hard?"
In spite of Daiki's admission, the pain didn't cease.
Just as he had expected.