This is a revised version of Part 1. Part 2 is here!
I am also looking for someone to Beta my stories. Is anyone interested? Send me a message from my home page, please :).
Also if anyone has info on any of Sector V's birthdays would you please let me know?
Rating: R, for mature and sexual themes. Chapter 2: Rated T, for violence and such.
Characters: Father, Nigel
Summary: Nigel Uno turns thirteen in one day. With the pressure of his most important mission riding on his back, he recklessly goes into the lair of the devil alone in attempt to capture the Rock Candy Gem –the most sought after treat of the generation. However only destruction awaits him, and Father's intentions are never good.
Notes: This was only going to be a two-shot, but I haven't written in a while, and when I came back to write the second chapter I realized there could be much more to this that I thought. So I've decided to make a series of stories with Nigel as the main character, and Father as the ultimate evil. This is the first part of those stories. Please enjoy and come back to finish off the series :) The series does not have a name yet, hehe.
Warnings- I don't watch much of KND anymore, but I still am in love with the original concept and characters, so please note that this was written before it was revealed that Father was Nigel's uncle, and many updates probably wont stick too close to the canon in newer episodes because i havent seen them. As for whether or not it matters to the story, it shouldn't so how you want to picture it is up to you.
"I'm frightened but I'm coming. Please, baby, please lay still,
Oh no. Oh no,
Not coming for the kill."
-The Tea Party, 'The Messenger'
…
N O I R / A M B I A N C E
Story 1, part 1/2
…
"Don't do this."
There is no response and the words sound pathetic hanging in the air like that. The twelve-year-old's fingers curl inwards forming a small fist, and it doesn't take long for his knuckles to turn a deep red, and eventually a pale blotchy white. Father supposes the boy must be squeezing really quite hard.
"Don't," says Father, "try to stop me."
The light pressure of the man's hand on his shoulder increases and Nigel takes a rapid step backward –only Father plays a game of cat and mouse, and he follows, never relenting the hand from his prey.
"Step away from the Gem, Nigel Uno. Rock candy is a deplorable thing to die for."
Nigel curses the emptiness of the manor, and Father's lips lift upwards, in a small, mocking, smirk. The boy's hand makes a swift motion to the small of his back and he whips his arm forward, touching the barrel of a rather cartoon-ish looking weapon to the man's chest.
"This mission is nothing, and neither are you. Either let me abort and escape, or die, you slime ball." Says Nigel, heavy with the accent, confident in his bluff. This Mission is everything. "Your choice," and he smirks.
"Arrogant child." Father speaking, curling his upper left lip, and sneering down at Nigel. He slaps the boy's wrist and the weapon falls to the ground. Nigel's smirk fades, and he doesn't dare move for the weapon.
"You think I don't know what rides on the back of this mission? I know more than you think. I've got spies in every corner, every inch of your little 'organization'! If you don't return with that gem, Mr. Uno, it will be quite difficult to be chosen to continue fighting as a teenage operative. Won't it? You do turn thirteen tomorrow, am I correct?"
The sound as the gun hits the marble floors is ear-shattering, and Father adds insult to injury when he kicks it across the room, and takes a step closer to Nigel. Nigel stares longingly where the thing spun and stopped. He turns his head back –reluctantly- to Father.
The room is dim. There is a bright glowing crystal near the end of the room –Nigel's target- that bleeds red light onto to walls and floors. Nigel notices, with unease, that Father's eyes are locked completely onto him, sizing him up, catching his own eyes before Nigel chokes up and turns away.
The smile returns to Fathers face, though it is a distant one, and cold. Father realizes –with great amusement- that Nigel must not know what is in store for him. How could he? He was only twelve, after all. Twelve, a child…children, he wrinkles his nose with distaste for the word. At least they were good for one thing. But soon, he would be thirteen. Tomorrow in fact. If Father owed him any thing, he thought, it was a rude awakening into his future as a teen, and soon…an adult.
"Let me go." Says Nigel, not at all displeased with the break in the uncomfortable silence. Fathers head moves slowly from side to side. 'No.'
Nigel blinks, and Father's lips are suddenly on his, and by the time the man's tongue slides through the much younger boy's lips his senses and chain of thought re-awaken, and he flails his arms, wrenching his neck back and pulling away from the man as best he could.
"What are you doing! Let me go, now! Freak! Let me go!" He kicks out, but misses.
Nigel doesn't quite know when the other's hands grasped both his arms, but he wishes he had been paying attention because it is proving a bit difficult to pull away now. Father chuckles and pulls Nigel closer, despite his screams of protest and impressively shameful vocabulary of insults. The air is cold, but Father's breath on his face is warm, and he doesn't pull away.
Within seconds Father's mouth is on his again, and he tries to scream the man away through the kiss. Father pulls back, with an irritable scowl, and Nigel tries again to desperately push the man off of him.
"Shut UP!"
Nigel is on the floor before he knows what happens, and his head is spinning from impact with the marble and the only thing visible through his unfocused vision is the red glow. Father crawls over him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pressing him onto the unwelcoming cold of the floor.
"Shut up, or I'll do it for you, you miserable brat."
The 'or' should have been 'and', thinks Nigel bitterly, because without fail, father presses their lips together, and demands entrance. Their tongues clash awkwardly, their teeth bang together, and their nose's hit occasionally from the restless movement of Nigel's head, still trying for a desperate escape. Father's tongue is slimy, and disgusting, and not at all what Nigel pictured any sort of kiss should be like. Despite it all, his struggle is slowly lessening.
Father sucks on his bottom lip, and Nigel gets the idea to bite down hard, rip his top lip apart, and run away, but he hesitates because the pressure suddenly lifts from his mouth and Father's lips reattach themselves at the corner of his jaw. His tongue flicks over Nigel's earlobe, and he shudders.
He wants so badly to beat Father into the ground –kill him, if he could work up the courage- but fathers hands are at both of wrists, pushing them into the ground, and crushing Nigel's hopes for escape. Father transfers both of Nigel's wrists to one hand, above his head and peels the neck of the boy's shirt down. He runs his tongue along Nigel's neck, planting harsh, sloppy kisses in random places, and eventually rests his mouth right above Nigel's collarbone, kissing and sucking the skin there.
Despite himself, a small moan rises from the boy's throat, and all hell breaks loose.
Father is no longer at his collarbone and the heat of the other man's mouth at his throat has disappeared completely. He sits up, straddling the boy so that he cannot move, and begins to undo the zipper of his shorts. Nigel's eyes widen in horror, and he begins wriggling against the man again. He is aware of the tears of horror at his eyes, running down his cheeks. He is aware that he can do nothing about them.
"You're juvenile actions have finally caught up with you Nigel Uno… I'll teach a lesson for your childish behavior."
Father undoes his own pants, fumbling on the button in his rushed movements.
"Stop whining, and take it. Don't make a noise unless I tell you to, or I swear the hell you're about to enter will seem like heaven after I'm through with you."
He doesn't want to please the man in any way, he wants to scream and shout, and whine as loud as he possibly can. However, his cries choke his words.
Father's pants slide down and around his knees, and he smirks sadistically. He bends back down yanking Nigel's pants down, licking and kissing Nigel's groin, and again Nigel moans hesitantly. Father bites him. Hard.
"Not unless I say, you little brat!"
The man runs a hand up Nigel's leg, and buttocks, and he strokes Nigel's thighs with his thumb. Nigel's eyes are closed, shut tight, but the tears won't stop, and they fall faster when the man arranges both of their positions, and Nigel's legs end up spread, and his bottom lifted from the ground, and he's struggling fiercely.
Father thumbs his entrance, pressing in softly, and loosening the young boy to better fit his needs. It's a train wreck- he knows it's bad and yet can't help but look, can't help but watch the slow deconstruction of his dignity, his career, and his body. Father's thumb pulls away and is replaced with something else entirely
Father slides inside, forcing a cry of pain –Just how Father likes it- from Nigel's throat. The boy is tense and red faced, and the sweat from his forehead is mixing with his tears, and dripping on the floor. Father is displeased with the last part.
Nevertheless he continues, and Nigel screams, and the noise rebounds off the walls and stays fresh in Father's mind as he moves, and makes Nigel move with him.
Nigel feels both of his arms pulled upward, and both wrists are bound by only one of Fathers hands now… The other is at his neck.
"Father," a low groan, "say it!" Father is a wolf who never bothers to play dress up.
And out of fear of death, or worse, Nigel does. Again, and again.
There is a final cry and He grins. The boy and the Wolf. Father "shh's" the whimpering. Though, he doesn't care if Nigel is comforted or not, and Nigel knows this. Though, he is aware that Nigel knows this and continues to do so anyway.
Nigel wishes he would stop pretending to care, but he can't do anything to stop him.
He couldn't do anything to stop him.
…
When everything was over Father said nothing. He stood, and dressed fully and strode toward the door, reaching for the knob, hesitating only to speak in a harsh tone toward the crumpled boy on the ground.
"Get out, now. I'm done with you. Take the gem if you must, it's a fake."
Nigel couldn't cry anymore, only feel his spirit shatter, and be tossed aside.
"Heh, Happy thirteenth birthday, Numbuh 1"
His watch was ringing, requesting his attention, but he was lost in despair and ignored it. He was still, and the coldness of the room caused him to shiver. His legs shook, and his insides ached, and he thought his gut might spill out of his throat. He couldn't stand, only lay defeated on the marble and try to weep. In such a short amount of time…what had he become?
The watch was calling his name in one of his colleague's voices –he couldn't tell which.
(Numbah one! Numbah one come in!)
He didn't care.
(Numbuh one!! The gem is a fake, get outta there!!! Hello? Come in Numbuh one!)
He removed the watch and, violently, flung it across the room. His mind spilled out onto the floor.
Father... Father! Darn it all!
His mind was shouting angrily, his pulse pounding madly in his forehead. That man! That damned man had claimed his innocence, his childhood, his body, and abused him. Abused him in ways Nigel could hardly even grasp. His thoughts were violent, unlike any raw anger he had felt before. More than when he had found out of 274's betrayal, worse than any rage brought on by a failed mission. No! He was filled with pure hatred for this one man…
But, there was also a terrible sorrow that silenced him to the bone and made him unable to cry out. He was broken and ashamed, and could hear father's footsteps echoing in the halls above him. His mind slipped away from him, the light was dimming further, his conscience fading, and all he could think of was Father, and the blazing red glow of the Rock Candy Gem, somewhere in the room.
Then red faded to black, and everything was still.
…
Reviews are ALWAYS nice. :)
Constructive critiscism & Story/Plot ideas for the series are totally welcom as well.
Have a nice day. c: