And there he was. He couldn't see much in the darkness of the alley, but he knew someone was there.

"Who's there?" He asked, afraid to take a step forward. He was greeted by silence.

"Hello?" He asked, taking a few hesitant steps back. He had sworn he heard a voice coming from here.

Maybe he should have just left.

But someone spoke.

"Hey, slut." That was what they said.

He was confused.

"Who, me?" He asked to the darkness. But then, he saw something move. It looked like a foot.

"Yeah, you. What other whores do you see around here?" The voice sounded almost feminine, but with a hint of masculinity. He thought it sounded familiar, but dismissed the thought; and replaced it with another one.

"I'm not a whore... I just heard something back here. Was it you?" He asked innocently, trying hard not to do anything that might provoke this somewhat-familiar stranger.

"Yes, you are. Come here." The darkness said.

And then, against his will, he was taken into the darkness.

He felt hands tearing at him, and distantly, a voice laughing, and himself screaming. After minutes of confusion, he looked to the dirty ground, and saw a small shining pool.

"You know what that is, slut? Blood. Your blood." The voice said, now tinted with pleasure. His eyes went wide, and he suddenly felt the pain all over.

He gave a scream, and fell onto his side, clutching himself in pain. He began to writhe and scream in pain, but was silenced by a rough hand that smelled of cigarette smoke. He could feel something hot and wet on the hand. He was forced to taste it.

It was more blood.

"Thanks for all the fun, whore; but I have to go now." The voice said quietly, and he felt two arms wrap around his stomach and squeeze it, causing another burst of pain.

He felt as though he was being torn from the inside out. Agonizing pain oozed from every pore.

He felt something uncomfortable digging into him, something that felt like nails or a hand, and he tried to squirm away. The arms released him, and he fell hard onto the concrete ground.

His cheek skidded against the pavement, causing it to burn worse than before. More blood collected around him, and he gave a small whimper of pain.

The figure placed two lips on his neck, and bit it hard, blood drizzling from the sore. They then whispered into his ear. "Don't worry, I'll be back, pretty little whore... soon enough."

Then, they were gone.

Before slipping into unconsciousness, he thought he saw a flash of white hair that was illuminated by the dim glow of a nearby streetlight; but he ignored it.

The water stung his skin. It was marred with bruises, gashes, and scratches. He winced in pain, and pulled his legs closer to him, as if trying to avoid the water trickling into the drain.

He could still feel the horrible, cold hands on him; feeling him, torturing him. He could still feel the two horrible lips, colder than ice.

He gave a shiver, despite the steaming heat of the shower's water.

He mustered up the strength to reach up and turn off the water, and gave another shudder as the falling drops ceased.

He tried to grip the wall for support, but instead had to use the water knobs. He stood weakly, his legs shaking.

He fell to the tile, and cried out loudly in pain. He bit his aching lip; it being sore due to being abused by the stranger's teeth; and tried again.

He managed to push the shower curtains out of the way before staggering into the bathroom.

He suddenly felt very sick, and proceeded in vomiting a bit into the sink. He wiped some of the bile off of the side of his mouth, and rinsed it you.

He staggered into his living room, using the wall to crawl towards the couch. He fell onto it; and despite the softness of the cushions, he still winced in agony.

Everything hurt.

He twisted his head to look at the wall clock. It read 5:54. He was already late for work. He tried to stand, but had lost all his energy.

No. He had to. Mihael Keehl didn't call in sick. He had to muster up the energy to get out there and do his job. But he just... couldn't.

Mello couldn't stop thinking about the horrible stranger. The whispered warnings, fantasies, and comments of love were drifting in his head like ghosts. He gave another shiver, his naked body frigid despite the steamy heat that was resonating from the bathroom.

He closed his eyes tight, willing the horrible image out of his mind. But it wouldn't go away.

He saw his blood, dripping on to the ground. He felt the pain; felt it tear at every cell in his body. He still felt it. He still saw it. Blood was oozing from several gashes that had been implanted on his body by the
rough hands, fists, and teeth of the stranger.

"Just look at you, you cute little slut... covered in sweat and blood...your blood, your sweat..."

Those words were drilling holes into his head. He entangled his fingers in his blond locks, and gave a strangled cry. He felt himself shaking, shivering. There was too much pain.

He opened his eyes, tears welling up inside him. He knew that Matt would be worried. He was always worried. He looked once more at the clock. 5:57. Matt would be coming by any minute to check up and see if he was okay.

He had to get something on, so Matt wouldn't see him like this. He struggled his way into a pair of pants, and felt even his hands ache as he pulled them on. He was shivering some more, and now he felt very hot.

It felt as though darkness was surrounding him in a mist. He couldn't see anything but the horrible stranger in the shadows. The shadows were reaching out and caressing him, gently scratching at his skin, wanting to get inside and overtake him. He gave a whimper, and fell to his knees.

It was covering him, choking him, abusing him. He could feel it inside his head, beating on it. He gripped his hair, trying so hard to will it all away. But it wouldn't work.

There was a loud knock on the door that roused him from his living nightmare, and he froze. Damn... it was Matt.

He limped over to the door, and very slowly opened it; trying not to cause any more pain. He was greeted by Matt's wide, goggle-covered eyes. His mouth was open slightly in shock. What he saw scared him.

Mello was covered in scars and scratches, and blood was drizzling down his body. He had on only a pair of pants, and sweat was beaded on his face and forehead.

"Mello... holy shit; what happened?" He commanded, stepping inside. Mello said nothing, his hand slipping off of the doorknob as he fell over. Matt caught him, and led him over to the couch.

They sat down, and Matt felt the blonde's forehead. He brushed away some hair, and very gently pressed his palm against the pale, hot skin. Mello gave a cry of pain. When Matt removed his hand, it was covered in sweat.

"Mello... tell me what happened." Matt said, staring hard into Mello's distant-looking eyes.

Mello seemed unable to speak for a moment; but then a few words croaked out of his scarred mouth.

"Matt... The shadows... the shadows, they hurt..." He whispered. His eyes became covered with

darkness from the edges in, and it crawled around like millions of little worms; shutting off his vision from the rest of the world. He could feel himself falling, and heard Matt give a cry, and then everything was silent.

The darkness was everywhere. He could feel it surrounding him. It crawled up and over his legs, wrapping itself around him.

He could vaguely hear voices in the background; whispering. But he couldn't understand them.

The darkness now covered his back and arms, digging into his skin, and making him scream in pain. It hurt so much...

His eyes were useless to the pitch black around him. The voices got louder, and he recognized it as the person in the shadows.

"You little whore... that's right... watch the blood flow from your wounds!"

"Don't be so loud; the shadows might get angry..."

"Come now, don't run away... I've got something for you."

He gave another cry, but found no sound coming out. The tendrils of darkness were curling their way around his face and head, surrounding him, constricting him.

The figure walked away from him as he felt his mind slip out from under him. He caught a one second glimpse of white hair in the dim light, and one word came into his mind.

Near... He thought as the shadows worked their way over him.

Then, the darkness swallowed him whole.