Pelleas is in another time, another world, when Izuka slips in the room with the aid of the sinister shadow of a puppet theater.
"Dear, dear boy, studying hard?" And Izuka smiles mechanically with a twist and a turn of his thin feral lips. Pelleas looks into the Psychedelic colors of Izuka's eyes, and instantly feels the wires shackled to his wrists tighten and slice into his flesh.
Pelleas has to answer, has to beckon to the call of the metallic façade, or else the thin wires will sever his writs clean off.
"It's a Worm book," he lies through his pretty pink lips. It's actually a story book; a fairytale used to compensate the tiring work of studying. But if Izuka finds out the prince is loafing, enjoying himself in a small simple pleasure, the strings around his wrists will tighten.
Izuka's smile starts to falter as he puts the battered edges of a unkempt hand tentatively to a pale cheek. Long, silver nails softly dig into flesh.
"My boy, you like are like a son to me," a palm, gritty and calloused, starts rubbing against at a smooth and sleek cheek. Pelleas feels as if his cheek is being grazed away by sandpaper, "You light my world, show me the truth."
And Pelleas has to smile, and for a moment he forgets the hand against his cheek, the wires around his wrists. He never had a father, and maybe Izuka is trying to be his mentor, his (only) friend.
But Izuka's smile corrodes away into a sneer, and the battered hand transitions into an iron-fist. It makes contact to a nose that was steadily growing with the mulch of lies. Pelleas suddenly finds himself on the floor, blood oozing from the shattered remnants of his naval cavity. He's wailing, but Izuka doesn't care as new wires grow steddily from his stannic nails.
"A sun that lights my way, a son that rises with the help of time," and Pelleas suddenly feels fear coursing through him as a new wire wraps around his throat, "But, don't you know? Lies are the wires that pull you down, sun sets the light over the horizon."
Pelleas is chocking for air as the wire coils around his neck, blood is dripping on the open page of a fairytale with a happy ending.
There are footsteps echoing through an open corridor, and the light of a blue fairy suddenly slips through the shadows of the stage. Izuka pulls the wires, and Pelleas is up on his feet.
Shadows are dispelled by the light of a Mother, save for the silhouette of the puppeteer that can never be dispelled by a light so artificial. Eyes, the mixture of turquoise and green, scan the haunted theater.
The Mother, The Blue Fairy, asks of the events that have transpired, but the wire around the throat of Pelleas binds him into silence. ("Off with your head, as they say, my boy. It's in the fariytales I forbade you to read.")
He cannot tell a lie.
He cannot tell the truth.
The wire commands him to be silent, as Izuka lies for him.
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