A/N: I do not own Kingdom Hearts. This is the story of Axel's depression, step by step. Each step is a different ring of hell, thus he is 'Caught in the Hellfire'.
Pairings: AkuRoku, MarlyVex, slight Zemyx
POV: Axel's POV
Rating: M(ature Content)
Warnings: Yaoi, depression, dark thoughts, self-harm, bad parenting, psychological disorders
Summary: Axel is, as he says it, caught in the Hellfire. He's descending into the depths of hell, pulling along with him twisting emotions, as well as other people. He's angry, depressed, and just plain blue. Can someone raise him for pertinence before he burns to nothingness, or worse, freezes over? AkuRoku, Mental disorder.
PART ONE: LUST
Prologue:
The cafeteria is still the crowded mess it has always been. People everywhere were talking or pushing or shuffling, and very few were actually eating. Still, my eyes sought out the boy that had been on my mind since I saw him moping in my remedial mathematics class.
He was a new kid, one hell of a new kid. With eyes like that, I'm surprised he even has to pay for tuition, much less the standard school lunch. Disgusting stuff by the way, trust me. Anyway, they're blue and deep, like the ocean. Which is pretty ironic seeing as Oblivion Prep School is 98% of the students' own personal hell (mine included). Those eyes, they make me thirsty. Just a glance into them, and I'm positive that I would sure as hell drink him all up, given the chance. What's a guy got to do for a drink when he's burning in the hellfire?
A whole fucking lot.
His name is Roxas, or so I hear from Larxene who is quite possibly the biggest, blonde gossip in our entire school. Maybe that's just my opinion, though, seeing as she spends practically all of her with us guys. Who else is she going to spill all this hot gossip to? She's blunt, unlike most of the girls that I've talked to. To put it lightly, Larxene generally doesn't sugar coat things. Sometimes the words she say just come out a little harsher than she intends them to. Larx, though, she's one of us, and always will be.
One of us. Being one of us means you dress in black, means you attend all the right parties, means you sit in the middle of the disgusting cafeteria. Being one of us means you can never turn your back on us. You sit with us; no one will even breathe the wrong way in the same room as you. I don't know how we got so scary. It just sort of happened. We'd kill for each other. Breaking any of those bonds, turning on us especially, lead to consequences, scary bad consequences. Call us a gang, call us hoods, call us what you will. We're tight-knit, and that's never going to change.
So, his name is Roxas, and he's about five foot two. His hair is blonde, and kind of reminds me of a porcupine, but in a totally good way! I love the way his hair sticks out in those perfectly trimmed angles. His hair doesn't even come close to rivaling mine, though, but not even Andy Sixx has anything on me.
My hair, for instance, sticks out in just about every angle possible. I have to physically beat it into submission in the morning. Don't even get me started on what I have to do to get it going in the same direction. It's a struggle every day, and that's with the daily shower.
Roxas, that kid, he's got quite the built little body, and I swear he's got a secret piercing somewhere beneath those clothes. Just by watching him, I can tell he's the type.
As a self-proclaimed pirate, I would so go to his treasure island and take a look around.
God, what is wrong with me? I am such the horny bastard today. Damn, if only Marly hadn't welded himself to that science geek, Vexen, I'd be getting a blowjob in the janitor's closet right now. Sadly, though, my little pinkette is making googly eyes at the near criminally insane senior sitting four people away from myself. Damned man is going to make me work for sexual release, now, and that's just not how I work these days. I won't become the whore I used to be.
Instead, I just sit here thinking about the time in the eighth grade where I accidentally saw my friend Zexion's mom naked. Whew, I could just puke thinking about that bitch, but as long as it gets rid of the fucking catastrophe in my skin tight Tripp jeans. Zexi has quite the looks, but I'm guessing they come from his father's side, 'cause his mama has approximately the same sexual appeal as a piece of road kill.
Roxas, the sexy kid that he is, sits down at an empty table in the corner of the room. For a moment, I feel bad. I don't make a move, but in my head we're already fucking under the thin sheets in my flat. I curse his baggy pants, leaving my mind to imagine what he looks like without them.
Before I know it, the swarm of students has swept my mental play date out to sea, and I am left alone with the same amount of food I walked in with and a side of alone time with Zexion's mom. Fuck lunch, looks like I'm going home for the day.
Walking into my apartment reminds me of the life that I leave behind for school every day. In fact, without school I'm pretty sure that I would be lost. It isn't so much as I want to gather an education, rather it's the fact that I'd get bored and lonely way too easily.
I'm alone here, most of the time. Occasionally, mom and dad will come down from their endless rich-bitch high and visit me, or fly me out to see them. A couple years ago, they left me for the beaches and party cities surrounding the coast. Being the person I am, I chose to stay in my hometown- the beautiful Destiny Islands.
My parents never really did attempt to get close to me. The rich bitches they are decided that as long as they had an heir to their fortune, nothing else matters. When I turned sixteen, I begged not to be taken away from my little home on the islands. I came up with a solution and a deal. I asked for my own apartment, even promised I'd give up the drugs and the sex. What did they respond with? Hell yes. They'd give anything to protect their reputation.
"Just don't make any more… mistakes. You know what we're talking about darling."
Mistakes are a common word supplement for 'disappointments' and 'failures' in the eyes of my parents. A 'mistake' could qualify as many things- be it the crack or heroin, the random guys and girls I brought home, and even a few fucked up suicide attempts. If you ask me, my conception is a better example for a 'mistake'.
The point, anyway, is that my parents needed someone to trust their money with when they reach the age of old and dying. The way it began, dad was desperate and mom was living on the streets after getting kicked out of her old country home. It just so happened that my mom was pregnant when she met my dad. Just barely, that is, but she made sure to sleep with him fast. As far as anyone knows, I am my father's son.
Even dad doesn't know about it.
My mom's a whore for keeping such a secret from my dad. I'm pretty sure that my dad wouldn't care if I was his or not in the slightest. I mean, I'm only here for one good reason anyway, and we all know that if dad really wanted someone else with his money, he would've called his 'greedy, good-for-nothing" family.
The point is, I've got a lot on my plate. So what if I did a couple of bad things in my life? Does it have to make me a bad person?
Deciding that I'm not really hungry, I skip my after school snack, and plop down on the couch. I turn on my shitty little t.v, hoping that maybe something interesting will be on the news, or maybe a good soap opera will come on. After I cut basic cable from my list of bills to pay, my life at home started to consist of said soap operas, and trying to find dinner for free. Maybe I'll just skip eating at all tonight. The little food that I have needs to be savored.
Although my future is set (already in an apartment, and college fund complete), I still have to live paycheck-to-paycheck. If I wanted to, I could always get the money from my parents. In case it isn't obvious, I'm a bit of a rebel, and showing up my parents is always one of my top priorities. Sometimes, food just doesn't matter as much as other things.
There isn't really anything to watch on t.v, so I settle for a rerun of the Big Bang Theory. Before I know it, I'm dosing off.
Around me, the world starts to burn. Heat caresses my face, changing the shape into a melting blob. The sky above me has turned into a mirror.
It seems I'm stuck burning for hours, just screaming for help.
The ground starts to shake, taking me off guard, and I scream louder. It's a guttural sound, my scream, but it seems to keep fading…fading.
I crack my eyes open, feeling a soft vibration beneath me. I groan, thinking I won't fall back asleep for the rest of the night. With a sigh, I check the caller idea on my shitty little Nokia.
Demyx.
A little smirk forms on my lips at the thought of Demyx. He is, after all, the mastermind of my mistakes. Even when I gave up on the drugs, he was still around for me. Sleep definitely doesn't have the appeal that Demyx does, so I guess it's a good thing I woke up.
I flip open the phone, and wait for his piercing voice to fill the silence.
"Axxeeeellll! Guess what?!" He near shouts.
Over the years, you get used to the shrill sound of his voice. It's really not as hard as it seems- most people don't venture far enough to know the brain behind the voice. He's one of us, the people in the middle of the cafeteria, and one of my closest friends.
"What is it, Dem?" I ask, an amused yet tired expression crossing my face.
"There's a party tonight! I'll pick you in ten. OH! And that blonde kid you were eyeing? Larxene filled me in, by the way. (no, I'm not talking shit about you…no babe I love you hahaha!) Anyway, turns out he's friends with Pence, who's friends with Hayner, who's dating Seifer, who is Luxord's brother- and anyway, the point is he's invited, so dress sexy!"
CLICK.