Pairings: Zexion and Demyx (I'm not sure if I'll put any other's in here yet.)
Warnings: Cussing D:! Yaoi, insanity, lawyers, ignorant pricks, crazy ex-wives (Oh no! I'm giving away too much! –is shot-)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in the story. Either the creators of FF, KH and KH2, or my brain own them (my brain owning the random and seemingly useless characters)
Now on to the more exciting stuff: THE AUTHOR'S NOTES! :D
Haha well…I'm proud of myself, for once. Well, kind of. This story was actually planned out and meant to be written! Wewtwewt! My first one xD but I still have my story Excruciating Ardor to update but instead I'm doing this x( -slaps self- I need to get my priorities straight.
-clears throat-…uhmm well, this plot has been in my mind for a long while now, and I'm just now typing it. It's changed a lot from the original but I guess it's still pretty good. My friend helped out a lot with writing it, with the grammar and word choice, and stuff like that. Hmm, well I'm not really sure what else to say at the moment, so I guess…I hope you enjoy it? –weak smile-
And sorry it's so short. I didn't want to add anything else and totally ruin what I had already put xD
XxXxX
Internal Crisis
Chapter 1
This Little Place I Like to Call Hell
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Lighting flashed across the colorless sky, and the sound of thunder was ricocheting off the light gray building that stood dolefully above the gray-green ground. Ominous clouds poured buckets of rain unmercifully to the flooded soil. Gusts of wind blew dead leaves and other small debris past the barred windows and out on the coal colored road that led the way out of the gated prison. Most of the people inside the building desperately wanted to be one of those leaves. They dreadfully wished to leave this ghostlike palace, but to their dismay…they would never set foot on the pavement outside of the deteriorating gate that forever imprisoned their twisted minds and tormented souls.
Each 'prisoner' inside went about his or her own way as they usually did on a day like this. Some were sauntering about the large tiled common rooms, or sleeping the day away in their stuffy cells. Others stared out the barred windows, dreaming of the freedom they had and had been taken away from them. A handful occasionally would mumble dark things to themselves in different corners. But other than the rustle of feet and insane banter, the society of peculiar residents kept the building relatively quiet.
The strange silence of the penitentiary was broken by a sudden high-pitched shrill of a bell. 12:30. Everyone's head lifted, as they knew what to do, and immediately stood up from where they were perched. It was time for their weekly assessment; everyone headed for their cells.
Everyone, except one misunderstood being.
His head hung depressingly, while he chuckled to himself, ranting on about dreadful things he thought about this place and the people who inhabited it. It was barely audible to the black haired guard that now lead him down the empty halls. All that was heard from the captive was the slight sound of his voice, an occasional low laugh, and the rattle of the metal chains that bound his wrists and ankles. His gait was slow and with each step he subconsciously wished for a solution to his unfortunate position.
They approached and entered the interrogation cell, their original destination. Zexion saw a well-dressed, middle-aged man in a black suit, leaning against the eggshell painted wall. He looked like every other person who'd come to see him. Ordinary. Cruel. Closed-minded, like all the rest. Noticing his presence, the physiatrist took a seat across from the hostage's chair. He scanned a large pile of documents and inhaled deeply.
"I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Richard Hampton. I have been assigned to help you, for my job is to help unfortunate beings such as yourself." The man held out a friendly hand for Zexion to shake, but he just sat there, with a disquieting smile plastered on his pale face. "So…" The man said, withdrawing his hand and pushing his thick-rimmed glasses higher on his nose, feeling a little uncomfortable now. He read the name posted on the thick-bound file, "Mr. Bedlam, or do you prefer Zexion?" The man waited for a replied, but none came. Then Dr. Hampton cleared his throat and continued. "I have talked to many of the staff and some of your fellow cell-mates, and most all have told me you are guilty of the crimes you are committed of, but let me tell you I am the best there is in my profession, and I plan to set things right in your life. So please inform me, why do so many believe you are mentally unstable?"
Without warning, a sudden spine-shivering cackle was heard throughout the building, bouncing off the walls and echoing till the eerie voice was left in your head, haunting your every thought. A laugh so sinister that every demon on Earth ran for cover in a darkening abyss, hoping there, they would be safe from the maniacal being and his paranormal joy.
Zexion leaned over the table, in one swift, fluid movement. He was inches away from Dr. Hampton's face, the heat of his breath fogging the doctor's thick glasses, the stench of the cafeteria food dwelling in his breath. With each word that left his cold, pale lips, the physiatrist shivered and shook with fear.
"We're all a little messed up in the head, aren't we Doc?" Zexion pulled his face away and reached into Dr. Hampton's pocket and pulled out a hanky. He carefully unfolded the creases, where it had been neatly ironed. Then wiping the fog from the black bifocals, Zexion continued his intimidating speech.
"Ya see, some people are better at showing their insanity than others. Most of us just bottle it up, never letting it out, worried about what society would think. But the people who show who they really are…they are the ones imprisoned in this god-forsaken place. They are the miserable ones!" Zexion banged his chained fist down on to the top of the table, causing the doctor to jump. "Let me tell you this…I'm not crazy, I'm just doing whatever I want when I want. This is supposed to be a free country. I should be able to act as I please, but I'm being punished. The only thing you need to know about my situation is that I'm completely 100% innocent."
Dr. Hampton stood up abruptly and straightened his posture. He then nervously took back and refolded his hanky, clearing his throat again. He packed up his belongings (leaving the files) not once making eye contact.
"It seems to me that our meeting has been interrupted by a very important, unexpected …uh…. thing I have to do…. involving someone not mentally crazy. I mean! Someone not here…uh…I think it'd be best if I left now." The doctor briskly walked towards the door, running in the direction of the asylum's front door as soon as he exited the room.
Zexion emerged from the chamber and looked at the guard, a wide grin beginning to crack his flawless face.
The guard's handsome face twisted in irritation. "You did that on purpose! That's the 6th one you've scared off this month! What the hell is your problem?! Can't you see that the people here are TRYING to help you!? And all your being is…is…" his voice trailed off, as he noticed Zexion was ignoring his rantings. He had begun to mumble to himself again, his off-putting smirk vanishing.
"… One day, you all will pay for my misery. One day, I will take my opportunity of revenge. I will have your throats in my hands, your fate at my fingertips. Your blood will be on my clothes, and your mangled bodies at my feet. And as you cry out in misery, I will sit there and laugh, just as you did to me."
The guard looked at him warily, unsteady and scared stiff. Reluctantly, he took Zexion by the arm and led him to his glass cell. He hurriedly unlocked the cell door, pushing Zexion in and locking it vigorously, hurriedly walking away. Not once did he look back.
Zexion knew what would happen next. The owner of this hell would come and yell at him for scaring yet another 'happy helper' away, and would get his meal taken again. Then he would start rambling on about how hard it will be to find another psychiatrist/lawyer to come and help him, and how much of a burden he was to the place. They just wanted him out of here; no matter how much money and lying it took.
Zexion sighed sadly and looked around his forsaken home. The white walls showed sign of old age. The paint was peeling off the walls, and the edges of the room were stained with dirt and blood. There was a window next to the headboard of his bed that sat in the corner, but it was clouded by spider webs and the tombs of their former prey. You could barely see past that, not to mention the pounds and pounds of dirt and other debris that were also a hindrance to Zexion's sight. Why they couldn't clean it and his room, he didn't know. Nor did he bother to care. He fell on his decaying bed with a loud thud. He sat in silence for the remainder of the night, words of sadness echoing in his head:
"…What did I do to deserve this…?"
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He sat on the hard, cold chairs, unmoved, barely breathing. The room was still, and the odor of stale food filled the air. All that was heard was the clinking of silver ware against tin trays. His eyes were focused on the dead of the day outside. The leaves whipped around the colorless sky, a sure sign another storm was on its way. Zexion sighed desperately, turning his attention down at his tray, still full with sordid food.
He slowly stood, not bothering to throw away the 'meal'; someone would eat it. It was most likely going to start a fight, and Zexion loved causing the headmaster as much pain as he could possibly could.
The meals weren't very proportioned, so if someone didn't eat it, the animals attacked for it. He'd been told not to leave it alone for this very reason, but again, he didn't bother listening to reason. He'd been done with that for more than a year.
He walked casually out of the cafeteria, followed by the same guard as the day before. He must've been permanently assigned to him. Guards took turns guarding patients. Not one stayed to a specific person for more than a day at a time. But he didn't make an effort to ask about it.
Zexion hated being in the common room areas. He hated seeing the people that he'd so suddenly been associated with. The crazies. The lunatics. He wasn't one of them. He had a mind that wasn't just a muscle of nothing. Or at least he was in his own mind. That's why he preferred to spend his daylight hours in his cell. Away from everything and everyone.
They were silent as they walked back to the 'high security cell' section where he was kept. Zexion didn't see why he needed to be held there. He was the closest to sane than the rest of the lot here in this atrocious prison. He wasn't dangerous in any sense of the word.
When they were back to Zexion's room, the guard unlocked it and held it open for the prisoner to enter. But said prisoner didn't move.
The guard looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Aren't you going to…uhh…enter?"
Zexion turned slowly around to face him. "Today I'm getting assessed by a student in the local college, am I correct? I recall you talking to the head master about it earlier this morning in front of my cell." He chuckled. "You two really need to keep it down when talking about personal matters such as those. I like to sleep in a bit sometimes, and you disrupt me much to much with your mindless banter." He gave him an unpleasant smirk, making the guard uneasy.
"I-I'm sorry number 213, I'll try not to be so loud."
Zexion's smirk vanished. "It's quite alright, guard. And please, call me Zexion." He paused in thought. "What is your name anyways? I recall the head master saying it before, but I wasn't interested at the time."
The guard smiled thoughtfully. "I'm sorry. I don't feel…comfortable giving patients my name."
Zexion looked disgruntle. "Oh come on…you can tell me." He gave him an unsettling grin.
"Uhmm, I guess I could tell you…my name's Zack…Zack Fair…" He said with a nervous laugh.
Zexion's smile widened. He almost looked happy. Almost.
"Zack Fair…It's nice to know someone who isn't either your worst enemy or some stuck up prick…" The guard knew what he was talking about.
The so-called 'doctors'.
He felt bad for Zexion in a way. His life was boring and dull, to say the least. He stuck out his hand to the slate haired man in front of him, but Zexion didn't take his friendly gesture.
"If you don't mind I'd like to get some rest before my guest wants to see me." He turned and walked into the still open cell, closing it himself.
XxXxX
"So Demyx, where did you get assigned to?"
Demyx sighed and looked up from his music magazine. He met his friend's curious gaze. Hesitantly, he replied to his red haired companion. "I got the most difficult one, the one having to do with the crazy person." Demyx could see that Axel was a little lost. "The one that nobody fucking wanted! The one at the Harlington Penitentiary. I have to settle this case for this one crazy guy. I had no choice. It was the last one to pick."
"Oh damn, that sucks for you." Axel chuckled, he leaned in and looked over his shoulder, and then he finished his statement in a voice no higher than a whisper. "Heard only the most insane go there for help, and once they go in, they don't come back out. Most anyone who goes there for visits comes out with only half the sanity they had when they entered that unnatural place."
Demyx smirked and stood up from his seat. He patted Axel lightly on the shoulder, and sighed deeply. "I think all those dramatic soap operas are getting to your head, buddy." Axel rolled his eyes and began to laugh along with Demyx. As the mood grew lighter, the bell rang and they headed for their next class.
"Hey Dem? When did you say you have to go visit that crazy person at that hospital?"
Demyx didn't look at his friends when he replied. "I think sometime today. Why?"
"Aren't you nervous about it?" Axel suddenly had a concerned look on his face. Demyx was usually a nervous wreck when it came to big assignments. The fact that his blonde companion didn't even have a hint of anxiety on his face made him uneasy. This was the biggest project of the year in the top law school in the whole U.S. He himself was a bit panicky over it. All this worried him deeply about for friend.
Demyx shrugged. "Sure I'm nervous, but I don't feel the need to be all upset about it. I'm all ready and prepared for anything! How hard could it possibly be to interview a real client and then make a fake case from it?" He made a little nervous laugh. "Plus I've been taking these stress/anxiety classes and they've been helping a lot."
Axel shook his head. "You really are unbelievable." He smiled and ruffled Demyx's blonde hair. "Well, I hope everything goes well Dem. Tell me about it tomorrow morning at coffee?" He paused outside his classroom.
"Sure, sure. Sounds like a date." Demyx winked and entered his own classroom.
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Well I hope you liked this, even though it's kinda short. I'm unsure about this story. I don't know what kind of mood this story has. Mind telling me? I'd really appreciate a review telling me things that need to be fixed or compliments or whatever... –nervous laugh- well I bet you can't tell what's going to happen ;p you don't you don't you don't!! –laughs maniacally-
IF YOU READ IT REVIEW IT!
So…fuck those cyber cookies. I'll give you more Zemyx. Maybe I can add so lemon in here later on ; but only if you review.
~Liseyy