Merciless Cult

He's always been cruel, cold and condescending. Allen had known that when he'd begun to have these irrevocable feelings. His ethereal silver eyed gaze lingering on the object of this painful obsession. The cafeteria was bustling like normal and there he was, sitting alone as always. Allen couldn't help himself as he took in the older male's dangerous beauty; from the sleek navy hair that caressed his back and framed his perfectly frightening face, to the delicate shift of muscles under his skin as he moved. Yes, Kanda was infinitely gorgeous to the cursed exorcist.

It was a foolish and unprecedented yearning that brewed within him and it only caused his damaged heart to ache all the more. Kanda was arrogant, and the only thing ultimately precious to him was Mugen. On more than one occasion he'd expressed his hatred for Allen, the naïve, martyring Moyashi. Even so, Allen felt his traitorous heart skip a beat when their eyes met across the room, the dark scowl directed directly at him.

The pessimistic you

The merciless you

And the self loving you,

What are you looking at?

It had to be perfect, had to go by without a hitch. Every mission with Kanda gave Allen chills. They were so different; though their goals were the same their priorities were polar opposites. Even if he tried, he couldn't see through Kanda's plans or understand his logic.

Once again paired for a mission and heading out to the small port town in Ireland, the feelings of distasteful desire continued to grow. Even as every lashing word split another bloody line upon his heart, his gaze lingered ever longer; taking in the sharp and unforgiving features of a true warrior for God.

Finally at their destination, standing atop a ridge overlooking the sea, silver eyes traced the innocence hovering just out of reach – so very close. Kanda too was observing the precariously placed fragment of God's crystal, a calloused hand wrapped around Allen's wrist without a single word of warning as he swung him towards the innocence.

What was one to do when his partner would toss him at the innocence, which was otherwise out of reach, in order to collect it later from his broken body at the bottom of the cliff?

'How foolish that it would only make me love you more,' Allen thought revelling in the blissful contact.

With comparing and getting things in proportions you scream out mad

You wanted this ending to happen

You must be a romanticist

The hand that was to let go did not and pulled Allen back safely to solid ground. Innocence clutched tightly in his trembling fingers. Hope? The rapidly beating organ in his chest threatened to break his ribs with the force, spurred into movement by the all consuming flame threatening to swallow him whole and reduce him to noting but ashes. Yes, that warmth suffusing throughout Allen's body could be nothing else, though, the dark expression he found in those cobalt depths was a painful reminder.

Silver eyes remained locked in that unwavering ocean of storms as the innocence was plucked from his hand, with no more acknowledgment to his still trembling hands and sweaty nervous palms.

If only Allen hadn't looked, if only he had kept his gaze away from the harsh pools of suffocating cobalt, he may have been able to fantasize a little bit longer. The blissful dream falls away with another crack upon its tarnished surface.

But I just remembered that there is no love here

Over and over somewhere begins to break

On the way back home Allen's heart bled, swelling with pain, the shadows of doubt and whispers of insanity dragging his uncertainty to new heights.

'Do you crave pain?' the voice in his mind pressed heavily on his strained thoughts, 'is it penance and salvation you seek in that man?'

His obsession, so very wrong.

'Is your self destruction not enough?' the sinfully tempting voice slithering through the aching recesses of a fading existence, 'is your curse not enough punishment for your transgressions?'

His agony, so very piteous.

'Your innocence is crying boy, can't you hear it?' the taunting voice mocking his misfortune, scraping trenches into his already torn resolve, 'little God forsaken warrior, you no longer have the strength to continue this farce.'

His tears, so very undeserving – such a twisted child just wants to be loved.

Please love me, this blood and the meaning

Please love me, this day and this value

Returning as always, the mask of joy, though rough around the edges, persists as he is greeted by smiles and congratulations of another completed mission. He exchanges pleasantries as he is ushered towards the cafeteria to gorge on the delicious food he can no longer taste.

Kanda has long since left his side, giving the mission report alone as usual. Still, silver eyes drifted to the empty table where the male would always eat his meals.

The carefree nature of the exuberant and all too hypocritical redhead drew his attention away from the empty table to the amethyst eyed female chattering about her past mission, urging Allen to speak of his. Conversation and companionship, they all seemed to crave it with everything they were. All dying on the inside and yet the masks – just like his – do not falter.

Another smile, another laugh, another sacrifice to his merciless God.

Tired, so very tired, Allen apologized to his friends and retired to his room. He hides away from the false joy and the empty words. He hides away from the overflowing desire. He wanted him so badly, needed the steel touch against his skin, aching for a man who could never love him.

'Why such a masochist?' the voice is back, tendrils of smoky decadence dancing on his warping vision, 'do you not hurt enough like this?'

Allen felt the tremors wrack his body as he collapsed, falling to the ground in a shivering heap. Knees curled to his chest and head splitting in pain, he bit back his screams. Silver eyes leaked tears, and his vision bled scarlet as the blood oozed from his long healed scar. The tears thickened, crystal rivers running obsidian.

Gasp for breath

A/N: So this is the first chapter of a strange new story by yours truly. A few months ago I was listening to Withering to Death, an album by Dir en Grey and had a spark of inspiration. Merciless Cult is the first song on the album and the italicized portions of text are the translations of that song as found in the album's insert. Each chapter of this story is going to be surrounding a song in the album; there are fourteen songs so there will be fourteen chapters.

I think I have enough of the story drafted out that there won't be any inconsistencies, even so I don't know how long it'll be until I get the next chapter up – I've been quite busy lately.

Anyway thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed my works.

Comments are welcomed – they make me happy :)