Warnings: Rape, murder, water sports, fisting, rough sex, torture, just. Assume the worst.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Kingdom Hearts, and I do not own the song `Walkin After Midnight`by Patsy Cline. Which I recommend you listen to during the last three scenes.


Axel likes little boys with blue eyes.

Axel likes little boys with blue eyes- likes them on his floor.

Axel likes little boys with blue eyes-likes them on his floor, likes their mouths open.

Axel likes little boys with blue eyes- likes them on his floor, likes their mouths open, under the tape.

Axel likes little boys with blue eyes- likes them on his floor, likes their mouths open, under the tape, hands tied behind their back.

Axel likes little boys with blue eyes- likes them on his floor, likes their mouths open, under the tape, hands tied behind their back, tears staining their faces like tattoos because they never stop crying.

Axel likes little boys with blue eyes- likes them on his floor, likes their mouths open, under the tape, hands tied behind their back, tears staining their faces like tattoos because they never stop crying, and likes them with their wounds that bleed so so slowly.

Axel likes little boys with blue eyes- likes them on his floor, likes their mouths open, under the tape, hands tied behind their back, tears staining their faces like tattoos because they never stop crying, and likes them with their wounds that bleed so so slowly, so slowly that Axel can suck on them and drag it out and it tastes so good and he comes so hard.


When Axel was a little boy, his uncle beat him around his head a lot so the bruises wouldn't show, since they were under his hair. He also stuck his dick in Axel because his father and mother never checked there, either. Would never bother because they were gone most of the time, out at the bar drinking, leaving their son at home with the killer they hid in their basement.

And Axel was never quiet- he screamed and screamed and sometimes the neighbor boy heard him, but never did anything about it. Axel hated his neighbor. HatedHatedHated. Hated more than his Uncle, who beat him about the head and stuck his dick in Axel because his parents would never see. He hated this neighbor boy because he never did anything.


One day when Axel is six, almost seven, his Uncle sticks his dick in him for hours and hours. Afterwards, Axel goes outside, bleeding and sore. Axel isn't crying but his head is buzzing and all he can think about is how he'd like to hurt his uncle and hurt him and hurt him and hurt him. Axel thinks about how it would feel to make Uncle cry and beg, beg for Axel to stop. Axel wouldn't though, because Uncle never stopped when he begged. Axel would hurt him and beat him, and with a big man like Uncle, it would take hours and hours. Axel doesn't think he'd get tired, because he really wants to hurt Uncle.

Axel goes into the woods with these thoughts and he walks for an hour and he is so, so mad, with all these thoughts of pain and blood, and all he see is red. Red, blood, tears, black, black, black. They are all- all-

Out of the trees comes a sound.

Axel's thoughts stop and all the colors he sees warp into one clear picture, all focused in the direction of that sound. It's a panting sound, deep sharp breathes that sound like air being pressed out of a balloon. It gets louder and louder as he gets closer and closer. He's afraid but excited because he doesn't know what it is but it sounds like it's struggling. It makes Axel's chest feel funny, like something is scratching to get out.

Axel's takes a step forward, and when he sees what is making the noise he stops and stares and he can't decide to be mad or more excited.

It's a cat- a mangy, mangy thing, dirty down to it's very bones, and it has no collar. It's lying on it's side, panting and moaning and it is in pain but there are no wounds showing, no cuts or legs broken. The cat isn't hurt but it's in pain, and that's when Axel realizes the cat is giving birth. There's messy stuff near it's- her- legs, a little blood and clear stuff, and Axel can see something dark and wet coming out.

When he steps closer he accidentally steps on a twig and the cat's head shoots up, her eyes wide and bright. Her lips curl back, exposing sharp and crooked teeth as she hisses at him, the sound sharper than the panting. She tenses all over; her fur stands up, even though she doesn't stand with it. Her tail whips, agitated.

This makes Axel angry for some reason because- because he wasn't going to hurt it, he wasn't going to do anything. If it was hurt, he was- just going to watch it die. He wasn't going to do anything. He wasn't going to hurt it. He was just going to watch it die.

Something clicks inside his head, slides into place inside his body.

"I wasn't going to do anything," Axel mutters. The cat hisses louder. "But since- since you think I will, I will."

Axel steps are wide and long and the cat's hisses gets louder and louder; she tries to back up, pushing it's paws into the ground. It can't do anything because it's smaller and hurting and this makes Axel's anger deeper and darker and that feeling in his chest is getting bigger and brighter and Axel, as he advances on the cat, realizes he's so excited he could burst.

The cat tries to scratch him, but she isn't able to because he has yellow rain boots on and long pants, and she can't move. She can't move, and she's helpless, and Axel is so excited he thinks he might die. And angry, so angry, but more excited, and he can hurt this cat because- it's weaker then him. And it's scared of him, and it can't do anything.

The thing that slid into place in his body leads him, takes his bones and muscles and makes them it's own- Axel lets it, and when he lets it-

Axel's foot lash out and the cat yowls as her head snaps back. He kicks so hard that she drags across the ground, her claws making gashes in the dirt. Axel shivers, the excitement running up and down his spine, the red in his vision bright and beautiful. This time he kicks her stomach, and she takes a sharp intake and lets out a low, pained groan.

Axel's chest feels like it's going to burst open. He kicks and kicks and his one boot is bloody and the cat is silent but still alive, panting, and Axel gives into that feeling controlling him and he takes a step back and jumps.

The bones crunch under his feet and it sounds like stepping on a bag of chips but wetter, a loud crunchy sound that he can hear above all else. The ribs give out easy, like stepping on thin ice. The head is a little harder, but when he brings his heel down that gives, too. The stomach gives easiest of all and when Axel grinds his toes in he can feel the little bumpy life in the cat's stomach flatten and mold to the ground, littler bones with littler sounds.

He starts laughing because it's almost too much, this excitement, this giddy beautiful feeling, and he keeps on stomping and he keeps on grinding and he keeps on killing the cat, laughing, laughing, laughing.

When the excitement dies down the moon is bright in the sky, the edges of pink fading into the horizon. Underneath his feet, the cat is a flat mess, bones sticking out of her skin and a mess of smaller, shapeless creatures spilling out of her battered belly. There is blood on his pants, decorating his boots, and there's even some on his fingers. When he steps back, the cat is a fine, matted, bloody splat on the ground. He shivers again, because that feeling in his chest is big and large and wonderful.

It is ten more minutes before he leaves, and when he leaves-

Well, a big, silly grin won't leave his face.


When Axel is nine, his mother dies in a drunk driving accident and he locks the neighbor boy in the shed with his neck bleeding, because Axel stuck a knife in there. This is the first time Axel kills something besides an animal.

When the neighbor boy's parents find him, Axel has hidden the knife under his Uncle's mattress, where it lays sticky and sweet and Axel wants to lick it and he does, and it's so delicious he makes a lot of noises and licks it almost completely clean. And then he puts it back under the bed, so when the police come they find it there.

Axel laughs and giggles and laughs.

When they ask why his 'D N A' is on the knife, the licked clean knife, he says his Uncle made him hide it and lick it and his Uncle beat him around the head and stuck his dick in him. And Axel cried, because he knew how.

So then they checked his butt, and they found out it was true, so his Uncle went away and the neighbor boy was buried and Axel laughed and giggled and laughed and sucked on his cuts whenever he could because. Because. Blood tasted delicious.


The first time Axel has sex it's with an older boy named Tidus who is blond, and he sticks his dick in him because that's how his Uncle taught him how to. Tidus moans real loud and it startles Axel so much his dick goes soft and Tidus leaves in a huff, face red and splotchy as Axel stares after him, wondering 'what the hell?'. Axel is fifteen when this happens

After that, there are others- mostly blond, for some reason, but he thinks its his kink, just like some of his friends like big tits and small waists. Some of the people he fucks are guys, and that's when his friends call him weird and creepy, but Axel doesn't think it's gross at all. He likes it when he can-

The oddest thing, he thinks, is that he only gets hard when he can- can hurt the person, or when they hurt him. That's why he thinks he likes boys better- because it takes more to push them down, to force them, and it's so much more satisfying when Axel hears them grunt in pain.

Axel likes hurting people.

He's been scratched and bitten until he's bled, and raped in an alley; he hasn't used lube once in his life and he's fucked a girl while she was passed out and on her period. He's been mistaken for a prostitute and taken home where he beat a man until the man forced him out. He has had his face forcefully tattooed, little purple triangles under his eyes, being threatened with a knife if he moved one inch. Each time this has happened- he came so hard and fast and it was so fucking great he felt his bones melt inside of him, felt a giddy sense of excitement, of never wanting it to end. It followed him for days after and sometimes, if he thought about it long enough, all that blood and pain, he'd come without even touching himself.

There has been normal, boring sex- and Axel never, ever enjoys it.

The eighth time he has sex is the beginning of a long and dark road Axel feels like he's been searching for his whole life. At first, he thinks killing the neighbor boy was- was, well, it was fantastic and freeing. But this time- this time-

The eighth time is with an older guy named Cloud, a guy who took him up to his shitty house that was five minutes out of town, in a littler town, after finding Axel in the back alley with come on his shorts and blood in his ass, right after he'd been raped. The eighth time was spent with Cloud's hands tied behind his back, a cock-ball in his pretty little pink mouth. The eighth time, Axel fucks him so hard and fast that he gets excited and sticks his hands tight around the blond's throat and he doesn't even hear the blond's muffled screams as he fucks him and slowly chokes him to death.

By the time he comes the blond is dead and has probably been dead for five minutes and it excites Axel so much he laughs and laughs and laughs and jerks off again, right in the same bed as the corpse.

Afterwards, in his high, he lights Cloud's corpse on fire and then the house and he walks away grinning so hard and so, so happy that he stops in the field below the bridge and jerks off right than and there.

The eighth time he's had sex and the second time he's killed- he is twenty. It is when Axel realizes he likes killing people.


When Axel is twenty-two, two years after he started on that long, dark, wonderful road, he's killed eleven people- nine boys and two girls, and he only kills them in the dark. The dark is comfortable and hugs him tight and presses him into himself, and digs into his bones and replaces his marrow. Axel only kills in the dark because the dark wants him to do so.

After Cloud, after sweet, sweet Cloud, he only kills blondes. Boys and Girls with sweet flaxen hair that stain easy, that are light and soft to touch and who bruise deep dark blue under his fingers. Boys and Girls who whine low in their throat as Axel cuts into them and licks their blood up.

The twelfth is a girl, and her name is Rikku. She's a college girl who drinks too much and takes off her shirt when she's dancing. All the boys and some girls scream for her and Axel watches her with his bright green eyes, serious and thinking of all the ways her flesh would turn slippery and red when he cuts into it, and she looks back. Axel smiles.

Axel kills her in the marsh two miles behind the house, and at first she's giggling because he's eager but then she's screaming against the ground as he pushes her head down and stabs her back over and over with the knife he has and it's messy and it's perfect. His grin is so wide and he's breathing hard and he's not sweating but there's blood everywhere and he comes before she's dead. She shivers, giving up, and he bends down and licks the blood that gathers at the dip of her back, bites the skin until it turns red and breaks like bones.

He throws her in the dirty water and she sinks, legs first; slowly, slowly sinks, mouth filling up with water and eyes slowly disappearing, the water turning red. He wants to jerk off again but doesn't; instead, he burns his clothes and walks back to his house in his boxers, humming, humming, humming.


People come to his door, and they're wearing blue, and they're screaming, and there are guns. Axel gets excited when he sees them, imagines the pretty way they'd spill blood on the walls, perfect pictures of people. Pretty splatters. He sits up and those people jump on him, screaming, and Axel laughs and struggles a little because he kind of wants to see how his pretty blood looks, all splattered against the wall like that.


The walls are really white here.

They're white and Axel wants to paint them, but when he tries to, pushes his brush into the red paint until it bristles and fans out, goes to press it against the wall, a hand stops him, soft on his bicep.

It has been five months since Axel got here, and he only notices the white walls now, and he wishes he noticed them sooner because when he looks at the hand on his arm it is pretty and white, and when he looks at that pretty white hand's owner that owner is pretty, and white, and blond, and Axel's heart thumps deep and dark in his chest.

Roxas is a boy whose very light colored and is supposed to be in the dark. The dark is supposed to swallow him up and keep him there and invade his mind. It's supposed to make him as crazy as Axel. This is what a part of him says, the part that has been buried under white and pills since he came here. The part that doesn't have a heart.

Roxas smiles sweet at him and leads him by the hand back to his easel, which is white and blank. He sits Axel down and his hands curl around Axel's fingers and ease it to the white white blankness. Axel goes hard in his pants and when Roxas looks down he just smiles some more.

"Paint." Roxas says, "Here."

Axel nods and thinks of black and blood, splattered pretty against the walls. It makes him harder and he closes his eyes and hums, hums, thinking mute little thoughts that he hasn't thought in so, so long.

Roxas smiles again and leaves, walks across the great white hall where all the other crazy people sit and spin and run and be crazy. Axel stares after him, and his dick doesn't get soft like it usually does. He almost remembers how it feels like, how he liked to push down pretty white blonds who struggled and screamed. He almost remembers.

When he turns around he dips his brush in black and red and paints his mind, all black and blood, and starts to remember that he likes killing people.


"Here." Roxas says, at the window where they give out pills.

Axel stares at him with his bright green eyes, serious, and Roxas smiles.

"Here." He says again, and pushes the little cup into Axel's hand; his fingers brush Axel's and Axel thinks of pushing him into the dark, pushing him so hard into the ground his pretty little chalk white bones break. They would spit black marrow, just like his own. He takes the cup with these beautiful thoughts in his head and swallows them down. His eyes don't leave the boy in the window. Roxas smiles politely, but under it-

When Axel leaves the window, prompted by the nurse, his mouth tastes of mint and he smiles, smiles, smiles.


Roxas comes to clean his room.

Axel has a single room because he went after a boy named Donald and tried to strangle him. He tried to strangle him because Donald didn't trust Axel enough to come behind the trees during outside time. Donald has white blond hair.

Axel watches Roxas with his half lidded eyes as Roxas does the manual check of his room- running his fingers along the window pane to check if it's locked still, unfolding his bed clothes in case there is a knife or some hidden cutlery in there before replacing them with new ones. When he comes to the bed to check under it, on his knees, Axel's dick is hard. It's surprisingly easy, all these lost feelings coming back.

Axel thinks of Roxas, all bloody and perfect and dark, and he makes a noise and Roxas looks up.

"Watch me." Axel says, breath already coming fast. "Watch me, Roxas."

Roxas smiles, and his eyes are wide and blue and his hair shines so blond in the white light it glows. Axel pushes his pants down and his cock bobs free, hard and thick and hot against his stomach. Roxas makes a noise and Axel wraps his hand around his dick and starts jerking off, rough with his hand wrapped so so tight around it.

"I'm gonna fuck you one day," Axel promises, voice slick and sick and Axel remembers how dark he can be. "Press you down and strap you to the bed and I'mma piss on you, soak you through right to the bone until you're all mine. I'm gonna make you mine, and you're gonna bleed all pretty for me."

Roxas eyes shine bright and he leans forward and lays his head on the bed, watching Axel. His mouth is hanging open and Axel would like to stick his dick in there, in that pretty redness that reminds Axel of blood, but instead he watches Roxas and his eyes, so bright, and he looks like an angel that Axel wants to fuck.

"You're going to like it," Axel says, breathing hard, dick so hard and he's about to burst, burst right open and paint the walls pretty, and all over Roxas, and that's the thought that Axel is going to come, right then and there, but then Roxas opens his mouth and says:

"Yes."

Axel comes laughing because he's never been told yes before.


Roxas says:

"I switch your pills because I want you to be crazy, crazy just for me. I want your craziness, and your darkness, and I want you to fuck me up and carry my skin around with you forever. You can bury my bones in your stomach. We can press together until you're marrow splits with mine. We can be each other's monster in the dark. I switch yours pills because you're mine, and you want me in your darkness."

Roxas doesn't say anything.

Roxas smiles and presses pills into his hands and his blond hair shines in the dark. Roxas pushes close to him whenever he can and the nurses never catch him because they can never see him. Roxas sits in his room and presses his face to the sheets when Axel jerks off

Roxas would look so good in red, painted all pretty, and that's what Axel says:

"You'd look good, all torn open. Press you down into the darkness because that's where you belong, deep down there, deeper than me. You'd look good, Roxas, and when I'm all done with you I'd kill you cuz no one else should, and if they do I'll kill them and they'll be dead, so dead even the devil won't want them. You're mine, and you're gonna be in my darkness forever."

Axel says all this and Roxas smiles.


Axel never asks anyone but he learns about Roxas, because everyone thinks he's too drugged up to do anything and too fucked up to care. But Axel does care. Axel cares so much that it's all he can think about now, this blond boy with these big bright eyes that are just as crazy as his.

Roxas is eighteen. Roxas killed two people when he was thirteen. Roxas killed his brother because he thought his brother was stealing his memories, and had his heart. Roxas killed his sister because she reminded him of his brother. He ate his brother's brain because his memories were in there, and his heart because he had stolen it. He peeled his sister's face off because she looked like his brother. What no one else knows is that Roxas has killed five other people. Boys and Girls who are his friends, who Roxas thought were fake and part of his fake world, created just for him. To keep him in and keep him close. This world disappeared when he killed his brother and sister.

He lived in the institution when he was thirteen, and everyone thought he was better when he turned seventeen because of pills and therapy and teaching him that it's not ok and his brother and sister weren't meant to die. He lives in institutional housing three miles from here. He works at the institution because people don't trust used-to-be crazy people. The institution trusts him because he's better.

This is what other people tell him, boys and girls that are bland and white and nurses that don't think he's listening. People with long white coats that are the kings and queens of crazy town.

Roxas is a good actor. He smiles and is polite and, most of the time, it's like people forget he's even there at all.

Roxas is still missing his memories. And his heart.

Roxas goes to this person he knows, a doctor that makes pills, and Roxas shows him the pills they set him up with and this doctor makes them for Roxas. They are not the pills the institution wants him to take- they taste like mint and are fake, and Roxas sells his pills to people who think they are drugs that will make them happy. He has killed one person, and one person only, who has threatened to kill him for selling him bad drugs. No one has tried threatening him since, and this makes Roxas kind of sad because Roxas wants to kill someone. He hasn't killed someone in so, so long, and he misses his brother and sister so, so much. But he would still kill them.

This is what Roxas tells him with his smiles and his pills and the way he touches Axel's hands, Axel's arms, Axel's neck. This is what Roxas tells him from across the room, talking with the nurse with a pretty little grin. This is what Roxas tells him, curled up on the floor, watching Axel jerk off.

This is what Roxas tells him, and this is why Axel cares.


Axel gets hurt.

He gets hurt because he got to close to the crazy man, Saix, who is very feral and is like a dog who has had the taste of blood. Axel had went up to him and called him a mangy dog, and the last time someone had called Saix a mangy dog Saix had ripped off their head with his bare hands.

Axel only did that because the darkness told him too.

In his room, Axel sweats, and he is strapped to the bed because his wounds are serious, as the doctors say as they twitter around him like birds in the morning. He'll live, they chirp, but he will have scars and he will be strapped to the bed and he will be fed drugs or else he will hurt too much.

Axel can't talk because his jaw is broken, but he wants to say let me be hurt I want to be hurt I love being hurt let me be hurt, please.

Axel is given drugs.

When they leave, those chirping doctors, the drugs thread through his veins like spider webs and take him over and the inside of his body is just one big tree where everything hangs, motionless inside. The drug is one that makes him feel rooted to the spot, and only his eyes can move. This is why, he thinks, he sees three dead people.

Sora smiles, big and wide, and there is no craziness in his smile but there is a big hole in his chest, bloody and perfectly round. Flies buzz around it and if Axel stares long enough he can see maggots crawling around inside. The side of his head is also smashed in, bones stained with blood, and if Axel could see it up close he'd know there would be no brain there. Axel stares at him because he looks like Roxas. He is not as pretty as Roxas, no one could be as pretty as Roxas, but here Sora is. He looks like Roxas, and when he opens his mouth he is talking.

"Roxas _____killer_____________ killed _____________________________________, ____. ___ kill ______________. Roxas killed ______, _____ Xion. Roxas ___ kill you, ____. You _____ die, __________ Roxas ____ you."

Xion has black hair, and no face- she must look like Sora but all Axel can see is bone, pretty bones but not chalk white, because they are stained with blood too. There are bits of skin hanging off her face; she nods solemnly beside him, and she doesn't say anything because her jaw is broken, hanging off her skull.

They are sitting on his bed with him, surrounding him, and Axel can't move because he is strapped down and he is afraid because these ghosts want to kill him. They want to kill him because they love Roxas, and they love him so much they died.

Axel can't scream so he stares desperately at the third ghost, eyes wide and afraid and rimmed with dark green, and the third ghost doesn't look at him; he tidies up the room, checks the windows and the clothes and the desk and the bed, and when the third ghost finally looks over, Roxas smiles.


Axel is on drugs.

Everything is colorless and odorless and soundless. He doesn't notice anything because this is what the drugs the doctors give him do, apparently- they make him bland. He doesn't feel anything, really, just a nice, washed out sense of calm. It would be enjoyable if he could feel anything. As it is, he is strapped down to the bed- he has broken bones and gashes all over his body. For the life of him, Axel can't remember what happened.

A boy comes in and he is in the room for awhile, and Axel does not know what the boy is doing from one second to the next- he keeps on spacing out. One minute, the boy will be in the corner of the room, and the next, he'll be by the window, running his hands along the sill. There's this dull throb inside of his chest, and he thinks it might be emotion buried under all the pills they've given him but he can't be completely sure. He gives up on thinking; it's too much of a process in this state.

The boy comes over and when Axel focuses on his face there is no smile there, just a thin down turned line where his mouth should be. He leans over the bed to check the IVs and straps, and when Axel looks at him the boy gives him a tight smile.

Axel looks away for a second and spaces out again; when he comes too, the boy is hooking a bag on the IV stand and when he looks up at him again the boy gives him a nice, wide smile. Axel smiles back, unsure, and the boy leans forward and brushes a stray hair away from his face. It feels cold; nice. It is the first solid feeling Axel has grasped onto for a long time.

"You'll be better soon," the boy whispers, eyes staring deeply into his; Axel stares back because there is nothing else to do. "And when you do, I'll be there, and you'll be ok."

When the boy leaves, climbing off his bed and exiting the door, Axel's eyes follow him and for the first time in a long time he sees a long shadow following him.


Axel gets better.

Axel gets better, and he can't comprehend how he lived without the pretty dark in his head. There were no colors before; no emotion; no sounds. Now all Axel can see is black and blood and blond, and all he can feel is this torturously slow feeling of giddiness that he has to hide from the nurses. All he can hear is bones breaking, Roxas beautiful beneath his hands.

But Axel is still trapped to the bed.

The straps are tight against his wrists and he gets a wicked pleasure rubbing the soft skin against the edges until it turns red and rough. He doesn't do it too much because the nurses might notice but he wants too; wants to rub until his skin breaks and blood bleeds all over the sheets, stain his gown until all he is is a big red mess.

Roxas comes in, smiling; in the corner of the room the camera is black and dead, and Axel only knows this because Roxas tells him so.

Roxas closes the door and turns around; Roxas tells him it is eleven at night, a full hour before he goes home, but late enough that no attendants or nurses or doctors will check any of the blocks. They think Roxas is in the freezer in the kitchen, cleaning up. But Roxas is in the room with him, and this makes Axel happy.

Roxas crosses the room; he takes the IV out of Axel's wrist so, so carefully; he undoes the straps that keep Axel to the bed; he waits for Axel to sit up, and when he does Roxas smiles.

"I'm better." Axel grins, and Roxas smiles even more.


Roxas is strapped to the bed, and his attendant's shirt is pushed up; his pants are stressed, pushed down to his knees and trapping them. Axel grins between his legs and pushes at his thighs until he is bent in half like paper.

Roxas is not smiling anymore, and this makes Axel happy because that means Roxas is happier.

"Roxas." Axel says, giddy. He says it again because it makes him feel good, that name rolling off his tongue, onto the bitten red skin of Roxas' thighs, stomach, chest. The frail skin around Roxas' hole is reddest of all, stretched hot and angry over Axel's dick. It looks like it hurts, Roxas squeezing his eyes shut, short little sobs coming out of his mouth as Axel fucks him slow but rough, not stopping at all because Roxas is harder then he is. Axel smiles real wide at this and bites the underside of Roxas' knee, sharp. The blond jerks, lets out a stuttering little breath, and Axel laughs dark and low.

"You see Roxas, I'm fucking you." Axel says, and he pushes in all the way inside, into the nice, tight heat. "And you know what? You love it. You want me to fuck you all day and night until I get sick of you and kill you, huh? Wrap my hands around your throat and squeeze."

Roxas makes a strangled sound, and one of Axel's hands press against his throat, light as air; he thrusts in sharp and against his hand Roxas' throat vibrates as another sob runs out, out of his mouth and into Axel's ears. Axel grins and hums, thinking about how he vibrates, too.

Roxas looks up at him, eyes all shiny and bright, and Axel wants to tell him everything.

"I have this dream alot." Axel says gleefully, and Roxas eyes drill up into him. "In this dream, it's so pretty- I cut you open and I crawl inside you, and I stay there forever, nice and warm."

Roxas smiles with his bitten red lips and Axel moves his hand and thumbs his bottom one, makes him open his mouth wide and sick. It reminds Axel of a flower, one that eats living things, and he laughs. "Can you imagine that, Roxy? Forever in your insides, and I'd love it, and you would too- I'd have your heart and you'd have me inside you."

Roxas' dick is stiff against his stomach; Axel's hand goes there next, gripping it so tight that it must hurt but Roxas jerks in his grip, anyway.

"I'd eat your brain to steal your memories, just like your brother did," Axel says, and he starts thrusting harder because the idea is so exciting, living inside someone and making them your very own; Roxas makes a beautiful, strangled sound, and Axel grips his dick harder. "Your bones would be my bed frame, and I'd use your insides like a pillow. I wouldn't eat your heart though- I'd keep it right beside me, and I'd use your pretty bright eyes to see them when I crawl inside you. Wouldn't that be nice, Roxas?"

Roxas' eyes have closed and his hips lift off the bed, trying to push into Axel; this, this isn't right, Axel thinks, and his voice is deliciously dark when he says, "Look at me, Roxas."

Roxas does; he opens his eyes and looks right at Axel and tears are streaming down his face and it's so pretty Axel comes with Roxas looking straight at him, a big, gushing feeling that takes him over and makes him shake. For a full minute he stops and looks at Roxas; presses his hand against the throat and Roxas' breath hitches.

"You're mine, Roxas." Axel says, and his grin is big and silly like he was back in the woods, blood on his yellow rain boots, "Mine."

Roxas-

Roxas grins back.


Axel is better.

Roxas is his.

Axel grins.

So does Roxas.


"How are you doing today, Axel?"

Nurse Gainsborough walks around the room, checking the window sill, running her fingers along the desk's edges, refolding his clothes; Axel doesn't answer her because she isn't Roxas. There is something inside of him saying this is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. She is not Roxas, and she is making Axel angry.

She has brown hair. It would be the very first time he's killed someone with brown hair, but he wants to kill her. Slice her flesh up, rip it apart. Put a big, nice hole in the middle of her chest and maybe lick her insides. He doesn't know if her blood will taste good, but he thinks it will taste ok. Even if she does have brown hair.

When she comes over to his bed he sits up, drawing his knees close to him until he sits Indian style. She smiles up at him, hands running along under the mattress, and her attendant's uniform is pink. Blood wouldn't look as pretty on it, not like it would on Roxas' nice, white uniform.

"Where's Roxas." He says, and his voice is black and hard and all he wants to do is kill her. Make her bloody, break her bones. She pauses at his voice but her smile doesn't leave her face, and when she straightens up Axel's arms have unfolded from where they were crossed across his chest. He stares at her, thinking of the nice loud sounds she would make if he held her down and choked her to death. Her smile wavers.

"Roxas can't come today," She says, and she backs away; Axel wonders if he's faster then her, and how quick it would take him to hold her down and bash her head in before any of the other people could hear her scream. "He's sick."

He smiles, wide and sure; he knows he could take her down, right now. Roxas would like that, he thinks, would like that he doesn't want anyone else but Roxas with him.

She doesn't turn her back as she leaves, and in her eyes Axel sees fear; it makes him happy, how she's afraid. He hardly remembers what it's like, the fear in people's eyes.

"Hey," He says, uncrossing his legs.

She closes the door before he gets off the bed and he laughs so hard he falls onto the floor, writhing and smiling and ecstatic.


The camera is black and dead in the corner again; Roxas is a good boy for turning it off, but he isn't a good boy because he left Axel alone.

"You're lucky you're mine," Axel whispers, hand pressing Roxas' face into the pillow. He can hear the loud breathing of the boy, see the way his ribs are heaving with the need for air. He grins against his ear. "You're lucky you're mine, but I'm mad at you Roxas. You don't get to leave me, ever."

Roxas' back is bleeding where Axel has scratched and bitten it until it opened up. The wounds pump sluggishly and there is blood around Axel's mouth but not on Roxas' pushed up uniform because Axel had licked it all up, had sucked at the gashes until Roxas whined, loud and broken; had tongued the wound open until it hurt, until his tongue could press against his insides, stretching and making it burn.

Axel's hand is bloody, also, where it presses in and out of Roxas' ass; there is a lot of blood, and it is acting as lube, even though Axel hates lube. But Roxas, pretty Roxas, needs to be punished, and the four fingers Axel has inside of him rub, red and perfect, against him.

"Pretty Roxas," Axel hums, and he puts the tip of his thumb in and pushes; Roxas' hips jerk forward and into the pillow he sobs, loud and real. Axel licks the sweat off the back of his neck, buries his face in Roxas' pretty blond hair and smells black cherries. "My pretty, pretty Roxas."

Axel fucks Roxas with his hand and laughs loud when Roxas comes, barely conscious but moaning into the pillow. Axel doesn't move his hand, though; just presses it in and in and in until his whole hands inside and it looks so weird, Roxas taking him all in like that, that Axel laughs into his neck, lifts his other hand off so that the boy can turn his head and breath.

"Good, Roxas, wonderful, so pretty like this." Axel's saying, and he touches the tips of his fingers against Roxas' prostate and rubs hard; Roxas lets out a little hitching sob at that, tenses but pushes back because he knows Axel likes it like that.

"I'm not going to fuck you," Axel says, and slowly he takes his hand out, fingers one by one. "Because you don't deserve it."

Roxas makes a low whimper, eyes closed and face lax. He looks so wonderful like this, half dead. Axel remembers thinking of marking up this pretty boy in the beginning, trying to paint the walls red and black, just like in his head. Remembers when Roxas said yes, as if it were in the most natural thing in the world.

Something clicks inside Axel's head as he remembers that very first time, Roxas' hair soft on his sheets. The way Roxas looked at him and what Axel had said.

Axel had been ignoring the urge until now, the fullness of his bladder because fucking Roxas with his hands and ripping him apart with his mouth had been consuming, had made him focus on everything now. But now that he feels it, he's almost ready to burst open.

"But," Axel says, and his voice is so giddy that Roxas' eyes open, half mast and foggy. "I'm going to give you something special."

He takes his one hand, the one that hasn't been inside Roxas, and pushes the soft material of his pants down. Roxas' eyes open further at this, confused and foggy still, a little pleading. Axel laughs.

"No, I said I'm not gunna fuck you."

Roxas' eyes look even more confused, staring up at him, and Axel takes his dick in one hand, aims it towards the back full of bleeding cuts and licked open wounds. Thinks of it, soaking Roxas' bones. Thinks of the infection later, angry red lesions full of sticky white pus. The way they'll hurt, all open like that. Because of Axel.

"Watch me, Roxas."

And Roxas does as Axel lets loose, watches as the golden arc of piss hits his ass. He makes this little noise of ecstasy like in those shampoo commercials Axel used to see when he was young, the woman screaming in the shower. His eyes close again.

Axel watches, too, as it slides down his back, over the wounds, a little yellow river getting fatter by the second as Axel pisses on him and soaks him through. The liquid follows the swells and dips of his skin, collect in the open-wide lesions that are red and sticky with blood until it wets the uniform. The fabric collects it all until his shirt is soggy and heavy and yellow with Axel's piss, and what it doesn't catch falls to the bed and spreads all over it until Roxas is kneeling in a puddle of Axel's urine. Soaked right through.

Roxas' eyes close as Axel finishes, strokes his dick as it gets hard because Roxas is such a good boy, laid out like that. And he's hard again, Axel notices, so Axel pushes him down, flips him over so Roxas is facing him.

"Good boy," Axel says, jerking off; he doesn't take his eyes off Roxas, all sodden and laid out on his bed, just for him, and Roxas doesn't take his eyes off Axel because he sees something no one else can.

When Axel comes, he comes all over Roxas while Roxas lies there, watching. And when they lie together afterwards, pressed intimately together in Axel's mess, there are no heartbeats and there are no footsteps- just the sound of Axel, whispering in Roxas' ear.


One day, the darkness says:

kill him killhim kill him and eat his flesh and consume his heart and break his bones, they are rotten bury them; keep them right beside you sleep with them keep his heart withyours and youwillbehis and he will be yours forever. keephis eyes as souvenirs rip out everything and devour them yoursyoursyours his memories lie with you and he will be your prayers and you, you will be his god

Axel- Axel laughs and cries and feels terrible inside, like his insides have turned into bile, but the darkness is right; he will kill Roxas and make him his.

The darkness is always right.


The camera is out, but Roxas isn't here.

The camera is only out because Axel smashed it, grabbed it and tugged it down until it ripped out of the socket. He ripped it out like he would any other heart, any other organ, and it feels warm in his palm as if it was alive. He drops it to the ground and smashes it, grinds it into the floor.

When Axel reaches the door, it is unlocked because Roxas has left it open. Roxas always leaves it open. Axel thinks he must have been waiting for this moment, for the moment where Axel would escape and come for him.

Axel also knows there are people coming for him. They want to push him down and keep him there, nice and emotionless and horribly ignorant of the beauty involved in killing. So Axel hurries because he doesn't want to be any of those things, rushes through the halls on bare feet and loose red scrubs and thinks roxasroxasroxas as the darkness leads him through.

There is a clatter in front of him and when the white fabric flushes bright in the darkness, Axel grins at the stunned face of that girl, the one who had been in his room. The brunette. Ms. Gainsborough.

"Oh," she says, and she starts backing up, has a hand on the doorknob from the door she has come from. She looks so scared, so frightened, delicious, and Axel gets hard and is pleasantly surprised at the fact. She has brown hair. But. She wasn't Roxas.

Axel smiles at her.

She lets out a small sound- a moan and a hitched breath, the sound of quieted fear, and bolts into the room she's come from. The lock doesn't click. Axel thinks, the darkness has broken the lock. Axel thinks, Roxas. But the darkness says yes, go find him.

Axel walks towards the door; places his hand on the knob and pushes the wood in with his shoulder, against the force of the girl pressed against the door, and slowly opens it into a closed room.

A pretty room; nice and orderly with a desk, chairs, plants, books. But all Axel sees is the window in the corner, covered by blinds, and the scared, whimpering girl on the floor in front of him. He closes the door and grins, wide and hard.

Axel steps on her neck; presses down and down and down until the girl is scrabbling at his pants leg, making broken little noises that make Axel want to kill her, hold her legs open and fuck her until she's begging for death. But, when the scrabbling stops and the girl's eyes close, breath slowing, the darkness says- no.

So he leaves the girl, and when Axel looks up the drapes rustle in an open breeze.

Yes, says the darkness, so Axel goes.


The air feels good; it's delicious, and wonderful, and Axel breathes it in like the smell of blood, musty and perfect, but- this is delicious, good, wonderful. Wonderful.

In the black of night Axel follows and goes where he is told, along the barbed wire fence and hands running against the brick walls. They speak to him; tell him to go here, here, here, and again, here. Here, Axel whispers to the dark and that is when he sees the shadows seeping into this one little place in the dirt. He bends down and brushes his hands against it. It reminds him of digging graves for little animals.

Once all the dirt is brushed there is a cellar door, and once it is opened there is a darkness that bleeds out and sucks Axel in. So Axel goes, his hands shaking with excitement and his breath coming short, being taken away from him. Behind him the door closes.

Axel is not afraid. There is nothing to be afraid of besides the aching feeling in his chest, the thought of Roxas smiling at him from where Axel will hold him down and press him close, press him close until he dies of want. This fear makes him shiver with so much want it rattles his very bones.

His fingers scrape against the wall as he descends; the smell of blood and rust is strong and strong and stronger. Axel shakes.

And he stumbles as his feet take the last step and find no more because the darkness is so complete and natural in it's presence and inside of it Axel is close to nothing. He is Nobody.

This is what Axel thinks as he stumbles and falls and behind him there is the touch of metal against his neck, and then: blackness.


"I go out walking after midnight out in the moonlight just like we used to do I'm always walking after midnight searching for you…"

There's a woman singing to him. For a second, it's his mother, returning home from the bar with his father; in another, it's one of the very first girls he killed, a singer in a small town bar. In another, it's no one.

The song skips and there's a noise to his left. A pretty noise, something to be held close and eaten. It's Roxas' noise, and this is what makes Axel's eyes open.

There is a little lamp in the corner shining brightly in the darkness and it makes Axel's eyes sting with it, makes him more conscious of the cool air against his bare skin and the stiffness of his body against the seat he sits in. It makes him aware of his want, and all he wants is the dark and, maybe, Roxas' eyes flashing at him out of the black. Nothing else. He needs nothing else in this world but those two things, darkness and those pretty eyes.

It surprises him at any rate, the first thing he says; it slips out of his mouth, abandoned to the light.

"Turn it off."

And then he wonders- why am I tied up? Why is Roxas by the light? Why is there a woman singing? Why can I not kill?

"No." Roxas says, and it makes his hackles rise, this blatant denial of what should be his. The fear of something- what was it before, the fear of pressing Roxas close?- is something new. Something twisted and horrible and sick, rising up in his gut like so many thick waves of darkness. It is the fear, he realizes, of not being in control. It is the fear all of his victims' have ever felt, the knowledge of what is coming closer and closer.

It is death, the dark whispers. And he shall eat you whole.

"What-"

"No." Roxas says; from behind him, where Axel cannot see, the song starts up again. It sounds old and scratchy, like a record player. It is, Axel realizes, Patsy Cline. Patsy Cline is going to sing him to his death.

"Maybe he's crying for me…"

In a sudden rush of fear Axel pulls at his arms and rocks back in his chair, his limbs straining against the black tape. His voice will not come and from his mouth there comes a broken moan and harsh breathing, sounds he's grown so fond of over the years.

"Roxas." Axel groans, guttural and loud. He knows, he knows, he knows that Roxas wouldn't pick a place where he could be heard. He would pick a place, a nice place, a place that he could scream and scream and scream in until his throat was bloody and raw and still, no one would come to save him. Not even the dark, he fears, and somewhere in the back of his mind he hears a chuckle. I would never save you.

"This is my favorite place." Roxas says; Axel turns his head and sees the golden hair, sees the flash of Roxas' eyes as he goes to a table Axel had failed to notice before. It's a rickety old thing that has tons and tons of knives on it, all laid out pretty and perfect and he would admire them but the fear in his chest is making it hard to breath.

"I come here to think and bath in blood, to eat and to-" And Roxas stops here. It is the most he's ever said aloud and in the back of his mind Axel cherishes that, puts it where his heart would lay.

"Anyway," Roxas continues, and when he turns around there are two knives in his hand, two beautiful ornate knives that are red and black and white and clean as steel can be. It makes Axel shiver, those knives, and he cannot help but stare at them as Roxas comes closer and closer. Roxas doesn't smile; instead, his mouth stays flat and soft and it's in his eyes that Axel sees the excitement, the love, the power he would see in his own eyes if their positions were reversed.

Roxas comes closer and closer and Axel can only focus on those knives and those eyes and when Roxas sits on his lap, slides into place like he belongs there and has been waiting forever to belong, Axel's breath is fast and hard and painful in his chest, filled with fear and sorrow.

"Axel," Roxas whispers and lowers his eyes, brushes his lips against Axel's cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead; they brush over every part of Axel's face until they are pressed to his mouth but barely. In this space Roxas speaks softly, blindingly perfect in everyway and because of it Axel relaxes. There is no reason to relax.

"I want you all for myself." Roxas murmurs, presses close. He can feel the sharp coolness of one blade against his stomach; the other has disappeared somewhere he cannot see, and it is that knowledge that makes Axel shiver against him. "I want you and no one else. You can be mine forever. You'd like that, right?"

And in him there is that dearness again that swells up inside him and replaces the suffocation of fear with love. It is in it there is just the sudden unexplainable feeling of happiness. He can be Roxas'. He can be Roxas' forever.

"Yes." Axel breathes. "Yes."

Roxas smiles.

"You'll always be alive in my memory." He says, as if in consolation or gratitude.

And this?

This makes him laugh, loud and happy, and he continues to laugh until Roxas slides the knife between his ribs in one clean push that makes his breath hitch; he continues to laugh as Roxas cuts him open and buries himself inside; he continues to laugh until his last breath disappears into the shadows; and he continues to laugh until he is Roxas' and always Roxas'.

"And as the skies turn gloomy night winds whisper to me I'm lonesome as I can be…"


"Heeeey beautiful."

The man is obviously drunk. He stinks of alcohol and excitement, sweat dripping off of him disgustingly like blood. He is a pile of filth, something of an accomplishment in this small bar. Roxas wants nothing to do with him, and he turns around to say so, politely. Because Roxas is polite. He is supposed to be, just like Sora.

When he turns around there is vibrant red hair and for a second all he can see is that. Then, the green eyes, the pale skin, and even- even the tattoos, cutting under his eyes.

"Hello." Roxas says, and he sounds breathless and shocked just like he thinks he should sound like. He lets a small smile curve his lips, a thing that makes men want. Roxas would know- he's used it before.

The redhead smiles, flirtatious and so much more normal than Axel could ever be. This man already makes him sick, but he thinks of the ways he can lay him down on the table and eat his flesh from his bones. Delicious, delicious, blood and guts something inside him hums.

"What are you doing? Late for a pretty thing like you."

And Roxas- Roxas smiles and thinks of Axel. Perfect Axel, all nice and snug inside his chest. Axel, with his beautiful red heart and his beautiful, beautiful soul.

Roxas thinks of Axel, and all the things the man has done to him.

"Then you better take me home, shouldn't you?"