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A Thirst for Vengeance
"Billy! Billy!" Sigurd called down the hall to the young man that was now practically running from him. "Billy! Wait!' He only quickened his pace. Sigurd, in a desperate attempt to just talk to the boy called out the first thing that came to his mind. "I know what's bothering you!" Billy stopped like a deer caught in headlights.
"You do?" He stuttered, turning on his heels.
"Yeah," the older man signaled to the room behind him, "come in and we'll talk about it." Billy eyed him skeptically for a few moments. Then, with a cautious look down the hallway nodded his agreement and joined Sigurd in the small lounge.
"You said you wanted to talk to me about something?" Billy sat in his chair, back rigid and eyes wide. Frantic thoughts were coursing through his mind. Did Sigurd know? Was he that obvious?
Would he tell?
"Yeah, you've seemed a bit," Sigurd smirked, this was really an understatement, "distracted as of late."
Billy was studying his shoes, trying desperately to hide the blush that was racing across his cheeks at the mere mention of his little distraction. "And you think you know why?"
" No, actually, I just thought I'd use that to get you in here so that I could talk to you."
"YOU WHAT?"
Sigurd laughed at the incredulous look on the boy's face, his one undamaged eye watering. This was really too funny and he was sure that someday Billy would forgive him for his little 'white lie'. He stopped laughing long enough to take a deep breath, but the look on the face of the youth across from him silenced his merriment altogether. He looked embarrassed, shamed even, and yet his blue eyes glowed with a little spark of hope.
Billy finally had someone to talk to.
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"And you've felt that way about him ever since?" Sigurd was amazed. Billy had hidden his feelings so well that not even the First Mate of the Yggdrasil had known. Until recently.
"Yes." Billy let out a sigh, relieved that he had finally been able to break the impassive mask that had protected and tortured him all these years. He could see an uncomfortable look in his companion's eyes, and a cold fear suddenly froze his heart.
"Do you think I'm disgusting, loving him?" His mask fell back into place as he rose from his chair. "Very well, your brother shall never know of this and you shall never see me again."
"Wait, that's not what I-" Sigurd called out as he saw Billy start to leave. The silver haired boy stopped suddenly, and when he turned around with a sickened look on his face Sigurd knew why.
Bart was standing in the doorway.
An agonized moan escaped form Billy as he saw the object of their conversation listening in. All of his coldness, his calculating and sometimes cruel attitude towards the one he loved, all of this had been in vain. One moment of weakness had exposed his feelings, and the shocked look on Bart's face was enough to convince him that his affection was not returned.
Sigurd groaned and plopped down in his chair when he saw Billy flee, pushing past Bart. Bad timing.
"Sigurd, what was that all about?" Bart was staring down the hallway, shocked that the always- rational Billy Lee Black had fled from the mere sight of him. He quickly appraised himself, running through a checklist of appearances. Braid, check, pants on, check, eye patch, check. "Sigurd," he queried again, realizing that his brother was ignoring him, "what was all that about?"
Sigurd started out of his daze, realizing with a start that what Bart was asking. He hadn't heard? "You mean you didn't… but you were standing there…!"
"It's not like I was eavesdropping or anything!" Bart put a hand on his hip. "I'm really not THAT immature."
"No, I'm not accusing you!" Sigurd was suddenly happy, and the grip that he held on Bart's arm was a bit painful. "This is the perfect opportunity. Run after him Bart, quick!"
"What are you talking about? Run after him? Why?"
"No time to talk about it! JUST RUN!" Bart sprinted out of the room; afraid the he might be slapped if he stayed any longer. As he was running he tried to figure out what had just happened. The look on Billy's face had been enough to break his heart, though he didn't know why an expression would affect him so much. That kid had always been able to take care of himself. But still the image plagued him. The way his silver hair had fallen over his eyes when he hung his head, and the soft from that had caresses those tempting lips…
"Wait a second!" Bart stopped himself, leaving skid marks in the hallway. Where had enticing come from? He shook his head vigorously, trying to rid himself of that traitorous thought. He did NOT like Billy that way. He didn't!
Did he?
He shook his head again, his braid waving frantically in the air, and started to run towards the deck. He just had this feeling that Billy would be there.
Frail looking hands grasped the railing, and drops of sweat fell to the sand below. Billy had run clear across the ship in a matter of seconds and he couldn't keep himself from panting as he shielded his pale blue eyes against the sun. He mentally scolded himself, barely holding back tears. He had ruined everything, letting himself slip in one moment of weakness. It was all gone now, everything he had enjoyed these past few months, and he bitterly admitted to himself that leaving was the only solution. He couldn't face the rejection; he had had enough of that in his life. His father, Prim…. One man could only take so much.
"Billy Lee Black?" Someone drawled, the nonchalant voice sending chills down the gunman's spine. Billy looked up cautiously, almost falling to the deck in surprise at what he saw. Above him loomed the largest airship he had ever seen, covered in slate blue metal and glinting menacingly in the harsh sunlight. "I assume you're Billy Black/" The voice asked again, a little hint of amusement evident. Before Billy could respond, or even move, a silver claw shot from the impressive craft and captured him in its' unrelenting grip. Billy almost fainted at the pressure, feeling sure that he had heard at least one bone crack. The voice laughed maliciously and he let out a cry of pain as the claw's grip tightened.
Bart stopped mid-stride, frozen in place by the scream that still echoed down the empty hallways. It was horrible, full of pain and yet echoing with remorse. "Billy." Bart breathed his pace now heightened by fear and fury. If someone had hurt that kid they would have to answer to him! He finally reached the deck, squinting against the sudden brightness. He gasped at the sight before him.
Billy's feet dangled at least three feet off of the deck, kicking feebly for purchase in the air. A silver claw held him in an impossibly tight grip. The younger boy's face was even more pale than usual, and Bart thought he saw blood leaking out from under the blue cloak the gunmen always wore.
"Bartholomew Fatima," a voice echoed in the desert, and Bart had a feeling that it was coming from the large ship that now overshadowed the Yggdrasil. "You don't know me my boy, but I am about to tell you why this frail child is in my grasp. You, the Crown Prince of Aveh, the one who took the life and hopes of my father, I do this all to gain revenge on you and your own. You think you can destroy a life and not pay? I'll make you pay, you miserable wretch, first through the pain of this boy," the voice stopped, shaking with rage or excitement, Bart couldn't tell, "and then, through his death." A cackle erupted from the airship above.
All Bart could do was stare at Billy's pained expression, at the sweat that trickled down his cheeks. His body felt frozen, numb and unable to move, while his mind raged. Who could possibly hate him so much? Who's life had he destroyed? The prince struggled for answers and as the struggle increased so did his anger. Billy did not deserve this, not at all, and the sight of his blood dripping onto the deck, slowly forming a crimson puddle, nearly drove Bart insane with rage.
"You let him go!" He bellowed.
Laughter again, cruel and almost inhuman.
"Bart," a weak voice interrupted the violent rage in Bart's heart, "Bart, please," He looked up to see Billy's face turned towards his, pain and sorrow written clearly across the delicate features. "Don't be angry with me, I didn't know." His voice broke into a sob.
Suddenly the claw that held the silver haired boy started to retract; wrenching another cry of pain from it's captive. Again that malicious laughter filled Bart's ears, already wringing with Billy's screams.
"No!" He ran after the claw, clambering across the smooth floor to reach Billy before it was too late. "NO!"
He was gone, and as the evil laughter and tortured screams faded away all that Bart was left with was a pool of blood.
A Thirst for Vengeance
"Billy! Billy!" Sigurd called down the hall to the young man that was now practically running from him. "Billy! Wait!' He only quickened his pace. Sigurd, in a desperate attempt to just talk to the boy called out the first thing that came to his mind. "I know what's bothering you!" Billy stopped like a deer caught in headlights.
"You do?" He stuttered, turning on his heels.
"Yeah," the older man signaled to the room behind him, "come in and we'll talk about it." Billy eyed him skeptically for a few moments. Then, with a cautious look down the hallway nodded his agreement and joined Sigurd in the small lounge.
"You said you wanted to talk to me about something?" Billy sat in his chair, back rigid and eyes wide. Frantic thoughts were coursing through his mind. Did Sigurd know? Was he that obvious?
Would he tell?
"Yeah, you've seemed a bit," Sigurd smirked, this was really an understatement, "distracted as of late."
Billy was studying his shoes, trying desperately to hide the blush that was racing across his cheeks at the mere mention of his little distraction. "And you think you know why?"
" No, actually, I just thought I'd use that to get you in here so that I could talk to you."
"YOU WHAT?"
Sigurd laughed at the incredulous look on the boy's face, his one undamaged eye watering. This was really too funny and he was sure that someday Billy would forgive him for his little 'white lie'. He stopped laughing long enough to take a deep breath, but the look on the face of the youth across from him silenced his merriment altogether. He looked embarrassed, shamed even, and yet his blue eyes glowed with a little spark of hope.
Billy finally had someone to talk to.
************************************************************************
"And you've felt that way about him ever since?" Sigurd was amazed. Billy had hidden his feelings so well that not even the First Mate of the Yggdrasil had known. Until recently.
"Yes." Billy let out a sigh, relieved that he had finally been able to break the impassive mask that had protected and tortured him all these years. He could see an uncomfortable look in his companion's eyes, and a cold fear suddenly froze his heart.
"Do you think I'm disgusting, loving him?" His mask fell back into place as he rose from his chair. "Very well, your brother shall never know of this and you shall never see me again."
"Wait, that's not what I-" Sigurd called out as he saw Billy start to leave. The silver haired boy stopped suddenly, and when he turned around with a sickened look on his face Sigurd knew why.
Bart was standing in the doorway.
An agonized moan escaped form Billy as he saw the object of their conversation listening in. All of his coldness, his calculating and sometimes cruel attitude towards the one he loved, all of this had been in vain. One moment of weakness had exposed his feelings, and the shocked look on Bart's face was enough to convince him that his affection was not returned.
Sigurd groaned and plopped down in his chair when he saw Billy flee, pushing past Bart. Bad timing.
"Sigurd, what was that all about?" Bart was staring down the hallway, shocked that the always- rational Billy Lee Black had fled from the mere sight of him. He quickly appraised himself, running through a checklist of appearances. Braid, check, pants on, check, eye patch, check. "Sigurd," he queried again, realizing that his brother was ignoring him, "what was all that about?"
Sigurd started out of his daze, realizing with a start that what Bart was asking. He hadn't heard? "You mean you didn't… but you were standing there…!"
"It's not like I was eavesdropping or anything!" Bart put a hand on his hip. "I'm really not THAT immature."
"No, I'm not accusing you!" Sigurd was suddenly happy, and the grip that he held on Bart's arm was a bit painful. "This is the perfect opportunity. Run after him Bart, quick!"
"What are you talking about? Run after him? Why?"
"No time to talk about it! JUST RUN!" Bart sprinted out of the room; afraid the he might be slapped if he stayed any longer. As he was running he tried to figure out what had just happened. The look on Billy's face had been enough to break his heart, though he didn't know why an expression would affect him so much. That kid had always been able to take care of himself. But still the image plagued him. The way his silver hair had fallen over his eyes when he hung his head, and the soft from that had caresses those tempting lips…
"Wait a second!" Bart stopped himself, leaving skid marks in the hallway. Where had enticing come from? He shook his head vigorously, trying to rid himself of that traitorous thought. He did NOT like Billy that way. He didn't!
Did he?
He shook his head again, his braid waving frantically in the air, and started to run towards the deck. He just had this feeling that Billy would be there.
Frail looking hands grasped the railing, and drops of sweat fell to the sand below. Billy had run clear across the ship in a matter of seconds and he couldn't keep himself from panting as he shielded his pale blue eyes against the sun. He mentally scolded himself, barely holding back tears. He had ruined everything, letting himself slip in one moment of weakness. It was all gone now, everything he had enjoyed these past few months, and he bitterly admitted to himself that leaving was the only solution. He couldn't face the rejection; he had had enough of that in his life. His father, Prim…. One man could only take so much.
"Billy Lee Black?" Someone drawled, the nonchalant voice sending chills down the gunman's spine. Billy looked up cautiously, almost falling to the deck in surprise at what he saw. Above him loomed the largest airship he had ever seen, covered in slate blue metal and glinting menacingly in the harsh sunlight. "I assume you're Billy Black/" The voice asked again, a little hint of amusement evident. Before Billy could respond, or even move, a silver claw shot from the impressive craft and captured him in its' unrelenting grip. Billy almost fainted at the pressure, feeling sure that he had heard at least one bone crack. The voice laughed maliciously and he let out a cry of pain as the claw's grip tightened.
Bart stopped mid-stride, frozen in place by the scream that still echoed down the empty hallways. It was horrible, full of pain and yet echoing with remorse. "Billy." Bart breathed his pace now heightened by fear and fury. If someone had hurt that kid they would have to answer to him! He finally reached the deck, squinting against the sudden brightness. He gasped at the sight before him.
Billy's feet dangled at least three feet off of the deck, kicking feebly for purchase in the air. A silver claw held him in an impossibly tight grip. The younger boy's face was even more pale than usual, and Bart thought he saw blood leaking out from under the blue cloak the gunmen always wore.
"Bartholomew Fatima," a voice echoed in the desert, and Bart had a feeling that it was coming from the large ship that now overshadowed the Yggdrasil. "You don't know me my boy, but I am about to tell you why this frail child is in my grasp. You, the Crown Prince of Aveh, the one who took the life and hopes of my father, I do this all to gain revenge on you and your own. You think you can destroy a life and not pay? I'll make you pay, you miserable wretch, first through the pain of this boy," the voice stopped, shaking with rage or excitement, Bart couldn't tell, "and then, through his death." A cackle erupted from the airship above.
All Bart could do was stare at Billy's pained expression, at the sweat that trickled down his cheeks. His body felt frozen, numb and unable to move, while his mind raged. Who could possibly hate him so much? Who's life had he destroyed? The prince struggled for answers and as the struggle increased so did his anger. Billy did not deserve this, not at all, and the sight of his blood dripping onto the deck, slowly forming a crimson puddle, nearly drove Bart insane with rage.
"You let him go!" He bellowed.
Laughter again, cruel and almost inhuman.
"Bart," a weak voice interrupted the violent rage in Bart's heart, "Bart, please," He looked up to see Billy's face turned towards his, pain and sorrow written clearly across the delicate features. "Don't be angry with me, I didn't know." His voice broke into a sob.
Suddenly the claw that held the silver haired boy started to retract; wrenching another cry of pain from it's captive. Again that malicious laughter filled Bart's ears, already wringing with Billy's screams.
"No!" He ran after the claw, clambering across the smooth floor to reach Billy before it was too late. "NO!"
He was gone, and as the evil laughter and tortured screams faded away all that Bart was left with was a pool of blood.