09/21/07
Well, this lil' thing was made one night when me and my bff S-Chan had a sleep over one night at my house. Then, we both realized 'Hey, we love but we barley have anything on it!! Argh! So then we made a deal that we would sit down right then and there and have a thirty-minute writing session! I t had to be a drabble, 500 words or less, and once the other edited it, we HAD to post it. So, here's to my first fic.
T.T Be gentle.
Disclaimer: Dragon Knights and its wonderful characters are owned by the awesome mangaka Mineko Ohkami, not me.
Mystery P.O.V.!
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My legs burned and sweat soaked my bangs and ran down the back of my neck, but even my screaming body's torment was drowned out by the terrible memories I was imagining, picturing, almost re-living in my fevered mind.
Only one thought came into my mind as I skidded around another corner of the Dragon Castle at a panicked break necked pace.
'I can't let him do this-'
I could still see the way he had stared up at me on our first meeting, wrapped in a concrete shell of smoothly contained terror and hope and independence.
I remembered our second meeting, when even the one who needed the most saving had been my saviour, ignoring what obvious trauma he had clearly just gone through, letting me out through a window without a second thought about the fact that he had just let one of his loathed 'demons' go.
And after that, I remember seeing him sitting in a damp, cold, rat-filled dungeon cell, completely silent. His freezing, starved body didn't move an inch as I – as we passed by, deadened eyes only staring lifelessly at the bloodstains dripping at a hauntingly steady pace onto the filthy, muddy ground.
He was brought to me – to us - for our forth meeting. But, really, it wasn't him. All that was left was this snarling, 'amusing' beast. My comrades would giggle as they played their repulsively sadistic game of 'poke and growl', too busy making bets about who would lose their fingers next and how much their 'plaything' would be beaten for it to notice the thick red liquid streaming down my fingertips as my nails dug into my palms in the far corner, trying my best to deter myself from interference that would not only be suicide, but truly useless,
Our fifth meeting wasn't a meeting; it was only a passing glance we shared as he was carried off by his rouge demon saviour into the starry night.
All the meetings stopped after that, because that when he died: When they brought him back to the castle covered in blood not his own, wide-eyed and stiff in his immovable terror and denial.
I turn my last corner, and drop to my knees, seeing him there, my twice-revived beautiful little love. He's gotten so strong now; with most of the memories gone.
He doesn't know about the first time he died, or what was done to tear his soul into a million tiny shattered pieces.
"Bierrez...?"
'So I step forward, ignoring his foolish little 'helpful' faerie friends and their disgustingly naive spell that would have given him something worse than death.
"Don't do it, Gil..." I say into his soft, purple hair. Why has it gotten wet?
I hug his small, vulnerable, delicate, precious body tightly against my own.
"Don't get your memories back."
I'll protect you
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Please feel free to give constructive criticism. So much for my first fic being a gillam... --;.
But, it's okay, 'cause I love this pairing too. The next one will be a gillam.