(A/N): I want to ask that you please read this, aswell as all the other A/N's throughout the story, because they'll be important.

This fic has been my new hobby for the past few days. It's come to my attention that my more stories don't quite measure up to my first, so I hope this one can get some more popularity than some of my others.

Summary: This is the story of Tala and his revenge on the man who seduced him and left him with nothing: Kai. Tala shows that to get what he wants, he's willing to stoop to the lowest of points, ignoring all consequences. The other summary I gave is brief and doesn't explain the story, so I included this one to give you an idea.

Warnings: characters OOC (because it's really nothing to do with beyblade), contains violence, rape, character deaths, and yaoi (obviously)

Disclaimer: This is fanfiction, therefore I own none of the characters mentioned in the following chapters.

Right, now here's the important part. The story is sort of like eight one-shots, strung together, and has deliberately been written in the wrong order. I planned to use it for effective means, but I realise that it may just confuse people. However, if you would like to read it in chronological order (which is the reason I had to upload the whole thing at once), here's the order you should read the chapters:

Chapter 2

Chapter 7

Chapter 1

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

So, should you choose to read them in the chronological order, you are about to begin chapter 1, and it should be the third one you're reading. It is completely up to you whether or not to read them in the order I have provided for you.

This chapter is in Tala's POV, but pay attention because the characters will change.

When the trusty knife had completed it's handiwork, there was little left to finish off. It lies in the darkness, only the light of the door behind where I stand surrounds it with a faint glow. The soft beams radiate against the liquid pools on the floor which shine a deep red. There is little to be seen of it beneath this crimson luminosity; a colour which could only remind me of him.

What lies before me can only be described as an 'it', for this heap of blood and flesh is no longer recognisable as a human being. The only way of telling is the mane of ebony which stretches out almost as far as the crimson pool spreads. Beneath the red his face is pale, like mine, with a tinge of yellow from the reflected moonlight. My, my, pale white and deep red, it would seem that's just how he likes them.

My hand quivers slightly with rage, my involuntary actions taking over as they always do. When I get like this, which only happens more often since he began to haunt my mind, I lose the control it would be wise to keep. But with his face permanently painted deep within my brain, I can't sleep easy until I know I've been avenged.

I lay the coated lethal weapon at my side while I stand to gaze at the almost-done deed. Having ripped his clothes clean off him, all that can be seen of his flesh is sections of his face and hands. A reflexive twitching of the leg tells me he's not quite dead. But from looking at him I know he is paralysed in every way. His feet and ears lie beside him along with skin sliced from other body parts I am unable to recognise. In addition, his throat is slit but not quite enough to execute. Below his chest no part of his carcass makes sense as the stomach is merely a bullet-wounded wreck. I watch the pitiful attempts for the nerves to stay alive and wonder if he can feel a thing. Perhaps the pain is slicing through as easily as the blade at my side did when tearing his flesh. But the insignificant sympathetic part of my mind hopes he can at least suffer in tranquility.

Bending low, I whisper to one of the blood-soaked ears lying on the cold concrete floor 'Don't worry little pussy-cat, you'll be at the gates soon'. Taking a closer look at his face, I wipe away some of the crimson liquid. Such a shame for his end to come to soon; he was truly beautiful. Even in this state, with the faint glow softly kissing his features, his splendour is eminent. My thumb gently lifts the lid covering the piercing amber of those eyes I almost fell in love with when they flashed at me with fear.

Peering over his peaceful face, to me it seems a shame to let such beauty go to waste. Looking over my shoulder to ensure that we are alone, I advance, clearing the blood as I near. The scarlet soaks my skin and seeps into my clothes to leave an ever-lasting stain, but it's too late to try and un-do what's done. Without realising, my hand is gripping to his hair as I thrust myself inside him. As I make haste with my rhythmic movements, I faintly wonder if he knows what I am doing, but simultaneously a small part of my mind hopes that he's aware of everything. Using skill which can only be taught by experience, I shove faster until the moment comes where I can finally remove myself, fully satisfied. As I roughly thrust a final time, his face is pushed back into shadow with the force. When I remove myself, his leg ceases to twitch, and I know for certain there is not a trace of life left in it. Now it's just a heap again, all light and life vanished, tainted by my own doing.

The yellow glow has vanished and the crimson blood no longer shines. The sense of human presence disappears, sucking everything surrounding into a cold and unwelcoming shadow. With this accomplishment I can advance in my soiled quest for revenge. I will follow the signs that are left out for me until they lead me to what I want: him. Standing alone in the dark, I make a promise to myself that no amount of human decency will stand in my way until his scarlet eyes are as dim as the pools surrounding me.

I retrieve the victim's clothes and pull from the pocket the piece of information I am looking for. Another piece of the puzzle, which will lead me in his direction. An apartment address, no doubt his, given to help the victim find him again. Perhaps, given the chance, they would make this their home. Merely thinking of it makes my blood begin to boil, as does any thought concerning him with anybody other than myself.

But his plans are being foiled before his very eyes, without him even realising. I vow to take away everything that's good in his conceited existence, and slowly destroy him in the process, until we meet again and I can finally finish what I started. I smile fondly down at the knife by my feet. It's stained the same way I am, for we are partners in this little crime.

I pocket the information and toss back the garments to the ground, picking up my blood-soaked partner. About to walk away, I turn and steal a glance back in the opposite direction, where it will lie for god knows how long and soak up it's own blood. A satisfied smirk spreads on my lips and I can't help letting a low chuckle escape as I see the full extent of my damage.

'One down…'

(A/N): I think my writing is improving personally, and I'm quite proud of this for a first chapter :D But tell me what you think.