(Italics are Kandas thoughts!)
Kanda snickered as he felt cold fingers clench around his arm, despite Allen's bravery on the battlefield he was obviously quite anxious here in the monster of a house. It had long-sense started pouring, against Kanda's predictions of a clear day, and the two exorcists had reluctantly sunk shelter inside the first residence they could find.
Although the exterior of the house seemed rather uninviting amidst its rotting wooden siding and over-grown lawn, the freezing wind biting through their coats urged them through the front door. And after a vigorous battle with the rusted knob they managed to shuffle through the entryway with limited muttered complaints from the samurai.
Sadly, the inside proved not to ease their worried minds in the least. A hallway in front of them stretched into darkness, moonlight distorted by the pounding rain streamed in from two windows adjacent each side of the front entryway, lighting a meager four meters of the passage.
Beside him, Kanda felt Allen shiver slightly as they made their way down the never-ending corridor. So far every room had been bare; no furniture had been present anywhere nor had there been wood to fuel a fire. The house was drafty, with every gust of wind the walls seemed to rattle and groan. At this rate they figured they may freeze to death.
"Clawing at my arm won't help the situation, baka."
Allen averted his gaze toward the taller boy just in time to see a smug smirk flash across Kanda's face. For a second it almost looked like a full smile, but Allen feared that was too much to hope for. Kanda didn't smile, maybe at the youngers misfortune although even then it was an occasional thing.
"It's dark; I don't want to lose you."
As innocent as Allen's statement was, Kanda felt his breathing hitch momentarily. He shook his head, slightly ashamed of the prior action, and cleared his throat.
"Heh, whatever you say."
The moldy floorboards groaned beneath their feet, threatening to give way at any moment. Water dripped down the walls and pooled on the floor, red carpet creating the illusion of the basins seeming to be collections of blood. Black fingernails clawed deeper into Kanda's skin as the moonlight began to fade away until suffocating darkness surrounded the two.
"Kanda, I really don't like this place" Allen murmured between gritted teeth.
Fed up, the older boy turned to glare at Allen, snatching his arm away from the clawed hand, "Can you stop whining for two damn minutes?" he sneered "shut up, or leave me the fuck alone!"
Allen's head dropped forward, his hands clenched into fists by his sides "I care about you Kanda, I really do. Why won't you open up to me?"
"… I don't know, I'm sorry" he sighed, pressing his eyes shut for a moment before peering into sad grey ones.
"You're sorry?" Allen whispered, sounding hurt "I don't want you to be sorry, I just want you to-"
"Care?" Kanda snickered "I know, but I never said I didn't care."
"Well then, why don't you start acting like it? I can't help but think you hate me when all you do is spit insults in my face!"
"Brat, I can't help it when all you do is whine constantly."
Allen pouted, peering up at Kanda through thick eyelashes.
"Tch" Kanda entwined his fingers with Allen's before gently squeezing his hand, "I don't hate you Allen."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The screeching sound of a door flying open sounded from down the hall. Kanda, who had been half-asleep at the time, was suddenly wide awake.
The fire they had managed to light in the partially dilapidated brick fireplace had gone out long ago; grey smoke still rose from the smoldering wood. Allen's still fast asleep though, lucky brat can sleep through anything.
Kanda crept down the hall, Mugen clutched in one hand, the other in a tight fist. He shivered as a gust of wind swept through the thin walls and across his bare shoulders, regretting leaving his coat behind with Allen. The younger boy had been curled up with it, and Kanda couldn't bring himself to wake him.
The corridor, which had been pitch black moments earlier, was abruptly ablaze with the golden glow of candle light. Kanda squinted his eyes, waiting for them to adjust before turning towards the source of the blaze. A single candle hung on the wall of a room he had just passed.
How that lit, I do not want to know.
Gritting his teeth, Kanda stepped into the room. It appeared long and narrow, almost as though it were another hallway. Framed portraits lined the walls; the eyes of the various men in the paintings seemed to glare at the samurai as he trudged past them. Kanda figured they must have been the houses previous occupants back when it had seen better days. Not one of them smiled; in fact the pictures themselves all seemed rather morbid with their dark tones and dull colors. But the detail was impeccable, Kanda would give them that.
He had reached the end of the hall, coming to a stop in front of a tall wall framed with carved wooden detailing. A large portrait hung from it, covering the majority of its surface.
A young boy with shining silver hair stood at the centre of the painting. The boys' eyes were a coal black, leaving a blank expression to cross his pale face. Kanda took a step closer, leaning in to brush his hand over the child's cheek where a dull red scar could be faintly seen.
Kanda felt as though he were in a daze. A fog began swimming through his head, clouding his senses.
"Allen?" Kanda chocked out, watching as thick crimson blood began to pour from a jagged wound in the painted boys' chest. It trickled down the wall, pooling on the floor and crept towards the samurai's boots.
Terror-stricken, Kanda snapped out of the daze, shaking his head and dashing back down the corridor.
Did that really just happen? It must have been an illusion, though it seemed much too real…
Originally I was going to continue this story, but I've decided to end it here and leave the rest to your imagination. Although, if I do get enough reviews asking to write part 2 I will continue it! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!