First of all, to Princess of Oblivion: No he won't have mad piano skillz cause in the manga he has them because he's possessed by the 14th, and I'm not doing any supernatural stuff (which means he doesn't have to eat tons of food either O_o.) And, maybe he will showing of his acrobatic prowess, I think it's more like Kanda is going to try to maim him and fail... maybe...
Thank you to Princess of Oblivion, sam and Animelover175 for reviewing!!! And the people who put my story on alert!
Disclaimer: I do not own D gray man.
Warning: Violence, swearing, and emoness.
"Moyashi, you never answered my question."
'Okay play dumb, poker face set, go.' I furrowed my eyebrows, and tried to look like I was trying to remember something. "What question was that again? And my name is Allen stupid." My performance only caused him to become more angry, 'Okay I guess playing dumb doesn't work with him.'
His eyes pierced through my facade and he whispered to me softly, "Did you have a bad dream Moyashi? Or, are you embarrassed that you're a bed wetter?"
I was so wound up worrying about having to tell him about my dream that his insults flew completely over my head. "I did dream, but that was it."
He snorted, "Oh really? Are you sure it wasn't so terrifying that you pissed your pants?"
'Okay, now I'm starting to get angry.' "What makes you think I'm a bed wetter? Does it look like I wet myself recently?"
There was a glint in his eyes and it seemed like he was enjoying himself, which only further fueled my rage. "Maybe you wear a diaper." He gave my lap a speculative glance.
I snorted and rolled my eyes at him. "Of course I do" I said sarcastically, "And, before I go to sleep I need someone to read me a bed time story and tuck me in." Although I tried to brush his snide remarks away, my face was flush with embarrassment,
"So if your Mommy doesn't do that, then you whimper like a little girl in your sleep?"
"I don't have a Mother you ass, and I DO NOT SOUND LIKE A LITTLE GIRL!" My face already red with embarrassment was beginning to purple with rage.
A satisfied look crept onto Kanda's face as he prepared to give me the killing blow. "So, Moyashi, did you dream about your Mommy, or maybe you dreamt about the person who gave you that freaky looking scar on your face?"
My entire body stiffened. I stared blankly at Kanda, not knowing what sort of response I could make. He was right, I had dreamed about the man who had given me this scar. There was nothing beautiful about the scar that ran jagged down my left eye. Out of habit I covered my eye with my left hand, and that is when the shit hit the fan.
Not expecting the sudden motion, Kanda grabbed me and yanked off my glove to reveal my deformed arm. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. It was the only time I had seen weakness in the other man, and strangely, I found I liked that expression on his face. His grip on my arm was bone crushing, and it seemed he couldn't think of any new insults to throw at me, that was how completely thrown off by my freakish appearance he was.
I couldn't handle his intense scrutiny anymore, nor his questions, or piercing eyes which seemed to see right into my disgusting soul. It was like I was naked under his eyes, and I couldn't handle it. I was ugly, a person that no one should love, no one should look at me so intensely like this. As my inner loathing boiled over into something more dark and sinister, I tore my arm out of his grasp and walked as fast as I could out of the tent. Not even sparing a look back, I ran as soon as I was outside. Ignoring the stares I ran, ran away from the unanswered questions, and, vainly, I tried to out run my raging thoughts. The tear floods I felt threatening me this afternoon came back with a vengeance, and all I wanted to find was a safe corner to hide in. I slowed down and tried to find a likely spot when, WHAM. Someone had socked me in the stomach and I was hunched over, one hand clutching my stomach, the other a clenched fist in the dirt. I looked up to see who my attacker was, only to see the ringleader.
Trying to put as much distance between us as possible, I didn't bother to get up off the ground before I attempted to scamper away from him, but he grabbed me by my hair before I could get away. He fisted my hair angrily, and before I could react he shoved my face into the packed earth at his feet. He repeatedly pounded my face into the ground. Only after he heard a satisfying crack did he lift up my head to view my face covered in blood, dirt, and tear streaks. I was terrified. It was so intense, my entire body was frozen, stiff. I couldn't even cry out. I wanted to, so badly to scream in pain, but my voice was stuck in my throat, making breathing painful. It was just like the suffocating feeling I had in my dream, but this was so much worse. Blood was dripping painfully out of my nose, and my face was already swelling. There was a dull throbbing pain throughout my face, and I knew that this was just the beginning of a world of pain.
He was talking to me. My fuzzy brain slowly processed his words, and his face. He was furious, his thin mustache, was bristling, and his face was an unhealthy red. He pulled me as close to his face as he could without getting my blood on himself. Through gritted teeth he spat, "I told you that I would just stick you in a cage if you ran, but... I lied." Suddenly his tone became congenial. "Instead I'm going to beat you bloody." Tremors tore through my body. As he felt me shiver his face contorted into a twisted smile, and he began talking again, his volume increasing with every word until by the end he was screaming, his spittle raining on my face. "And after I'm done with you, you are still going to fucking perform, or I'll cut off your precious little feet, and then you are free to try and run away."
He let go of my hair, grabbed my arm and proceeded to drag me to a nearby pole. He shouted for someone to bring him a length of rope and his whip. Reality dawned on me, and I tried to move my sluggish body to do anything, to say something, but before I could open my mouth I was backhanded, effectively silencing me. Hopelessness crashed down on me, and I accepted my fate. At least this would be less painful in comparison to how I felt when I lost Mana. Comforting myself with that thought I envisioned Mana's face in my mind's eye as he was cursing me, hating me. As such I didn't move an inch when my hands were tied tightly around the pole, or flinch when Leverrier gave his whip an experimental crack, so lost in my mind's terrors was I. But, unfortunately, I do not have good enough fortune, nor a traumatizing enough past to not feel the whip as it tore through my skin.
The pain was fresh, hard and real. It didn't subside into a dull ache after the initial blow, it radiated, and a strangled cry escaped my lips when the whip cracked and my skin ripped open only a few inches above my first wound. As the blows kept coming, my cries didn't get louder, they couldn't. The loudest I could manage was a soft wail. I tried thinking of Mana, to remind myself there are more painful things that I have experienced, but I was failing. Instead, I could only repeat over and over in my head frantically, 'just one more and he'll be done.' 'One more and the pain will stop' *crack* 'I promise I will good, just make it stop' *crack* 'this has to be the last one' *crack*.
My ears were ringing from the loud cracks, and I was at my limit. Just as I was about to beg the ringleader to stop, one last blow licked my lower back, and I was promptly untied. The pain was intense, but I was still relieved even though I knew that my pain was only just beginning. Leverrier grabbed my arm again and I was half dragged back to my tent. When we reached the mouth of the tent, he flipped it open and threw me inside. He addressed Kanda, "Bandage him up, he is performing in 2 days," and left the tent without a backwards glance.
Laying in the dirt again I closed my eyes. The hard ground was uncomfortable, but I was so tired, so hurt, I didn't care. I heard a deep voice penetrate into my fading consciousness, and I liked the way it vibrated in my chest, deep and assuring. Just as I was about to pass out from exhaustion a hand was placed on my back. Pain coursing through my body I opened my bleary eyes.
My voice was weak. "Ka-Kanda?"
His eyebrows were furrowed, voice flat. "What happened?"
"He thought I was trying to run away." I returned Kanda's gaze, dreamily.
His face became even more pinched, and he looked away from me. After a long moment of silence he spoke, "Where are you injured?"
Not trusting my mouth I sat up slowly and pointed to my face, lifted up my shirt to show my bruised stomach, and gestured towards my back.
He looked at me sternly. "Are you sure that is everything?"
Confusion was etched across my face, and then I looked down and my hands, which were rubbing my wrists, raw after being tied for so long. I let out a soft "Oh."
Lifting my eyes I saw that Kanda had a worn look on his face, but it quickly changed into a look of irritation. His eyes showed a mixture of annoyance and anger, and I lost myself looking into their depths. As such I didn't see the faint blush on his cheeks when he brusquely said, "Take off your clothes."
Note: So I got my idea about whipping Allen from "The Raging Quiet" by Sherryl Jordan, and "Beloved" by Toni Morrison. Also, it was not my idea to threaten to chop of Allen's feet that would be from George R.R. Martin and from his series "A Song of Ice and Fire." And the last bit was mostly for the rabid fangirls, but I was going to have Allen get naked anyways ;).