OUT OF LUCK

The tale of Tsutana Kichirou

WARNING:

This chapter is NOT SUITABLE for minors.

Beware of mature content!

Chapter 1: Trauma

He couldn't see a thing. Not that it was dark around him, he just couldn't see. Feeling the rough fabric of some stinking piece of clothing over his eyes, he'd take a wild guess and say that he was blindfolded. He couldn't move also. He tried. It didn't work. His wrists were tied together behind his back, while his feet lay, held by what felt like a thick rope, in a weird angle beneath his body. He felt awfully tired and exhausted. Every inch of his body was hurting.

How did he get here? What had happened to him?

Suddenly there were footsteps. Loud and booming. Dangerous. He held his breath in anticipation. Something hard hit his thigh. He swallowed the urge to wince. He had to stay strong. Show no emotions. All his life that had been his mantra and all his life it had helped him survive. Yet somehow he had the feeling that it won't save him this time. This time was different. This time… he was screwed.

He could feel the presence of another person next to him. He could hear them breathe. When there was a loud scraping on the floor, he couldn't help it. He flinched.

"Oi, so you are awake, huh, kid?" A booming, male voice echoed through the room. It didn't sound nice. Not nice at all. It was deep and dangerous and had the edge of a smirk in it. He could tell. But that wasn't helping. Neither was the fact that he had never heard that voice before.

That was not a good thing.

"Do you know why you're here, kid?" the voice asked him.

Was he supposed to answer that? Something hard hit his legs again. It hurt. He tried to ignore it. When he didn't answer after another moment, he felt two hands on his waist that lightly picked him up. He felt his legs unfold beneath him as he was lifted into the air. And he felt another rib break when he was thrown through the room against a wall and landed hard on his back. Pain rushed through him and he couldn't help but moan.

He tasted blood.

"What a lovely voice you have… use it some more, okay?" Something heavy stomped onto his chest and pushed him down. The pain intensified. "Come on, don't be shy, use your voice!"

He couldn't breathe. The weight upon his chest seemed to make his lungs burst and break even more ribs. Yet he didn't make another sound.

"So you're stubborn, huh? Well, I heard that much about you, kid" the voice boomed over him. "You know I was really lucky to catch you. You weren't easy to find. Quite the talent, huh?"

When the weight upon his chest was being lifted, he asked quietly, yet trying to sound as tough as possible – it didn't sound tough at all when he spoke: "Who are you? And what do you want from me?" He sounded like a little child. And hated himself for that.

"Oh, he can speak!" Something grabbed his jaw. Fingers. "Well, kid, what do you think I'll do to you? I think you pretty well know why you're here and what I want from you. Come on, you can't be that stupid. Unless it's true that pretty boys aren't that smart."

His jaw was being squeezed and he had to swallow the urge to growl.

"And you know, if I told you my name, I would have to kill you." An icy laughter rang in his ears. "But you know what? That's exactly what I intend to do. So I might as well tell you everything you want to know before I chop you to pieces, kid."

Chop me to pieces? That strange man intended to kill him? Now he knew for sure that he was screwed. Big time. The hand gripping his chin let go and pushed his head against the hard floor. A wave of nausea rushed through him. His head began to spin. Oh why am I here?

He flinched badly when he suddenly felt a new weight on him. Not on his chest, but on his hip and legs. As if someone had sat down right on top of him. He actually held his breath in shock. Show no emotions! Show no emotions! He felt fingers on his face. Then a sharp pain when the blindfold was being ripped off.

He blinked.

The first thing he saw was not the brightly lit room, nor the stone walls or the blood they were covered in. The first thing he saw were the icy blue eyes of the man, who was sitting astride his body's middle region. Show no emotion… show no… He couldn't help it. The way the man was staring at him caused him goosebumps. And a feeling inside his stomach that made everything worse.

Vulnerability.

The man smirked down at him. "Is that fear I see in those pretty eyes of yours?"

He tried his best to regain his composure. The fact that the weird black-haired man placed his hands on his chest and leaned closer to him wasn't really helping. He swallowed dryly.

"So, let me introduce myself now" the man then said in that low voice of his that made everything worse. "My name is Choukai Misashi, but you can also call me The Chopper."

The Chopper? That didn't sound good. And as if the name alone wasn't bad enough, he suddenly saw a sharp knife in one of the man's hands. While still looking at him with these damn cold eyes, the man named the Chopper lowered the blade. He couldn't watch. His heart was racing. Now was the perfect moment to panic, wasn't it? It was that moment that he realized that even though he hadn't had the best of lives, he still didn't want to die yet.

And so he pressed his eyes shut.

The ripping of fabric rang in his ears. But only when he felt cold fingers upon his skin, he jerked his eyes open again. WHAT THE…? His jaw dropped in disgust when he realized that the man with the knife had cut open his shirt. Seriously? What kind of sicko was this guy? And now he was running his damn hands over his bare chest! This was… sick…

"You're excited, huh, kid?" the other man said with a smirk while pressing his palm upon his chest as if feeling for his heartbeat. "That's a nice sound… I'd say enjoy it until you can."

Suddenly panic rose. It made him shiver from deep within. It wasn't even a numbness, it was a cold that spread through his entire body. The realization that this was the end hit him with full force. Despair made him choke on his own breath. I don't want to die… I don't want to die like this…

And to make things worse, he watched helplessly how the man lifted the knife once again and…

He felt it before he saw it. The cold blade that ran almost smoothly through his skin, through his cells, through his muscles, deep into him. At first it was cold, then heat spread and heat turned into an excruciating burning that made his vision blur. He coughed in pain when the knife was being pulled out of his stomach again.

"You'll die today, kid" he heard the man whisper somewhere close to his ear. "And I'll be your murderer. You will bleed for what you have done."

What he has done? There was a short moment where he recalled everything he had ever done wrong in his life. There was a lot, but nothing, absolutely nothing justified his death. It seemed that he had just ran out of luck entirely, meeting the wrong person at the wrong time at the wrong place. Sometimes, everything came together like that. Sometimes, life could be a real bitch.

And there he was, still conscious enough to feel the burning pain in his stomach, while a tiny voice in the back of his head was yelling: Show no emotion! Don't give up! Yet another voice, much more prominent than the other, slyly whispered to him: Forget it. There's no escaping this crazy guy. He'll torture you to death. You know that! So just give in…

And as he was considering which voice to follow, he felt himself being lifted up. The strain on his stomach made the wound hurt even more. He felt blood running down his abdomen. Opening his eyes groggily, he saw how he was pushed towards a table. As his hands were bound behind his back he had no chance to prevent tumbling against the wooden edge. His vision went black for a moment when his stomach hit the table. The pain rushed through every nerve and he couldn't help but yelp like a beaten dog. He felt so pathetic…

His face hit the table, where he was lying on his thumping stomach, staring at the concrete wall in front of him. He had no idea what was going on behind him. Then he felt how his feet were being untied. Why would he do that? When he felt two hands moving towards his waistband, it dawned on him.

He wasn't naïve. He knew what evil existed in the world. He had just never experienced it firsthand.

And this realization of what was about to happen was like a hammer to the head. That was the last straw. That was when his panic turned into hysteria. His lungs were already aching from hyperventilating, his heart was beating so fast in his chest that it felt as if it would jump out and through the table at any second. He bit his lip in utter desperation when he felt his pants sliding to the ground.

Oh dear God!

He has never been a religious type of person, but in this very moment, he would have done anything to prevent it from happening. Anything!

"Please!" Even begging. His voice sounded hoarse and way too high, but he didn't care.

"What was that?" There was a face next to his, cheek pressed against cheek, while a heavy body was pinning him to the table. "Did you say something?"

He swallowed. Not only his fear, but also his pride. "Pl-please don't do… that" he muttered.

"Do what?" came the reply and with that there was a new pain that made him cry out in shock and distress. The man leaned back a little and grabbed his hair brutally, while his other hand was basically glued to his rear. Seriously. He did not want to think about what exactly that guy was doing. He has never been a fan of details!

And even though it was very difficult to ignore the finger inside him, he gritted his teeth when the man turned his head forcefully around to look at him. Their eyes met. Those icy blue eyes… he would definitely never forget those. If he ever was to escape from this humiliating torture…

"Say, kid" the man suddenly addressed him. "Do you have anything to say other than begging for your life like a pathetic little boy?"

He swallowed when the man's finger's movement made a wave of pain run through his nervous system. "Why… why are you doing this to me?"

"I was paid, kid" the man replied and abruptly let go of his hair which caused his head to fall onto the table with a smack. The pain epicenter moved for a moment. "You did something wrong to somebody and this somebody was not amused and asked me to get rid of you. And when that somebody pays the right amount of money, I will do anything. And when there's the bonus of beating up a pretty little boy like yourself, well, then I will also do it with a smile."

What a sick bastard! He couldn't even describe the turmoil within him. He felt so many things at once, so many emotions, so much physical pain, so much confusion and fear and panic, it all led to the conclusion that this was the end. There was no escaping the hands of this crazy psycho killer.

Literally.

He gasped when he felt another wave of pain mixed with something else rush through him. The gasp turned into a dry cough when the man suddenly let go of him. Not without slapping his butt cheek brutally. Oh please let this end soon…

"So, kid" he heard his voice from a distance now. "Any more questions before we come to the fun part?"

"What did I do?" he whispered hoarsely, staring helplessly at the concrete wall behind the table. Even though his feet were untied now, he had absolutely no strength to move them. It wouldn't do anything anyway.

"What you did?" The man was standing behind him again. "Well, let's just say you pissed off the wrong person."

"But what exactly did I do?"

"You really don't remember?" There was an icy edge to the other man's voice. And something like a smirk. He also heard the rustling of clothes. "Maybe you'll remember when I pound some sense into you!"

It wasn't the wording that made him actually scream in anguish, it was the fulfillment of those words. In that moment he wished for another stab in the stomach, maybe some cuts or punches to the face or anything for that matter, anything but the excruciating pain and the pressure that seemed to rip his entire body apart. He had never felt this vulnerable, this helpless, this… pained. There were stars dancing in front of his vision, stars and absolute darkness and some spots of red. Red like blood…

He tried to bit his lip and just wait until it was over, but it wasn't. It kept going, the man kept going, true to his words, so true to his words. This bastard… The feeling was too intense to digest. It made him scream and moan and actually cry. He could feel hot tears streaming down his face, while he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to bury his face in the plain surface of the table. When he was about to pass out, he was so close, so close to deliverance where it would all be over… he felt his hair being gripped forcefully. His head was lifted off the table and an arm sneaked around his chest and actually held him upright.

Then there was a face next to his. And a voice. Hissing into his ear. "Don't you dare faint on me, kid. That was not the plan!" The man's voice sounded rougher than before, very animalistic. And by the way he was moving his body against his, he felt like the wildest animal on the planet. And he, the victim, was the prey, not only cornered, but at the mercy of a crazy person. Who wouldn't even allow him to faint.

This was hell. Absolute hell.

And he had no idea how he had gotten here.

Maybe it had been a mistake? Maybe the Chopper was hired to torture and kill someone else? Maybe he could still walk out of this, if he realized his mistake. Really? Are you that naïve? By the way, there won't be much walking in the next hours or days anyway… Oh the images… As if feeling it wasn't enough. But wasn't it worth a try? Didn't he have to try everything to get out of this hell? He couldn't just give in that easily! He wasn't a quitter, he never has been!

"Hey…" he groaned in between the loud moans of his violator. "Wait… please… just a…" The pain was never subsiding, it actually got worse the more movement was rippling through him. He kept crying out and he didn't care what noises the man made him do.

"What?" the man grumbled into his ear as he pulled his body into an almost standing position. Oh dear God… it could get even worse… The stars were back, dancing nauseatingly in front of his inner eye.

The new position made speaking even harder than before. "Are… are you sure… that…"

Suddenly, the man stopped moving. The pain was still thumping through his body. And the pressure inside him was unbearable, even more so when it didn't move. He coughed.

"Speak up, kid!" the voice boomed into his ear.

He was still coughing when he felt a hand grabbing his jaw. There was pure anger on the other man's face. The eyes were mere slits, his eyebrows pulled together violently, and the growl was almost vibrating off his lips.

He looked up, feeling yet again like a helpless child. He probably looked like it too. "Are… are you sure you have the right one to get rid of?"

Suddenly the anger was gone and laughter replaced it. "Are you freaking serious, kid?"

He blinked.

"And you're asking this now?" The booming laughter echoed painfully in his ears. "You're some tough kid, honestly. But I have to disappoint you, unless you are not Tsutana Kichirou."

And with that, just like that, everything fell apart. And he couldn't even hide it. Misery washed over him, misery and fear and pain and despair. There was no turning back. His last hope collided onto him. Brutally. He was done for.

"I've made my homework, kid." The man behind him laughed darkly, before he began moving again, stressing every word he said with a deep thrust that made Kichirou cry out every time. "Never, ever tell me that I made a mistake ever again!"

Slowly, he became numb. It all ends today… He felt cold as the man pushed his torso back onto the table, as his hands gripped his hips brutally, as he kept pounding into him like he had said what felt like a very long time ago, as the movements got faster, as the pain turned into an unpleasant coldness, as he closed his eyes and waited.

He had no idea for how long this continued. He couldn't feel anything anymore.

When the man let out an animalistic groan, pushing one last time with full force into him, the darkness before his eyes turned into whiteness. His heart was racing inside his chest, while his lungs were yearning for air. And suddenly the pressure was gone. The pain remained. It echoed like a throbbing soreness through his body. He didn't even notice how he was pushed off the table and landed on his side. He couldn't feel anything but the throbbing pain…

Why ain't I dead yet?

Darkness fell. But it wasn't over.

Images flashed before his eyes, like lightning in a thunder storm. It was as if he was seeing his own body from a distance. Seeing the other man grabbing his hair, pulling him after him over the floor. He saw his naked self on the cold floor, beaten, hurt, violated, on the verge of death. He couldn't feel anymore.

Just witness what was happening to his motionless body. The man was back and he had a knife. Darkness washed over him like a cloud's shadow on a field. When the light came back, he saw the knife inside his stomach. Blood was trickling down his abdomen, gathering in a pile beneath him. The darkness came again, then the light, and another deep cut had hit him.

It kept on going. Darkness, light, blood. Darkness, light, blood.

He felt himself floating above the gruesome scene. Like a sakura petal. An awfully stained sakura petal that had been ripped into tiny little pieces.

Please. Let me die now.

A/N: Oh dear. First chapter starts with a major blow - oh excuse my language. I mean: Poor Kichirou. This is his trauma. And this trauma will shape the future events. It was necessary, I'm sorry. I suffered the most while writing this.

Let me ensure you: It will not continue like this! Let's see the first chapter as the tip of the mountain. You can only go down from there.

NEXT: Tranquility. (See, it's getting better! Just wait!)