I have to admit I did enjoyed the attention. And when all the boys stopped moaning because they stopped being there, I enjoyed the silence. Slowly, I was growing even more alone in the cold place below the mansion. When the last boy coughed up his insides and collapsed into a heap of blood and vomit, I wasn't there anymore. I didn't get to hear his cries, I didn't get to watch the women do nothing, I didn't get to see his pain, and I enjoyed it.

I'm sure that night I wasn't alone. However, the arms of that wrinkly old man were not comfortable. If someone had connected the bruises on my body, I'm sure the deep purple marks would tell a extravagant story. A story of a beautiful boy, with the face of angel and the eyes of a devil, who went from rags to riches, who vowed for revenge for the death of his fallen brother, who overcame all obstacles to reach his goal and find happiness.

No.

No, that's not it at all.

It started before that, my eyes were cold before that, I hated everyone before that. And everyone hated me too.

Weeks earlier I was sleeping. Sleep never came easily to me, it didn't then, it never did. It never would. That night I was dreaming; I was running through the woods. I was free, the air was fresh, the air was warm, and I whispered that sacred spell to summon my fairy. My fairy. The grin I wore could be matched by nothing. I was caught in a web. It was sticky, if I tried to escape I'd be torn a part. Ripped into pieces, collapse into a puddle of blood just like those boys. Those disgusting boys. The spider in the web, he spoke to me. The yellow eyed spider who was unsoundly bored. As excited as I was to see him, he wasn't excited to see me. He asked me for my wish, we'd make a deal, he would be my fairy until I became his. I'd never reached a conclusion for my wish and this frustrated me.

He laughed at me.

He laughed at how unsure I was.

He laughed at how distraught I became.

If I could have pulled out my hair I would have. If I could have stepped on him I would have. I wanted to rip off all of his spiny legs and pull a part his body and I clenched my teeth and narrowed my eyes.

I'd be back.

Soon my desires would be met.

When I woke up, the boys were around me and the brown haired one next to me was sitting up, leaned over with blood all over his boney legs.

From then, I was alone.

Completely, utterly, irrevocably, alone.

Whenever he caressed me, my flesh burned. Whenever he kissed me, I wanted to peel away the skin he had touched. Whenever he looked at me, with that look in his eyes. The dark eyes of an arrogant man, tainted with lust that would never be quenched. Greedy, inflamed. I wasn't property. And I wanted to scream.

When he was inside me I was in another place. I was thinking of my wish, I was dreaming of leaving this place. But, the madness was growing inside of me. The lunacy was flooding my brain and I realized that this wasn't what I deserved.

Why would anyone do this to me?

I was a boy. I was 12. I hadn't done anything wrong.
Why was I given this life? It would change.

I would change it.

…...

Why was Luka taken from me?

Why was Luka dead?

Why wasn't I?

I felt dead. Sitting in that dark room, being violated by an ancient man, feeling so unclean. So impure. Being free felt so intangible, and it would always be.

Naïve.

Ignorant.

Clever.

If you can't love yourself, you can't love anybody else. And if you hate yourself, you blame everybody else.

When he moaned I had the urge to bite his neck, to rip off the flesh, to watch the red run down his face, to break all of the little wires and tubes that ran through his sagging body. I wanted to taste his warm blood on my face and taste his defeat, taste his sin.

I growled, I was an animal. But, he was asleep. He was gone and I was there standing in front of the window. The white moon light fell on the floor. It flooded the walls.

I had always hated spiders. In this room, they filled every corner. All shapes, sizes, colors. Even their babies explored the cracks in he plaster and wood.

I had always hated spiders.

The air was cold against my pale skin, so deprived of sunlight. I would turn into a bone, just like all of those other boys. I would get sick. I would vomit up my intestines and they would fall out of my mouth, and then my stomach, and my liver, and my lungs, and my heart.

It would all end then. I wouldn't worry about Luka.

I wouldn't be alone.

I wouldn't miss my brother even more everyday.

I wouldn't wonder why I was being forced to live this way.

I wouldn't be so deranged.

I would be dead.

Dead.

Just like Luka.

Would the quest for revenge be futile? I was this way because I was alone, because someone destroyed that village.

It wasn't my fault.

It was theirs.

I didn't deserve to die.

They did.

In the moonlight, in that room full of spiders, with the old man sleeping in the bed softly snoring, I grinned.

"I'm ready." I said to the moonlight, to the cold air, to the bruises on my body, to this living hell.

To the spiders.

Author's note: Not that a lot of you read this, but here's the next chapter~ A bit of a different tone. Alois is in a different mood. (-: