Still stuck on writer's block.
This story is going to be full of psychological torture and stuff like that. I just felt the need to warn you guys...
Kayla - Oh my, you really think so? Thanks so much! I'm so glad that you picked up on the reference. You are so PERAWESOOVY!
Okay, so I have I.E. here 'cuz Writer is missing.
I.E: Hello. I believe that we have not been properly introduced yet. My name is Inner Editor but I.E. is fine. I am the psyche-persona that is in charge of editing.
Could you be any more formal?
I.E: Shut up before I destroy you.
...Jerk.
Something's missing
And I don't know how to fix it
something's missing
And I don't know what it is
At all
Something's missing by John Mayer
Requiem of the Fallen Kings Ch. 2: Whispers
Raven whistled merrily as she went to visit to her brother. Last night, she had one of the worst nightmares in the history of nightmares. But then for some reason, the nightmare went away and she fell into a blissful dream. She knew exactly who did it and what the person did.
'Oh Charles...'
Charles always dismissed it as something that didn't require much energy but Raven knew otherwise. Calming down a nightmare took a lot out of the young man.
She sighed, she really did need to find a way to help Charles with his self-sacrificing complex. He could turn into the stubbornest man on Earth if he wanted to. He wouldn't stop working until he had to.
She rolled her eyes when she thought about all the times she found him passed out at his desk. Every time, his eye twitched as if he were still fighting the sleep he fell into. He worried her to death whenever he did that but he always insisted that he was fine.
'Little brothers, what else would you expect from them?'
She glanced down at the tray in her hands and smiled when she found that the pancakes were still hot. Charles adored pancakes and it was the least she could.
Opening the door with her elbow, she entered the room and called out, "Oh Charles~. I have pancakes!"
In three seconds Charles would be up and ready.
3...
She planted her feet a bit more firmly on the floor.
2...
Raven braced herself for the impact.
1...
'I hope I don't fall like last time.'
...
...
...
Raven opened her eyes and looked around the room in confusion. Charles wasn't there. In fact, it looked as if he hadn't even entered the room in a long time.
She went to his study.
He wasn't there either.
The library.
Nothing.
The courtyard.
Nothing.
The kitchen.
Yet again, nothing.
She huffed and placed the tray angrily on the kitchen counter. She spent the whole morning preparing his favourite breakfast and he was nowhere to be found.
It was then that Erik entered the kitchen.
"Hey, do you know where Charles is?" She asked looking up from the quickly cooling pancakes.
Erik shrugged, "Don't know, don't care."
*~***.***~*
*~***~Requiem of the Fallen Kings~***~*
*~***.***~*
Pain.
That was all he felt when he drifted into consciousness. His forehead felt like it was going to - no scratch that - it felt like it wassplit in two. He gingerly touched the side of his head. He hissed when he felt immense pain at the contact and retracted his hand. He was wounded but...when did that happen? Against his better judgement, he opened his eyes.
And he was promptly blinded by some very bright lights.
He groaned and closed his eyes but the intense glare of the lights still pierced his eyelids. If only the lights were off...
As if answered by an angel, the lights dimmed. His eyes fluttered open and he blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust.
"Good, you're awake."
The voice cut through his haze. He lifted his head as best as he could and searched for the source of the voice. His gaze finally landed on the strange looking blob to his left.
Blob?
Wait, that couldn't be right.
He squinted and sure enough the fuzzy blob began to come into focus. He could make out the features of a middle aged-man. The man had dark brown hair which was covered with a funny looking grey helmet. He also had grey eyes that looked kind at first glance but upon deeper examination, one could see something lurking beneath them. He couldn't exactly pinpoint what that something was. The man looked familiar, the emotion he felt towards the man could only be described as...malice? No, it was more like...anger. Yes, anger.
But why?
"Who...?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. His mouth was so dry. So thirsty.
"Ah, you must still be a little dizzy. I can understand. I'm sorry, I suppose I used a little too much strength when I hit you. Water?" The man responded, handing him a flask of water. He graciously accepted the water, though not without slight hesitation. What the man said struck him as...odd. Hit me? Was that why his head hurt? Was it an accident?
There it is again.
Anger.
Wh-
Everything came back to him at once. Walking through the halls, taking away Erik's nightmare, playing the piano and then darkness. No, wait. There was something before that. Something important.
A man.
Yes, that's right. A man. He saw a man right before he blacked out.
Shaw.
He froze just as he was about to drink the water and threw the flask across the room violently. For all he knew, it could have been poisoned. Everything made sense now. This man was Sebastian Shaw. This man was the one who tortured his friend. This man...was the same man who kidnapped him.
He bolted straight up from what he assumed to be a bed and glared at Shaw. But his glare fell the instant the nausea began to settle in. He hunched over and clutched his stomach. He screwed his eyes shut tightly and placed a hand to his mouth.
'Don't throw up. Don't throw up. Don't throw up.'
But his stomach had other plans.
Shaw gave him a bucket, barely making it in time as Charles threw up everything he had in his stomach. Once he was done, Charles lied back down on the bed, exhausted.
"Thanks..." He said quietly as he turned away slightly ashamed. He was thankinga borderline psychopath of all people.
Shaw stared at him with amusement but said nothing as he exited the room with the bucket.
Charles took this chance to take in his surroundings. It was a big room - even to him - but it was scarcely furnished. There was a bed, two chairs, a piano and a bookshelf but nothing more. However, there was one fact that grabbed his attention. All the walls and the ceiling and even the floor were covered with mirrors. Not one spot was left bare.
It was obviously not his home or anywhere that he recognized.
Panic started to grip his heart. 'What's going on? Why am I here? Where is here exactly?'Questions buzzed around in his head as he tried to figure out what exactly was happening. But he only gained more questions and no answers.
'There has to be a way to get into Shaw's head...Wait.'
He had telepathic powers. Of course he could get into Shaw's head. He placed two fingers on his temple and concentrated.
Silence.
His eyes widened, he couldn't hear anything. There were no thoughts, no emotions, not even the gentle buzz of the minds of other beings. Just his own thoughts. Ever since he discovered his powers, he had been wishing for silence since telepathy never stops working. But now...
'No, don't give up. Keep trying!'
He was about to raise his fingers when he heard the door open.
"Don't waste your energy Charles." Shaw chided as came back into the room with another flask. But despite his brain screaming at him for to take take the flask and drink the water, he refused. Nothing the man did could be trusted, he knew that much from Erik's memories. Shaw chuckled gently and set the flask down on the foot of the bed.
"What did you do to me?" Charles asked. Shaw smiled and gestured to his helmet, "I believe you have misunderstood. I did absolutely nothing to you. See this helmet? It protects me from your powers. Oh and the room is surrounded by mirrors. Who knew that mirrors were all one needs to stop a telepath cold?"
The Englishman donned a passive expression in response. He refused to allow Shaw the satisfaction of seeing fear. But on the inside he was very close to having a break down. He was injured and powerless and he was in the presence of a very dangerousman.
Not exactly the odds he would have liked to have.
"Now, let's have a little talk shall we?" Shaw said as he flashed Charles another mocking smile. "I've been meaning to meet you for some time now."
"Really now?" Charles answered evenly, "I get hit over the head just so you can meet me. Next time, maybe try calling me so we can discuss this like civilized men."
"I assure you Charles-," then Shaw's expression darkened, "-that there's a perfectly good reason why we're meeting under these...circumstances if you will.
Charles felt a bead of sweet run down the side of his face. Whatever Shaw's 'good' reason was, it was definitely going to be something he would not enjoy.
I just noticed that the initials of my title are ROTFK. Transformers much? XDDD. I didn't notice until now.
Je suis stupide. Je n'ai jamais été génial. :(
I.E: Non, non, mon amie. C'est faux! Et autant que je suis concerné, tu es très génial!
I.E...Merci.
I.E: De rien. C'est ce que les amis sont des.
Dans les bons moments et les mauvais moments~!
I.E: Alright. Okay. I get it. Stop before we burst into a musical.
Je ne comprends pas. Je suis française.
I.E: Shut up.
Je te déteste.