A Royal Capture
Chapter Two
Day Twenty.
In a room filled with deafening silence.
Xanxus was a bloody heap of broken bones. Regularly throughout the week, some new underling would be brought and ordered to give the humiliated male a few new bruises. He didn't give a damn anymore, though. He'd tried channeling his flames into the ground, into the walls, anywhere he could wriggle his hands to, he'd try to burn. But the walls were a tough metal - one that conducted heat, but didn't melt easy. The result was the mature male simply hurting himself.
There was only one way out - or at least, one way to give the Spiaggia a pleasing power-outage. If he directed flames at the monitor that smiled at him from the far corner of the room, such a thing might be possible. But he couldn't. Not because the moniter was fixed on his love - no, not at all! it was because in all truth, he couldn't get there. The boss of the Varia had been stolen of his crown. As of now, he was a feeble, weak man. The muscle that clung to him so perfectly only weeks before now hung pathetically off him, almost like paper. His face was hollow, so pale that the only scars that could be seen were the fresh wounds. Bruises, scrapes... nothing of his past.
"Vooooi."
It almost sounded like he'd croaked as a frog might. But this was no Fran impersonation, this was simply a gentle 'voi,' Xanxus's way of keeping Squalo in his heart when all he had was a moniter to refer to. Looking back up at the computer screen, Xanxus furrowed his brows. The shark did not look good.
Xanxus slowly began to scowl deeper as something strange happened - a break in the monotonous routine the Spiaggia had put them into. A man with red hair and a thin beard - Zakuro, as Xanxus recalled - walked out towards Squalo and offered him a glass of water. "Oi, idjit. Drink this. I went out of my way to get it for you, so you better be damn happy," came the sound of the voice through the moniter.
"... Thank you..." Squalo's obnoxious voice had been reduced to a mere whimper. He took the glass with shaky hands, then, in a sudden burst of strength, smashed it against his forehead, glass breaking and water spilling over his inch-long silvery hair.
"The hell?!" Zakuro snapped, before reaching down, grabbing the collar of the shark's shirt and pulling him up. "What do you think you're doing, idjit?!"
"It doesn't feel the same," Squalo whispered, "but I can deal with it... heh."
Zakuro frowned darkly. "Look, idjit, your boss is dead. You're never going to see him again."
The Rain nodded, and the Storm continued, "If you move on and pledge allegiance to us, you could have a much better life."
The shark was silent for a few moments, before he finally gave his answer. "I'd rather be killed."
"Your words, not mine," Zakuro muttered, "But we'll give you more thinking time." He smirked then, and leaned in close to the shark. "So you just sit pretty, all right, idjit?" He then let the shark sink back down to his knees.
Xanxus's chapped lips tugged into a small frown. So this was it? Lock him and Squalo up, then beat him senseless while getting some other trash to try and seduce his lover?
"Damn shark trash... be strong," Xanxus muttered gruffly, slumping against another metal wall, before clenching his teeth and forcing out a pulse of flame energy, groaning as his now sensitive skin was burned once again.
Day twenty.
In a room with no soul.
Hibari hissed as he continued to fight, strong even after twenty days deprived of food, water, and any sort of sanity (see, sanity just didn't exist here). The lions and jaguars below seemed to have grown weary of trying to claw him down from up there. From his place suspended from the ceiling...
Damn it was annoying.
"Oi," Hibari called. "Half-blind tiger." The tiger he'd addressed gave him a wary glance, the grotesque scar over its right eye more prominent than ever as it did so. "Want a snack?" he asked in his tired voice, hanging limply in the rope. When his only response was the tiger resting its head back on its paws and grunting, he grew angry again and began to thrash against his bindings twice as vigorously as before.
"Everyone... bark," came a tiny voice from the door as a skinny young boy stepped through, wearing only black slacks, and bearing greenish-black, straight hair. Startled, Hibari glanced up, frowning as he saw him with a bag full of rancid meat. "You've been in here so long, bark. I'm surprised you haven't gotten to him yet, my slaves... bark." He set down the bag before the group of large cats, before giving a hard growl. "You worthless slaves do not deserve this food, bark!" As the cats started towards the bag, the boy released his box weapon, showing a dark-furred wolf that immediately lashed out towards a lion, biting it. The response was immediate - the hungry cats all ran to the far side of the room, ears flat and tails lashing around in fear.
"Juniper, enough!" came a new voice - this one more familiar. "We w-want the beasts to attack, not be attacked..."
"Daisy... bark," Juniper whispered, glaring back at the pine-haired male, before leaving. "Come, Precious, bark." The box weapon followed the boy out of the room, and the remaining male turned up to look at Hibari, before moving to a wall and pressing along a side of it.
The square of tile slid out then - clearly a secret platform. Stepping on to the tile stair, Daisy glanced up at the ravenette. One by one, more panels revealed themselves, making a spiral staircase around the room that led up to where Hibari was bound. The reborn Funeral Wreath made his way slowly up to the prefect, his stuffed animal rabbit clutched to his chest as always. As he stepped up right beside the roped Cloud guardian, the pine-haired male said gently, "Are you in pain?"
Hibari sent the other a hard glare, eyes blazing with broken pride and bitterness. As he let his head hang limply again, he rasped, "I hate you... all... of you..." Daisy shrugged, then moved forward. With Hibari's elbows and knees bearing the most rope, the pine-haired male took a hold on each of the thick bindings, before stepping forward, resting a foot against the Cloud's lower back. "Gh...," Hibari grunted in pain as weight was pressed on to him, then bit his lip hard to stop himself from crying out in pain as Daisy's other foot landed against his shoulder blades. With the other standing on him, his rope-burned skin began to bleed - as did his lip once he bit through it entirely.
"How about now?" Daisy whispered, but Hibari held out, squeezing his eyes shut and struggling to keep his bloody body strong enough to stay unbroken. Then, suddenly, Daisy stepped against the back of his head. "Useless. It's like you're on the receiving end this time. Just like whenever you're with Rokudo." Hibari's eyes snapped open wide, but still he remained silent, letting himself be beaten down. He couldn't fight back - if he did, his weak elbows would break. He had to be careful. Play it safe this time.
And then Daisy did the unspeakable. He leaned down close, kicked Hibari's back a little, then whispered, "I bet it turns you on, you masochistic pig."
Hibari's bleeding lips sunk into an angry frown, and then, he took the chance to thrash, knocking Daisy off of his balance. To his chagrin, the other male simply stepped off onto the platforms again, soon starting to head down the staircase, and what was worse...
Snap!
"Agh-!" Hibari cried out as his left elbow snapped painfully, tortured by the ropes. He closed his eyes again, breathing a little heavier than normal as pain radiated strongly through his body. He wouldn't cry, but...
"M-Mukuro...," he rasped, his cheeks flushing now as he tried to pretend it was a cruel game his lover and him were playing. "I'm okay, Mukuro. I can take more."
And in another room, where the camera on Hibari fed over to the illusionist he loved, a small, strained chuckle could be heard. "I hear you, Kyouya. And I believe in you... even if you can't see or hear me, my soul is watching over you."
Day Twenty.
In a room with no light.
Byakuran had given up trying to explore his room. His hands cuffed behind his back, he sat still and waited, letting the voices of his otherworldly selves cut into him.
"Worthless."
"Should have listened to us."
"You're done for. You will die here."
He didn't care that he had started to cry regularly. He didn't care that his body was filthy now - as his room had no tile floor or wooden planks. It was all dirt.
And within that, Byakuran was starting to feel like dirt himself. All of the voices, telling him how useless he was. Not having anyone real to speak to. Being so alone, in his own private hell. If he'd been insane before, then sanity was the worst thing he'd ever experienced. What had he done in life? Tried to kill a benevolent teenager, tried to destroy a world that he hated just for the bad things within it. Maybe Choice was an accomplishment. That could be a fun game for others, if it didn't involve real lives being taken.
No... he was useless, just like his fellows told him.
"But that's okay," he whispered, tasting dirt on his lip. "Because I have my little strawberry shortcake..." He coughed then, eyes stinging with tears and nose running as he struggled to relax again. Even in his condition, he managed a feeble smile, rocking a little on his thighs and curling his wings around him. He began to remember what it was like, the last time he held his lover. They had slept in each other's arms on the jet ride home - had softly cuddled with each other, felt along each other's spines... one giggled whenever the other gave an involuntary shiver. He remembered slim fingers playing with his hair, curling the white strands and letting them spring loose. He remembered the prod of a marshmallow at his lips, and how he would take a nibble off of the treat before licking it, enjoying every blush and light cuff his lover would give him. He remembered the feel of glasses resting against his cheek as he tried them on, how the world looked so different through Shouichi's lenses. He remembered a caress on his shoulder, a touch around his waist, a smile, a laugh. He remembered love.
But the love was still there; Byakuran was certain of that.
Creeeaaak...
The Sky snapped to attention as for the first time in weeks, the door opened, revealing none other than the man that had brought on this mess: Kikyo. "Why are you in here?" Byakuran coughed, eyes stinging as dust billowed up into them.
"To tell you something," Kikyo said, moving forward and kneeling before Byakuran. "Irie Shouichi is dead. After all the torture, one of the underlings got carried away and sliced his head clean off of his body. I wanted to be the one to deliver the news."
Byakuran closed his eyes. He didn't want to believe it, but he would. What other information did he have? Absolutely none...
With light spilling into the room now, the Sky looked down at his bare legs and shivered as he saw the dirt and blood caked along them. Tugging at his shorts to keep himself at least a little warmer, he whispered, "What are you truly here for, Kikyo?"
The teal-haired male knelt down, and slid forward until he was holding the albino's face in his hands. "Lord Byakuran, you can be free again. All you have to do is join us. Join ME, Lord Byakuran. We can be together aga-"
Byakuran moved with more strength and furiosity than he had since he'd joined the Varia, summoning all of his energy to rock back and kick out with both of his legs - not unlike a kangaroo, actually. Kikyo grunted as the hard double-kick nailed him in the chest, sending him on to his back and radiating in pain throughout his body. Byakuran took the immediate chance to slide up to his feet and make for the open door, using his wings to push him forward, even with his wrists chained. "Shouichi!" he called out weakly, voice cracking as he came out upon a clean hall way, tracking dirt into it. Ignoring Kikyo's shouts behind him, he ran down the hall, glancing up and seeing several moniters, fixed on each of the Varia, all of them in separate rooms. "They're all alive...," he whispered, before his eyes rested on one moniter, showing a dark room with a moniter inside of it. Shouichi's pale face could be seen from the light reflecting off of it, and it tripled Byakuran's resolve. "I'll save you, Shou-chan. You're alive and you're mine," he whispered, starting to run again, before skidding to a stop, seeing none other than Andrew Spark standing in the center of the hall.
"Hello again, Byakuran," Spark snickered.
"You!" Byakuran gasped. "This whole time... and we thought you were just some stupid, mischievous child!"
"I'm fourteen. No, perhaps twelve. Maybe sixteen," Andrew said, stepping towards Byakuran, before holding up a box weapon. "Remember this? The box weapon you guys gave me? It's pretty useless, huh? A little salamander... let me show you what my real box weapon is." He held up his hand, and the five rings adorning his fingers all lit up, showing that only one of them bore Lightning flames, while most of his flame energy was Sky. Holding up a pure black box weapon, he punched flames into it and held it towards Byakuran. The cuffed male ducked down as flames shot past his head, soon trying to run past the boy, before stopping and crying out in pain as something bit down on his ankle and yanked him back. Looking behind him, his eyes opened wide. To his utmost shock, it was an upgraded version of his White Dragon that had attacked him, bearing a black body and dark, emerald eyes. As the dragon lifted him by the leg and slammed him into a nearby wall, he choked out in pain, already weakened from being held in his dank, dirty room.
"You're so useless... you could've had everything, and yet you chose to become a Varia and embrace that diseased notion they call love. You're lucky I don't turn you straight into Vindice."
"No...," Byakuran hissed, earning a grin from the boy.
"Does Vindicere truly scare you?"
"Not that...," Byakuran growled, before whimpering as he was slammed against the wall again. "I mean to say that... gh... I wouldn't have anything if I took over the world. My path... gave me everything. It gave me... Shouichi..."
Andrew was silent for a few moments, trying to read the albino's expression, before glancing over as Kikyo ran towards the two of them. "Lord Andrew, sir. I'll take him back to his room immediately, so it's okay to release him..."
"Don't let him get out again, Kikyo. Mistakes like this will get you killed," Spark replied darkly. The teal-haired male nodded, the black dragon dropped Byakuran, Andrew stalked away, and it wasn't long before Byakuran was back in his cell again, a stronger man.
Day twenty.
In a room with no love.
Bel was a giggling, insane mess. His own blood splattered the walls, the royal blood... royal lineage wasted... And the worst part was... he didn't mind all that. The cuts along his arms and back, inflicted by unworthy peasants, didn't matter.
Why?
Because the prince had froggy TV~ of course!
"Ushishishishi! Froggy's so pretty! Such a pretty princess!" Bel snickered, kicking his legs against the floor as he lay on his stomach, watching the moniter with blood-shot red eyes. "Ushishishishi... ushishishishishishishi!" Leaning forward and licking a few droplets of smeared blood off of the screen, Bel's grin couldn't get any wider.
It had been seventeen days since he'd been blessed with this opportunity. The first three days, he'd managed to find knives in his boxers and slaughtered his so-called opponents, not at all happy about the separation from Fran. But on the forth day (wouldn't you know, his lucky number!) they installed this wonderful thing in the side of his room! Now he had a one-way view of Fran, could see the illusionist's every move.
It was awesome! Even though Fran was sulky, nobody was coming in and hurting him. Bel could watch his lover explore all around the room in his kinky handcuffs, and a funny part of it was that the Spiaggia had given Fran some little recording device that played back the prince's 'ushishi' and 'Oh Froggy~' phrases. Bel kind of hoped it would get his lover in the mood, but instead it just seemed to bum him out more. So while he let some Spiaggite cut his shoulder, he asked softly, "Please tell your boss to bring Froggy some company. Not to hurt him - ushishishi, my heart keeps thudding, it's so weird~! - but to comfort him. He's lonely without his prince."
"Y-yessir."
The boy who came in to 'torture' him was softspoken and polite. Bel happily mused whether the boy was scared of him, but almost never dwelled on the other's actions. After all, he was a very loyal prince, not one to muse the doings of peasants. "Go do that now, Soro."
The brown-haired male paused, glancing up with pale blue eyes, before nodding slowly. "I'll leave you, then." He slipped out of the room quickly, the yellow Spiaggia ring on his finger glinting at Bel before it was taken from his sight.
The prince smiled, and after waiting for a few moments, saw the door to Fran's cell open up, revealing the teal-haired girl, Bluebell. "Ushishi, that's interesting," he mused. "She and Froggy could become friends, I guess. Uke buddies."
"Hey there, baby, you lonely?" she called, sitting down in front of Fran.
"Break it," Fran rasped, his voice so croaked and tiny Bel almost couldn't recognize it. But nonetheless, hearing his lover's voice again sent endorphins coursing through the prince's spilled blood.
"Hmm?"
"Break it!" Fran said again, looking up at Bluebell. "Break that stupid machine with Bel's voice on it. I'm sick and tired of it."
Bel's lips curved into a frown at this, but the worst hadn't happened yet. After the girl moved to the machine and obliterated it, she headed back to Fran and once more sat down - this time, beside him. "Are you all right?"
Slowly, Fran moved, leaning against her. "I'm cold... I'm hungry... I'm sleepy. No, I'm not all right, Rainwater-head."
She snickered at this. "With an attitude like that, I can't bring you anything, you know. Why don't you ask nicely?"
Fran sighed heavily and glanced up. "Please. Food and water... and a blanket. At least that."
"Sure thing," she answered, leaning in and swifty kissing Fran's cheek, before leaving the room again.
Bel's jaw hit the floor.
Before he curled up on the ground and let out a blood-curdling scream.
-End Chapter
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