A/N: The last line in this is totally my favourite line from the whole fiction XD Info is at Devianart, go for a look see if you want.
Deviation by Nijuuni on Deviantart called "Wicked Promise" inspired his fic. Straight up Yo.
Disclaimer: My, this DOES get repetitive doesn't it?
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4.
Roxas mulled over the lunch room conversation the rest of the day at school. He gazed out the classroom window and thought hard about what Pence had said. Had there really been murders at the house? People going crazy? If that was true, wouldn't the people who sold them the house have told them? Roxas inwardly chuckled. Of course not, then his mom wouldn't have bought the house.
Still, he couldn't let himself believe that the house was haunted. It was just that creepy, isolated house that nobody went near if they could help it because of the Boogie man lurking inside. Every town had one. It just so happened that he was living in this one.
After school was over, Roxas got on the bus, and noticed that Hayner and Pence would not make eye contact with him. Great, he thought, now I'm the cursed kid. As if living so far out of town didn't make it difficult enough to make friends. Roxas plopped down in an empty seat and prepared himself for the long, arduous bus ride home.
Roxas leaned up against the front door of the house. His walk back home combined with the long school day left him exhausted. Reluctantly, he pulled out his key and opened the door, walking into the empty entranceway. His mom's new job required her to work from about noon until supper time, so Roxas would be alone for a few hours. Hearing nothing but silence, Roxas smirked and decided to try something.
"Hellooo!?" Roxas hollered, "Any big, mean ghosties or goulies going to come out and get me?" He walked down the hallway slowly, turning in circles as he did so. "Anybody want to send me to the loony bin? Blow my brains out? Splatter my guts all over the walls?" Roxas' mocking questions were met with silence. He smirked again. He wasn't surprised, but he had to admit, he did feel a small wave of relief wash over him at the house staying undisturbed. He turned and walked up the stairs to his room. He wanted to lie down for a while before tackling his homework.
Roxas walked into his room, tossed his books to the side and threw himself onto the bed. He lulled his head to the side, sighed, and closed his eyes, satisfied.
"Well, I won't blow your brains out, but I can't promise anything about the loony bin."
Roxas' eyes shot open. There was no mistaking that. Roxas bolted up into a sitting position and searched the room frantically with his eyes trying to find the source of the sound.
"Wh..Who…What…?" Roxas couldn't put a coherent sentence together at that moment if his life depended on it.
"Over here," again, the voice seemed to come from the doorway. Roxas eyed it warily. Had someone followed him into the house? Wouldn't he have seen them, or heard them following him on his walk home? A million questions ran through his mind, not being able to find an answer to any of them only making him more frightened.
"The mirror," the voice said. Roxas turned his head towards the reflective image of his room in the glass. After a moment, he rose from the bed and took small, cautious steps toward the mirror. Roxas' heart was racing in his chest. Roxas finally made it over to the mirror, and stood in front of it, gazing on his own horror stricken face. For a moment there was nothing but Roxas' reflection.
All of a sudden part of the mirror seemed to become distorted, almost bend. The strange thing was that the image was only distorted behind Roxas, not in front of him. Roxas was frozen to the spot as a shape began to form behind him. Red spiked hair, cat-like green eyes, facial tattoos and clothing that hadn't been made in centuries. The image of a young man had formed in the mirror, a couple of feet behind Roxas. Roxas whipped around 180 degrees, but when he looked back into his room, no one was there except for himself. Finishing the circle to make it a full 360, Roxas turned back to the mirror. The man was still standing in that same spot behind him, smiling at Roxas like they were old friends. Roxas did the only thing his logical mind would let him do. He opened his mouth to scream, but was too quickly overcome with powerful drowsiness, and collapsed to the floor.
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Horrified that he had gotten such a reaction from the boy; his love, his sunshine, Axel tried in vain to kneel down and rouse Roxas from his unconscious state. Sadly, the mirror did not reflect enough of the room to give Axel access to the part of the floor Roxas had passed out on, so he was forced to wait until Roxas woke up on his own.
Axel smacked himself in the forehead. Why had he done that? Why had he come on so strong? He must have scared the living daylights out of his poor Roxas, and that wasn't what he wanted to do at all. He had just wanted the boy so badly, had such a need to let him know he was there that he had acted irrationally and overwhelmed his poor sunshine. As of this moment, he was determined not to act without thinking. As difficult as it would be, he would hold off on touching his sunshine if it meant that he would become frightened. Axel tried to convince his love to wake up with soft words.
"Roxas…Roxas wake up…I'm so sorry….sunshine, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to scare you… didn't mean to…please don't be afraid of me…I love you…I love you…." Axel continued his soft spoken apology. He gave up after a minute, defeated. Then, ever so slightly, Roxas began to move again. Axel's heart fluttered.
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Roxas blinked a few times at the bright light shining into his eyes. After a few seconds he realized that it was his bedroom light, and he was sprawled out on the floor. He raised his head and hissed at the pain elicited from a bump on the back of it. He must have come down hard.
Wait, Roxas thought, why am I on the floor, what happened? Roxas' head was still too fuzzy from the fall to remember what had put him into his current predicament. He rose slowly to a sitting position, wiping his face with his hand to try and regain his composure.
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Axel had a difficult decision to make. Keep himself hidden, or risk scaring his Roxas again. As much as he feared his love running away, the desire to talk to the boy, to know the boy, to love the boy and have him love him back was stronger than his fear.
He showed his fake image on the mirror's surface once again.
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"Roxas, are you all right?" Roxas' exposed eye shot open to the size of a saucer. He remembered now.
He removed his hand and slowly looked back up at the mirror. There was that same man, a concerned look on his face that Roxas didn't notice. He was too caught up in the fact that there was a man in his mirror, talking to him. Stupidly ignoring the door behind him, Roxas yelled fearfully and dove behind the other side of the bed.
"No, please," the man pleaded, "Don't run away. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you. I'm so sorry." So very sorry.
Roxas tried to cover his ears and convince himself that he was asleep, that he wasn't going insane. He pinched his arm and was rewarded with a sharp pain. Fuck. He continued to huddle behind the safety of the bed, praying that whatever was haunting him would go away. No longer did he think of the other kids at school as stupid and naïve. They had been smarter than he was. They had told him to leave.
"Please don't be afraid, I don't want to hurt you." Roxas fought the urge to look over the bed into the face of the man who sounded so guilty and sad. His efforts were made in vain.
Roxas slowly raised his head over the edge of the bed, just enough to see the mirror. The man was staring right where Roxas was, a flicker of hope in his eyes when they made contact with Roxas'. Staring into the eyes of the red-headed man, Roxas rose at a snail's pace and sat on the edge of the bed, still on the far side. That was all he could do. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move any further. He just couldn't grasp the concept of talking to someone who wasn't there, or seemed not to be. The man was clearly standing in the mirror, but Roxas was the only soul in the room. The only human one, that is. Roxas was finally able to part his dry lips when memories from his dream the previous night flooded back to him.
"So….you're the man…in the mirror?" Roxas slowly spoke, his throat dry from lack of saliva.
Axel smiled, relieved. He bowed.
"Axel, soul proprietor of the looking glass, at your service."