Part six, peoples, and the darkest one yet. Those of you with a nervous disposition, look away now. Or, um, click the back button or something.
Warnings: This chapter is probably be reason the story is rated M; there's a lemon I've tried not to make too graphic...which could or could not count as non-con, depending on your view, though I would say it is. Use and abuse of drugs, swearing and general unpleasantness.
ZomBRI: Well, it wasn't intended to be laughed at...but hey, whatever works.
Coco Gash Jirachi: Geez, you're all more mental than Chazz...and did you get that Jaden thing from fairly odd parents?
The Goddess Azure Thunder: Ah, well...the thing about that is...
Littlest-Angel: Hello! (gives cookie) Here you go. Nah, I never pictured Adams as Sartorious, since he doesn't look like that in my mind, but I suppose he's a lot like him, huh? With the whole eerily calm thing going on, and the general creepiness factor...and all the white is reminiscent of season two. Haha, I'm glad you picked up on the ego thing, I hoped someone would. And a black straightjacket? Hm...not a bad idea, actually...
Garnet-Crystals: Yay, new reviewer! Thank you for the comments - I planned to show some of the other residents of Pandora, but I'm not big on OCs, so I figured I better not. Plus, since it's from Chazz's POV, the story is centred purely around him. Ah yes, the seeds are sown for the start of ChazzJaden...cue evil laughter.
Sandaa: Aw, thank you! Hey, you don't need to be a writer to have an account here - many people are just reviewers and critics, and they contribute to the site just as much as the authors do. I'm glad you like the story so much, since I work so hard on each chapter, it's good that someone really appreciates it.
Did I mention that I don't own yugioh GX?
Delirium, part six (Forfeiture)
I've gone to hell.
There's no other way to explain it; I've died and gone to hell. I don't even believe in hell, along with the rest of that religious junk, but here I am: bound in a straightjacket and staring at padded walls, dim sunlight filtering through the slit in the wall they call a window. Faces shift and form in the pattern of the walls; I blink and they're gone. I daren't lean against any of the walls in case they get me, so I stay hunched up in the middle of the cell, ignoring a protesting spine, watching with guarded eyes.
And I'm not the only one here. You hear them through the soundproof walls, whispering and wailing and chattering and crying and shrieking and shouting and howling and-
"SHUT THE HELL UP, DAMMIT!" A cracked, hoarse voice screeches from my sore lips, "IS IT REALLY SO MUCH TO ASK FOR SOME FUCKING PEACE AND QUIET AROUND HERE?!"
They go silent after that.
"Now what is all that racket?" A female voice says. I look up to see some kind of nurse enter the room with a guard, who stands sentient at the door. The nurse walks over to me, setting down a plastic bowl of water with a sponge among other things.
"Let's see...4021, Charles Princeton, right?" She smiles. I nod numbly. "Dr Adams sent me. He mentioned that you weren't looking so good, and asked me to come and get you cleaned up. Is that alright with you?"
I frown: Adams is behind this? But why? He doesn't care about me, just about what he can get from me, so why...?
"Charles?" The nurse asks again. "Are you listening?"
"What - oh," I blink. It's suspicious why he'd do this, but I can hardly turn down a free clean, especially after - how long has it been? A week? - deprived of a shower. With that in mind, I nod my head.
"Alright then!" She says cheerfully, "Let's get you out of that straightjacket - and no trying anything or the guard will have to restrain you, and we don't want that, do we?"
"Stop talking to me like that," I snap irritably, "I'm fifteen, not five."
"Okay!" She beams, not fazed in the slightest. She goes about unbuckling the straightjacket until it falls to the ground. My arms tingle after being bound for so long, too sensitive to move. They fall uselessly on the floor, starting to cramp up.
"Let's get you cleaned up then," She runs her fingers through my hair, noticeably limp and lacklustre after a week without washing, "Hmm, there's not much I can do about your hair, I'm afraid, but maybe a quick wash would help..."
She pulls me out of the shirt and shorts I wear underneath the straightjacket, leaving me to sit awkwardly on the floor with my legs pressed tightly together and red dusting my cheeks. She doesn't seem to notice though, chatting away happily as she sponges down an arm I can't lift by myself:
"You're so lucky to have Dr Adams looking out for you, you know," She tells me, unable to see the look of disbelief on my face, "He doesn't usually get this involved with his patients, but he really seems to have taken a shine to you."
"A shine, huh?" I comment dryly.
"He's one of the nicest doctors here - not to mention one of the best. I guess people overlook him because of his age," She continues, not paying much attention to me, "He hasn't even reached 30 yet, and already he's secured such a high position. Such an achievement, and he's so handsome too..." She pauses to sigh dreamily. I resist the urge to snort - evidently this woman knows nothing about Adams.
"Anyway, he must care quite a bit about you to arrange this," She absentmindedly gestures towards the tub of water as she scrubs my bare legs, "Bathing is a luxury for high-security patients, since they can't be trusted outside of their straightjackets, but Dr Adams said you'd be alright. Funny, I didn't think someone like you would end up here, you're such a quiet little thing-"
Because I can't get a word in edgeways, I think.
"-And you certainly don't seem like the sort of person who'd do anything bad. Why are you in here again?" I open my mouth to answer, but she does it for me, "Oh that's right, switching that man's medication. He's here too, you know, in the cell next to yours."
Hm. So that's who keeps howling at the moon.
"Heavens, the damage caused that night! They say one of the guards was killed, you know," She says, lifting a jug of water and pouring it over my head, causing me to yelp, "But you don't look like the kind of person who'd cause all that trouble. Why, when Dr Adams sent me here I thought you'd be one of those violent types, the thought scared me half to death - but here you are, meek as anything, and so pretty too," She pats my head fondly.
"Pretty?!" I start, but the feel of water trickling down my back silences me with a shiver. She rubs a bit of soap into my hair, then dumps another jug of water on me, soaking the padded floor.
"Anyway, I was even more nervous when I heard about you an the reason you're in Pandora from some of the other nurses - gossip goes around like that. Didn't you kill your brothers or something?"
"Tried to," I grunt, relaxing when a warm sponge rinses my back. Ah, that feels nice...
"I wouldn't know; it was all hushed up before the papers could get to it," She continues, moving the sponge over my back and shoulders. "You don't look like someone who'd up and attack their siblings, but I guess appearances can be deceiving. You shouldn't worry about it too much, though - we all go a little crazy sometimes."
"I'm not crazy," I retort.
"My, your hair is long!" She exclaims suddenly, ignoring my response, "You wouldn't think so when it's all spiky, but it trails all the way down your back...you reckon if I comb it right, it'll stay down?"
"I don't want it down," I snap, "I like my hair spiky."
"Mm-hm," But she's too busy combing my hair down to listen to me, "Oh doesn't that look cute? I can see why Dr Adams looks out for you, you're so adorable!"
"I am not adorable!" I protest vehemently.
"Of course not," She pats my head again, to my annoyance, "I brought some fresh clothes for you to change into, by the way."
I snatch the neatly folded clothing she presents me with, turning my back to her and hastily dressing. "...Thanks," I mumble when I'm done.
"Oh, and polite too! Manners are such a rarity nowadays, you hardly hear people saying please and thank you anymore-"
"That's quite enough, Polly," Says a calm voice.
I feel a wave of anxiety at the sight of Adams leaning against the doorframe - how long has he been there? Did he see me changing? Why didn't I notice him earlier?
"Oh, Dr Adams! I didn't expect to see you here," The nurse - Polly - simpers, a faint blush painted across her cheeks. Hmph, just like a schoolgirl.
"You know I like to keep a check on my patients. Are you done with Charles?"
"Hm? Oh, yes - he was ever so polite as well," She chatters, gathering everything together, "So shall I leave you two to talk then?"
"That would be appreciated," Adams glances at me, interpreting my murderous stare, "Don't forget to put the straightjacket back on him."
"Of course," She picks up the jacket and sees me flinch, "Now now, Charles, there's no need to be scared. Into the jacket you go."
I don't want to - hell, would anyone want to? - but there's no point in resisting. So on it goes, buckled up, and my arms start cramping up again. The nurse says her goodbye and gets up to leave the room.
Don't go, I plead silently, but she's already gone, along with the guard, and so is my shield against Adams. He looks at me meaningfully.
"My, Mr Princeton, you do get yourself in some states."
"Shut the hell up," I growl. He laughs.
"Such language! And the nurse said you were polite...evidently she doesn't know you very well."
"She doesn't know you very well, since she thinks you're one of the nicest doctors here, and I'm so lucky to have you watching out for me. Hmph," I roll my eyes.
"Why Chazz, I am one of the nicest doctors here. If any of the other top doctors wanted you in their bed, they'd drag you kicking and screaming, or at least drugged up. I, on the other hand, am prepared to make a fair exchange, which I would suggest you reconsider."
"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" I remark idly, "Like one of those telephone salesmen."
"You should be thanking me," Adams says, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice, "I've taken the upmost care of you, granting you luxuries any other patient would have been denied."
"Please, you did that for you, not for me," I interrupt, "Washing my hair, giving me fresh clothes - don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're just dressing up the doll before you play with it."
"A doll would have more sense," He points out, "I'm only trying to help you."
"It's your fault I'm in here to start with!"
"So let me get you out," His eyes glint, "I'm the only one who can, after all."
I narrow my eyes: "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh but Chazz, you're my charge; it's up to me to judge your behaviour and thus what happens to you," He tilts his head to the side slightly, "You won't be allowed out of high-security until I give the say-so. Of course, my judgement can be swayed..."
"Son of a bitch," I spit, "Blackmail is illegal."
"And attempting to murder your older siblings isn't?" He retorts calmly, "You're one to talk, Chazz; breaking the law is what landed you here in the first place."
"What a fine role model you make," I mutter under my breath.
"Why Chazz, I'm teaching you a valuable life lesson: you can't have your own way all the time, and sometimes compromises have to be made," He glances at me, "Are you willing to compromise?"
"No," I snap.
He heaves a sigh, "Then you evidently haven't learnt anything. Contemplate your options, Chazz - it can be yours: freedom not only from your hallucinations, but from this prison cell, and back to your old room. All you need to do...is say yes."
I remain silent. He shakes his head.
"Have a think about it," He tells me, and takes off his wristwatch, dropping it on the ground, out of my reach. The time reads 1:30 PM. "I'll be back at 10:00 - your choice. Good day, Mr Princeton."
9:45 PM and I'm still thinking about it. I glance at the watch still lying motionless on the floor; 15 minutes to go, 15 minutes...
The decision should be easy enough - no. Hell no. No fucking way. And yet...and yet...
I don't know if I can face another sleepless night in this...cell, otherwise I really will go crazy. Sometimes it gets so loud it's unbearable, yet other times it's so silent it hurts. I don't want another day of watching in case something decides to come crawling out of the walls, or not being able to feel my arms because they're bound so tightly.
It'd be so easy...just to...give in...
No, I can't! I can't give into him! Anyone but him! I can't sell my body, it's the only damn thing I have left - if I don't have that, what do I have?
10 minutes to go.
But what else can I do? Adams said he was the only one who could get me out of here - and he isn't going to let me go until I give in. Why stay here, miserable and alone save unwanted company, when I could have everything I want?
But...I can't...anything but that...
5 minutes to go.
It won't be that bad, 15 minutes of unpleasantness at the most, and the reward will be worth it. I'll only have to do it once, it'll be the first and last time, then I won't have to do this again. I only want my dosage, there's no shame in that - and once I have that, everything will be fine. The hallucinations will go away, and I'll be sane again. And what's sex in comparison to sanity?
10:00 PM.
The door opens, and Adams walks in, glancing at me to see if I'm still awake; I stare back from my spot on the floor as he closes the door firmly behind him and walks over to me.
"Well?" He asks. A one-word question that requires a one-word answer.
"...Yes."
"I thought as much," He nods, kneeling down to undo the straightjacket. It crumples to the floor in a chaotic heap of belts and buckles.
"I want to know something," I say as my shirt slips over my head and follows the jacket, "Why me? Why not someone else?"
"Someone else?" He laughs softly, like the ocean, "No-one has fascinated me as you do, Chazz. When I first saw you I thought you were a pretty face - but talking to you, over time, it was apparent you were so much more," The shorts join the shirt - there's no more clothes now, just me sat there and him...looking. There's a carnal hunger in his eyes.
And then he kisses me.
It's forceful in the sense that it isn't - not hard enough to bruise, no unwelcome tongues worming into my mouth. It's just...a kiss. Mouth on mouth. Lips to lips. It's...frightening.
He pulls back, doctors coat shrugged off, working on his shirt. Each button comes undone with the slow, deliberate flick of his fingers, almost sensual. I shudder - I don't like how intimate he's making this. It's supposed to be an exchange, purely business. He treats it like a liaison.
The rest of the clothing quickly follows, and then he's over me, lips pressed to my throat, working his way down. I squirm slightly despite my efforts to stay still, biting down on my lip hard enough to hurt.
"You enthrall me, you know," He speaks, words like dissonance in the quiet air, "Such a paradox, Chazz: delicate as glass yet stronger than steel, like spider silk."
"Get on with it," I hiss, then don't say any more because I can feel my control slipping.
I can see his lips form a sultry smile, causing moonlight shadows to play across his face; "As you wish," He practically purrs. I feel sorry I asked.
One slender hand trails gracefully down my form, fingertips barely brushing the skin, causing tingles in it's wake. His hands are cold - freezing, even, causing me to shiver, though not purely from the temperature. Adams pauses.
"Don't be scared," He says somewhat sadly.
That glacial touch drifts between my thighs, nudging them apart, sickeningly gentle. There's another pause, the sound of a cap being unscrewed.
"This might hurt," He tells me, voice as chilled as his caress, "But it'll be worth it."
My gasp shatters the silence when a single finger pushes in. I shift slightly, trying to get used to the feeling while he moves slowly, cautiously. A second finger. Hah...this is weird, I've never felt anything like this before. I can't quite decide if it's pleasant or unpleasant - ah, third finger! Unpleasant! Definitely unpleasant!
"Hush child," My eyes open - who said that? Adams has a look of concentration as frosty fingers move around inside me - it wasn't him. But then who...?
"Sshh, it'll be okay, everything will be okay, I promise," The Voice again. It sounds like...kimono silk...
"That should do," Adams' voice cuts through the other, hauling my attention back to the present, "You'll need to relax for the next bit..."
Something pushes in. I yelp and tense up. The pain doubles.
"Relax, I said," He reprimands me, one hand drifting down to stroke between my legs. It's not really pleasurable per say, but it proves a slight distraction, at least. Even so, I'm horribly aware of it sinking deeper and deeper inside me, until-
"Ah..." Comes the strained groan from Adams when he's fully in. His face is neutral as ever - I think he's mastered controlling his facial expressions - but the slight shaking of his shoulders gives him away. A diamond droplet of sweat cascades down his temple.
Gradually he starts to move - a slight rocking at first, then grinding in and out. I turn my head to the side and focus on the straightjacket on the floor, studying the creases in the heavy material, the shadows it casts over itself, the way the metal buckles catch the light...I listen to the noises, the rustle that the movement creates, heavy breathing laced with grunts and groans, the sound of silence - anything else, anything...
His body trembles when he reaches completion, and I feel a certain heat scald my insides, making me wince. Strangely enough, it doesn't linger, disappearing when he pulls out. I see him fumble around in the dark with something - ah, condom. Of course, he wouldn't want to leave any evidence lying about.
"I trust news of this encounter will stay between us?" He asks, still slightly breathless, "Although I doubt anyone would believe your word over mine."
"Yes," I answer quietly, almost whispering.
"Good. It's less hassle for us both this way," He hands me my clothing, which I stare at for five minutes before remembering I have to put it on. I've managed to put on my shorts by the time he's finished dressing.
Adams shakes his head when he sees me: "Slow," He comments before pulling my shirt over my head for me. He reaches into the front pocket of his coat, withdrawing a single injection, "Your medication, as promised."
"Yes," I repeat hollowly, holding out my unbandaged arm. He grips the wrist tight enough for a vein to be visible, resting the tip of the needle against my raised skin and slowly pushing. It hurts, briefly, followed by an immediate numbness that spreads through me like infection.
"I'll see to the other doctors about having you transferred back into your old room," He announces, putting the now empty needle back into his breast pocket, "In the meantime, you'll have to go back into the straightjacket."
"Yes," I say a third time. Adams frowns slightly at my lack of decent response, but slips the jacket back over my arms, fastening it at the back and standing up:
"Very well...I shall be seeing you tomorrow, Chazz."
He leaves, closing the door behind him, trapping me in the darkness. I stay sat upright for a few seconds, then suddenly fall over onto my side, making no effort to get back up. Something wet slides down my cheeks - but not tears. I'm not crying. Crying is for the weak.
Everything's numb now; my eyelids struggle to stay open, but can't. The other patients have started wailing again, but the sound is drowned out by The Voice, the same voice from earlier. Kimono silk brushes against my face - white, dotted with red.
"Oh Chazz...what have you done...?"
OMG review and I will, liek, luv u 4eva. Srsly.