Chris: I'm alive! It's been so long since I've made a chapter for any fanfiction. I re-read this and decided to continue. Woot.
Amy: Thanks for the review, and the compliment. As for a romantic sub-plot. I dunno. Hints maybe? Not too sure yet.
Little-fox012: Well, here you go! XD Featuring the tape chapter.
Chand Aur Roshani: As I told Amy, I might. But this is more of a horror story, not much as a romantic one.
Koshilo: Thank you!
neyma: Don't worry, I understand. I was being ignorant, you're completely right. " Thank you though.
Midnight Mystique: That's my intentions! Yay for me!
Kinoshita Kristanite: XD You'll see!
petaldancer: Thank you, and here you go! A new chapter, finally.
X-Chan: Well… I didn't hurry, but here we go.
SpiritAnime: You were really scared? Yes!
Estrella85: You should be used to cliffhangers by this point. XD
For almost three hours the tape played, Watanuki not even bothering to fast forward. He sat in silence, watching himself use the object, a pen from what he could tell; slowly scratch into the walls of his room.
Suddenly his figure on the tape stopped, dropped the pen, and backed up. Leaning in, Watanuki gasped.
He watched himself slowly back up, looking about the room. Lying back down, the figure on the tape remained there for a few moments before sitting up once more, grabbing the flashlight, and looking about as he had previously. He stood, ran, attempted at the door, and stopped. Watanuki watched in sick disgust and horror as his own hand came up, grabbing a hold of his own throat, and clamp down. His other hand was snaking its way toward the drawer, taking out a long hair pin he had once found on the side of the road, and slammed it down upon his right hand.
Falling backward onto the bed, Watanuki brought up his hand, face emptied of emotion. A trickle of dried liquid had made it way down the back of his hand, the wound, unnoticed before, now stinging in his mind.
Ooo
Doumeki walked into class the next day, mind pretty dull as the morning had rushed up upon him. One minute he was sitting in his room mulling over what he would have Watanuki cook the next day, then all of a sudden… it was the next day. He had nothing he had decided to eat, and it was starting to burn at his nerves. Not that he would express it though, that just wasn't him.
His main topic walked in, just in time. Usually they would have seen each other on the way to school, but Watanuki had not met him at the shrine when he had awoken. It was strange, but he was ignorant as to where exactly Watanuki lived. He had gone there once or twice, but for the life of him he couldn't remember the exact address, only ending up there by accident. Had he known, he would have gone to see him.
"Hey." He said, his voice monotonous per usual.
Expecting a verbal assault he mentally covered his ears… yet nothing happened. Blinking, he watched the younger man walk past him, his figure retreating slowly toward his seat. Doumeki stood in his spot for a moment before stepping over, sitting in front of him.
Honestly he was a rather awkward kind of guy. He usually spoke outright and to the point, yet his brain knew that such actions were not always appropriate. This might have been one of those times. Or it wasn't. He didn't know, nor could his brain manage to muster enough thoughts to figure such a problem out. It was early, he was tired and hungry, and bothered by the silent male behind him. Finally he turned slowly, eyes attempting to look into the others.
No such like. The eyes were downcast, and it looked liked they were going to stay that way.
Something caught his eyes. The hand Watanuki used to hold his books and bags was covered in a small white bandage. Of course this could have been the result of some cooking accident, or a small slip, but this was Watanuki. He didn't make cooking accidents, it wasn't in his nature. And yes, a small slip could have happened, but Doumeki wasn't excepting of such actions.
Without a second thought he had that hand in his own strong pair, fingers instantly winding away the cloth. Watanuki, being Watanuki, because that's all he could really ever be, tried to pull back, his voice ringing protests and curses that Doumeki had long since learned to put into the back of his mind.
What could he say? His grandfather had premonitions as a still. He had the ability to ignore annoyances. He believed that was just as powerful.
"Let me go!" Watanuki shrieked, trying to pull away from the older man. Yet his wrists were small, his strength little, and he was obviously no match.
Eyes blinking, Doumeki stared down at the small stab like wound. It was tiny, but deep. He scanned it, but sadly his grip had loosened, and Watanuki yanked his hand away from him.
"Do you mind?!" He yelled into Doumeki's face.
Rubbing his ear, Doumeki remained silent, staring uncertainly at Watanuki. After a few moments he finally let out a breath, turning back into his seat.
He decided at that moment he needed to meet with Watanuki later that evening.
Ooo
The night was cool, and gave Doumeki a dark chill. He walked onward down the road, not sure exactly where he was headed, but decided to continue onward. In his grip was a small bag, one that Watanuki had allowed him to borrow when he had stolen… er… liberated some of Watanuki's meals. Inside was a tiny address. Vague, but enough to be able to tell where his road was.
Within the last few weeks Doumeki had begun to seen a change in the younger mans behavior. One that honestly, worried him. He didn't like it when Watanuki was bothered, though it seemed to happen more and more lately.
He assumed he was more bothered with his lack of ability to help. Yes, when he was around the younger man he could repel the creatures which attacked him, but that seemed to be all. Watanuki was alone most of the time, and that meant defenseless. And even when he was around, there were some things he couldn't control, some events that were beyond his reach.
As he had grown up he had learned to hate things that were beyond his ability. His grandfathers death might have put that disgust within him, he wasn't sure. He liked to be in control, he liked to know what was going on at all times, he did not like to be left in the dark, or unable to assist when he knew he was needed. So to have met with someone like Watanuki, someone who troubled him more then anyone else because of his complicated existence was rather overwhelming. Yet, he kept coming back for more. He almost enjoyed it.
If he could sum it up, it was like being the best at the bow, and a force coming down on him that was getting bulls eyes like no other. He felt he needed to overcome this new obstacle. To beat it down and take it's ability from it.
He wanted to be able to protect Watanuki with no reservations.
Before he knew it he was at a door. Glancing down at the paper within his hand he read it over, before looking back at the tile that was placed on the wooden frame. Seemed to be the place.
The apartment complex was nothing to be excited about. Just a basic package, and it didn't look too great. But that was perfectly fine for people with little money, which he assumed was the case for Watanuki. Honestly, he didn't know if he would ever feel comfortable living in such a place. His bedroom was the size of Watanuki's kitchen and living room. He could live in a place like that; he just wouldn't be used to it for a long time. Though he assumed it didn't matter.
Taking a hold of the door he pushed it open, trying to be as silent as he could as to not awaken the other people of the complex. It wasn't late, it was just late enough that some people might have already retired. Taking a step into the dark hallway he began his trek towards Watanuki's room.
It wasn't too far away, and only up one flight of stairs. He remembered walking up those stairs several times prior, yet most of it was a blur to him. Perhaps it was because he was just blindly following Watanuki with no questions.
He really needed to focus more on his surroundings.
He knocked, softly. Waiting, he began to tap his foot, looking around himself. It really wasn't exciting, and the dark grey walls would have made him depressed long before he ever decided to move in, if that would ever happen.
Two minutes. Nothing.
…
Five minutes.
…
He was annoyed. Grabbing a hold of the handle he pushed it open, stepping into the small apartment.
Dark air swept into his senses, and he coughed. It smelled as if no one had aired the building out in weeks. Old dust and a musky scent. Shaking his head he stepped forward, noting the dark atmosphere, which included no lights and a heavy feeling upon his shoulders.
Everything was silent. Perhaps Watanuki wasn't home. Stepping forward, he walked into the hall, taking in everything around him. Which honestly, wasn't much. The house was as empty as always.
Something caught his vision. Stepping over toward Watanuki's shelf, he grabbed a hold of a small TV. He had never seen this before. Watanuki, actually having a bit of technology in his home, it was almost enough for him to whip out a calendar and write it down.
Curiosity smacked him upside the head, and Doumeki clicked it on.
He couldn't have even register what he watched, even though he was viewing it right before him. Watanuki, crying and screeching, etching into his own walls, and the self abuse that he was putting upon his own body. It was as if he mind wasn't there, as if he had escaped himself and his being was being controlled by another force. The person that he watched could not have been Watanuki, he just couldn't see it.
Something crashed in the kitchen. Dropping the small TV, he heard it smash to the ground, a small voice in his head ringing "you're going to have to pay for that later you know". Spinning towards the kitchen, he slowly he made his way over.
His brain stopped upon reaching the door, everything in his mind becoming nothing more then lost thoughts. It was as if his body had shut down, the shock over whelming him.
Before him was what looked like the kitchen, scarred and cut into with long jagged lines. In the middle was Watanuki, his fingernails broken and bleeding from the wounds that he had inflicted from cutting into the walls. A look of madness was plastered upon his face, eyes dilated, mouth open in a horrified silent scream.
In his hands, which were held high above his head, a sharp kitchen blade. It had taken Doumeki a few moments to see it, to be blinded by the reflection as a car had driven by. Upon seeing it, his mouth opened, body moving, yet so slowly.
And the blade was sent downward, piercing the clothing that covered Watanuki's belly, a mad scream burning into the air.
Ooo
Chris: :3 Yeah. Enjoy? Well, per usual, review. Sorry for the long update.
Over and Out!
