Hola people! I think I did a better job of getting this out in a timely matter, wouldn't you say? Okay, I know I suck at time management, but I write faster if I get more reviews! Yeah, well, please enjoy this slightly creepy chapter... and leave lots of beautiful reviews! Thanks!


Hisoka opened his eyes when he heard Watari leave the office. 003 hooted quietly at him as if knowing something wasn't right. Hisoka knew he should get some sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to confront the nightmares that he was sure would plague him. He knew that by coming into work he was just causing more trouble for Watari and Tatsumi and everyone involved, but he just couldn't be alone. At least this way, he knew someone else was always either in the building or nearby.

He looked down at his page, the words not making any sense to him. They were blurred, unidentifiable. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It felt like a balloon was trying to burst its way out of his chest and before he realized it he was curled up in a ball in his chair, eyes closed, trying to shut out the world.

"You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you, poppet?" A barely audible whisper drifted through the air and invaded Hisoka's mind. His head snapped up, eyes flying wide open. Muraki was... alive? Here? Hisoka shook his head. It was just a sound conjured up by his tired mind. It had to be.

The sun was just beginning to come in through the windows, and he knew the office would soon begin to fill up. He went to the bathroom to clean up a bit for the day. He almost didn't recognize himself in the mirror. He took a step back and shuddered. He remembered the last time he had looked like this. It had been right before he died, when he was in the hospital with an 'incurable illness'. Dark heavy bags under his eyes, pale cheeks, glassy dead eyes. There wasn't much he could do about his face, but he fixed his hair and splashed his face with cold water, hoping to wake himself up a little bit. He knew he should go home and shower, or change clothes at least, but he couldn't stand the thought of being alone. He pulled back the edge of his sweater, looking at his neck. No curse marks had appeared yet, so Hisoka took that as a good sign. Perhaps Muraki really was dead. He could finally live or, well, whatever this was, without regret or the need for revenge.

It was getting to the warmer season and Hisoka wasn't looking forward to it. Really, it was already too warm for his sweater. Maybe he could take Watari's owl with him when he went home. She would provide some company at least. He cautiously poked his head out of the doorway and looked around, hoping not to run into anyone. The cost was clear and he quickly dodged out of the office after making sure 003 was following him. He transported home and unlocked the front door.

It had only been a few days since he'd been home, but the house already felt empty and desolate. He had time, so he took what was supposed to be a quick shower, letting the hot water roll over his body, cleansing him.

After a few minutes of simply standing under the hot jet though, Hisoka began to feel like the water was pelting him, attacking his body. The water droplets repeatedly hit the same places over and over again, leaving his skin red. He turned off the water quickly. Why did his mind continue to take him such places? He stood in the shower, shaking, feeling the hot steam slowly leave the room. The mirror finally cleared and Hisoka stared at himself. A skinny, underdeveloped teenager stared back at him, a sullen glare painted on his tired face. He sighed and got dressed, frowning as he realized he would have to do laundry soon. His bed was unmade, the blankets crumpled at the bottom of the bed. Hisoka pulled the covers up, straightening the sheets. His life would be that much simpler if everything was in place. When it was made, the bed looked so inviting that Hisoka couldn't help himself from laying down. Maybe I'll just close my eyes for a bit... He laid on top of the covers and relaxed into the soft bed.
It is dark. There's a sound, maybe a fly buzzing against a lamp or a bird outside, but always a sound to keep Hisoka Kurosaki awake. He's laying in bed staring at the ceiling when he decides that some fresh air would do some good. The scene changes. A man dressed all in white is brutally stabbing some innocent woman. Hisoka runs, but the man sees him and chases, capturing him and pinning him down. Even though no one can hear him, he still screams.

"Now, what shall we do with such a pretty boy like you?" The deep seductive voice creeps around Hisoka, cradling him, eerily comforting as hands brutally rip off his clothes. Hisoka screams and sobs, begging for mercy, begging for compassion. The man flips Hisoka onto his back, pinning his arms above his head with one hand, eyes roving over the small trembling body. His free hand caresses the boy's side sending shivers of fear running down his back.

"Beautiful." The man above him whispers. His hand trails lower and suddenly Hisoka feels different. It's a feeling he's never experienced before.
This man is a murderer. He must continue to remind himself as those cold skilled hands force reactions out of his body. The man releases his arms, but they stay limply above his head. Hisoka no longer has the will or ability to move. His muscles have gone soft and compliant.

"You are mine, poppet. I will make you mine tonight." The man whispers into Hisoka's ear before biting the edge of it. Hisoka gasps, surprised mostly at the fact that it didn't hurt, that it felt... good. The man begins to remove his own clothes and Hisoka starts to worry again. He struggles, forcing his leaden muscles to move. He gets up, managing to stumble a few feet before tripping. That dark laugh is chasing him, finding him, piercing him.

The man catches him again and lays him gently down on the cold grass. When Hisoka tries again to get away, determined to fight to the end, the man grabs his hair and flips him face down, shoving the pale soft face into the dark ground. Then, without warning, the man violently thrusts himself into Hisoka's young unprepared body. The boy cries out in pain as the man continues to move, not giving him a chance to adjust. Hot, blinding pain as he feels his insides being stretched, knows he's bleeding, can't breath. The man above him moves once more inside of him and Hisoka feels himself being filled up. Suddenly, a searing pain starts all over his body as if burning metallic chains have bound him to the ground and are branding him. He screams again, though he knows no one will hear him.

"You have been reborn as mine tonight. Be my puppet, I will hold your strings and slowly seduce you to the final pleasure that is death." The man reaches for Hisoka's forehead and the boy makes one more effort to shrink away. The man smiles and firmly reaches out, placing a hand on his head.

"And now you will forget this. Enjoy your last three years of life, my dear boy. I look forward to meeting you in the future." Hisoka's eyes slide shut, their weight becoming too much to bear and he slumps over into the man's arms, fast asleep.

Hisoka's eyes flew open as he gasped for breath. He had known something like this must be coming, knew that having a nightmare was unavoidable after the traumatic experience he had been through, but that didn't help how he was feeling. He felt the curse marks stirring on his body, reminding him they were still there, though if they were just remnants of the dream he could not tell. It worried him. How was Muraki able to reach him through the grave? Why was his voice invading his head? Questions floated around his mind as Hisoka stood up and left his house. He didn't even bother looking in the mirror again because he already knew what he would find. The short sleep certainly wouldn't have refreshed him, in fact, he probably looked worse than when he arrived home. But that didn't matter. He had to be around people, had to know there were other warm life sparks out there.

He teleported back to the office and was greeted with a warm motherly hug from Wakaba. He smiled and brushed off her concern, but it still felt good to know that she cared, that anyone cared. Hisoka sat down at his desk again and picked up where he left off in his book, as he had finished his paperwork yesterday. Watari bounced into the room, looking as cheerful and full of energy as ever. When he spotted Hisoka, he skipped over to him and smiled.
"Good morning, Bon!" He looked around for a moment as if Hisoka was hiding something.

"Where is she? My owl seems to have disappeared." Hisoka's eyes widened. Where had 003 gone? Had he accidently left her back at his house? Watari shrugged, probably thinking she'd turn up sooner or later, and left after making sure Hisoka was okay.

When he was sure the scientist was gone, Hisoka quickly transported back to his house, praying that the owl was there. He opened the front door and she came zooming out. He breathed a sigh of relief and carefully took her down onto his shoulder. What would happen if he lost Watari's owl? After all the kindness the scientist had shown him, it would be cruel. He transported back to the office and returned the owl to Watari with an apology for keeping her so long. Then, before Watari could ask any more awkward questions, he left, going back upstairs to read and escape reality.


I dunno, what did you guys think? I hope the dream sequence was okay. I started writing in first person because I wanted Hisoka's point of view, but I think it turned out okay this way. Please, give me feedback! I can't become a better writer if I don't get critiqued! Constructive criticism is marvelous!