JigokuShoujosRevenge: Lol. Yes, that's almost exactly how it happened! Chrollo will have a lot more explaining to do in a later chapter and he won't have Leo there to calm Kurapika down!
Raywolf Shibelt: Oh gosh! Your excitement makes me excited! Lol. I'm so happy that you liked that chapter so much!
FloralLover: Their kiss was an important scene to me and I worried a lot about how I wrote it so I'm glad that you liked it so much! And Kurapika will be suspicious don't worry. Lol. I fully intended to have our sweet blonde prince ask the real questions. I just didn't think it would fit well with him asking all the right things during the initial meeting since I imagined his mind would be all muddled. Lol. Hope you enjoy this chapter too, love! Thank you for the reviews!
Kasper: You always write such long reviews, I love it! Lol. And I'm glad you really liked that last chapter! I was sooo stressed out from this computer class I was taking (which is why it took me so long update this chapter) and so I felt like that last chapter wasn't as good as I would have liked. I'm happy you enjoyed it. I actually don't read any Harry Potter fanfics despite the fact that I really enjoyed the books. I should start though because I hear a lot of good things about them. Lol. Here you go Kasper doll! Next chapter!
Masha: Awww! Your review made me feel all happy and shit. Lol. I love how you went from only reading it from boredom to suddenly loving it so much! To be honest, a Kurapika/Hisoka story would have never interested me a few months ago. But my friend and I threw them together and now I love these dumb rascals!
Anon: Aww I love and hate that I shredded your heart. Lol. It will get repaired soon I promise! Lol. I'm glad you are feeling what I'm writing though!
Chapter 11: Hurt
He felt dizzy. The throbbing pain that pounded the back of his skull made him want to lay down to slip into unconsciousness. He hadn't felt this kind of pain in a long time. A thousand questions buzzed within his mind but only one seemed to really matter. Who did this to him?
He tried remember how this happened but his mind was still a little fuzzy. He remembered waiting in the examination room for his two favorite doctors to return from their morning meeting. He remembered lazily laying on the couch as he read Kurapika's book, 'The Secret Garden'. He remembered the door opening and his instincts firing up to the sound of a familiar dangerous heartbeat. He remembered dropping the book and turning to look at the person whose heart caused him so much anger but before he could set his eyes on them, he felt a blow to his head and then a needle pressed into his skin.
He lowered his head and deeply exhaled.
His mouth tasted metallic and his throat was scratchy.
Someone drugged him. Someone familiar and threatening. Someone who Hisoka knew. Someone he hated with every essence of his being.
Who did this to him?
Hisoka tried to lift his arms to clutch his pounding head and it was then that he realized he was shackled by his wrists. The idea of being confined like this made him very angry and he resisted the urge to growl in frustration.
He heard someone approaching.
"Kurapika." Hisoka breathed out the name without looking up.
"Good afternoon Hisoka. As you know, my name is Kurapika Kurta. I'll be your doctor today."
Hisoka's confusion grew. It felt like he was in some bizarre nightmare. Why was Kurapika talking like that?
Hisoka's words were very horse as he spoke softly through his fiery headache. "What are you doing?"
Kurapika's professional expression never wavered. It was something of a half-smile that held no true joy or pleasure. "I'm introducing myself."
That answer did nothing but raise more questions. "Why?"
A very dark and emotionless laugh escaped the doctor's bitter lips. "Because this is our first session together and it's habit I suppose." His tone was polite but something about it chilled Hisoka's heart.
He stared silently into the blonde's eyes.
The look made Kurapika crossed one leg over the other and lightly tap his pen over the clipboard. "I'm trying to help you." He added.
Trying to help him. That didn't quite feel like the entire truth. "Why am I here?" Hisoka looked down at the heavy chains clasped over his wrists then back to the male before him. "Chained." He carefully lifted his arms then put them back down.
"You have amnesia." Kurapika shortly answered, purposely avoiding the true meaning behind his question.
"No." Hisoka felt like his wrists were burning under these iron clasps. "I know why I'm in the hospital. Why am I in this room?" But even as he asked, he was beginning to understand. "You said you were my doctor." The memory of Leo's voice echoed melodiously in his mind.
'Kurapika works with some of the deadliest criminals in the world. It's why all his patients have to be separated from the rest of us.'
Kurapika nodded. "That's correct."
"I'm here because you think I'm dangerous."
"Yes."
Hisoka fell silent.
"There's a video of you killing someone." The doctor softly added.
"Who?"
"Are you implying that you've killed too many to remember?"
"I'm implying that I can't remember anything."
"You…" Kurapika quickly scribbled down some notes to avoid his pained thoughts. "Don't seem too surprised."
Hisoka's eyes dropped down to the shackles over his wrists. He wasn't. He remembered killing the store clerk. He remembered how easy it was for him. How familiar and comforting it was to see the life drain from his eyes. "Is this customary for all your patients?"
Kurapika didn't say anything.
"The chains." Hisoka reiterated.
"No." The young doctor spoke truthfully. "This is the first time I've seen it done." To be honest…He was unsure if shackles were even considered humane.
"I'm honored then." Hisoka said softly.
Kurapika carefully looked over the large man before him. He almost didn't recognize him. His demeanor was so different. It was like his entire aura was slowly becoming more muddled and…dark.
"I'll talk to someone about having them removed." Kurapika stated.
Hisoka leaned his head back against the cool stone wall and closed his eyes. "It's fine." He breathed out, ignoring the pounding headache the pressured the back of his head. The room was spinning and his hearing was a bit distorted. What was he injected with? Was it supposed to last this long?
"Where did you get your tattoo?" Kurapika's emotionless voice brought him back into reality.
"What?"
"The tattoo on your neck. With your name on it." The blonde pointed forward with his pen.
Hisoka could hear the memory of a whirring needle and the echo of his agonizing screams. "I don't remember." He lied.
The mad scientist cruelly laughed. The boy was bleeding so heavily that the entire back of his shirt was soaked in thick warm blood. 'What's your name?! Tell me your name, you worthless shit!' He roared loudly as he pressed the needle down one last time.
Salty tears drenched his face as the broken child painfully howled out his name.
'HISOKA!'
"You remember." Kurapika said. He knew Hisoka remembered. He could always tell when Hisoka was trying to hide something from him.
Hisoka winced. Of course Kurapika would know he was lying. "Someone gave it to me." 'What's your name?! Tell me your name, you worthless shit!' "Not by choice." He added.
"Why?" Kurapika asked, trying to force away the urge to talk about something else. He could sense that something was wrong. He was treading dangerous territory but now was not the time to back out, not when he was so close to the truth of Hisoka's past. "Why did someone do that to you?"
The scientist's grin grew more devious. "It's to help you remember, my good boy."
Hisoka turned his head away. "I don't know." He mumbled.
"You're lying."
"I'm lying."
"Tell me the truth."
"No."
"Hisoka." Kurapika sighed. "I'm trying to help you."
"Are you?" His tone was cold.
"Yes." The blonde sharply bit off. "I am."
"Then why am I chained?"
"Because you killed someone!" Kurapika shouted. "You crushed his skull with your fuckin' hand! Do you remember that?" A pause then, "No. Of course you don't."
"You're angry."
"No fuckin shit, Hisoka! How am I supposed to feel?!"
"I…" Hisoka looked back at the doctor and immediately regretted it. Kurapika's eyes were glazed over and his face was flushed in emotion. "I don't know."
"Right. Of course you don't know." The doctor scoffed.
"I'm sorry."
"How long did you know?" He suddenly asked.
"What?"
"How long did you know you were a goddamn killer!?"
Hisoka was silent for a few seconds before answering. "A while…" He admitted.
"Damn it!" Kurapika covered his face in his hands. "What the hell is wrong with me?!"
Hisoka wanted to reach the doctor and cursed the chains around his wrists.
Kurapika quickly stood up from his chair. "I don't know why I thought I could."
"Could what?" Did he really want to hear answer? Did he really want to know?
Kurapika forced himself to look into the redhead's golden eyes. Who was this man he once thought was his friend? Who was this stranger staring back at him? "I thought I could handle this." His heart ached as he spoke. He could feel a part of him dying inside. "I thought I could deal with you and this shit but I can't."
"What are you saying?"
"I need to be away from you for a while."
"What-" Hisoka stopped. He could see the doctor's fist clenched tightly over his clipboard. He was holding on so hard that his knuckles were white. A small whisper, barely spoken loud enough even for Hisoka's ears escaped the blonde's trembling lips.
"You promised."
Hisoka nodded and leaned down to lightly kiss Kurapika. "I promise." He promised to never break him. He promised to never steal his heart and then leave him lonely and heartless. He promised to need him. He promised to want him. He promised to be the hand that picked him up when he fell. He promised to be the voice that guided him through his nightmares. He promised to be the arms that carried him away from his worries and fears. He promised to be the smile that made everything okay.
He promised.
Kurapika turned away from Hisoka, his long blonde braid lightly swayed at his hips as he did so. "I think…" His voice was hushed and shaken yet his words held so much weight. "I think I hate you."
And those hushed shaken words rang mercilessly around Hisoka's head like a wretched memorial melody. They echoed in his mind with icy acidity and burned him down to his soul.
I think I hate you. I think I hate you. I think I hate you.
^.~
Kurapika pressed his hand over the cool wooden frame of his front door and hunched over. He held one hand over his stomach and threw up into the bushes. His chest heaved and his throat burned as he vomited yellow stomach acid in front of his house.
He coughed, feeling dizzy from sickness, as he fumbled with his keys to unlock the front door. It was difficult for him to stand without wobbling so he tried to steady himself by clutching the doorframe with one hand and resting his head on the hard wooden surface. His hands were cold but his face was flushed from heat. By the time he finally got the door open he was so weak that he almost collapsed in the entrance of his living room.
What was wrong with him?
His father's voice whispered from somewhere in the room. 'Poison…'
Kurapika shook his head hoping that the action would shake away his father's lingering words.
"I should rest…" He mumbled to no one as he stumbled to the bedroom. "I'm tired…"
'Kurapika~'
Kurapika looked over his shoulder to face the gentle sound of his mother and was half surprised to see that no one was there. He was alone.
His fingers trembled as he began to unbutton his shirt. He was such a fuckin' mess. He tossed his shirt on the ground and slumped down on his bed. A groan escaped his lips has he covered his face in his hands.
'Kurapika. You know how I feel about you making a mess.'
He moved his hands from his face and saw that he was not in his bedroom anymore. He was… somewhere unrecognizable…yet familiar. It was a child's bedroom filled with colorful toys and stuffed animals. The carpeting design had bright numbers and shapes all over it and there was a small yellow bed pushed against the wall next to an oak framed window. Everything around him had a soft hazy glow as if he were looking through a pair of rose colored glasses.
"Kurapika Kurta."
Kurapika slowly looked up to the person speaking to him. His eyes widened when he saw a beautiful woman he very much recognized standing in the doorway. It was his lucid and eloquent mother, Suzuka Kurta. She had her hands on her slender hips and her lipstick brushed lips were in a subtle, but still lovely, frown. She was wearing a simple black dress that hugged her sides as if the material was made for her. Her beautiful blonde hair was pinned back in a bun right on the nap of her neck.
"Pick up your mess." She said firmly. "You know we don't just throw our things on the ground."
Kurapika looked down in his lap and pouted from being scolded. He was two.
"Sorry mommy." He mumbled, a little embarrassed to be scolded. He trudged over to the toys that he carelessly tossed to the side and put them in his toy box.
"Thank you, sweetie." Suzuka instantly relaxed. She had a thing about messes. She felt that an orderly house meant an orderly life. "You're such a good boy." She pulled her son into her arms and smiled when Kurapika happily returned the hug.
"I love you, Pika."
"I love you too mommy."
Kurapika gasped and jumped off his bed. He knocked over the lamp that sat on his nightstand and watched it fall to the floor. The bulb shattered and broke into tiny shards across the carpet as the room was suddenly engulfed in darkness.
He shivered and rubbed his hands over his arms for warmth. It had been so long since he had a pleasant memory of his mother. It frightened him.
A raspy voice whispered in his ear. "I love you, Pika."
Kurapika cried out as he whipped around to look behind him. He saw nothing but darkness.
His heart was pounding and his breathing was short. He felt like he was suffocating. It was like the darkness that surrounded him was tightening its grasp over him until all the air drained from his body and there was nothing left but painful suffering.
He held out his shaking arms to feel the walls. The house was completely silent except for the low huffs of his uneven breaths. His fingers wrapped around the knob of the bathroom and he pushed the door open. It felt so unusually cold…
He rubbed the wall until he felt the switch then he flipped it on. He briefly closed his eyes when the room was suddenly washed over in with a bright light. He sighed and leaned against the bathroom sink in exhaustion. He was just tired. That's all this was. He was overworked and tired.
Kurapika splashed some warm water over his face and then stared blankly at his dripping reflection. Another voice spoke softly from behind him.
"You're grumpy and tired, son." It was his dad's voice. "Come on. It's nap time."
Kurapika glanced over his shoulder only for a second then looked back into the mirror. Only this time, he saw his father smiling back at him where his reflection should have been.
"After your nap we can go to the zoo." His dad said blissfully through the mirror. "But you have to sleep first. You don't want to be cranky while you're there."
Kurapika's vision blurred with tears as he carefully reached up to touch his father's face.
The small boy was covered in blood as he brought up his shining eyes and looked towards the men. His lips trembled and his hands gently stroked Jin's cold cheek.
'My daddy…' Kurapika whimpered.
"Daddy…"
The reflection of his father become distorted and his fatherly smile melted off his face with the rest of his skin and flesh. It left only the lifeless image of a bloodied skull and bulging eyes. "You let the magic out!" It shrieked.
"Stop it!" Kurapika slammed his fists into the mirror and glass shattered all around him and clattered into the sink and on the tiled floor. His hand was cut and a stream of blood trailed down his wrist.
The young doctor looked down at the fragmented glass at his feet. He could see his own broken reflection staring back at him and he kicked the glass away.
This wasn't happening. This wasn't real. He had to focus. He could do this. He could do this. He just had to analyze the situation, weigh his options, and find a solution. Simple. It was so simple.
Kurapika slowly exhaled as he closed his eyes.
Name: Kurapika Kurta
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Diagnoses: Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) - a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing or witnessing it. Symptoms may include hallucinations, flashbacks, nightmares, and severe anxiety.
He lifted up his injured hand and examined the blood. It was getting all over his clothes. He'd have to-
"What are those!?" The shrill and panicked voice of his father came from the living room. It made Kurapika's heart almost jump.
'Stay here,' His mind told him. 'Don't go in there…'
But his body wasn't listening. Kurapika carefully took a single step to the door and placed his hand on the cold doorknob.
'Don't go in there…' His mind warned again.
Kurapika pulled open the door and was faced with the bleak darkness of his hallway.
Down the hall he could see flickering lights coming from the living room.
Don't go in there.
Kurapika's shoes lightly clicked on the hardwood floor as he silently moved forward.
Don't go in there.
The light from the living room illuminated him as he got closer and closer.
Don't go in there.
"The magic!" His mother's cry sounded so close. He was almost there. "You'll let the magic out!"
Don't go in there.
He stepped inside the living room and held his breath. A horse whisper crawled from the back of his throat and left his slightly parted lips. "No."
His living room was covered in trash. Mountains and mountains of trash. The smell of sour piss and rodent shit wafted his nose and gagged him.
"Pika~"
Kurapika looked around for the source of the voice. "Mother…" He leaned down on his hands and knees, wincing as the familiar feeling of rotten trash squished in-between his fingers.
"Pika~! My sweet Pika."
The doctor stumbled and slipped as he climbed up the piles of garage. He felt the sticky wet mush mash to the front of his clothes and tears stung the corners of his eyes. "Mommy." The lights flickered, and then they turned off leaving Kurapika in the darkness with nothing but a dim candlelight dancing in the distance.
"NO!" Suzuka cried out. "Don't! Please! You'll let the magic out! Bad things will happen!"
"Mommy!" Kurapika scrabbled to his feet and ran to the sound of her voice. In his rush, he slipped in a puddle of something wet and fell into the drenched litter.
"W-what..." He looked down beside him to see what he fell in.
And he screamed.
His father's skin was pale and his eyes were staring lifelessly into Kurapika's. A bloodied knife was lying in Jin's open palm and his wrists were slashed so deep that Kurapika could see the bone peeking from under the squishy pink flesh.
Blood. That's what he slipped in. He was soaking in his father's blood.
"Pika?" His mother's voice sounded so weak. So broken.
Kurapika turned to look behind him with tears streaming down his dirty cheeks. Jin's blood soaked through his clothes and burned his skin.
"Pika…"
His head was spinning when he slowly sat up on his knees. "Mommy?"
His mother was sitting on the floor in front of him holding handfuls of his long blonde hair.
"You cut it…" She looked up at him in horror as she cried. "You let the magic out."
"Mommy…" Kurapika whimpered. "Mommy…"
His mother's form grew darker and the blonde hair in her fingers started to melt away.
Her voice twisted into something monstrous. "You let the magic out…" She liquefied into the trash disappeared from his sight. "You let the magic out…"
Something warm soaked his shirt and he looked down. The cut on his hand was bleeding very heavily as the red liquid gushed out his wound.
Kurapika closed his eyes and pressed his palm to his heart.
He felt a pressure on his legs and opened his eyes.
His father's corpse was laying in his lap and his dead eyes staring into Kurapika's. Blood soaked his lap and stomach as the small blonde opened his mouth in shocked terror.
Jin's mouth was slightly ajar while he raised his hand up to touch Kurapika's face.
"I…I had to get the poison out." He whispered, then he melted in the same fashion that Suzuka had done until there was nothing left.
"Daddy!"
"Shh…" A finger pressed to his lips.
Red candlelight flickered and he was suddenly covered in blood from head to toe. The corpses of his parent's stood silently in front of him.
Kurapika whimpered. His father's slit wrists were dripping blood onto the garbage. His skin was ashen and his eyes were sucked in. The gunshot wounds in his mother's neck and under her eye were oozing pus and her toothy smile was coated in aged blood.
Kurapika was frozen. They didn't say anything to him. They just stared directly into his eyes with big bright smiles plastered on their faces. Their expressions were lifeless as their wounds slowly widened, getting worse.
"S-top..." Kurapika whispered.
His parents still stood unmoved and the wounds on them spread over their bodies getting more grotesque and gruesome.
"Stop it!" Kurapika screamed. But they wouldn't stop. They never stopped! They just stood there smiling at him as they got worse and worse. They didn't even care that they were hurting him!
"Do you want to hear a story?" His mother gurgled out through her teeth.
'Do you… want me to tell you a story?' Suzuka didn't know what to do. She wanted to make it all better.
'Just stop, Mom!' He didn't want a story! He wanted her to tell him that she would change. He wanted her to promise him that she would stop being mentally ill.
"Do you want to hear a story." His mother's corpse repeated.
"I'M SORRY!" Kurapika cried. He was so sorry. He was always so sorry. "I should have protected you better! I should have been more careful! I should have never cut my hair!"
Hot tears fell down his face as he sobbed loudly into his bloodied hands. "I'm so sorry!" His throat hurt from the strain as he screamed to his parents' lifeless smiling faces. "I'M SO SORRY!"
His body was shaking so hard that his teeth rattled. He tugged at his hair while his violent sobs racked his small frame and he rocked on his knees. "Mommy… Daddy," He couldn't breathe. "You must…" He hiccupped and rubbed his face with his dirty bloodied hands. "You must hate me…"
For the first time in his life, Kurapika allowed himself to mourn.
His parents were dead.
They were dead and he bathed in their blood.
There was nothing in the world that could change that.
He was alone. He was all alone. The night he lost his parents was the night he lost himself. It was the night his heart was stolen. And how could he ever be anything when he had a missing piece?
"Pika…" His mother's loving voice made him lift up his head.
She was so beautiful. She was dressed in a plain black dress with her hair pinned in a neat little bun. "Oh Pika…" She leaned over her son and wrapped her arms around him.
"How could we ever hate such a wonderful boy?" Jin asked as he pulled his wife and son in his arms. He was unharmed, wearing a casual suit and he smelled like shaving cream.
Kurapika leaned into their hugs and sobbed. As he cried, his felt his mother gently wipe away his tears.
"I'm…" Kurapika's small voice was quaking and his body shook under the touches of his parents. "I'm broken without you."
"It's okay to be broken." Jin's soft voice filled the air and he slowly started to disappear. The garbage around them was fading as well and Kurapika reached out to grab his father's hand.
"Wait." He pleaded. "Please don't go."
Suzuka's light laugh danced around the room as she held her husband's hand and waved goodbye to her son. Her nice clothes were replaced by the same filthy ones Kurapika had seen her wear most of his life. "Bye, Pika." She sang. "Bye, bye."
"No!" Kurapika tried to dive at his parents and wrap his arms around their waists but they vanished in his arms leaving him alone and miserable. "I need you…"
He was broken. Broken and alone.
^.~
The days passed slowly and yet they still managed to blur into each other in one long delirious nightmare. The minutes passed in hours, and the hours in days. Each second was more agonizingly lonely than the last. Time was unkind in its dark hollow torment and fate seemed to be even crueler. Death swooping down and cloaking him in its delicate chilly veil would have been sanctioning.
Hisoka's hands were pressed over his bowed head, shielding his face from the world. He was sitting in the corner of the dark confinement with his knees brought to his chest. His breathing was steady and soft and he had goosebumps over his skin.
He heard familiar footsteps approaching but he did not react. There was no point in fighting anymore.
"Good afternoon." Dr. Franklin Gun's smile drew over his face like the slithering body of a snake. "I have a special treat for you today."
Hisoka didn't move.
"Aw, come now." The very large burly man said through his grin. "Don't be like that. Look at me."
The unresponsive redhead was so still that Franklin almost doubted if he was heard.
"I said look at me!" He slammed his large fist over the glass as he barked out the command. Then, ever so slowly, Hisoka lifted his head and stared into the eyes of the doctor in front of him. His expression was blank and lifeless, like his soul had been stolen from him.
"That's better." Franklin raised his arm in the air for Hisoka to see what he was holding. It was a tin bucket filled with soapy water. It sloshed off the sides as the large man moved to the door. "You're dirty." He said as he typed in the key code and stepped inside.
Hisoka lazily eyed the bucket of soapy water then looked to Franklin.
"Ahhh, but see." Franklin bent on the knees so he was eye level with the redhead. "First, your meds. Can't miss a dose today." He put the bucket on the ground beside him and started digging through his pockets. "I heard you already had your injection this morning so, lucky for you, I only brought the pills." He pulled out three heavy pills from his pocket and held them out to the redhead.
Hisoka frowned but took the medicine. He looked down at the pills in his hand in distain. Though the injections were far more painful, the pills brought on very unpleasant emotions. The very first time Franklin gave them to Hisoka, he immediately recognized them.
Machi carefully dropped all three pills into the redhead's mouth then took a few steps back.
Hisoka only coughed at first, reflexively trying to remove the choking hazards from his throat, but Uvogin quickly clamped his large hand over the mute's mouth.
He used to take these before he lost his memory. It made him wonder if he was a mentally ill patient before he met Kurapika. What else would explain how he recognized the meds he was given?
"Hurry up." Franklin ordered. "Unless you want me to feed them to you."
Hisoka slowly brought his hands to his mouth and swallowed the pills, careful to do it one by one so he didn't choke. Then he silently opened his mouth to show that they were gone.
Franklin responded by dipping his hand in the bucket. "You're dirty." He repeated his earlier statement. "I get the pleasure of giving you a sponge bath."
Hisoka raised a questioning brow, though he didn't say anything. A sponge bath coming from Franklin was very suspect.
The doctor lifted his hand out the water and was clutching a stainless steel wire scrubber. "You're dirty." He said again.
Hisoka's eyes narrowed at the little silver thing. The 'sponge' that Franklin was going to clean him with was a little bundle of jagged metal wires tangled together in an ugly messy ball.
Franklin reached over and roughly grabbed Hisoka by the arm. His grip was tight and Hisoka could feel the strain reach his bones. He scowled and yanked his arm away from the larger man. He was not going to let Franklin anywhere near him with that.
"You stupid fuckin-" Franklin grabbed a fistful and Hisoka's hair and yanked him closer. Hisoka tried to pull away but the action only made Franklin pull at his hair harder. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" Franklin growled through clenched teeth. "You should be grateful that I'm doing this for you. I don't see Dr. Kurta around here being as kind as me."
At the mention of Kurapika, Hisoka glared at the man in front of him. His neck was craned from the doctor's hold and he spoke a low warning. "Don't."
Franklin scowled. "You're pretty loyal for someone who's been abandoned. Fuckin idiot. That's probably why he left in the fir-"
Angrily Hisoka lifted his arms to strike Franklin but he was stopped by his chains. Instead he slammed his forehead into the larger man's mouth.
Franklin let go of Hisoka and brought his huge hand to his bleeding gums. He ran his tongue over his teeth and spat out a mouthful of blood.
When he head-butt the doctor, Franklin's tooth cut a small wound on Hisoka's forehead and the blood was already trickling down around Hisoka's eyebrow. He slumped against the wall and his chains softly rattled with his movement. The blow he gave himself to the head stunned him and he felt dizzy from the impact.
"Son of a bitch…" Franklin grabbed Hisoka's hair again and aggressively slammed his head into the stone wall. "You're going to pay for that."
Hisoka's teeth rattled as his head made contact with the cement and he tried to blink away pain. The back of his skull was throbbing and there was blood on the wall from his injury.
"You're dirty." The big man repeated. He reached down and picked up the steel scrubber again. Then he ripped the front of Hisoka's shirt and the struggling redhead brought his knee up to Franklin's chin.
The doctor's teeth smashed together over his tongue and he howled in pain. "Fuck!"
Suddenly, Hisoka felt a heavy fist slam into his stomach. He instantly dropped to his knees and coughed up blood.
Franklin used this opportunity to pin Hisoka down on his stomach. Blood dripped around Hisoka's eye and out his mouth as his cheek was pressed roughly onto the cold floor. He painfully groaned when he felt the pressure of Franklin's weight on his back. The larger man was sitting on top of him to keep him still.
Franklin held the scrubber tightly in his hand as he lathered it in soap. With his free hand he ripped off the remains of the redhead's tattered shirt and threw it to the side. "Hold still." He told his struggling patient. He pressed the scrubber on Hisoka's bare skin and with as much force as he could muster, he started to scrub Hisoka's back.
Hisoka's scream echoed throughout the entire hall. It was throaty and broken and it sounded like it belonged to a wounded animal. It clawed out the back of his throat and escaped his mouth in a vicious roar.
But the sound only encouraged Franklin's actions as he continued to clean the redhead. The scrubber tore through Hisoka's skin leaving cruel hideous marks all down his back. The bubbly soap was red as it blended with the thick oozing blood seeping out the raw wounds.
Hisoka grabbed onto his chains and his muscles flexed as he screamed in writhing pain. The bloody soap bubbles ran over his sides and onto the floor. He yelled out as he felt the sharp metal dig into his skin and rip apart his flesh. Unwanted images and memories began to flood his mind as the world seemed to darken.
The lights on the train flickered as it halted to its first stop. This made Hisoka hastily pull Kurapika in his lap and bury his nose in the smaller male's chest.
Hisoka was frightened, but not of the subway train. He was frightened of himself.
The young doctor tentatively wrapped his arms around the mute's neck and rested his chin on top of a mound of soft red hair. "It'll be okay." He whispered, gently rubbing the nerved-wracked male's back. "I'm right here."
"I'm just cleaning you." Franklin said as he worked on the back of Hisoka's neck. "I'm just cleaning you."
Hisoka could hear the tearing sound of his flesh being pulled apart. It rang in his ears over and over as Franklin scrubbed his bloodied, damaged body.
He was alone.
No one would hear his screams.
No one would miss his existence.
He was a nothing.
Nothing but a monster.
Forgotten instincts suddenly flooded his mind and Hisoka's eyes faded away. His screaming died down and he felt nothing. No agony. No pain. Nothing. Every nerve in his body felt charged with power and adrenaline.
Hisoka was gone. He was replaced by a beast who only saw twisted rage and bloodlust.
Seeing Hisoka's body suddenly go still, Franklin wondered if the redhead had passed out from pain. He stopped his scrubbing and leaned over to look at the redhead.
"Wha-" Franklin's heart lurched in his chest as his gaze landed on the redhead's face. Hisoka was staring back at him with a large clownish grin. Blood trickled out the side of his mouth and his golden eyes glinted with a sinister perverse delight.
The doctor found himself being thrown hard to the ground when Hisoka quickly flipped onto his back. He landed on his stomach and felt the air leave his lungs in a 'oof'.
Hisoka mindlessly sat up and looked down at his chains. In a quick snap he yanked the iron links off the ground and they broke in a loud 'clink'.
"S-shit." Franklin's arms shook as he tried to sit up but Hisoka crashed his foot over the doctor's skull, knocking him right back on the ground. The larger man's head slammed against the floor rattling his brain.
Hisoka moved so his head was bent over Franklin's. His red hair fell over his shoulders and framed his face. Slowly, he brought his finger to his lips and breathed out a soft, "Shh." Yes. This was what monsters did. This was what he was created to do. This was all he could ever be.
He wrapped the heavy iron chains around Franklin's neck and then rested his cheek on top of the struggling doctor's head.
Gurgled noises exited Franklin's lips as he violently kicked his legs and grasped at the chains around his throat. The ground was wet from soapy water and blood. Franklin's kicking splashed that mess all over the redhead's face.
Hisoka tightened the chains and ignored his thrashing around. "I'm just hugging you." He whispered lovingly. "I'm just hugging you."
Franklin's eyes were red as they budged out their sockets. His lips were turning a light shade of purple that Hisoka thought looked like a pretty color. "Play with me." Hisoka cooed.
Franklin's neck bled around the chains as they dug deeper into his flesh. His lips swelled and his tongue lazily flapped out his mouth.
Hisoka was visibly bored with the experience and he gave the doctor a disappointed stare. "You're not trying very hard." He sighed. He cupped his hand under the larger man's chin and lightly tsked. Then with a quick flick of the wrist, he twisted Franklin's head all the way around. The cracking sound of the doctor's neck breaking splintered around the room and Franklin slumped lifelessly in the redhead's lap.
Hisoka stared down at the corpse on top of him. He felt so relieved. Like a drug addict that had finally got their hands on their fix. Slowly, he felt his bloodlust fade away.
He shook away the hazy blanket that was covering him, practically feeling it roll off his shoulders. The pain from his wounds slammed into him with so much force that he crouched over and groaned.
The room started to spin and he felt his consciousness starting to escape him. Hisoka swayed and then fell onto the ground. He landed in a puddle of bloodied soap bubbles and was covered in a thick layer of filth.
Franklin's head on his legs was heavy and it pained his already sore muscles.
He trembled.
He wanted to rub his arms for warmth but was too weak to move.
Was this death?
Please. Please let this be death.
Hisoka closed his eyes and prayed that he would soon breathe his last breath.
He was ready to die.
He was broken. Broken and alone.
Author's Note: OOOHHH my shit, guys! You know what I JUST now noticed after some months? In chapter six I kept calling the guy Hisoka killed "Togari" when in fact Hisoka killed "Togari" already in chapter four. I meant to call chapter six "Togari" by the name of "Kastro" but I kept forgetting and I called him "Togari" instead. I'm surprised none of you mentioned it like, "Why did Hisoka kill a Togari in chapter 4 and 6?" Maybe no one noticed. I hope no one noticed. Lol. I'll just say no one noticed. Either way it's fixed now!
Sorry it took me so long to update. I'll try not to take this long again, I promise. School shit and what have you. Plus, I have a lot of medical issues that keep putting me down and making me feel all sick and shit. I have to set an appointment for surgery about removing a lung tumor since I keep getting hospitalized. BUUUUUTTT~ I have to say, writing this story does lift my spirits. And I really enjoy reading all the nice reviews. I can't even tell you how happy they make me feel. Well I could but I would have to write two pages worth of intense emotions that would borderline crazed rambles and heartfelt tributes. Lol. Just know that your reviews are a big reason why I keep this up and they really do make me feel good. I find myself rereading them over and over when I'm feeling down.
Until next time!
