Chapter 11: THE ART OF FEAR (part three)
Day Seven
"It's something I've been meaning to try." The man said casually, holding up an aluminum case. The boy looks at him with trepidation. He doesn't say anything, hasn't said anything in quite a while, knowing at this point that anything he said would only be brushed aside or punished severely.
The man places the case on the ground and fiddles with it away from the boy's peripheral vision. The boy wished he could be swallowed up by the walls that contained him. His eyes stayed on the man, wary and tired. He wonders if this will be quick, hopes that it will be painless at least.
"Aren't you little bit curious, Shoyo?" The man asks. Lifting his hand, he produces a thin metal rod with a circular hoop connected to it. The boy remains quiet, not knowing what it was being presented before him. "Come now, a healthy boy like you should want to know," He places the rod between his teeth, a mad glint in his eyes, before swaying it playfully. "There's an allure to it isn't there?"
Again he is met with silence. The man doesn't mind though, placing the contraption back in its case.
"At any rate, you must be starved." He continues his one sided conversation. "Let's eat."
/Haikyuu/
"Say it."
The boy sobbed.
The boy begged.
"Say it."
It felt like drowning.
"I- like...- "
It felt like dying.
Day Eight
He held his left hand up towards the artificial light, noting the slight tremble that would never truly go away, no matter how much his captor has fed him, or how much he has slept. The tremble would still be there. His vision would sometimes go blurry after staring at the aforementioned hand for so long, and his mind would wander away.
The silence was deafening.
The boy notes that the man returns at odd intervals, giving the boy something to anticipate besides the constant light and empty silence. It is odd, but the boy is anxious for the man to return. At least then he'll know time is moving, and he still exists within this world.
Maybe , a faint whisper rose within the boy, maybe the man wasn't so bad, not really, not anymore. He stopped treating the boy so harshly, started being more generous with the portion sizes of his food. The food tasted good as well, and the baths were warm and inviting.
Yeah, it wasn't so bad anymore.
The boy was starting to become more honest with himself. It became easier to bring him to climax, to coax the moans from his mouth. This was no surprise though, the man had always known what existed within the boy, his internal wants and needs. Knew it in the way the boy's body bent and twitched, in the way his eyes turned hazy within minutes of their sexual activities.
He wanted the boy to know it too.
"Chin up, Shoyo," The man said, directing the boy to look at himself in the mirror placed before them. He wanted the boy to see his expression, see his leaking member, and know exactly why the man feels the way he does. The boy doesn't comment on it, merely mewls softly as the man started thrusting once again. The man smiles at their sinful image, whispers to the smaller boy , "and smile for the camera."
Day Nine
His memory befuddles him. He doesn't remember most of their sexual explorations, doesn't remember if he has eaten recently or not. Sometimes the boy would wake from his slumber, notice that the man was missing, and then begins sobbing quietly. After a minute or so, the boy would usually stop, blink as though he can't quite comprehend what is happening before going back to sleep.
At some point, the man had coaxed the boy to relax with him after one of their more rigorous sexual acts. The boy, still coated in sweat and semen, laid on the man's thigh.
"I especially like this one," the man comments at a scene where the boy was giving him head. The boy looks towards the screen of the television, seeing nothing at all.
Day Ten
Something was different.
Though the room still felt the same, and the constant void within the boy was ever present, he felt something amiss. It had been in the way the man was quiet -not like his usual cheerful self- in the way he looked at the boy with remorse. After sorting through the boxes, the man finally latches himself onto the boy, cradles him within his arms like a small child. In their seated position the room looked large and looming.
"I'm sad, Shoyo." The man lamented, nuzzling where the boy's shoulder and neck met. Then he sighed and looked upwards, staring at nothing at all.
The boy looked towards the grown man, such a curious creature. His hair was swept to one side, his eyes slightly slanted, but not unappealing. The boy absentmindedly wondered what might've happened to this man to shape him into what he is today. The line of thought was quick to vanish though, replaced with the distinct feeling of ragged fatigue. The boy leaned his weight towards the man, his arms felt heavy, his insides cold. He can't remember a time where he felt any different.
The man hugged him tighter, moaning his woes; that the world was cruel and imperfect, that life was difficult on the best days, and that since he had tried so hard to be normal, doesn't he deserved a break once in a while? The man might've shed a few tears, but the boy couldn't be sure.
They stayed in that position for a long while.
When the boy's eyes had started drooping slightly, the man finally shifted his weight and got on his feet, his face showing sad determination. He grabbed what he had brought down with him moments ago and presented it to the boy, as though it was an offering of some kind. The boy looked at him with dead eyes, and opened the plastic bag that contained a bottle of milk. Without another word from the man, the boy placed the lid to his lips, drinking its contents in one go.
The liquid was tinged with bitter aftertaste.
The man returned to his former position, and another litany of sorrows escaped him, lulling the tired boy into a trance-like state.
His eyes dimmed, his pulse slowed down.
The world disappeared.
/Haikyuu/
"..ke up... h..." The world was warm, a hand was gripping his left arm too tightly. He opened his eyes blearily.
The light above was artificial.
Nothing had changed. The world was stagnant.
And then a woman's face appeared before him, aged and scowling.
"Don't just sleep on people's porch boy!" The boy jerked away, his heartbeat jack-rabbited so fast he could hear it beating in his ears. He moved too quickly, his balance failing and then he finds himself toppling over, falling gracelessly onto the ground.
The wood beneath his hands felt rough and warm. The boy opened his mouth, a strangled sound coming out.
"Hey! Are you okay boy?" The woman said. The boy looked around him, seeing the wooden chair he fell off, the potted plants growing an assortment of flowers. Feel the hot breeze grazing his skin.
He must be dreaming. His psyche must've finally caved and had created a surreal hallucination that felt too damn real. A manic thought crossed his mind, that he was now insane and broken, that the world would continue to spin without him being a part of it anymore.
Then his ears adjusted.
And a jumble of sounds reached his ears, that of crickets, of cars, of old men chattering started to fill the void.
His eyes looked down to see his hands once more. Moved it experimentally, felt his nails scraping the wood.
"Hey!" He turns to look at the woman, her face a picture of worry and surprise, of emotions he had forgotten existed-
His throat clenched,
His vision blurred.
And then the floodgates opened.
Hiccupping through his sobs, he grabbed at the woman, grabbed her as if his life depended on it.
.
Time started moving again.
A/N: , if anyone noticed the random dot in the middle of nowhere... well.. when you're so desperate for that one line break but ff . net refuses to oblige xD
p.s in search of a beta-reader. lemme know if you're interested? xoxo
