Amber and Emerald: Killer and Prey

Chapter 14

Deranged Devil

Well now. Fitting that I should update this particular fic on Halloween, is it not? :D I hope you can forgive me for the long wait. I've had a lot of homework and stuff, high school sucks. (OH YEAH! I'm 14 now! :) My birthday was at the beginning of the month!)

So anyway, what're you guys doing for Halloween? My friends and I are dressing up as The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I'm Janet. :D Anyone seen that movie? (The Glee episode DOES NOT count as seeing the movie.) If you haven't . . . I highly suggest it. :D Watch it as your Halloween special. XD

Again, PLEASE FORGIVE ME for the long update wait. I hope, as always, that this chapter will make up for it. *heart* Enjoy!

Sakura's heart hammered against her chest and her head pounded with a headache. She leaned over the railing of the spiralling staircase, feeling nauseous, her hands sweating and slipping on the metal rail. There was a metallic taste in her mouth that she realized was fear.

She had heard a crash a few moments before and there hadn't been any noise since. She'd never been so afraid in her entire life, even when she had been kidnapped previously. She knew it was because Syaoran's life was also on the line this time.

She wanted to call out to Syaoran, make sure he was okay, but she knew she couldn't.

She sucked in a deep breath and started down the stairs. Her feet trembled as she slowly descended, praying that Syaoran was all right.

Finally she made it to the bottom. She looked around in the direction the two men had rolled over to and slowly made her way over. She saw that a door with angels carved into it had been thrown open. There was a colder air coming from it, and a disturbing scent also wafted from it. She swallowed and moved closer. As she did so, she noticed the angels' wings were black and their faces were contorted into vicious smiles, pointed fangs protruding from their lips. A shiver bolted down Sakura's spine and she looked away from the door, turning her head to the stairs leading down.

Tentatively, she placed one foot down on the first damp, wooden stair. Then another. The passage was narrow and the walls were cement. It was pitch black save for a small light at the end of the stairs.

She heard a noise, and her heart started to go into overdrive. She could feel the sudden adrenaline in her veins, and her steps began to quicken. Suddenly she was at the bottom, the freezing concrete floor making her feet cold.

She breathed out, and the sound seemed to echo around her, eerily quiet. The light was coming from somewhere to her right. She stuck her hands out in front of her to stop herself from hitting anything in the dim light and started forward again slowly.

Sakura's palms started to sweat again when she reached the light. It was just a light bulb with a simple plastic shade around it. It lit the area around it only well enough to see the trap door beneath it. She took a deep breath and stooped to open it. Only as she gripped the handle did she notice the warm, sticky liquid trailing along the floor to the handle. She nearly fainted when she looked at her hands, but gathered herself again quickly. Her fingers trembled now, and she fumbled as she tried to open the trapdoor.

A piercing shriek ripped from her mouth when a hand lay gently down on her shoulder. She looked behind her and Ayumu was bending over her with a friendly, innocent smile. She caught her breath.

"Well, well, Sakura-chan, you are a brave one," he said with a chuckle. He shook his head and pushed his hand through his dark hair. "Fancy meeting you here. I was just about to get you and drag you down here myself." He flashed her a sunny smile before he shot his arm around her waist and pulled her away from the trapdoor. She screamed again and tried in vain to get away.

Ayumu threw open the door and then shoved her in. She made a gasping noise as her back slammed against a ladder rung. Her spine went numb as she fell through the air into darkness until suddenly she hit the cement floor. Her head cracked against it and she heard a crunch from somewhere on her body. Pain flared in her left elbow and wrist, along with her hip. She gulped in a breath and then rasped out a shout of agony. She attempted to move her left arm and push herself off the floor but a burning blaze went through her whole arm and starbursts of pain erupted behind her eyes. She collapsed again, helpless.

She heard footsteps echoing off the metal ladder, then gentle steps on the concrete. Suddenly there was light. It blinded Sakura. It was one of those artificial looking, too bright, too white lights that flickered and made a constant buzzing sound. She dragged her eyes up to scan her surroundings.

The floor was bare cement and the walls were lined with tall white refrigerators. A cabinet sat in the far corner of the room. And in the centre, Syaoran sat bound to a chair. His head hung over his chest and blood caked the side of his face, along with the rest of his body. She cried out when she saw him, her heart aching along with the rest of her body.

Ayumu stepped into her view, brandishing an axe stained with blood, fresh and old. He smiled at it, and then poked the end of it against Syaoran's head. It dangled and Syaoran remained motionless. Tears welled up in Sakura's eyes. "Stop that," she croaked.

He looked over at her, amusement glowing his eyes. "You would tell me what to do in a situation like this?"

"Please . . . don't hurt him," she pleaded, realizing how ridiculous she sounded as she glanced back at Syaoran's bloodied figure.

"Oh?" Ayumu said, hauling the axe over his shoulder as he turned to her. "But I can hurt you?"

She opened her mouth to say something but she couldn't. She forced back her tears. She would not give him the satisfaction of her crying.

He stepped towards her, and then crouched down. He lifted her chin up with his finger so their gaze was level. His eyes burned with madness.

"Tsk," he cooed, shaking his head. "Perhaps it wouldn't have come to this if you hadn't looked so much like Itsumi."

"Who . . . who is Itsumi?" she gasped in anguish; the movement of his pulling her head had created a fire of pain in her neck.

He made a strange sound in his throat. "She . . . she had nice mousy hair like yours. Soft skin like yours. An innocent expression like yours. Smooth pink lips like yours." He ran his thumb gently across her lips. "And . . . she had those huge, emerald eyes." His grip on her chin tightened. He whispered, "So captivating."

Sakura breathed out, and it came out as a whimper.

"Itsumi . . . ." he muttered.

His head plunged forward and his lips crashed against hers. Pain exploded inside her head. He wrapped his fingers around her shoulders hard. Her left arm screamed in agony. She couldn't take it—she bit his lip and he retreated quickly, blood dribbling down his chin. He wiped it away and stood abruptly. He glared at her and then swept over to the ladder. He climbed up and disappeared.

The pain was beginning to subside as the adrenaline kicked in. She hauled herself to her feet, avoiding her left arm and putting too much weight on her right hip. She limped slowly and awkwardly over to Syaoran. She reached her right arm out to lift his head up. His eyes were open to blank slits. She felt a lump form in her throat and nausea roil in her stomach.

She looked around. Maybe something in the fridges or the cabinet would be of some help.

She limped over to the nearest fridge and pulled the door open with difficulty. A stench hit her nose and she fainted as soon as she saw what was in the refrigerator—or, as she had realized the hard way, the freezer.

Luckily she woke again only moments later. She didn't want to leave any evidence that she'd been snooping and lurched forward to vomit in the freezer.

A corpse had been stuffed in the appliance. Its skin was leathery and its hair was in clumps. The arm was broken at an odd angle. Strangely enough, it was a male corpse, not a female.

Sakura swiftly slammed the door shut. That was something I can't un-see, she thought miserably. She felt like being sick again but she had to do something for Syaoran. She looked around again. Were all of these fridges filled with . . . ?

She took a deep breath and made her way back over to Syaoran. She looked over him again, dread washing over her. She inspected his head, carefully peeling hair either damp with blood or crusted with it away from the wound. She let out a breath of relief when she saw the wound was shallow, though long and continually bleeding.

Thinking back to all of the movies she'd ever seen, she tore a piece of her sleeve off with some effort and pushed it against his head wound. It immediately soaked with red and anxiety built in her as she realized he needed a doctor, fast.

She went back to the freezer and scratched the artificial ice the lined the sides off into her hands. When she returned to Syaoran, she pressed them against his head and his chest in a pathetic hope that he would wake up.

Her heart almost stopped she felt hands wrap around her waist. She turned her head slowly to see Ayumu standing behind her. He pulled her closer to him, trapping her against his body.

"Oh, Itsumi," he murmured into her hair. Sakura trembled uncontrollably in his arms, her fear of the madman rising. Suddenly his grip on her tightened. She let out a cry of pain as his fingers clamped around her left elbow. "You . . . you've been a bad girl, Itsumi!"

He threw her aside with anger and force. She slammed into the ladder, tangling into the rungs. Something in her spine snapped and the breath left her as she tried to cry out. Not only could she not feel her spine now, but she couldn't feel her hips or part of her legs either. It frightened her.

She tried to get herself out of the ladder, but when she leaned forward pain seared through her left arm and shoulders and she quickly jumped back.

"Itsumi . . . ." Ayumu knelt in front of her and cupped his hands on her face. Before Sakura could register what was happening his lips were on hers.

"Hey!"

Syaoran's voice made Sakura jump in surprise.

"Get off her," he continued in a threatening tone. Sakura tried to look at him but she couldn't see past Ayumu.

Ayumu's lips parted slowly, and he turned to face the other man with the same low speed. Their eyes locked, Ayumu's dark and cold, Syaoran's fiery and determined. Both angry. Hateful. And sad.

Sakura knew it must have hurt them both to have to turn on each other after being together for so long. She also knew it was inevitable. It had to happen.

Ayumu stood up. He made his way over to Syaoran and stopped in front of him. Ayumu reached his hand out and touched Syaoran's hair lightly. His fingers moved down to the make-shift bandage Sakura had placed over the wound. He turned his head sharply back to face her. A shiver shot down her spine and she swallowed hard.

After a glare that lasted a moment but hateful enough to last a century, Ayumu turned back to Syaoran and tore the bandage off. Sakura winced and felt her panic growing. He was going to hurt Syaoran . . . he was going to kill Syaoran! She had to help . . . somehow . . .

She wriggled and pulled, trying to get herself free. The pain increased in her arms, across her shoulders, up her neck . . .

Eventually she couldn't take it anymore. Against her will, she passed out from the pain.

Syaoran wasn't sure what to think, or how to react. He was absolutely certain that Ayumu's mind had snapped.

The dark-haired man was cleaning Syaoran's wounds, and bandaging them. After washing them out with water, he was putting something else on them; he assumed it was something disinfecting, maybe rubbing alcohol, although it was thick, as it stung immensely. Ayumu had a light-hearted expression, a smile, but his eyes were pure madness. Neither said a word; Ayumu would chuckle and shake his head while he worked, as if to say, Oh, Syaoran, you've gotten into trouble again, you silly boy.

Syaoran couldn't do much but sit, though. His hands were tied and his fingers were cut and bloodied. His legs weren't tied but they were wounded and hadn't yet been cleaned. He figured he'd wait until Ayumu had cleaned all of his injuries and maybe explained things to him before he'd make his escape—or, if necessary, attack—with Sakura.

After a few more unsettling moments, Ayumu began to wash Syaoran's leg wounds. Then Ayumu suddenly had tears streaking down his cheeks. Syaoran was bewildered.

"A-Ayumu?" he asked cautiously.

Ayumu wiped his eyes gingerly with his long fingers and chuckled. "I'm sorry, Syaoran-kun. It's just . . . I've had such fun with you. We got along so well together, our work was perfection . . ." He sniffled and looked at the ground. "Although I should have expected this. It's happened before. Why, this man here, Kyouta-chan . . ." Ayumu wandered over to the freezer on the left side of the room. Syaoran's eyes followed him, a sense of horror and dread reeling in his stomach.

Ayumu threw the door to the freezer open. Nausea roiled in Syaoran's stomach and a cold sweat broke out over his skin, but he stayed composed. He'd seen more corpses in his lifetime than anyone should ever have had to see. The only problem with this one was that it had been dead for a long time.

Ayumu reached out and stroked the corpse's cheek tenderly. "Kyouta . . . he was with me for two years. Probably the longest out of all of them. But Kyouta made the mistake of bringing me Itsumi."

Syaoran made sure his voice was level and strong. "Who was Itsumi, Ayumu-chan, if you don't mind my asking?" Perhaps he could make Ayumu feel as if this were just a normal day and no one had to die.

Ayumu turned and shot an angry look at Syaoran. But the anger melted into anguish. "I loved her, Syao-chan. I loved her so much."

Syaoran remembered what he had wondered days ago; had Ayumu fallen in love?

Had he . . . killed his love?

Ayumu pointed at Sakura's limp form. "This girl is the spitting image of Itsumi, Syao-chan. I just can't handle it."

Syaoran's heart sank. "You mean to . . . kill her."

Ayumu nodded. If Syaoran hadn't known better he'd have thought Ayumu was perfectly sane. But Syaoran did know better. "I'm sorry, Syaoran. I know you really liked her."

Don't use past tense already, Syaoran thought. It isn't over yet.

Ayumu shut the door. "I hoped you'd never have to see this, Syaoran, but unfortunately you have."

The tears were streaking down Ayumu's face again. He looked like an ethereal angel.

He was actually a deranged devil.

"Syaoran, I can honestly say I've had the most fun with you. And that's why . . . I'm going to end it all here. All of it," he said.

Ayumu picked up the bucket of thick rubbing alcohol and splashed it around the room. Then he kicked it over so it just leaked across the floor.

Syaoran's heart nearly stopped when Ayumu drew a match from his back pocket. As he lit it, he shot Syaoran an apologetic look.

A realization washed over Syaoran.

It wasn't rubbing alcohol.

It was gasoline.

LES GASP! Ayumu wants to set everything and everyone on FIRE! MADMAN! MADMAN! :D Mwahaha. I hope you liked this chapter. It took FOREVER to write, I know, and I'm really, really sorry. But it seems fitting that it would be updated on Halloween, though, doesn't it? :) I know it seems weird that Syaoran would mistake gasoline for rubbing alcohol . . . but I put THICK rubbing alcohol. :D I just didn't want to give it away that it was gasoline, okay!

Anyways, please REVIEW, and have a HAPPY HALLOWEEN!