By. Bento Box
09/22/01
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The crisp, frigid air nipped at his flesh. The thin mesh shirt he wore did absolutely nothing to protect his delicate skin against the cold. He reveled in it.
A harsh wind struck him in the face and his hair was blown back harshly, the tangled locks flaring out around him wildly.
He didn't know where he was walking to, and in the dead silence of the street, he had no idea if he was even awake. It was as if he were in a hazy dream, the lightness of his body, the disembodied feeling of him putting one foot forward, and then the other, and again and again until they halted on their own. The dark head rose, and the prickle along his arms seemed to shake him from of his out of body feeling.
Goosebumps were now prominent all along the too pale skin. He ran a his tongue over his dry lips, and a faint copper taste still lingered there.
He turned slightly, and shivered. What the hell was he doing here?
The 'here' in question happened to be a church. Farfarello would have a heart attack and possibly ATTACK him if he had known Nagi was on the dreaded holy grounds of Him.
Around and around his thoughts went, but they always seemed to contain something of Farfarello. An empty smile stretched his face almost agonizingly, and he wondered yet again at his incoherent train of thoughts.
Perhaps the madman was rubbing off on him?
He chortled quietly to himself. The 'innocent' young boy slowly going insane. The childlike features twisting in insane glee. Maybe he should start running around licking his keyboard exclaiming, "STUPIDITY HURTS BILL GATES!"
The thought alone was amusing, but with the image and dialogue added in, he soon errupted into an almost hyseterical laughter. The laughter in the empty setting wasn't frightening, but the hysteria that laced them were. Tears, he didn't know what of, ran down his cheeks in hot streaks and his stomach clenched in pain from the now hysterical laughter.
He didn't know how, but he ended up on his knees and he could feel the bruises beginning to form beneath them.
"God is screaming right now."
The quiet voice rang like a hollow bell. Nagi could feel another bout of hysterical laughter bubble up in his throat. "But he's not the only one screaming."
The urge to laugh was cut neatly in half and Nagi's head jerked up to meet the single catlike eye.
"God is crying," the voice continued, "but he's not the only one crying."
Nagi felt the bizarre hysterical barrier begin to break and form into something else. His lower lip trembled.
"God is in so much pain, but...." Nagi's hands clenched, and the familiar dull stinging in his eyes returned. "..he is not the only one in pain."
Nagi unclenched his hands and he felt the desperation and fear fade away completely into something more uncontrollable.
"SHUT UP! JUST FUCKING SHUT UP!!!"
His scream was more bitter than the winds that now lashed out around his fallen form and the silent man before him.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"God is hurt."
"DAMNIT!!!"
The tears came fast and furious.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?! SHUT! THE! FUCK! UP!!!!!!"
"Another hurts more."
A memory assailed him, and he cried out in vain against it.
---
"Are you screaming now little boy? Are you crying? Are you in pain? Are you hurting now, litle boy? Sweet, sweet little boy."
The young boy's tears continued to trickle out although unbidden and unconsciously.
"What's the matter little boy?" A hand stroked the silky, blood matted hair. "Are you broken now? Hm? Are you a broken little doll now?"
The pain had dulled into a far-off throb long ago, but it was still there festering upon his basic emotions and feelings that was a curse of being human. The ability to feel the pain based on pure, natural instinct.
Something that couldn't be broken or torn away.
"Such a sweet boy, so obediant and polite." The hand that was stroking the hair slowly entangled themselves between the locks.
'But we've only just begun haven't we?" The grip in the hair tightened and a distant jolt of pain registered in his battered brain. He senses were reeling.
"Oh yes, the fun has only begun!"
The grip was now tearing at him, clawing and jerking his head upwards and the torture began once more, becoming the shaping of who the small boy would become.
---
"God's tears are raining down upon us."
As if the heavens agreed with his words, rain began to pelt downwards around him. First one, then two, and then three, and then more and more until the drops were thundering against the icy pavement.
"But another's tears flood the world."
Nagi's rage had dissipated along with the whispering memory. It was replaced by a numbing emptiness that filled his entire body, until he felt like a shell covering something dead inside. He felt so tired now.
A cold hand stroked his cheek and his eyes fluttered open to find the Irishman directly in front of him.
"The pain of others hurts God, but this one's pain hurts another."
Nagi leaned into the hand, his eyes closing against the sight of the bleach-haired man standing over him, like some poetic fallen angel.
A wet rustle, and he felt lithe arms wrap around him. "Never has there been such pain. God is dying slowly."
He could hear the slow beating of the heart against his ear, the deep beat lulling him into a different kind of numbness. His head was burrowed under the chin, touching the neck, against the chest with the scarred heart.
"God hurts."
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Author's Notes: o.O I have no clue where all of this is coming from. Excuse the major angst/OOCness of the characters. Please don't flame me for this. x_x And also for the lack of Farfie's missing accent. ;P I don't do the whole Irish-accent thing very well, and I'd rather not deform and abuse the beauty of it by butchering it with my lame attempts of imitation. ;^^
Italics indicates flashbacks or bizarre mental voices; normal text indicates present tense or memories.
