1 Ephemeral Green
Chapter 10 - The End of the Road
« D-d-don't… do it » Gushoshin stammered helplessly, squirming in the insane one's vice-like grip. Five fingers were curled up around his arm, sharp nails digging into the teenager's skin, breaking its perfection.
« You were created by God » Farfello accused, raising the knife in the air.
« So were you » the sandy-haired one retorted, admirably witty. He could have said anything else… anything. Because this angered the agressor to no end. He found the knife scraping against his throath, and his eyes, reddened by lack of sleep, widened as he stared at what he thoughs was death.
« I really think I'll have lots of fun with you.. boy » He wouldn't kill him. Not right now. He just had to play for a while. Play. He liked that.
Gush' struggled, a light whimper escaping him. Why..? why wouldn't he get to play with Brad, Schuldich, Nagi and Hisoka? He really wanted to.
« You've been a really, really bad boy, you know that? » Farfello let go, suddenly dropping him to the ground, kneeling in front of him. « Poor, pitiful…. Sheep » he hissed out the last word, claw-like nails, slowly tracing the young teen's jawbone. « You're so, so afraid of me »
It was awfully strange, he thought, to hear Farfello talk like that. It's as if he understood him. He didn't like it. Not at all. But would he rather be bleeding to death in an alley? Given the choice, he would endure better the present teasing. He suddenly let out a sharp cry as the white-haired man snatched his fingers away, painfully scraping against the youth's cheek, drawing a trickle of red blood that slowly, slowly slid down… and finally splattered against the collar of the white blazer.
It was, he knew, the beginning of the end. Once Farfello saw blood, nothing would stop him.
This, Nagi thought, is bad.
What a nice, instant asessment of his current situation. He had no time to wonder just what Hisoka was doing here, or why he had that very sharp, dangerous tool in hand. He just wanted Hisoka back. This bloodthirsty being, the one approaching him with practiced battle steps was not Hisoka! It couldn't be. To make something bad even worse, a thunderstorm was coming, raindrops splaterring on the ground, launched from angry, dark clouds. Why was this situation particularly horrible?
First off, footing would be absolutely zero in the mud that would be created. Second, and worst of all, he wouldn't be able to use his powers.
Why? If he did use them, he was a beacon for lightning. He had absolutely no idea why, but electricity coming from the sky didn't seem fond of his powers. Maybe it was God trying to stop him from doing evil things, he once thought. Except.. he had never done anything bad, so God up there wouldn't punish him without good reason.
How did he discover this? By experience. He was once hit by lightning as he attempted to shield himself from the rain. That thaught hi one thing : Better to be soaked.. than to be burnt.
Returning to the present though, Nagi could only see one thing : Trouble.
Hisoka had a very dangerous toy.. and he had nothing. Not even his powers. Even if he could find something to act as a sword-type weapon, he never handled such a thing. The only thing he could do was to slowly, imperceptibly step backwards…
Gush cried out as he hit the wall of the hangar, where Farfello had thrown him since he needed to close the large door. The youth now bore a few bleeding scratches and it was unquestionnable that his white clothes would have to be taken to the garbage dump or handed to a high professinal for cleaning. The collar of the blazer was hopelessly stained, the pants and back dirtied by all sorts of materials from mud to cola and other things loitering the streets on which he'd been dragged.
« Are you done crying? » Farfello asked, slumping down next to him, slowly driving the knife in his own fingertip.
Of course the youth watched with wide eyes, terrified beyond belief. He was alone with this maniac still.. and it had been a long night out there, being dragged around, dealt numerous thin, painful wounds. He had never known a great deal of pain aside from accidently banging a knee or elbow somewhere, or tripping. Then an idea occured to him. Fighting back! But.. no, it wasn't even an option. Along with Schu, Brad and Muraki, he knew Farfello was somehow immune to pain.
« I'll take that as a yes » the not quite sane man smirked before retrieving his bloodied knife.
It was a nightmare, wasn't it? Gush could only hope to have somehow fallen asleep at work. If so, he wanted to wake up. He wanted to wake up NOW!
But not.. it was real. The pain he was feeling told him that this was the hopelessly true reality. He dimly wondered if this was the last time he was seeing the sunrise.
Nagi jumped back, evading the stab which could have doubtlessly torn his chest apart. « Hisoka! Don't! » he tried calling, hoping the other teen was remotely sane. The answer was a cruel slash which suceeded in cutting through the telekinetic's black vest. The skin beneath it was left cut, bleeding.
Hisoka could feel it. Nagi's distress, his pain, the hurt he felt at being attacked. His own eyes refused to show him what was going on, mind locked away from his body. Muraki had gotten such a hold on him in a so small amount of time. There was no logical explanation as to how he made a perfect puppet out of this frail boy's body. There was no explanation as to why he was being used now.
He was certain of one thing. What he was doing… whatever he was forced to do… it hurt Nagi, body and soul.
Rain splattered on his face, other droplets starting to moisten his cinnamon-brown hair. Slowly but surely, Nagi was tiring. He wouldn't give up though. He wasn't much of an athlete, but his small, light body allowed him speed necessary to dodge most of the slashes and stabs. Midnight-blue eyes alert, mind racing, he suceeded in stepping out of the way of many vicious attempts.
Unfortunatelty, Nagi hit weak ground and slipped just as Hisoka swung madly.
A piercing wail rang through the old battlefield as the telekinetic tried to tell the world of the pain he felt, clutching his lacerated side. His bones got quite a shock, and it had reverbated throughout his ribcage as well, causing him to be slightly dizzy, disoriented.
«DAMNIT!! » the angry, alarmed cry ressounded throughout the house, startling Shuldich, who was trying to eat breakfast in all tranquility. Of course as he heard the yell, tranquility flew out the window a he ran… only to collide with Brad as he turned the corner. « Uh, whazzat about, yellin, so early in the morning? » the German mumbled, trying to stop the world from spinning. « Let me wake up first »
« We have absolutely no time to! You know where the old battlefield is? Go there! » the american-born man quickly ordered of him. « I don't care if you steal the neighbour's car, go there! Quick! »
« But.. where are you going? » Schuldich had to ask the other man, who was trying to get a taxi on the phone.
« Don't ask.. just GO already! »
Rarely had the German even seen Brad this tense.. so he quickly ran out of the house after grabbing one little something from his room and…. Well, since they didn't have any neighbour, he couldn't steal any car! He did, however spot…
« A Tricycle? No way » he slapped a hand on his forehead.
…a few minutes later, he was pedalling as fast as he could, cramped on the tiny vehicule. One could hear him grumble something to the effect of being used… as a comic relief.
Somehow, Nagi sidestepped another swing, which nicked his cheek, slicing open the fragile skin, producing one small trickle of blood. A flash of lightning blinded him then, rendering him incapable of dodging the next blow.
Hisoka could only wish it was all a bad dream, but he knew better. Never before had he felt so much despair and pain. He cursed himself a thousand time for being unable to do anything but lie there, trapped in this strange worl, mind away from his body, far away…
Nagi let out an ear-splitting cry as pain flared up, the katana having pierced his shoulder. He thought for sure that he would die, vision slowly blurring as he fell forward right into Hisoka's arms, knees failing him. He couldn't think about anything aside from pain.. and wonder just why this had suddenly happened.
~End Chapter 10~
The Mayfly
November 27th, 2001/11/27
Chapter 10 - The End of the Road
« D-d-don't… do it » Gushoshin stammered helplessly, squirming in the insane one's vice-like grip. Five fingers were curled up around his arm, sharp nails digging into the teenager's skin, breaking its perfection.
« You were created by God » Farfello accused, raising the knife in the air.
« So were you » the sandy-haired one retorted, admirably witty. He could have said anything else… anything. Because this angered the agressor to no end. He found the knife scraping against his throath, and his eyes, reddened by lack of sleep, widened as he stared at what he thoughs was death.
« I really think I'll have lots of fun with you.. boy » He wouldn't kill him. Not right now. He just had to play for a while. Play. He liked that.
Gush' struggled, a light whimper escaping him. Why..? why wouldn't he get to play with Brad, Schuldich, Nagi and Hisoka? He really wanted to.
« You've been a really, really bad boy, you know that? » Farfello let go, suddenly dropping him to the ground, kneeling in front of him. « Poor, pitiful…. Sheep » he hissed out the last word, claw-like nails, slowly tracing the young teen's jawbone. « You're so, so afraid of me »
It was awfully strange, he thought, to hear Farfello talk like that. It's as if he understood him. He didn't like it. Not at all. But would he rather be bleeding to death in an alley? Given the choice, he would endure better the present teasing. He suddenly let out a sharp cry as the white-haired man snatched his fingers away, painfully scraping against the youth's cheek, drawing a trickle of red blood that slowly, slowly slid down… and finally splattered against the collar of the white blazer.
It was, he knew, the beginning of the end. Once Farfello saw blood, nothing would stop him.
This, Nagi thought, is bad.
What a nice, instant asessment of his current situation. He had no time to wonder just what Hisoka was doing here, or why he had that very sharp, dangerous tool in hand. He just wanted Hisoka back. This bloodthirsty being, the one approaching him with practiced battle steps was not Hisoka! It couldn't be. To make something bad even worse, a thunderstorm was coming, raindrops splaterring on the ground, launched from angry, dark clouds. Why was this situation particularly horrible?
First off, footing would be absolutely zero in the mud that would be created. Second, and worst of all, he wouldn't be able to use his powers.
Why? If he did use them, he was a beacon for lightning. He had absolutely no idea why, but electricity coming from the sky didn't seem fond of his powers. Maybe it was God trying to stop him from doing evil things, he once thought. Except.. he had never done anything bad, so God up there wouldn't punish him without good reason.
How did he discover this? By experience. He was once hit by lightning as he attempted to shield himself from the rain. That thaught hi one thing : Better to be soaked.. than to be burnt.
Returning to the present though, Nagi could only see one thing : Trouble.
Hisoka had a very dangerous toy.. and he had nothing. Not even his powers. Even if he could find something to act as a sword-type weapon, he never handled such a thing. The only thing he could do was to slowly, imperceptibly step backwards…
Gush cried out as he hit the wall of the hangar, where Farfello had thrown him since he needed to close the large door. The youth now bore a few bleeding scratches and it was unquestionnable that his white clothes would have to be taken to the garbage dump or handed to a high professinal for cleaning. The collar of the blazer was hopelessly stained, the pants and back dirtied by all sorts of materials from mud to cola and other things loitering the streets on which he'd been dragged.
« Are you done crying? » Farfello asked, slumping down next to him, slowly driving the knife in his own fingertip.
Of course the youth watched with wide eyes, terrified beyond belief. He was alone with this maniac still.. and it had been a long night out there, being dragged around, dealt numerous thin, painful wounds. He had never known a great deal of pain aside from accidently banging a knee or elbow somewhere, or tripping. Then an idea occured to him. Fighting back! But.. no, it wasn't even an option. Along with Schu, Brad and Muraki, he knew Farfello was somehow immune to pain.
« I'll take that as a yes » the not quite sane man smirked before retrieving his bloodied knife.
It was a nightmare, wasn't it? Gush could only hope to have somehow fallen asleep at work. If so, he wanted to wake up. He wanted to wake up NOW!
But not.. it was real. The pain he was feeling told him that this was the hopelessly true reality. He dimly wondered if this was the last time he was seeing the sunrise.
Nagi jumped back, evading the stab which could have doubtlessly torn his chest apart. « Hisoka! Don't! » he tried calling, hoping the other teen was remotely sane. The answer was a cruel slash which suceeded in cutting through the telekinetic's black vest. The skin beneath it was left cut, bleeding.
Hisoka could feel it. Nagi's distress, his pain, the hurt he felt at being attacked. His own eyes refused to show him what was going on, mind locked away from his body. Muraki had gotten such a hold on him in a so small amount of time. There was no logical explanation as to how he made a perfect puppet out of this frail boy's body. There was no explanation as to why he was being used now.
He was certain of one thing. What he was doing… whatever he was forced to do… it hurt Nagi, body and soul.
Rain splattered on his face, other droplets starting to moisten his cinnamon-brown hair. Slowly but surely, Nagi was tiring. He wouldn't give up though. He wasn't much of an athlete, but his small, light body allowed him speed necessary to dodge most of the slashes and stabs. Midnight-blue eyes alert, mind racing, he suceeded in stepping out of the way of many vicious attempts.
Unfortunatelty, Nagi hit weak ground and slipped just as Hisoka swung madly.
A piercing wail rang through the old battlefield as the telekinetic tried to tell the world of the pain he felt, clutching his lacerated side. His bones got quite a shock, and it had reverbated throughout his ribcage as well, causing him to be slightly dizzy, disoriented.
«DAMNIT!! » the angry, alarmed cry ressounded throughout the house, startling Shuldich, who was trying to eat breakfast in all tranquility. Of course as he heard the yell, tranquility flew out the window a he ran… only to collide with Brad as he turned the corner. « Uh, whazzat about, yellin, so early in the morning? » the German mumbled, trying to stop the world from spinning. « Let me wake up first »
« We have absolutely no time to! You know where the old battlefield is? Go there! » the american-born man quickly ordered of him. « I don't care if you steal the neighbour's car, go there! Quick! »
« But.. where are you going? » Schuldich had to ask the other man, who was trying to get a taxi on the phone.
« Don't ask.. just GO already! »
Rarely had the German even seen Brad this tense.. so he quickly ran out of the house after grabbing one little something from his room and…. Well, since they didn't have any neighbour, he couldn't steal any car! He did, however spot…
« A Tricycle? No way » he slapped a hand on his forehead.
…a few minutes later, he was pedalling as fast as he could, cramped on the tiny vehicule. One could hear him grumble something to the effect of being used… as a comic relief.
Somehow, Nagi sidestepped another swing, which nicked his cheek, slicing open the fragile skin, producing one small trickle of blood. A flash of lightning blinded him then, rendering him incapable of dodging the next blow.
Hisoka could only wish it was all a bad dream, but he knew better. Never before had he felt so much despair and pain. He cursed himself a thousand time for being unable to do anything but lie there, trapped in this strange worl, mind away from his body, far away…
Nagi let out an ear-splitting cry as pain flared up, the katana having pierced his shoulder. He thought for sure that he would die, vision slowly blurring as he fell forward right into Hisoka's arms, knees failing him. He couldn't think about anything aside from pain.. and wonder just why this had suddenly happened.
~End Chapter 10~
The Mayfly
November 27th, 2001/11/27