Enchaîné - Chapitre 9
Au Revoir
"Awake, André?" Frère smiled roguishly. "Don't talk. Allow me to remove these obstructive things." André felt his bounds falling apart, recoiling at the prickling sensation removal of the tubes and wires. He sat upright and shivered. The room was terribly cold. Rubbing himself, he suddenly understood why. He wasn't wearing any clothes.
Flushing in awkwardness, André looked away, his cheeks tingling. Frère said nothing as he placed a pile of clothes onto a desk. He came closer and firmly placed his arms on André's slim shoulders. Drawing him nearer, Frère whispered, his voice ragged with desire.
"Comme toujours, tu es beaux, " Nestling his face into the raven locks and took a deep long breath. "You always are." Lowering, he kissed the soft part of André's neck as his hands roamed down his back. Using a bit of strength, he ravenously moved his lips against André's and shoved his tongue down his throat, heightening himself in the sweetness. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted André to be his. He could persuade Gloven to make André his. If he wouldn't cooperate, then he would just have to kill him. Whatever, the red-haired Aya said was a load of rubbish. He was always the survivor, a being for himself. He was no man's object. Though Gloven may be his father, he's just his last prey. He must suffer more. For now, he yearned for André to be fully his.
"Frère… no…" André writhed beneath Frère's weight. He was all over him, licking him, touching him. Like he always do. André was getting dizzy and his mind dissolved at the caressing, aflame with the growing heat from both their bodies. It was so addictive.
Then, he heard Frère said, "You are forever mine, Neuf-trois-sept-neuf. "
It hit André like an iron hammer. He looked up at Frère, in the midst of the sweaty face, he saw Haughtiness gleaming in the innocent baby-blue eyes. Then, something snapped. With sudden burst of energy, he shoved Frère away. Standing up, he headed for the nearest basin. Turning on the tap, he splashed himself with icy cold water. Too bad, there wasn't a bathroom around. He badly wanted to wash himself; to cleanse every spot that Frère had touched him. Most importantly, he needed clothes.
Frère was taken back by the abrupt response, it never happened before. André never did that before. He would always stayed still until he was finished. Upset, he went towards him and stretched out his hands to touch him.
"Get away from me!" André hissed acidly, hurriedly walked to the desk and quickly put on the clothes.
"Neuf-trois-sept-neuf…"
"My name is André Masson, damn it!" His seaweed flashed anger. "Is that too difficult for you to understand?" Feeling slightly better in clothes, André lowered his tone. "I'm not in Âme any more. Period."
"Ha!" Frère snarled; his face hardened. "Is what you think? Where do you think you are? You are in the every core of Âme. Right now, your friends are fighting for their every lives in the Hunt." Turning to the keyboards, he clicked on a few buttons and the screens automatically displayed the different area sections of the Hunt. "All of your Japonais amies will die and you'll be alone. You will need me to escape from Gloven's clutches! You'll need me, Neuf-trois-sept-neuf ! "
"No, I don't!" André boldly replied. "I don't need you to escape from Gloven or Âme. In fact, I don't need to run anymore. I'm freed, Frère." He pounded his fist upon his heart. "I'm free to go anywhere. I can live as a normal person. I can live in places where people can accept me. I don't need you. I can do it on my own."
"Ca ne vent rien dire! (RUBBISH)." Frère screamed, slamming his fists on the keyboards. "You can never do this alone. You need me! I have been looking for you all these years! I…"
"What you have done is nothing but pain! You have driven me away from everyone whom I come in contact with. Every time, I settled at a place, you will chase me out from it! You never love me! You just want to use me as you used Shella!" André flared. "You never intend to kill Gloven from the beginning! Instead, you let him live! Why? Tell me why can't you kill him? Why can't you end all of this hellhole?"
Frère stiffened, a lump stayed fix in his throat. Rage was erupting within himself and he couldn't release it in words. Digging his nails into his palms, he banged his fist onto a button. The screen changed and displayed a boy chained to a tree. André was startled.
"Yes, André…" Frère sounded like a harsh winter wind. "Your darling little Omi. He's located in the mid area of the Hunt. I intend to keep what I said. I will kill that brat! Unless, you submit yourself to me."
"Go to Hell!"
"Fine!" Frère pushed another button, activating an entrance. "If you can reach that place before me, we'll settle our fight once and for all. If not, your little brat will die!"
"Damn you!" André charged towards him as the door closed behind Frère's back. Pounding his fists onto the metal door, André clenched his teeth in fury. "Damn you…"
Struggling against his chain-bounded predicament, Omi had false hope of weakening them by rubbing them against the tree bark that peeled off as easily as peeling apple. There was a pathetic feeling to pit wood against the old-fashioned metal! Not to mention the ants that swamped the ground he was standing on. His stomach contacted at the thought that he was chained to an ant habitation. Cringing at the thought of the ants crawling into his clothes, Omi decided to stay as still as possible to avoid the ants' fury and their stinging bites.
The snapping sound if dry twigs perked Omi's ears. Surveying the area, he saw no one but his instincts served him well for there was someone hiding behind the green and brown camouflage of the forest. That wasn't good for someone whose position was like a sitting duck. A chained sitting duck.
Hearing than seeing, an arrow wheezed towards him. Quickly, he barely turned his head herself just before it struck. The loud thud thundered in his right ear and splinters of wood shattered to the ground, infuriating the ants. Omi could feel the horrible tickling sensation of them crawling down his neck. That was rather incomparable to the one who nearly shot him. Dressed in leathery black with crossbows in his hair, Frère grinned devilishly at him. Stepping heavily on the ground, the ants swarmed about the thick soles of his boots frantically.
Slinging the crossbows upon his back, he approached Omi like a hunter approaching his captured prey. Removing his gloves, the lavender threads sprouted out from his skin, wriggling and twirling about. Omi's eyes widened at the remembrance of his first encounter with them. Frère flashed his white teeth in enjoyment of seeing the fear so purely displayed in the Japanese boy's eyes. That was the moment he took pleasure in every time a victim was his grasp. This one would be the most pleasurable of all. He couldn't wait to see André's expression when he found him limp and lifeless. Then, nobody could stop him from making André his forever.
"What's the matter?" Omi felt the lavender threads caressing the sides of his face and Frère's hot breath. "Expecting someone else? I won't be propping into your brain like the last time. Instead," One of the lavender threads slowly inserted itself into Omi's neck, making him winced. "I'll make sure you have just enough to say your last words to André before I make him mine." He gripped Omi's hair and pulling his head backwards. "No one can have him except me. I'll spare no one who gets close to him, not even a little school boy like you."
"You're sick," Omi hissed painfully as the lavender thread went deeper into his veins. "No wonder André left you!"
"Oh really?" Frère smirked as more of his lavender threads went deeper into Omi's neck. It was a thrill to see him biting his lip in effects not to scream. "Why don't you scream like you did before? I love to hear screams from little boys like you."
Omi did not answer or could not answer as he bit his lip till blood spilled out. The lavender threads were like worms wriggling their way down into his veins and flesh. Suddenly, a loud high-pitched scream pierced through the air, temporarily removing the pain. His eyes widen at the recognition of the scream. It was Manx's. An instant later, an awful gunshot followed, freezing Omi into solid ice.
Frère, seeing Omi's whitened face, removed the lavender threads. Seizing the chains, he yanked them as if they were cotton, breaking them without breaking a sweat. With his hand clutching Omi by the collar, he tossed him aside. Omi collapsed upon a bed of grass and coughed, spitting out saliva and blood. Frère towered over him and taunted.
"Did you recognize your lady friend's scream? Father probably had his fun before he shot her dead. Funny, he usually takes his own sweet time till he feels it's ripe." Smirking. "Oh well, I'm certain he did have…"
Before he could complete his sentence, Omi charged his elbow right into Frère's side, staggering him. From behind, he took out a branch, its weight bearable enough, and struck Frère's left hand, causing him to drop the crossbows. Another blow from the branch to keep him off-balance, Omi stooped down, picked up the crossbows and fired. Frère rolled over, evading the arrows. Snarling like a wild beast, he charged, closing the distance between them. Instinctively, Omi plunged the crossbow into Frère's stomach and kicked him hard in the chin. Frère felled backwards, his hands pressing against his wounds.
Spinning, Omi ran into the leafy barriers, heedless of where he was going. He didn't care. There was only one thought in his mind and that was he had to survive this nightmare one way or the other. Tears welled lightly in his eyes at sudden remembrance of Manx's screams and the gunshot. Did Gloven really kill her? What about Aya? Was he still alive? A daunting chill crept down in his spine at the possibility of him being the sole survivor. Shaking his head furiously, Omi tried to brush them away. He wasn't alone. He couldn't be alone. He didn't want to be alone. He must think that Manx and Aya were safe and somewhere else.
Heading into the thick shelter undergrowth, he forced himself to blend in with the surroundings. His heart was pounding continuously and his whole body reeked of sweat and blood. Panting, he peered through the brushes and prayed Frère wasn't there. He was. Half praying, Omi hoped Frère would go away. He was afraid of him and he never had that fear. Was the fear he was experiencing the same from all those he assassinated in his previous missions? Then, all was quiet and still.
Omi was shaking uncontrollably and he knew he should be.
Frère was looking right at him.
Meanwhile, André was running aimlessly through the forest, half sick with anxiety that he was too late to save Omi. Frère had hid his tracks well and it was impossible to determine Omi's location from the computer screens. Then, he ran across a pile of dead soliders. Stopping for a moment, he studied them for a second. No. Frère didn't kill them for the killer blows were too clean, just like a Japanese swordsman. Then, he heard someone coming. Positioning himself, he prepared to make the kill. Out from the bushes, Aya with Manx leaning against his shoulders. They both looked like they needed a bath as much as he needed one.
"Aya! Manx!" André exclaimed with relief. "Thank le Bon Dieu that you are both alive! Did you see Omi?"
"They split us up the moment we entered the Hunt." Aya wearily replied. "We need to get back inside and hacked into the computer system. It's time to get out of here. How did you get here?"
"Frère let me go," Seeing Aya & Manx's frowns. "However, he intends to kill Omi. Here." Tossing them two cards. "These are security cards that I took from the remaining soliders. Use them to gain access to the airfield. You should be able to use the communication system at the control room."
"Fine," Manx took the cards. "Find Omi and then meet us at the airfield…"
At that moment, the trio heard a high-pitched scream.
And that same very moment, Omi genuinely believed he was in Hell. In a breath, hundreds of Frère's lavender threads sprouted out and hanged on to Omi like magnets. Then, like parasites, they sunk into his flesh and began their operation. Omi felt himself being set on fire. Oxygen left his lungs with stunning suddenness, making his whole body numb with shock. Through the blinding pain, he saw the lavender threads changing their colour to bright red. It was like they were draining his blood away.
Frère smirked as he watched the boy's eyes dilating at each further affliction. His face was contorted with agony and his mouth gaped opened, screaming endlessly. He smiled at the sound of his prey's submission.
"You know," Smiling nastily. "Not only I can suck information from people's minds but also their blood or any other useful body fluids that I could use to replenish myself whether it's for a meal or a snack."
Raising his fingers slightly, the threads slider their way out of Omi's body and back into Frère's. Omi collapsed. Waves of dizziness were overwhelming him like an insane torrent as the images blurred and cleared repeatedly. His whole body was stiffened and immobile. Frère was bending down, knocking Omi flat on the ground. The baby-blue eyes stared ravenously the moment he ripped Omi's shirt apart, exposing his bare naked skin. Once more, the lavender threads merged out from his hands. Two went into his right wrist and another two on his left, making Omi cried out in anguish again. Frère continued to fondle him like he was his precious little jewel, caressing at the sensitive areas. Every now and then, Omi moaned helplessly. He wanted so much to let the darkness overcome him, to end the ordeal.
As for Frère, it was a splendid time for him. Right now, he would teach this little prey hands-on experience on the thrill of leisurely killing one's prey, gradually draining him of everything, his body, mind and soul. Unfortunately, Omi would be the one having the luxury of living.
But like all enjoyments that ended rudely, an excruciating pain went through his flesh and bone, sending down a shaking sensation in the nerves of his body. He howled and stared at what originally should have been a right arm. Turning around, he saw André holding a bloody circular disc in his hands.
"You!" Frère shrieked, lavender threads spurted out from the opening wound and twisted themselves round and round till they formed an arm-like object. "How did you get Shella's disc?"
"Fun's over. Get your filth off him!" André scowled, throwing the disc at him. The spinning disc struck at every tree, cutting them like sticks. Frère was forced to jump away to avoid the crushing weight of the trees. André leaped and carried Omi across his shoulders. The disc flew back. André caught it and the disc automatically shrinks itself to the size of a penny and sunk beneath his palm.
"Shella gave it to me before she died," André replied, holding out a couple of ball-sized grenades between his fingers. "It's over, Frère." Suddenly, the ground trembled and dark clouds of smoke billowed up the skies above. "The sound you heard is the laboratory crumbling to pieces, the barracks and all that military stuffs that Âme has. You see. I may not have that fancy worms that you have but at least, I know how to blow up Âme's vital resources. Now, if you will excuse me," Smirking. "We have to go now. There's nothing left for us to stay." He threw down the bombs, releasing tons of gray smokescreens.
"Smokescreens?" Frère saw two shadowy figures. "I can see through right it!" From his belt, he took out mean-looking daggers and threw them. To his horror, the daggers struck nothing but tree trucks. He had missed. He never missed before. Running out of the smokescreens, he twisted and turned, straining his senses to detect either of them. He couldn't. Then, a realization came to him about what Gloven mentioned about the Enchaîné DNA. Could it be that Fideline did not intend to break down the Enchaîné DNA to a normal human DNA in the first place?
In rage, Frère screamed. So intense like an insane flood that anyone could hear it, including Aya and Manx at the airfield control station. Seeing the dark clouds of smoke, she smiled at signs that the madness was at its end. Using the security cards, she had sent a distress signal to her sources. With hope and lots of luck, they might send a rescue plane faster than the speed of sound and get them out of this senseless hellhole.
Preparing themselves at the co-ordinations of the airfield, Aya and Manx saw André running towards them, carrying Omi in his arms. His speed was like a jaguar or even faster. In Manx's opinion, she didn't care a damn about what happened to the Enchaîné DNA anymore. André had kept his part of the bargain and she would keep hers. Aya took over and carried Omi. Manx was relieved that he was still alive despite his bloodless whitened face. He was still breathing and mumbling inaudible words.
"That psycho is still alive?" Manx snapped at André, angered that Omi had fallen victim twice to him.
Before André could reply, the four heard a dreadful beast like scream. Walking out of the smoke clouds was Frère; his baby-blue eyes were blazing murderously. He had a crazed look and the veins in his face were standing out in livid ridge. His red hair was flaring like hell's fire. Frère was about to attack André when he spots Manx.
"The bitch is still alive?" He mocked, his eyes nearly budged out. "How?"
"Nothing much she can handle," Aya undauntedly replied. "Gloven's dead."
"But…" Frère looked like a bullet had hit him. "I heard the bitch screaming and the gunshot."
"Sure you did," Aya continued. "I shot him." He remained stoical. "Remember what I said about Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, when the creature found Victor Frankenstein dead, he died as well. In other words, it's over for Âme. It's all over for you. Our mission has ended."
"Lies! All Lies!" Frère stormed. "Nothing has ended, nothing has!"
"Yes, it has!" André rebut, his seaweed eyes flashed boldness. "In fact, it was all over in the 1989 shutdown. The only problem was people like you & Gloven who couldn't let go of the past and hang on to it. What accomplishment did we make? Either sides have won or lost. Let go it hold, Frère. You can start over…"
"I SHALL NOT!!! ÂME STARTED WHEN I WAS CREATED! IT WILL NEVER END UNTIL I SAID SO!!!"
Frère launched forward, totally losing control of himself. André wheeled around and barely avoided Frère who leaped from behind to attack. Moving swiftly, he gave a turning kick to Frère in the midsection. Frère was thrown back but his long legs enable to knock André off his feet. Throwing himself on top of him, he gave a strong head butt. Blood spurted out from André's forehead but he managed to lift up his legs and gave a kick in Frère's lower section.
Aya stood there, witnessing the bloody fighting scene. Both men looked like they were going to tear each other apart. Frère had completely lost his mind and became a savage beast. He was right in his analysis after all. Frère did need Gloven for survival. Now, he's gone. There was nothing he could lose. At his last end, he resorted to the last code of any solider - to die in honour in a battlefield, to die in the hands of the last Âme child. Aya felt a tiny bit of pity for Frère. What sort of honour could he gain in this? In the ultimate, the bitter truth remained.
There was no honour in taking a life. There never was.
All of a sudden, Frère's right arm morphed into a sword and he tried to stab André. However, André was quicker as his disc produced out of his palm by itself and sliced aggressively through Frère's abdomen. Sinking deeply, Frère's half body burst out trails of internal organs and hot dark blood. Some of them splashed heavily upon André's face, the touch of its heat horrified him. At the heavy thud of the body, André dropped his disc. Its clattering rang in his ears. He dropped to his knees, next to Frère's upper half of his body.
Vomiting blood, saliva and other body fluids, Frère's face tightened with pain, then relaxed, the face tightened again. The eyes squeezed shut and opened. The hands grasped feebly in the air. With his remaining energy, he said something, which was more than a whisper.
"Comme toujours, tu es beaux… (As always, you are beautiful)" He gave a sigh, baby-blue eyes portrayed tremendous pain, then emptiness as his body collapsed and stayed still.
At Tokyo International Airport, Omi was at the viewing section, watching the arrival and departure of the colourful airplanes. For once, he left very secure to be in his homeland. 4 months had passed since they left Âme to its grave. Manx had made sure that all records of Seta Sakimoto were erased; clearly indicating she wanted nothing to do with Âme. What ever happened to the Enchaîné DNA in André? Nobody knew for sure. Aya only theorized that the Enchaîné DNA restructured its biological structure to fit itself into the human DNA. Whether it was real or not, nobody gave a damn about it. One thing for sure, nobody mentioned a single word about Âme, including André who went about on his things quietly, keeping himself aloof for some time.
As promised, Manx provided him with new identifications and passports. With them, André decided to start afresh in Canada as a literature teacher in some university. Omi was happy for him and yet slightly jealous because he was able to start an ordinary life as he wished for.
Unlike him.
The time for his departure to Canada was approaching, André, dressed in plain T-shirt & jeans with a coat, softly thanked the Weib boys and Manx for their help. Then, he beckoned to Omi for a private word. Standing at a corner, Omi looked at André like the first time he saw him. A young man with shoulder-length raven hair contrasting to the fairly creamy skin with eyebrows were arched and trimmed finely at the far end, seaweed green eyes and a soft curved nose in the middle of his feminine face, ending with his kissable lips.
"Omi," André said. "I want to thank you for telling me that I have a soul. That really help back there. "
"How?" Omi gave a puzzled look.
"Back there, when they had all that stuffs on me. I heard a voice calling out to me. So gentle and loving and for once, I felt completely perfect." Glancing at Omi. "Oh well, I suppose I had a spiritual encounter or something. I don't know." Shrugging his shoulders before he recomposed himself. "Omi, do you know how to bid farewell in European style?"
Omi shook his head. André smiled and told him to close his eyes.
He did.
And he did not regret it.
Fin
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