Ransom

By: Ryoko [Raiju]

How did they get here?

Where were they?

Why were they in such pain?

Hiro moaned softly, feeling something warm pressing onto his arm. But the touch stopped when he began to move, a small gasp of surprise coming from behind him. He couldn't move, so moved his eyes instead, falling onto the boy from before.

He couldn't see the boy clearly enough, to make out many features, but he was able to see that the boy had long silvery hair, tied back in a messy braid, and piercing ice blue eyes, clouded over by fear or sorrow. His skin was so white, one couldn't really tell if he was alive or not, for his touch was ice cold as well. The brunette resting his head down once more, allowing the boy to go about his work again.

"Who are you?"

The boy didn't respond, almost ignoring the question.

"Then...where are we?"

Still no answer. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable being asked any of these questions.

"Can you speak?"

He shook his head at that, dipping the cloth back into the bowl of hot water, next to him, and moving down to Hiro's legs.

"You're a mute...I...I'm sorry, I must be making you feel pretty strange then, I-I apologize."

Once he'd finished, the cloth was folded and rested next to the bowl. Reaching over, he held a glass of cold water in Hiro's line of vision, pulling up his head slowly and easing the glass to the teenager's lips. It seemed as though the boy had done this a number of times before, since he was pretty skilled at his timing for giving the oldest teenager time to breathe and all. He continued to let the guitarist drink until he'd been refused, easing the older person's head down again, and setting aside the half empty glass.

The young boy stared at Hiro's back for a long time, studying the wounds and dressing them at the same time, replacing the shirt as soon as he was able to keep the brunette from catching a chill. He sighed softly, no voice heard, leaning down and gently kissing Hiro's cheek. Try to tell him, in his own way, that they were going to be alright.

The three of them jumped as the door swung open, banging against the wall, and the suit-clad man appeared again. His tied was gone and his shirt slightly unbuttoned. The air about him was more intense, more stressed and angry.

"Miroslav! You're DONE! Out NOW!" He ordered. The teenager scrambled to his feet, visibly terrified and shaking, picking up the tray he'd brought in. "Leave that, just get out here, you worthless brat." The man snapped, walking into the room and yanking the boy's collar roughly, literally dragging him out of the room and slamming the door shut.

The small room was silent once more as Hiro listened to the man screaming at someone, in a foreign language, at the top of his lungs, followed by a series of slaps, and then silence ensued. The brunette started trembling slightly, his hands balling into fists. The silence was shattered by the crack of a whip and a blood-curdling scream, which echoed off of the walls, and even more off of the walls inside his head and heart.

"What is...?" He asked, but he really didn't want to know. The trembling grew to the point where he was nearly having a seizure, his eyes wide in fear as the screams continued to pierce the air. Shuichi's arms interrupted his thoughts, pulling the older boy's head to his chest.

"Cover your ears, Hiro. Don't listen, please don't listen." The musician pleaded, whispering the words into the dark locks of hair. He was acting as though he'd heard it before, but in truth he hadn't. This was Shuichi Shindou's way of being brave. He had to endure it, for everyone's sake. Physical pain was irrelevant now. The only thing that existed - the only thing that was real - was the screams, and the cries of pure blood-coated agony.

Another scream pierced the air, silence following it. A few more skin-on- skin-contact sounds, and there was no more.

All the both of them could picture was the poor boy being beaten on mercilessly by some sadistic freak that thought it was okay to keep slaves for pleasure and torture.

The door opened again timidly, and the boy from before stepped inside, barely able to keep his balance any longer. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, falling to his knees the second the door closed behind him.

The two looked up, Shuichi the first up and crawling to the boy.

"You look terrible...come back in the corner over here." He whispered, taking one of the boy's arms and sliding it over his neck as his crawled to the farthest corner of the room, setting the half-limp body next to Hiro, who was already seated against the cold wall.

"Oh my god, what happened to you...?" The taller teenager whimpered, tears stinging his eyes. He could just sit here and watch this be done, he could let this happen again. But...why HAD it happened? What did this kid do, to deserve it? He was helping him and Shuichi out of the kindness of his heart, and that was nothing to be punished for! His eyes locked on the iron collar and cuffs around the boy's neck and wrists.

'Either...someone around here does this because this boy is dangerous...or...' he looked up at the door, staring through it, 'we've got a slavery issue on our hands.' He growled at the thought. "Slavery was outlawed decades ago. And even if it wasn't you had to be over eighteen to be a slave. You're no older than fifteen! What the fu-"

"Hiro!" Shuichi's hands flew up to cover the older boy's mouth. "Shh! There's cameras all over this friggin room! You wanna get us killed?!"

"But...I...I can't watch this happen! Shu, this kid didn't deserve th-" he froze when the door flew open once again, the same man standing there with his hands on his hips.

Oh fuck... the three of the boys thought at once, all starting to tremble, hoping that he, nor either of the others, was going to be taken out of the room, next.

Game Over?

Continue?