Until Then
By Xinderella
Chapter Four: Fear Is Blind
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.
Summary: This is a story of the relationship between Larva and Miyu. Miyu is a normal schoolgirl, at the tender age of fourteen. She gets good grades, has great friends, and has a great life. But the day will come when she finds out that she is not completely human. And so she meets Larva. Until then, enjoy. Please read and review!
Other: Make sure you read my poems and prose about VPM in I Am! Check them out! And don't forget to leave a review! On another note… cries Sorry, minna-san! I'm just so caught up in eveything happening in my life right now! I apologize for not updating in so long!
She woke up a while later, horribly and painfully stiff in every single part of her fragile body. Her cheek was pressed completely flat against a cold, hard surface that seemed to be sucking the very warmth out of her. A dull, throbbing ache in her head indicated that she had a slight but vexing headache. She groaned without sound. It felt as if every joint in her body refused to budge, even the slightest millimeter, without causing her, at the very least, a world of pain.
But she had to. She had to move, so that she could get out of here.
She heard a slight murmuring. All she could make out was, "The girl . . . sleeping . . . tell the . . . princess . . ."
Or perhaps it was only her imagination.
But she had to make sure. She pushed herself away from the cold, hateful floor, using her hands and arms to prop herself up, to separate at least a fraction of her body from that hard, uncomfortable surface. After rubbing her eyes with balled fists, she yawned, as if she were waking up from a deep sleep. She wanted to fool anyone who was watching her.
But she heard nothing. It had only been her mind playing tricks on her. It was merely paranoia.
Kimiko had kept her eyes shut until this moment. Now she opened her golden eyes, blinking rapidly at her temporary loss of vision.
But it wasn't because it was too bright.
It was because she couldn't see at all.
She, Kurosawa Kimiko, was blind.
She waved one hand in front of her eyes. She gasped when she felt her fingers brush her nose. She couldn't see her hand. She couldn't see. She couldn't. She couldn't!
"Am I blind?" she asked, a tremor in her voice. She knew there was no one there to answer. But she couldn't help it. She couldn't be blind, she couldn't!
"Relax, pet, you're not blind."
"Who's there?" Kimiko twisted her head around, searching for a source she could not see.
"It's only me, love. I'm me. That's all you need to know. It's nighttime, you know. That's why you can't see a single bloody thing."
"Nighttime?"
"Yes, pet. Nighttime. You know, when the sun goes down and everything goes dark?"
His voice held just the slightest hints of laughter in its charming folds. He sounded—if that was even possible—handsome. She suddenly had the urge to giggle at his joke, but suppressed it out of embarrassment of what he may think of her if she did.
"Now, let me give you a brief rundown of the situation. I'm the abductor that's holding you hostage. You're going to keep quiet until my boss comes. We're in the middle of the forest outside the park and you're sleeping on a bench. Oh, yes, and besides being an abductor, I'm also a shinma." His kind, silky voice enveloped her in gentle warmth, and she felt somewhat lulled by the sound.
She blinked, and shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the sleepy sensation she was caught up in at the moment. Hopelessly confused and lost, she tried her best to understand, but couldn't. "What is a… shinma?" Her voice sounded dreamy and dazed to her own ears.
"A type of demon." His voice was still like honey . . . She didn't grasp the full meaning of what he was saying until a moment later.
"A . . . demon? Butdemons aren't real!" She laughed, disbelievingly.
"They are in the real world, pet." His velveteen voice threatened to cast its spell over her mind with its sweetness.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, an alarm went off. Some kind of instinct, one that seemed old and primal and purely bestial, told Kimiko something was wrong. But her human mind didn't want her to. Her human self liked this man, with his kind, silky voice and wonderful sense of humor. Besides that, he had such an adorable British accent. She dimly realized in the back of her mind that she didn't even know English, yet could understand this man perfectly.
Kimiko knew she had to escape. She had to run. But her mind said 'no'. In spite of her mortal side, her instincts forced her to try and flee this place, with the stranger that had the voice of an angel.
So, although it went against her mind's wants and impulses, she tried to jump up and run away, but soon found out that . . . she couldn't.
She couldn't move her legs at all.
He noticed her flimsy attempt at a getaway, and commented in his gravelly, English accent.
"Terribly sorry for not mentioning it before, but you're paralyzed from the waist down. If you haven't already noticed, love."
Unbelievably disgruntled and humiliated, she muttered, "Believe me. I noticed." She felt embarrassed, and her mind told her that she had every reason to be, trying to run away from this amazing and wonderful man.
"Ah, sarcasm. The language of the modern teenager. How old are you now, Miyu?"
Something inside her snapped. And she saw. The clearly unfunny wisecracks, the unauthentic honey-coated voice—it was getting to be too much.
She barked at him, "None of your business! Where am I? Why are you doing this to—"
She stopped abruptly, emitting a small sound that could only be identified as a squeak. That name. That cursed name again.
Miyu.
How did he know? Why did he, like the giant, think she was someone named Miyu?
"Ah, ah, ah. You don't answer my questions, I don't answer yours." His tone was teasing, but there was a layer underneath that was as rigid as cold steel. It frightened her.
She answered his inquiry, not without qualms in doing so. "I'm fourteen."
"You lie." His voice was suddenly sharp as daggers, and his words cut at her with their harshness. She felt the sudden urge to make him believe, lest he do something drastic.
"No, I don't! I'm fourteen, and today's my birthday, and—"
"Shut your gob, girl. You're not fourteen. Not yet." His voice had reasonably calmed down, and she felt him relax. What happened next surprised her.
He disappeared. Or at least, she thought he did. This was why:
Kimiko suddenly felt a loss of presence in the room. Or place. Or wherever she was. It was as if his aura had suddenly . . . vanished.
Was he gone?
Warm breath blew against her ear as she heard a voice speaking to her from right beside her.
"You were born at 12:00 on the dot, midnight, were you not?"
She jumped as her unspoken question was answered.
No. Still there, the damn bastard.
He was too close. She could still feel him breathing in her ear.
She tried to move away, but something with a grip like iron suddenly clutched the front of her shirt. He dragged her to him so that she could feel his nose touching hers.
Too close.
Fear suddenly filled her with its sickening tentacles and wrapped around her, stifling her breath.
What was he going to do to her?
Frightening images flashed across the recesses of her mind, showing her the many possibilities of what he might be planning.
Would he torture her?
Would he kill her?
Would he . . . rape her?
A gasp attempted to make its way to her mouth, but became decidedly stuck in the back of her throat. Why didn't she see it before? She had heard of girls that had been abducted, only to be found a few weeks later, dead and the victims of sexual violation.
Some weren't even found at all.
Ever.
Tears started to form at the corners of her eyes, and suddenly, she couldn't suppress her immense fear anymore. She gave a strangled cry and the tears spilled unsteadily over her eyelids. Rivulets of soft warmth ran down her cheeks, and her heart clenched tightly in upon itself in pure, unadulterated fright.
Would she be violated without even knowing whom her mysterious abductor with the velveteen voice was?
She couldn't even see! She couldn't run away!
She choked back a sob with obvious difficulty.
She wouldn't be able to take the pain.
She wasn't strong.
She couldn't handle this.
She couldn't.
She couldn't.
She couldn't . . .
Oh, the suspense!
What will become of our beloved heroine now?
Perhaps a knight in shining armor is in order . . .
-Xinderella