A/N: Hello again, peeps! This is the slightly disturbed soon-to-be author,
Nosta-Logic! Here wesa havin da chapta three, which wilsa delvin on a lot
of torture, ya! Major Darth Maul torture, ya! I have changed the story to R
because of my sick, and extremely twisted ways of VERY explicit torment,
and agony. So, if you've got a weak constitution, PLEASE LEAVE NOW.
***WARNING*** YAOI AND LEMON!!!! I WILL MARK THE SPACE WHERE NOBODY UNDER 17 SHOULD READ WITH STARS!!!
******************************************
JUST LIKE THAT, OKAY??? I'LL SAY IT AGAIN:
******DO NOT READ UNDER THIS LINE IF YOU AREN'T 17***********************
Okay! We're cool, then! On with the chappie!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^
His haunting auld eyes remained closed in deep meditation for the next twenty-four hours. Serene, and accepting, no mere mortal being could have ever known by his face that he was one of the most notorious assassins to ever grace the universe's presence. A Sith. A warrior. The dark knight. Maul could feel the force buzzing around him like a swarm of angry bees, wanting him to take them, use his anger for them. Control the bees, and sting the wenches who threatened to get in his way. However, because of the strange restraints locked tightly around his wrists, the bees remained out of reach.
By the lack of guards, and flimsy security, Maul inferred that Raphael had wanted him to feel alone, and forgotten. Good luck trying. Sidious had placed his only apprentice on the secluded planet of Dagobah for a whole damned month; left him stranded alone, and to build his own shelters. Get his own food. It hadn't bothered the Sith Lord, for he had been alone his whole forsaken life. His master cared nothing of him but as a valuable ally, trained to be a drone to his commands, and made to kill every Jedi in his path. Master an apprentice were merely that: Master and apprentice. Nothing more. Nothing less.
He opened his malicious eyes once more, and his body released from its relaxed, meditative state to enter the tense, and always-on-guard state. There were voices. Darth Maul watched, devoid of any emotion, as four of the native cat-species guards unlocked his pristine chrome cell, and bound his neck with a titanium shackle. Some carried guns, others carried vibro- blasters. They were obviously afraid, weak-minded individuals who would have no hope whatsoever at resisting a mind-trick. Even without the force, their prisoner could sense that. But that was the problem. Even without the force......
Quickly, they led him to the throne room where Queen Shegorad sat alone upon her mahogany commode. She watched in a royal nothingness as they dragged their heavily cicatrice captive towards her feet, but also upon his. She grimaced smugly, knowing that he would have to be broken from this, and that she would leave to her son.
The cat-people stopped about twenty feet from the throne, and fell to their knees in retribution. Maul stared like an empty shell, refusing to bow along with them. 'Ere to none I shall accede but you, Lord Sidious.' The vow he had made before the Dark Emperor over ten years ago still ran through his forcefelt mind, and that vow was not one to be interrupted. 'Nay under the threat of torture, nor death shalt I smite this promise to thee, my Emperor.'
"You dishonor yourself, prisoner, by defying the sacred law of Khajiit." Shegorad spat out the word prisoner like she was spitting on Maul. He, however, only continued to stare silently past her. Out into space, where he was so at home.
'And shalt I keep this vow to thee until released by your mouth,'
The queen stood slowly upon her worn knees, and snapped her knotted old fingers. Arthritis was clearly ran through her veins. A cat-man stood, and brought from his belt a primitive weapon, indeed. A whip. He held it in front of the Sith, and raised it, as if trying to intimidate him. "Bow down to your new ruler, slime, or I will make you bow." Shegorad hissed
'Or taken...... by death.'
Maul continued to gaze defiantly past her, as if he did not even notice the deranged weapon of torture before him, interwoven with nails, and shards of broken glass. His eyes were distant, and calm.
"One......" The queen began. Her guard with the whip tightened his hand around the hilt, and the Sith still did not bow.
"Two......" She held up her knotty fingers, showing him that he only had one second left to choose between pain, or humiliation. The cat lifted his weapon high.
"....... Three."
For the next minute-and-a-half, Lord Darth Maul forced his mind into a secluded dark corner, where he was safe for the time being. Like a controlled coma, there was only a slight pressure as the Khajiit forced his whip down hard into his prisoner's flesh. The glass tore, and the nails ripped. It made way through the cloth of his protective cloak, and pulled layers of skin from its place to reveal tender muscle underneath. In the echoing abyss of his mind, Maul could hear his flesh tearing like the sound of fabric when he became angry. Blood kerplunked, and stained the floor at his feet, but he only closed his eyes in the dark corner, and waited for it to be over. The whip made a blow at his chest, and a shard of glass touched one of his ribs as it pulled a long strip of flesh along with it.
Shegorad watched in apprehensive displeasure as each blow only made the Sith stronger. No prisoner of hers had ever remained on their feet for this long, and she was growing ever-the-more agitated t his stubborn will. Probably taught by that ruffian, Sidious. Growling in her ira, she managed to lift her hand, and the guard stopped shy of another blow.
"Enough, Gantu......" She began sullenly, "Take him back to solitary confinement, and let my son do as he wishes with him."
The Khajiit nodded, just as disappointed as his queen. He obviously wanted very badly to break, and humiliate the Sith as much as she did, but there would be another prisoner at another time for that. Growling slightly, he forced Maul around, and bade him march back.
Only when the heavy iron door of his cubicle shut, and the overbearing Khajiiti left did the trapped Sith allow himself from the coma he had induced upon his being. Immediately, his body gave out, and fell from the loss of blood, but Maul managed to drag himself on shaking arms toward the three-by-five metal cot that was his bed. No sheets to wrap his bleeding wounds with, and only the mangled cloak to warm his shivering body. He found an unmarked strip of cloth, and tore it off, wrapping it around the worst injury he had, or at least he wished he could wrap it.
His pride.
Instead, it was used on a particularly long excursion that graced his shoulder. Beneath the skin, he could see pink muscle throbbing in protest at being revealed to the world, and he hissed slightly in pain as the pressure from the material stung badly on the tender area. Forcing his legs into a crossed position, Maul let down his defenses, and began to meditate as he had done all last night. But with a body that throbbed constantly, it was difficult to concentrate, and his mind wandered......
"This had better not happen again, apprentice...... It will be the only time I will ever come looking for your pitiful body...... Much less heal you. I can't waste precious time watching over you like a mother."
"Yes, master. Forgive me...... I deserve to die at the hands of a Jedi......"
"You are dismissed, apprentice. Get out of my sight......"
Controlledmind controlledmind CONTROL YOUR MIND!!! Maul screamed at himself. He jumped slightly at his own inner voice, and therein scolded his own being even more. Great...... Not even two days in this Hell, and he was already becoming a schizophrenic. His open wounds throbbed, giving a flimsy attempt at healing quickly without the force. Kalaskein, the Quinya...... it was too much.
"No...... Don't let these corrupted individual's lies misdirect your mind! There is no Kalaskein...... no Quinya...... it is all only a prevarication of their own making....." It made him feel a little better, but there was still the fact of his emperor. How he wished with every fiber of his being that he could use the force to contact his master, and at least know if he was alive. Darth Maul sighed inwardly, knowing patience was his only ally in this fight. They would interrogate, and probably torture him for their damned information, but would he give it to them?
Hell no.
He smiled a grim smile, baring once more his fierce canines. The pain would only make him stronger. He relished it; he cherished it. That feeling was just a mortal feeling. A weakness, so desperately leaving the body.
His stomach growled. Maul looked down at himself, and realized with a snort that he had not eaten for five days. It was taking a toll on his already- healing body, and he cursed outwardly for this inane helplessness. He would need to eat soon, or collapse the moment they brought him out again.
"Hello, wench."
The Sith looked up quickly, hiding his surprise a bit too late. Raphael stood outside of the accursed restraints that held his prisoner, smiling a smile that hardly made do with politeness. He was wearing a beautifully extravagant robe, and ( much to suit his taste) it was black.
"I ask you one question, bantha." He began with a drawling accent, "If you answer, it will save you much humiliation, and suffering. Suffering that....." He paused to smile, "I'm sure not even your beloved emperor would want to feel......" He smiled again, but now there was a glint in his malefic eyes. Maul stared, and his mind slowly began to lose control. He panicked. There had been a glint like that before, and he knew it all-too- well.
Lust.
Without waiting, Raphael opened the cell, and stepped in, deprived of any guards to watch over him. The Sith would have never admitted it to anyone, but the prince of Gattaca had the advantage over him. He looked to be in the six-foot range, but Maul was uncannily short, with a maximum height of only five-foot-nine. In the everlasting laws of the universe, this made Raphael the alpha, and him the bitch. (A/N: Must...... not...... think....... nasty...... thoughts......)
The prince slowly strode over to his prey, taking his time with what little he had. Maul stood to face him with malicious golden eyes, and fear was unrecognizable in them. He watched, never allowing himself to make eye contact, as his keeper paced around him three times, just as the bounty hunter had so long ago, until Raphael finally made his move.
****A/N: NOBODY UNDER 17!!!*************************************************
Maul's sluggish body would not respond as the prince's smooth hand lashed out, and curled slowly around his black throat, pinning him forcefully against the wall. His eyes stared lustfully, and he came very close to his prisoner's face.
"Where...... is...... the...... emperor......" He slurred out every word so that the Sith could understand perfectly, challenging him to try and fight back. However, the dark warrior did not respond. Just stared, and struggled to breathe behind the iron grip of his captor. Raphael smiled, showing his perfect teeth.
"Oh...... naughty, naughty boy......" He hissed, and pushed his weight downward, so that Maul came with him until they reached the floor. At this time, he forced the Sith's bracers back so that his muscular biceps were clearly visible against the silvery chrome of his prison, and tied his hands tightly against a loophole that jutted from the smooth wall. Now he was helpless.
Raphael took this time to lust intentionally over his whore's body, and let his aroused eyes travel over each and every millimeter of smooth, tasteful skin he had to offer. He let go of his throat, and allowed his hands to unconsciously travel down his lean chest, then to his lightly toned stomach, down to his crotch, and halfway down his legs before going back to his crotch again. Maul only stared at the ceiling as this commenced, but snarled from the pits of his chest as the prince's unwanted fingers touched, and prodded at his groin with lustful pleasure.
Raphael smiled wickedly at the Sith's discomfort, and quickly removed his robes to reveal his pulsating sex, leaning down once more to begin kissing him. He bit his whore's neck emphatically, and all-the-while removed his shadowy leggings with newfound pleasure. Maul bit back his urge to attack, and kill, for patience was his only ally at this point. Wait for the most opportune moment, and then make him suffer.
The prince, with sudden a sudden drive of adrenaline, forcefully drove the Sith's legs apart, and placed himself on top of him. His smooth hands groped down his back, and curved over his butt until he felt the sure opening, while he continued to vigorously kiss his new pet. Raphael smiled madly, and forced one finger into the exposed hole, and he saw the Sith's face contort slightly with rage, and pain. Still, he continued this until he had forced three fingers in, and suddenly allowed himself to slide his manliness into the newfound opening.
Darth Maul, in all his long years of life, had never expected one thing such as this to hurt so much. Raphael was relentless, and he pounded his prisoner into the floor like a madman. He hammered the Sith over, and over again until Maul began to wonder if he would ever let down. His face pinched in contorted agony, but he refused to give the Prince his pleasure of seeing him scream.
Raphael smiled as he began to let down, making his prisoner think that he was finally over. Indeed, the dark warrior did let an exhausted sigh escape his lips, but it was here that the wicked prince thrust his whole length into him with one last movement, and released his seed. The Sith bit back a scream of intense, and unshed agony, and broke the skin on his lip doing so.
*****A/N: Done now!***********************************************************
Raphael stood, baring a toothy smile, and pulled his robe around him once more. "That was a good run, whore......" He said wickedly, "Perhaps you will give me even greater pleasure tomorrow night."
Not even bothering to unlock the decrepit prisoner from the wall, he turned, and strode from the cubicle as if nothing had happened. However, it was an unneeded gesture. Darth maul only lay there like a pathetic child, shaking in tormented pain and suffering. He didn't cry, though. Sith don't cry. And he, most of all, didn't know how to cry.
But, he did do something that cold night that he hadn't done in over ten years. Ten years since he came into Sidious' hands, and lost all feeling of emotion.
He sat up slowly, put his hands together, and prayed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: NOOOOO!!!! THE TORTURE HAS BEGUN!!! WILL ANYONE SAVE OUR FAVORITE SITH?!? WILL RAPHAEL FINALLY SEE A SHRINK?!? WILL I STOP TALKING IN CAPS?!?!?! Find out on the next chapter of My Lonely!!!
***WARNING*** YAOI AND LEMON!!!! I WILL MARK THE SPACE WHERE NOBODY UNDER 17 SHOULD READ WITH STARS!!!
******************************************
JUST LIKE THAT, OKAY??? I'LL SAY IT AGAIN:
******DO NOT READ UNDER THIS LINE IF YOU AREN'T 17***********************
Okay! We're cool, then! On with the chappie!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^
His haunting auld eyes remained closed in deep meditation for the next twenty-four hours. Serene, and accepting, no mere mortal being could have ever known by his face that he was one of the most notorious assassins to ever grace the universe's presence. A Sith. A warrior. The dark knight. Maul could feel the force buzzing around him like a swarm of angry bees, wanting him to take them, use his anger for them. Control the bees, and sting the wenches who threatened to get in his way. However, because of the strange restraints locked tightly around his wrists, the bees remained out of reach.
By the lack of guards, and flimsy security, Maul inferred that Raphael had wanted him to feel alone, and forgotten. Good luck trying. Sidious had placed his only apprentice on the secluded planet of Dagobah for a whole damned month; left him stranded alone, and to build his own shelters. Get his own food. It hadn't bothered the Sith Lord, for he had been alone his whole forsaken life. His master cared nothing of him but as a valuable ally, trained to be a drone to his commands, and made to kill every Jedi in his path. Master an apprentice were merely that: Master and apprentice. Nothing more. Nothing less.
He opened his malicious eyes once more, and his body released from its relaxed, meditative state to enter the tense, and always-on-guard state. There were voices. Darth Maul watched, devoid of any emotion, as four of the native cat-species guards unlocked his pristine chrome cell, and bound his neck with a titanium shackle. Some carried guns, others carried vibro- blasters. They were obviously afraid, weak-minded individuals who would have no hope whatsoever at resisting a mind-trick. Even without the force, their prisoner could sense that. But that was the problem. Even without the force......
Quickly, they led him to the throne room where Queen Shegorad sat alone upon her mahogany commode. She watched in a royal nothingness as they dragged their heavily cicatrice captive towards her feet, but also upon his. She grimaced smugly, knowing that he would have to be broken from this, and that she would leave to her son.
The cat-people stopped about twenty feet from the throne, and fell to their knees in retribution. Maul stared like an empty shell, refusing to bow along with them. 'Ere to none I shall accede but you, Lord Sidious.' The vow he had made before the Dark Emperor over ten years ago still ran through his forcefelt mind, and that vow was not one to be interrupted. 'Nay under the threat of torture, nor death shalt I smite this promise to thee, my Emperor.'
"You dishonor yourself, prisoner, by defying the sacred law of Khajiit." Shegorad spat out the word prisoner like she was spitting on Maul. He, however, only continued to stare silently past her. Out into space, where he was so at home.
'And shalt I keep this vow to thee until released by your mouth,'
The queen stood slowly upon her worn knees, and snapped her knotted old fingers. Arthritis was clearly ran through her veins. A cat-man stood, and brought from his belt a primitive weapon, indeed. A whip. He held it in front of the Sith, and raised it, as if trying to intimidate him. "Bow down to your new ruler, slime, or I will make you bow." Shegorad hissed
'Or taken...... by death.'
Maul continued to gaze defiantly past her, as if he did not even notice the deranged weapon of torture before him, interwoven with nails, and shards of broken glass. His eyes were distant, and calm.
"One......" The queen began. Her guard with the whip tightened his hand around the hilt, and the Sith still did not bow.
"Two......" She held up her knotty fingers, showing him that he only had one second left to choose between pain, or humiliation. The cat lifted his weapon high.
"....... Three."
For the next minute-and-a-half, Lord Darth Maul forced his mind into a secluded dark corner, where he was safe for the time being. Like a controlled coma, there was only a slight pressure as the Khajiit forced his whip down hard into his prisoner's flesh. The glass tore, and the nails ripped. It made way through the cloth of his protective cloak, and pulled layers of skin from its place to reveal tender muscle underneath. In the echoing abyss of his mind, Maul could hear his flesh tearing like the sound of fabric when he became angry. Blood kerplunked, and stained the floor at his feet, but he only closed his eyes in the dark corner, and waited for it to be over. The whip made a blow at his chest, and a shard of glass touched one of his ribs as it pulled a long strip of flesh along with it.
Shegorad watched in apprehensive displeasure as each blow only made the Sith stronger. No prisoner of hers had ever remained on their feet for this long, and she was growing ever-the-more agitated t his stubborn will. Probably taught by that ruffian, Sidious. Growling in her ira, she managed to lift her hand, and the guard stopped shy of another blow.
"Enough, Gantu......" She began sullenly, "Take him back to solitary confinement, and let my son do as he wishes with him."
The Khajiit nodded, just as disappointed as his queen. He obviously wanted very badly to break, and humiliate the Sith as much as she did, but there would be another prisoner at another time for that. Growling slightly, he forced Maul around, and bade him march back.
Only when the heavy iron door of his cubicle shut, and the overbearing Khajiiti left did the trapped Sith allow himself from the coma he had induced upon his being. Immediately, his body gave out, and fell from the loss of blood, but Maul managed to drag himself on shaking arms toward the three-by-five metal cot that was his bed. No sheets to wrap his bleeding wounds with, and only the mangled cloak to warm his shivering body. He found an unmarked strip of cloth, and tore it off, wrapping it around the worst injury he had, or at least he wished he could wrap it.
His pride.
Instead, it was used on a particularly long excursion that graced his shoulder. Beneath the skin, he could see pink muscle throbbing in protest at being revealed to the world, and he hissed slightly in pain as the pressure from the material stung badly on the tender area. Forcing his legs into a crossed position, Maul let down his defenses, and began to meditate as he had done all last night. But with a body that throbbed constantly, it was difficult to concentrate, and his mind wandered......
"This had better not happen again, apprentice...... It will be the only time I will ever come looking for your pitiful body...... Much less heal you. I can't waste precious time watching over you like a mother."
"Yes, master. Forgive me...... I deserve to die at the hands of a Jedi......"
"You are dismissed, apprentice. Get out of my sight......"
Controlledmind controlledmind CONTROL YOUR MIND!!! Maul screamed at himself. He jumped slightly at his own inner voice, and therein scolded his own being even more. Great...... Not even two days in this Hell, and he was already becoming a schizophrenic. His open wounds throbbed, giving a flimsy attempt at healing quickly without the force. Kalaskein, the Quinya...... it was too much.
"No...... Don't let these corrupted individual's lies misdirect your mind! There is no Kalaskein...... no Quinya...... it is all only a prevarication of their own making....." It made him feel a little better, but there was still the fact of his emperor. How he wished with every fiber of his being that he could use the force to contact his master, and at least know if he was alive. Darth Maul sighed inwardly, knowing patience was his only ally in this fight. They would interrogate, and probably torture him for their damned information, but would he give it to them?
Hell no.
He smiled a grim smile, baring once more his fierce canines. The pain would only make him stronger. He relished it; he cherished it. That feeling was just a mortal feeling. A weakness, so desperately leaving the body.
His stomach growled. Maul looked down at himself, and realized with a snort that he had not eaten for five days. It was taking a toll on his already- healing body, and he cursed outwardly for this inane helplessness. He would need to eat soon, or collapse the moment they brought him out again.
"Hello, wench."
The Sith looked up quickly, hiding his surprise a bit too late. Raphael stood outside of the accursed restraints that held his prisoner, smiling a smile that hardly made do with politeness. He was wearing a beautifully extravagant robe, and ( much to suit his taste) it was black.
"I ask you one question, bantha." He began with a drawling accent, "If you answer, it will save you much humiliation, and suffering. Suffering that....." He paused to smile, "I'm sure not even your beloved emperor would want to feel......" He smiled again, but now there was a glint in his malefic eyes. Maul stared, and his mind slowly began to lose control. He panicked. There had been a glint like that before, and he knew it all-too- well.
Lust.
Without waiting, Raphael opened the cell, and stepped in, deprived of any guards to watch over him. The Sith would have never admitted it to anyone, but the prince of Gattaca had the advantage over him. He looked to be in the six-foot range, but Maul was uncannily short, with a maximum height of only five-foot-nine. In the everlasting laws of the universe, this made Raphael the alpha, and him the bitch. (A/N: Must...... not...... think....... nasty...... thoughts......)
The prince slowly strode over to his prey, taking his time with what little he had. Maul stood to face him with malicious golden eyes, and fear was unrecognizable in them. He watched, never allowing himself to make eye contact, as his keeper paced around him three times, just as the bounty hunter had so long ago, until Raphael finally made his move.
****A/N: NOBODY UNDER 17!!!*************************************************
Maul's sluggish body would not respond as the prince's smooth hand lashed out, and curled slowly around his black throat, pinning him forcefully against the wall. His eyes stared lustfully, and he came very close to his prisoner's face.
"Where...... is...... the...... emperor......" He slurred out every word so that the Sith could understand perfectly, challenging him to try and fight back. However, the dark warrior did not respond. Just stared, and struggled to breathe behind the iron grip of his captor. Raphael smiled, showing his perfect teeth.
"Oh...... naughty, naughty boy......" He hissed, and pushed his weight downward, so that Maul came with him until they reached the floor. At this time, he forced the Sith's bracers back so that his muscular biceps were clearly visible against the silvery chrome of his prison, and tied his hands tightly against a loophole that jutted from the smooth wall. Now he was helpless.
Raphael took this time to lust intentionally over his whore's body, and let his aroused eyes travel over each and every millimeter of smooth, tasteful skin he had to offer. He let go of his throat, and allowed his hands to unconsciously travel down his lean chest, then to his lightly toned stomach, down to his crotch, and halfway down his legs before going back to his crotch again. Maul only stared at the ceiling as this commenced, but snarled from the pits of his chest as the prince's unwanted fingers touched, and prodded at his groin with lustful pleasure.
Raphael smiled wickedly at the Sith's discomfort, and quickly removed his robes to reveal his pulsating sex, leaning down once more to begin kissing him. He bit his whore's neck emphatically, and all-the-while removed his shadowy leggings with newfound pleasure. Maul bit back his urge to attack, and kill, for patience was his only ally at this point. Wait for the most opportune moment, and then make him suffer.
The prince, with sudden a sudden drive of adrenaline, forcefully drove the Sith's legs apart, and placed himself on top of him. His smooth hands groped down his back, and curved over his butt until he felt the sure opening, while he continued to vigorously kiss his new pet. Raphael smiled madly, and forced one finger into the exposed hole, and he saw the Sith's face contort slightly with rage, and pain. Still, he continued this until he had forced three fingers in, and suddenly allowed himself to slide his manliness into the newfound opening.
Darth Maul, in all his long years of life, had never expected one thing such as this to hurt so much. Raphael was relentless, and he pounded his prisoner into the floor like a madman. He hammered the Sith over, and over again until Maul began to wonder if he would ever let down. His face pinched in contorted agony, but he refused to give the Prince his pleasure of seeing him scream.
Raphael smiled as he began to let down, making his prisoner think that he was finally over. Indeed, the dark warrior did let an exhausted sigh escape his lips, but it was here that the wicked prince thrust his whole length into him with one last movement, and released his seed. The Sith bit back a scream of intense, and unshed agony, and broke the skin on his lip doing so.
*****A/N: Done now!***********************************************************
Raphael stood, baring a toothy smile, and pulled his robe around him once more. "That was a good run, whore......" He said wickedly, "Perhaps you will give me even greater pleasure tomorrow night."
Not even bothering to unlock the decrepit prisoner from the wall, he turned, and strode from the cubicle as if nothing had happened. However, it was an unneeded gesture. Darth maul only lay there like a pathetic child, shaking in tormented pain and suffering. He didn't cry, though. Sith don't cry. And he, most of all, didn't know how to cry.
But, he did do something that cold night that he hadn't done in over ten years. Ten years since he came into Sidious' hands, and lost all feeling of emotion.
He sat up slowly, put his hands together, and prayed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: NOOOOO!!!! THE TORTURE HAS BEGUN!!! WILL ANYONE SAVE OUR FAVORITE SITH?!? WILL RAPHAEL FINALLY SEE A SHRINK?!? WILL I STOP TALKING IN CAPS?!?!?! Find out on the next chapter of My Lonely!!!