Sorry for always revising and stuff. This will probably be the last time, but I'm trying to write longer chapters. Short update at the end. If I get no reviews, this story will be on hiatus.

Big thanks to: A.A. Valanche, Crystal, hitokiri-tomoe, Jeca, lil-yoshimi, natt, SakK, and UreyEz13

OCs, story/title/penname/summary/other suggestions, and flames are welcome.


Chapter One

4 years later

A black-clad figure walked amongst the shadows, blending in with his surroundings. Silently, he entered the seemingly empty factory.

Amber eyes narrowed as they caught a slight movement. In a flash, the figure pointed his gun to his right and shot.

A groan was heard before a body slumped onto the floor, dead.

It was doubtful anyone heard the gunshot, as the factory was soundproof. Big mistake.

The figure hurried along the desert corridor until he reached his destination: a shabby door with its paint peeling due to decades of neglect.

With a kick, the door fell to the floor. A small crashing could be heard.

He gave a soft scoff. He didn't think powerful mob enemies would be so careless as to leave their meeting place so unguarded and easily manipulated. Was this some sort of trap?

Before any of the room's occupants had a chance to react, they were all shot dead with a bullet to their heart.

"What pathetic idiots," the killer thought.

Suddenly a man dressed in a black suit charged out at the guy who had killed his gang, a sharp knife attached to his fat hand.

The figure moved out of the way, but not before he was stabbed in his shoulder blade. Trickles of blood spilled onto his black jacket, but it was nothing he wasn't used to.

Compared to his previous injuries, this looked like a small paper cut.

Grunting, he turned around to meet face to face with the ugliest person he had ever seen in all his years of killing. No wait...in all the years of his entire life.

Giant, light purple patches covered the man's face. His head was shiny and bald. Something bright and red had been smeared on his disgustingly cracked lips and his numbers of chins were hard to tell. Wrinkles could be seen everywhere.

The figure shuddered inwardly. This gruesome guy was a mob leader? He probably killed by showing his face to his enemies.

Seeing the look on the killer's face made the man's frown deepen.

"What?" he growled.

He got no reply in return but a low chuckle. This pushed his boiling point to the limit.

"You bastard!" he shouted in rage.

The killer cocked one eyebrow. "Tisk tisk. Such foul language. But then again, what did I expect from such an ugly, foul man?"

That comment was the last straw.

The ugly man took out a gun just as the killer began to pull the gun to the ugly fat man's face, hoping to give the leader a quick death. But the killer underestimated his overweight opponent.

He quickly kicked the dark figure and ran to hide behind the protection of the many boxes. It may have been a wimpy way out but he succeeded nevertheless.

The killer slowly walked to the box that the fat man was hiding behind and pointed the gun at it, about to pull the trigger, when all of the sudden, an unknown force jumped up and crushed him.

He looked up expecting the worst, but it turned out to be the ugly mob leader.

Both pointing guns at each other, the killer brought his leg up from under the leader and gave him a good, hard kick. The fact that he had many years of martial arts training helped.

The man winced a little and the killer took this chance to whip the gun out of the man's hand. However this did not effect the man whatsoever, as he just swatted away the gun.

He got up, about to run to his black pistol when all of a sudden, the killer jumped on him and severely battered him with a whirlpool of punches.

The fist-to-fist combat was finally stopped when the fat man got the upper hand and threw him across the room.

He had finally retrieved his gun and slowly started to walk up to the killer, who loaded his gun with more bullets and pulled it up to eye level. When the killer stood up, he pointed the gun straight at the man.

Quick as a flash, the killer dropped and rolled.

He threw a knife at the man, which landed straight on its target; right between the man's eyes. The man gasped in shock while wondering how his opponent moved so fast.

He staggered. Never before had he been in so much agonizing pain.

The knife that pierced through his flesh was projecting out of his head and he could feel tissues in his head being pushed out of the way to make room for it. Bleed began streaming down his face rapidly.

He should've been grateful though, because the killer had done a lot worse. Like that time he threw three knives and shot countless bullets into a man, avoiding critical areas so the man could die slowly and painfully. And he was in a good mood that day...

"What a lousy fighter. I expected more from a mob leader. And I thought I would get a challenge today. You've been very disappointing. Well, guess I can't always have what I want."

He didn't usually talk while he was killing, but he was agitated that he didn't get a better fight. How this group managed to make a name for themselves was beyond him. He had heard their brutality was to be feared. What a big joke.

With those last comments, he positioned the gun at the man's heart. "Any last words?"

"Yeah. Go to Hell." He could barely breathe, let alone speak. The killer gave a whole new meaning to the words, "take my breath away."

With each word he said, another few precious seconds were taken away from what little time he had left, but he'd be damned if he died without pride.

The figure sighed inwardly. How many times had he heard that before?

This man acted tough, but they both knew deep inside, he was shaking. His eyes even looked kind of teary. Probably thinking about his family and his life and how he had so many regrets. Well, didn't they all.

He half expected the man to start sobbing.

It was surprising he was still functioning. Most people wouldn't if they had the entire blade of a three-inch knife in their head. Might as well end his torture now, before the inside of the head started leaking out and he got a worse sight than the man's ugly face covered in red.

A shot rang out and a cry was heard a second later. The man's body dropped to the group with a soft thud and everything went quiet.

The room was now a mess. Bodies laid spread out of the floor, some still leaking trails of blood. Red was splattered on the wall like paint. Bullets littered the floor where there weren't boxes scattered everywhere. The person cleaning up this room had his work cut out for him...

Smirking, the figure exited as silently as he had come, once more blending in with the darkness. His face never betrayed any emotion.

"Survival of the fittest. Killed or be killed."

He found himself at the edge of a cliff, overlooking the calm ocean water.

He wished he could be like the water...so carefree and flowing in whichever direction it pleased to. He wondered what it would be like to jump off. Not that he would.

Everywhere he went, all he brought was pain to the people he encountered. It gave him a thrill when he took away their lives. Their pain brought him pleasure.

It didn't matter to him if that made him inhumane; he already knew he wasn't what others perceived as normal and he didn't give a shit what they thought.

His parents had died when he was only a baby and he bounced from family to family in his childhood until he turned eighteen.

Throughout those years, he had been beaten and abused far more than a child could imagine. There had been no one to be there for him.

His jealous "siblings" had laughed at him and beat him up even more. Eventually, he learned to fight back and that's when it got hard for his adoption agency.

He also learned to ignore his feelings and had forgotten what they felt like. No family wanted a kid that just sat there, no smile on his face, much less one that didn't even talk.

After pummelling a boy, who was bullying him, to near unconsciousness, he was never adopted by anyone again.

It was just lucky the boy's parents found him before he had found the hammer...

Of course, no one bothered listening to his side of the story.

He was used to loneliness and thought of it as normal, something everyone felt.

He didn't know the meaning of true happiness. To him, the empty feeling inside him was happiness and great depression was sadness, but he didn't dwell much on emotions.

"Emotions are for the weak. The pathetic who cling to dearly to their sad lives when they're better off dead," he thought to himself.

The world would be so much better if everyone saw things he way he did.

The whole point of life was dying, right? He didn't see any other reason why people lived. He was doing a good thing by sending people off to their fate earlier than later, before they viewed their life too precious. They took everything for granted anyways.

He didn't understand why people always made up excuses like, "Please don't kill me. I have a wife and children."

The only reason for their existence was someone else. They became dependent for someone to give them life, and once that someone was gone, their world shattered.

Hope was such a waste. Only those who hoped were truly hopeless.

Those who lived for someone became alone in the end anyways. He had learned that the hard way... for he too, used to have someone he cared about...

He began to walk away from the cliff, his jacket billowing softly in the wind.

Later

Inside a dimly lit room, the television blared the nightly news.

"Today, members of an undisclosed mob were found shot dead inside an abandoned factory. Police are not currently discussing any information, but sources say they were very powerful and influential in the underground business. It is not certain how they died or why, but it has been rumoured to be murder. Stay tuned for further updates," the newswoman said.

Cruel laughter bounced off the walls as cigar smoke rose, giving the cold, bare room a swirly, grey mist.

"Li Syaoran. Excellent job. You didn't waste time. I'm very pleased." hissed a cold voice.

The man who had earlier terminated all the members of a notorious gang in Asia nodded.

"You will be handsomely rewarded. I believe this goes towards your school funding?" Once again, the guy named Li nodded.

"I also understand you no longer wish to be apart of my business. Why?"

"I have decided I do not want to spend the rest of my life doing this."

That was partly the truth. He was sick of being ordered around by people who were half as skilled as he was. He had enough money and he didn't need any more. The money wasn't even for school anyways.

The man was laughing inside. It was impossible to get out once you got in. Syaoran knew too much and maybe it was time to get rid of him anyways...

It was hard to trust these kinds of people. They would betray you just for their own benefits.

"You have served me well and I shall honour your wish. However, there is one last job I want you to do for me, located in Japan. It is very important; it's for a close friend of mine. If you succeed, you will receive an eight figure amount and be set for life," said the man.

"Do you accept?"

Syaoran knew he wouldn't be able to get out of this business that easily. The only way out was death. His "employer" would get rid of him once he finished with him.

Syaoran wasn't scared of death, but he didn't want to die just yet. He'd find a way to get rid of his boss before his boss got rid of him... after all, he was way stronger than the boss.

To the man, he answered, "Yes, sir."

"Very well." A thin manila folder was tossed at Syaoran. He opened the folder to find another murder task, this one of a young girl.

He was to hold her ransom, then await further instructions. Once the money was received, he would kill the girl in front of the person who gave him the money, then kill that person too.

An easy task, with quick, cleans kills. He would have this done in no time.

Leafing past all the other pages, Syaoran found a picture of the girl.

She was quite pretty, with shoulder length auburn hair and captivating green eyes. She couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen. This would be the second youngest person he would kill.

The youngest had been an annoying five-year-old who tried to stop him from killing her precious mommy.

Little did she know her mother was an international drug dealer and gang member who killed more innocent children than all the people Syaoran had killed altogether, so in killing her, Syaoran was actually save other children.

He hoped this girl couldn't cry and whine like the five-year-old had.

The only weird thing about the girl was her expression.

She appeared cold and without a care. Her eyes seemed dead and like they could see right through anything, but being the perceptive person Syaoran was, he could see a small tinge of sadness.

Syaoran could see some similarities between him and her just by a single photo. Then again, she probably didn't kill others for money and thrills. Plus he would never be caught dead showing useless feelings.

This weakling probably had her whole life ahead of her, but he would take that all away.

It was sad, she probably wouldn't put up a struggle, and this was his last job. The more they struggled uselessly against death, the more entertaining it was to kill them.

He wondered if she had people who loved her and would miss her. Maybe he could have fun killing them too, to end their misery.

Oh well. Why should he care about this stupid girl? Not like he cared about any of the other people he had so unmercifully killed.

" You are emotionless. You don't think. You don't feel. You only kill and by killing, you live," he reminded himself. That had been his motto for as long as he could remember.

Turning to the back of the glossy photo, Syaoran found the name of his next victim scrawled in a messy scribble.

"Kinomoto Sakura," he whispered.

Days Later

A petite young woman walked down the quiet, deserted streets of Tomoeda, Japan. It seemed she was the only one out today, for the rain had decided to fall and the gray clouds blocked out the sun.

Unbeknownst to her, she was being followed...

She turned into a narrow alley that she usually took to cut short her trip home.

Unlike other women, she didn't have any trouble walking into a dark, empty area where no one could save her should she get into any situations.

Suddenly, she felt herself being thrown into the brick wall, the air in her lungs knocked out of her.

Her back of her head hit the wall first, blurring her vision for a few seconds, but she could see the outline of a man hovering over her.

That was the last thing she remembered before a cloth was put over her nose and she blacked out.


When she came to, she found herself with her arms tied behind her back and her legs bound with thick ropes. A gag had been put in her mouth.

Her head felt like hammers were trying to smash it open and she could tell there was a big bump on it. It felt even worse than a hangover.

'Gee, I was knocked out in a dark alley after being attacked by a man, who used unknown chemicals to make me pass out. Now I'm stuck in a dark room with my body all tied up, so I can't move, and my head feels like shit. I must be in a fucking movie,' she thought sarcastically.

She had barely finished her train of thought when the door flew open, allowing a ray of light to pass into the room.

Ugh. Light. Just what she needed right now to make her feel better.

Luckily, she was saved when a shadow loomed over her. Unfortunately, the shadow pulled a string dangling above her head so that a light bulb switched on.

She strained her eyes trying to adjust to the light. When her vision came into focus, she found herself staring into a pair of dark eyes.

The gag was removed from her mouth.

"Kinomoto Sakura. Nice to finally meet you," said the newcomer.

Her eyes roamed him, as if deciding whether he was worth walking to.

Long, stringy hair attached to an average head and body. Beady eyes. Thin lips.

"..." Apparently, she had decided he wasn't.

The man frowned at her muteness.

"I suppose you're wondering who I am." It came out as more of a statement than a question.

'Actually no, I usually have strangers tie me up and lock me to a dark room, so I don't really care...' There goes her sarcastic thoughts again...

The man was starting to get really pissed off now. "Talk dammit!" he growled out.

Sakura glared at him. "Fuck you." she spat coolly.

Rage simmered as the man's face turned purple.

"Do you know who I am?" he shouted.

'What's with this dude's memory? Didn't he just ask that?'

"I'm Avalon Touya! I could kill you in an instant!" he continued as if she had answered him.

"Then go right ahead," Sakura spoke in a monotone.

Touya was confused. She was supposed to be scared and begging for mercy! How was he supposed to have fun with this one? She was probably faking her apathy. Yes, that was it.

Just to test his theory, he slapped her, quick but hard. Her head snapped to the side and immediately, a red handprint appeared her milky white skin.

Sakura lifted her head and stared right into his eyes.

"I have no problem with guys hitting girls, but for you to hit me while I can't even move, you have got to be the wimpiest bastard on the planet."

She was right of course, but he would never admit it. He wanted to see her shed tears, hear her scream in agony, and feel the strength of his hands bruise her.

Thirty minutes of punches and kicks later, his desire to see her hurt wasn't fulfilled. She sat there as she had thirty minutes ago, defiant emerald eyes staring angrily at him.

The only sign that any of the punches and kicks had hit her was her black and blue body.

Sakura hadn't even felt any of it. The 'incident' four years ago had made her feel all the pain she'd ever feel in her entire life and she refused to feel any more.

She had trained herself to be numb and in the process, her body had become numb too.

Seeing the angry glint in Touya's eyes reminded her of that night... They looked exactly the way Tomoyo's had.

Suddenly, the memories she had tried so hard to forget the last few years all came rushing back...

The white walls of the hospital seem to stare at her with their emptiness. Empty...that was how she felt right now.

A nurse stood over her, eyes wide with surprise as she frantically pressed the intercom for the doctor.

For the next hour, all she felt was the needles stabbing into her body as the doctor took tests and stared at her medical charts.

Then, surrounded by police, she heard the question she dreaded to hear... "What happened to you?"

She had refused to answer. The police nodded as if they understood her feelings and left, whispering to the doctor that they'd be back in a few days.

The doctor replied back in a hushed tone, then rushed out the door to draw more test conclusions.

Looking out the window in her private room, Sakura could see families with flowers and teddy bears visiting patients.

The only thing she had to keep her company were the machines with their continuous beeping and humming.

She remembered the doctor asking about her family and her address and other miscellaneous things, but the words just whirled around in her head.

She decided right then and there that she had to escape this prison, so she did. No one seemed to notice as she ripped the IV tubes out of her arm and ran out of the hospital, still dressed in the thin hospital gown.

Hurrying back to her house, she collected all the money she had from years of pick pocketing and other small items before boarding the first train she saw.

The train's destination was Tomoeda, Japan, a small town with a population of just a little over three thousand, and she was happy just where she was, because no one knew her.

At least that's what she thought...but it seemed like someone did know her.

Sakura felt her stomach churn and that's when she threw up all over Touya's brand new, one thousand dollar imported shoes.

She felt the anger waves roll right off him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, intending to stab her with it until-

A loud slamming was heard as the door once again opened, this time revealing a well-built man with amber eyes and messy chestnut hair. He pulled his gun out and before Touya knew it, he was dead.

Sakura looked up at him, mad because she was drenched with Touya's blood. She was getting more covered with the substance each second as red sprayed out of the bullet wound.

"Who the fuck are you?" she demanded.

The stranger didn't say a word, just picked her up, carried her outside, and roughly threw her in the back of a van. The door slammed shut behind her.

The van was dark with tinted windows and had a musty odour to it.

Sakura lurched forward as the van started moving. The ride was very bumpy and she shifted around every few seconds.

She tried looking out of the windows to see where they were heading, but all she could make out were green and brown blurs.

After an hour of bumping her head on the walls, the van went still. The door was flung open and bursts of sunlight streamed in.

Sakura was quickly untied.

"Get out of the car," a voice spoke.

She did as she was told and found her herself standing outside...

a mansion?

A large white stone structure sat behind a tall iron gate. It was at least three stories high and had a yard with flowers and cherry blossoms everywhere. Even thought this was only the front yard, it seemed beautiful.

While she was thinking this, she didn't notice she was being dragged to the large house until she was at the front door.

"Get your hands off me," she demanded to the amber-eyed man.

He glared at her before pulling her inside and once again, she was knocked out with a strange chemical.


Another dim room.

'Gee, these guys aren't very original.'

Sakura looked around to find a plainly decorated room with blank walls and only a small twin bed. No windows. The light had come from a light bulb.

On the floor was a serving of rice and chicken. Dinner.

If she were any other person, Sakura would've been hysterical and worried. But the truth was, she just didn't care. Her life meant nothing to her and she lived just for the point of it.

Closing her eyes, she drifted off into what she hoped was a never-ending sleep...

Elsewhere

"I want to see her," a high, whiny voice demanded.

"Calm down dear. She's at the mansion right now," replied the voice of Syaoran's boss.

"Well, when will I be able to see her?"

"I'll make arrangements...don't you worry Tomoyo."

Back at the mansion

Sakura awoke from her nightmares when the doorbell rang. A moment of silence was heard and then the sound of footsteps on the stairs...stopping right outside her "room."

She saw the doorknob turning and in walked in the person Sakura hoped she would never see again.

Suddenly, it all made sense. How someone knew she was in Tomoeda. She had been tracked. Why she had been kidnapped. That bitch...

The sound of Tomoyo Daidouji laughing rang in her ears.

"Long time, no see, Kinomoto. You're looking better than the last time we saw each other. You're still the same ugly slut though."

Tomoyo landed on the floor, her designer dress ruined. She could do nothing but pull on Sakura's hair and claw at her while Sakura threw punches into her surgically altered face.

Sakura was quickly pulled off, but it was too late. The damage was already done. Purple blotches covered Tomoyo's face and her lips were torn and bleeding. Pretty good for five seconds of punching...

Sakura wrestled against the strong arms holding her back, but it was no use. She was tied up again and thrown against the wall.

Tomoyo stood up, seething.

"You'll pay for this." she spat. Sakura had no doubt she would...

"And you'll pay for killing Eriol," Tomoyo continued.

"What?" Sakura choked out.

"That's right. You killed him. After you left, he began going crazy and committed suicide. It's all your fault!"

She stomped out of the room.

Tomoyo threw a hissy fit when she saw her face.

"How am I going to go out like this?" she shrieked while examining her broken nails.

Syaoran mentally rolled his eyes. Out of all people who hired him, he got stuck with a dye bottle bimbo.

Tomoyo rounded on him. "This is all your fault! You should've pulled her off me sooner! Now I have bruises and ruined hair and my new bag is totally useless..." she kept rambling on and Syaoran was no longer listening to her.

"I want you to do something to her. Something to destroy her. Crush her," said Tomoyo.

Syaoran raised an eyebrow. "What do you suggest?"

Tomoyo thought for a moment, then grinned.

"I want you to make her fall in love with you and break her heart."

"What?" growled Syaoran. "I don't do that shit."

"You will if I add another million to your pay. It will be such a simple task, too. That stupid girl may appear strong, but she's so weak inside, she'll want someone to trust and love her. Pathetic. Besides, you have the looks anyone would fall for."

"So you're up for this? Good, I knew you would." Tomoyo said without waiting for a reply. She turned and left the mansion before Syaoran knew what had happened.

Another million dollars could come in handy, but how could someone like him make someone fall for him, especially someone like Kinomoto Sakura?

Thoughts whirling through his head, Syaoran headed back to check on Sakura.

He opened the door and was greeted with a mess. Sakura's glossy auburn hair was tangled in a pile on her head and her clothes were wrinkled. Her chin was bleeding from where Tomoyo had scratched her. It wasn't a very powerful scratch, but Tomoyo's sharp, manicured nails had struck a bruise delivered by Touya.

Syaoran exited the room and returned with a washcloth. Gently, he wiped the blood off Sakura's face. She flinched at his touch but surprisingly didn't protest. Syaoran himself was more surprised at the fact that he was doing this.

Silence settled in the room as Syaoran carefully dabbed at all the cuts on Sakura's arms. He saw the many scars onthem and knew that most didn't come from the encounters with Touya or Tomoyo.

Sakura felt his burning gaze on her but they both never spoke a word. While he put disinfectant on her cuts, she studied him. He was pretty good looking, she noted.

'Ugh. Why would I think about these things, especially now?'

"What kind of idiot puts a hostage in a mansion?" Sakura's voice was hoarse from lack of water.

Syaoran frowned. "It wasn't my idea. Besides, if that's what everyone thinks, they wouldn't bother looking here for you."

Sakura laughed, though very bitterly. "They wouldn't bother looking for me anywhere. They wouldn't notice."

Syaoran didn't reply, but instead untied Sakura and led her to another room. This one was a light green colour, with a soft queen-sized mattress, but still no windows. A television sat in the corner adjacent to the bed.

"This is your room."

Seeing the confused look on Sakura's face, Syaoran continued. "My idiotic boss is big on hospitality."

He had his hand on the doorknob, ready to leave when Sakura spoke.

"Whose the idiot? You're the one working for him." Syaoran chose not to reply and left Sakura staring at her new room.

She heard the click behind her indicating the door locking and a muffled voice spoke.

"Clothing in the closet. Bathroom on the right. Meals will be delivered to you." Sakura noticed his sentences were short and to the point.

Sakura opened the closet and found hundreds of tops and bottoms, ranging from tanks to dress and skirts to track pants She selected a black pair of pajamas and surveyed the room.

It was way better than the one-room apartment she lived in for the past few years. You didn't get paid much doing odd jobs and cleaning other people's homes. At least here, she wasn't a maid. If she died here, she'd at least die happy.

It was the first in a long time that Sakura had slept in such a warm, comfy bed. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the luxury feel of the soft silk before sleep claimed her...

A little girl hid in the corner, her sobs echoing. In front of her were the fallen bodies of her parents. They were bleeding excessively, but the little girl knew they were alive. They promised her they would always be with her.

The girl saw her mother's hand twitch and she smiled. They didn't break their promise after all! Slowly, her parents got up, still bleeding, and walked towards her. The girl could see a demonic look in their eyes and she started to get scared. Her father wrapped his hands around her throat and...

Sakura woke up with a start. She sighed and wondered if she would ever get a good night's sleep. Different nightmares had been haunting her for years now and it was starting to make her an insomniac.

Closing her eyes for the final time that night, she allowed the darkness to plague her once again, her tortured mind still haunted with images.

Syaoran

Syaoran laid awake, unable to sleep. He wondered how he was going to go on with Tomoyo's request. He had only gone out with a few people and it was a waste. Having seen one romantic movie and observing the people at his school, he decided love was a stupid thing.

He had passed countless girls in the hallways crying their hearts out while the guys pushed them away. Tons of money was spent in an effort to make someone like them and time was wasted, only to have relationships end.

There was something different about Sakura though. She didn't seem like the materialistic airheads he met. Her voice kept playing in his head. "They wouldn't bother looking for me anywhere. They wouldn't notice."

Was this her way of trying to get attention; by acting like some bitter, depressed person? No…she looked like attention was the last thing she wanted.

He had to get this done in a month and Syaoran wasn't the type of person to give up.

Her voice kept floating around his head. It was a soft and melodic sound, surprising from such a mouth filled with vulgar language. He sighed. Where were his thoughts leading him now?

He wondered if he would end up like those stupid characters in movies and books who play around with someone and end up realizing they were in love when it was too late. He laughed silently at that thought. Like that ever happened in real life. Especially not his life; love didn't exist in his.

Groaning, he turned over in his bed and decided to call it a day.


I know this story is very cliché, but it's going to turn out way differently then you're expecting in the end. Also, Syaoran may sound like a crazy killer but he's not. He just gets a thrill out of killing people because of the tension and the rush (not that I know anything about that xP).