Well, muna's being a stubborn brat right now and is too busy reading other fanfics about Kingdom Hearts to update Help me Please,, so i'll just update this story again.
Disclaimer- I do not own. Just as simple as that, it doesn't belong to me and never will
Warnings- More character death animal death included; Moody, very potty mouthed 16 year old Fayt (ooc definately); THE SOPHIA LOVERS CAN STOP READING NOW it's not gonna be pretty...
"Horrible memories are sometimes unescapable, no matter how hard we try. You'll forget for awhile, but then it will hit you with more force then you can imagine.. It's just an endless cycle, continuing 'til we just lose it all and shatter... And even then, they'll haunt you while you mend the pieces, waiting for you to be restored, just to break you again..." Quote from Muna's story for english class Broken on the Sand
NO ONE CAN COME IN
Chapter 1- That which runs, shall be followed
(Fayt Leingod, age sixteen, point of view)
Ten years. It's been ten years since my father was murdered, I was raped, and my mother left with Luther. Ten years of being ridiculed and scorned for being the son of a murderer. Ten years of having that event reply in my dreams every other night.
Ten long years, and the scars never faded. My body has healed, but the words still remain engraved in my fleash. The words that mark me as his. A name that he so 'lovingly' gave me that night, "My Angel Of Destruction"
I think this all as sit at the bus stop alone. It's the first day of yet another new school. This time I moved because the last family I had was killed 'mysteriously' in a fire while I was at school.
Ten years ago, it was all over the news, how a fight between a husband, a wife, and a lover had gone out of hand, of how a husband was murdered by many bullet wounds to the chest and neck. Of how a mother let her six year old son be raped by her lover and how she left her husband to die and her son to suffer.
You're probably wondering what had happened since then up to this point. I'm feeling a bit generous so I'll tell you.
After the murder of my Father, I was sent to live with my father's younger brother, Clive Esteed, and his 5 year old daughter, Sophia. We lived peacefully for about two years, I was almost normal, well, as normal as a boy who was raped and watched his father could be. I've never let anyone see my back though, even when we went swimming, I wore a large tee shirt and I took a bath only when I was sure no one was around and I locked the door. I still do. Everything was okay until Parent/Teacher Night.
Apperently, a classmate of mine (stupid bitch) decided that she would bring her daddy along. Her Father was one of the policemen who worked ont the investigative team that was on my Father's murder. You'd think that the damn police would keep that info priviate, and leave a nine year old to grow up even half way normally. But noooo. That bastard had to go and bring up the case when he saw me there.
That's when it happened. I had a mental break down right in the middle of the class room and I attacked the man's daughter. I don't quite remember it, but I was told that I nearly choked the poor bitch, er, girl, and I was screaming "WHY DID YOU BRING HIM! I NEVER WANTED TO REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT! I HATE YOU AND YOUR STUIPD FATHER!"
It was soon after that incident that Luther and my mother was spotted somewhere about 20 miles from where I was living. I knew something was going to happen, I just did.
And I was right.
Three days after they were spotted, while I was coming home from school , there was a huge exsplosion in my house. It was completly destroyed, while other houses around it was somewhat demolished. Thankfully, no one was in the neighborhood at the time, except for pets, alot of families were grief stricken by that.
My family went to stay at a hotel, under a fake name, the cops told us to. Sophia and I went back to school, and Uncle Clive went back to work, and also searched for a new house.
One day, I went to scool alone, Sophia was sick and Uncle Clive stayed at the hotel with her.
As I opened the door to our room, blood dripped down form the ceiling. I looked up and screamed.
There, hanging from three-inch-thick ropes connected to the ceiling with large hooks were Sophia's and Uncle Clives corpses, swinging slowly back and forth, their blood flowing freely down the back of their heads where there were bullet holes. But that didn't nearly frighten me as much as what else was there.
Written in dripping blood on the peach colored was "My Angel Of Destruction, I had come to see you, but you were not here. This girl and her Father have prevented your wings from spreading, keeping you attatched to this world. So their fate had been signed and it was time for them to be destroyed. Death and pain are ensured to those who delay your flight. I will return, My Angel."
I was terrified back then, afraid of doing anything alone anymore. I was under heavy police watch until I was thirteen. At that time, I was sent to America, I was living in Japan when these events took place, to live in a place where no one had heard of the Leingod Murders, or as the police like to call it "The Persuit of Destruction". I was living in with a foster parent who was in the NYPD, so everyone thought I would be pretty safe there. Her name was Blair Lansfeld. I thought her name sounded familiar, but I just shook it off as me being paranoid.
Then one day, I was playing in the back yard of Blair's house with some friends I made at school, Ameena and Dion. Blair told me to come in because I had a phone call. I was stupid enough to go answer, probably thinking that all would be fine because I was with a police person. I told my friends bye and they went home, across the street.
On the phone was my grand mother, Samantha Leingod. She's sorta like a photographer, even though she's 73, and travels all over the world. That is the only reason hat I'm not with her, she's often seen in nature magizines and that would make it eazier for Luther to find me.
Let's get back on track. She called to say that she was sending me 300 dollars as an apology for not beineg here for my b-day and Christmas. She continued talking for about an half an hour, talking about how beautiful Italy was in the spring. Suddenly there was a scream from the yard. I dropped the phone and ran to see what had happened.
I stopped dead in my tracks. Luther. He was there, hovering over Blair with a gun in his hand. I saw my mother too, lying face up and Blair's rose garden. Her body among the thorny stems, cushioned by the velvety, soft petals. Her crimson blood shimmered in the twilight's glow off the white roses, like morning dew.
You're probably wondering why I am telling you every sigle damn detail. Well in events like these, you remember EVERYTHING, so why not tell it all, dammit!
Luther asked Blair, all to eerily calm, "Where's my angel, my dear sister? My Angel whose hands are stained with blood? Where is he?"
"What the hell are you talking about, Luther! He's only thirteen! He's never killed anyone!" Blair screamed. Luther grabbed her by the throat and replyed, "You are wrong, sister, he is guilty in every way. He's the one who drove me into this cycle of death. He's the reason for each and every one of the murders I have committed. Fayt belongs to me, he's my little angel of destruction, he's been mine since that night seven years ago."
"Fayt isn't some toy that can be claimed! He's a human being and doesn't belong to anyo-" She was cut off by the sound of the gun going off. She didn't even have time to scream. Luther had put the the gun in her mouth and fired it. Not quite dead, but still quickly slipping, she could hear every word that Luther spoke next.
"On the contrary, my sister, he's mine, mine to hurt, mine to love, mine to keep, and mine to break. The only obsticle left is the damn police, but they shouldn't be too much of an adversary. I've avoided them thus far." He kicked her over, giving her final breaths to the moist earth.
You're probably wondering "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU JUST STANDING AROUND FOR? GET THE DAMN POLICE, YOU DUMBASS!" Well you know what? Fuck you. You try doing something. This is the man who murdered Dad, Sophia, and Uncle Clive. And he killed mom and Blair too, his own flesh and blood, dammit! He's the motherfucker who raped me when I was six, dragged a knife into my back and carved out words like i was a piece of wood! How about you be in my shoes! I was literaly pissing my pants!
Then he came over to me, I was paralized with fear, I couldn't move. He didn't touch me like he had befoe ( I thanked any god who would listen for that) He ran his fingers, through my hair.
"My angel, how've I missed you. I"ve come back for you. Your wings have grown, I see. You're almost ready to go with me, but not quite. You know, you're the reason why I kill. I am a jealous master, that I amm. I can'tStand anyone being close to you. Until you learn to resist them, they will continue to drop like flies. You can flee all you want, but I will always find you. After all, you belong to me."
And that's when I fainted. Hey, I was scared.
The next few years, to where I am now, I have become a loner. Some would say I'm a goth, or something, someone against the world, but I'm not, I just don't want anyone I care for to die. So I just don't care anymore.
Are you confused? Do you even know why I'm "pouring" my life story to you? Well my therapist told me that I hould keep a journal, so she can see I how feel... but I'm afraid no one will understand.
They say loving someone will "heal the bleeding wounds of my past", but how can I love If they will get murdered? They're all dumb asses, but they're making money, not me, so whatever. The only thing that's good about having a journal is the fact that you can write pretty much anything without getting into trouble. That's all for now, the bus has finally arrived...
OOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOXXoooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxx
Well, it's not the fayt we all know and love, but that's how the story goes. R & R!
Taco
