Bra-Two here to greet and thank those who reviewed again! (glomps) we love you all so much and we hope you enjoy this story we are really lazy to update (which is strange cause we're like writing chapter 8) If any of my reviewers are reading then I'm gonna update Gh5sts soon (cheer for me) I actually decided to get my lazy butt in gear.

Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for your reviews!


Mechanical Bruising

Chapter 3

Legend says when the moon is full an angel arises from the earth and wanders the streets; calling out longingly for the love of its dreams.

She walks with robes of white and long blue hair with a butterfly clip in the side. Her voice is mournful and she calls out "Where are you my love?" over and over again. People back then used to paint red crosses on their door because if she entered your house she was said to bring the deadly plague with her. They said she wanted everyone dead except for her true love so she had made a deal with Satan and he had infected her with the Black Plague to kill everyone but that man, in return Satan would get all the victims souls.

Kai's mother used to tell him to mark a red cross on his door or her 'perfect baby' would be stolen from her. She told him that the angel was afraid of crosses because they cut her heart into shreds. God found out how many people she had been killing and to punish her he took her love from earth and he gave his soul to Satan and she had to watch for eternity from a glass prison as her love was torture until he died, and when he died she died also.

And so Kai's mother said she still wandered as a ghost, acting out her revenge on anyone who looked like her love.

It was because of this legend that his mother had told him, that when Kai found the abandoned apartment he took the penknife Voltaire had given him and carved a huge cross in the rotting door. Just encase the angel appeared again

He missed his mother badly now that he was on his own. But somehow it was better to be out here in the world than back at the Abbey. At least now he had the freedom to move and do as he pleased, not having to obey commands anymore. He sincerely hoped that they wouldn't send anyone looking for him to bring him back, that they would assume he was gone forever.

A little smile came to his face. Forever...That word seemed to warm his frozen body just a little, along with the thought of his mother. He leaned back, resting his head against the wall, eyes closed.

He was certain that his mother was proud of him now, proud of him for escaping Boris. He liked to think that she was an angel up in Heaven that watched over him. She had told him that good people went to heaven, and his mother had definitely been good.

The presence of a familiar shape in his hand felt soothing. As he opened his hand and looked down at his beyblade there was a strange glow to the chip.

«Thanks for looking after me Dranzer...We'll be just fine, you wait and see», he whispered.

A pained frown slipped across his face as he lay down, his back against the wall. His body still hurt from his attempt of suicide and the thing that the boy, the one Voltaire had brought along, had done to him. But he assumed that it would pass, all pain would in the end.

The Apartment he'd found was located in the less desirable area of Moscow. Gangs and pot heads lay in the alleyways as if their job was to keep drafts away, the ever constant smoke signals rising made passers by return home on a high.

It had no doors or windows; they had been bored up years ago and the cold Moscow weather had rotted a small hole in the door and had made the window saggy. The hole made was just big enough for his tiny body to squeeze through.

There was dust everywhere, adding age to everything he saw, the actually building didn't have an upstairs; it had been knocked down as if a bomb had hit it but this apartment had survived, and all the rubble had landed onto it's roof, making it a structural danger, though if Kai were to be crushed by a building he supposed it was better than being murderer in anyway by his grandfather.

The owner of the apartment must have left in a hurry because a ripped couch still sat in the middle of what appeared to be the living room, and an empty cabinet stood proud to his right side; a single picture frame was all that was left.

The walls were spray painted in thick black lines over the dirty peach walls.

It looked as if a few druggies had used this as their drug house but from the dust it looked like they hadn't been back in a long time, though they had left their mark and Kai found himself wondering if "Ziggy" was a birth name or a nickname.


He woke and he stared straight at the wall. He kept staring for a little while, not noticing that he was staring at all. The hunger in his stomach didn't seem to be willing to leave him alone.

He rubbed his eyes to get the sleepiness out of his head and sat up. Everything was dark, and he could barely see his own hands in front of his face. He wished for this darkness not to be so thick and compact, making him helpless. He wanted it to be daylight, at least then he could find his way around.

Fumbling around in his pocket he found what he was seeking, his fingers closing around that familiar shape that he held so dear.

"Dranzer...can you keep me company?" he asked quietly, a hint of fear in his voice as he spoke. He hated being alone...It made him feel awkward.

A dim light flowed from the bit-chip, the contour of a phoenix materializing in front of him in all her glory.

The fire bird lit up the dark room, the flames on her body giving the room a golden glow, casting shades. His face broke into a childish smile as she lay down by his side, letting him curl up close to her. He buried his face in her soft feathers, feeling at ease immediately.

"Thanks Dranz...What would I do without you?"

The phoenix responded by covering him with her one wing, just like a mother bird would do to her children. There was a loving and soft look in her eyes as she watched the young boy fall asleep, his eyes clamping shut.

Sleep tight, little Kai. One day you won't have to ask for my protection anymore. One day you will be able to protect yourself and the ones you love.


Biovault Abbey, Russia, 2400hours

Tala's eyes scanned the room he was in; the white ceiling looked down upon him.

He noticed his naked body had been covered in a white hospital gown and his throat and wrists had tight bandages on them, making it hard to breath and move. His skin felt like it had all been pulled back over open cuts and then stapled there; he could really feel the silver staples as he brushed small fingers over the back of his legs.

He was dry and he noticed there was no green liquid in this room; it was completed dry and it felt weird against his skin; nausea settled into his stomach and although he felt like throwing up, he had nothing inside the skin of his stomach to throw up.

He took his hands up to the tight bandage on his throat and tried to pull it away from his throat more; it was hurting the scar underneath and he felt as if he couldn't breathe.

But he found he could breathe better than he ever had in that cylinder; he felt as if everything had fallen down upon him and crushed his lungs while he'd been in there.

But…looking around this room now, the walls seemed awfully close together, like all they could fit was the one bed and even that was a tight squeeze. He could push both his hands on either wall and the one door was right at the bottom of his bed; wire mesh over the window so he couldn't see out and one orange fuzzy light was above his head; he was sure he could probably touch that as well.

His chest started to heave again and he felt all the bandages on his body restrict, this making his head hurt; the walls closing in around him even more; squeezing the bed into a tiny shape before coming in to crush him; he crawled clumsily upon damaged and new legs; still not able to put all his weight on his feet; towards the end of the bed towards the door where he started to scream loudly and slam his fists against the white door, reopening the cuts on his fingertips and making the bandages stain red.

He couldn't speak. He was developed enough to speak, he may have had the body and memories of a 12 year old child but it would take a few days for his baby like stamina to catch up with these things.

He wailed loudly along with his screams and suddenly he stopped; looking up at the door as he heard a few locks turn with childish tears in his eyes, he wiped them away and when the door opened he sucked in a deep breath and the walls moved back to their original positions.

He got washed in light from the door and he looked up at the person who stood there; lifting up his hands and giggling.

The person looked down on him just like the ceiling had done and almost looked away in disgust.

"Olivia," the man called in a thick Russian accent, "Get me every file my brother, Doctor Balcov, ever made on the study of Human Creation"

Tala whimpered and held up his arms again, being ignored by this man.

The man sneered at him and turned around, his back to Tala.

"Get this thing out of my sight and do not return him until he is of proper mentality"

Olivia bowed, red hair falling around her face, "Yes, Mr. Balcov" she hooked her arms under Tala's armpit and lifted the surprisingly light 12 year old body into her arms, watching as Boris walked away clearing disgusted at this creation.

She smiled down onto Tala and wiped away his tears, slamming his room door shut with one hip and letting a few abbey guards with her lock it, she kissed Tala's forehead and walked off along the hallway of the abbey; cold seeping into her footsteps like ice.


Why did everything in this place seem so cold? Every time his feet touched the floor he would feel freezing cold, a cold that seemed to make its way into his very soul, refusing to give in.

He could see white flakes fall outside the window, the white flakes they called snow gathering on the ground. He turned his head away, wishing to be in another place.

"How do you feel today, Tala? Are you cold again?" asked a warm, familiar voice. Looking up he looked straight into the kind face of Olivia, the smile soothing to him.

He opened his mouth to reply, but no word would come from his sore throat as he tried. There seemed to be a barrier stopping him from speaking, something invisible that he couldn't see, nor touch and therefore not break.

So he settled with giving a little nod. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, the soft fabric feeling good against his pale skin. He was pulled into an embrace, arms holding him tightly while hands stroke his hair in a comforting manner.

He liked Olivia. She seemed to care for him, treating him friendly. He was still wearing his white gown, his arms and wrists still wrapped up in bandages that he wanted to badly to rip off. He couldn't do it though; there was no strength in his limbs when he tried.

Tala still couldn't walk or speak, but he was getting better by every day that passed by. His body was slowly healing, his wounds being reduced to nothing but scars on his skin.

Closing his eyes he wanted to drown in that embrace, it felt so warm and caring, nothing like the time he had spent in that green liquid that made him shiver by the mere thought of it.

Memories and images flashed in his head, seeming so real but yet so unreachable. He could remember so many things...but still he didn't know where they came from.

Who was he?

That was haunting question…one that he knew no one could answer for him. He couldn't even ask it, but he would try once he could speak at least childish words and once the thick bandage around his neck was removed.

Though somewhere he knew that if became smarter, like that mean man had wanted him to be like, then they would shove him back into that tiny room and he didn't ever want to go back to that place.

He squeaked out a noise from his voice box and let the sleeves of the stiff hospital gown fall over his fingers as he wrapped his arms around Olivia's neck.

She chuckled and lifted him onto her hip, taking him away from the window and over to the small bed she let him sleep in every night. She worked almost as a right-hand woman for Boris Balcov, the runner of this abbey; she was by his side taking care of any business that was too below Balcov for him to take care of himself.

Maybe she might see herself as a bin man; wherever Boris made a mess she would clean up, like a maid. When he killed she ordered others to clean the body away, then she made stories so no police were on their trail.

She had been a cold person in the abbey, tying her hair into thick buns upon her head and tight uniform of the army in magenta, making her seem like a strict teacher none of the abbey children wanted to disobey. But since Tala had come she supposed he softened her. It was like taking care of her own child again……

Tala needed her to do thing for him; he may have looked 12 but he could do nothing the other 12 year olds could do. She had tried to take him on a walk through the abbey; maybe if other children saw him with her then they would recognise him with her and he would hold an air of power over them, they wouldn't pick on his because he was slightly different from them.

2 young boys made friends with Tala; though she knew they knew about Tala's difference, for one Tala couldn't speak to them, only nods and make certain noises, and he held onto her waist to keep balance off his weak feet, and he'd been standing on the sides of his feet as well.

Though she thanked them they didn't mention either of these defects to Tala, as the poor boy knew nothing of them and she supposed soon he might be back in his own room away from her, he could walk towards her slightly if he balanced on the side of his feet, making them crooked, which she told him off about; Balcov couldn't have any more things he saw as defects in his perfect creation; and he waved and muttered small childish hello's to people if he saw any of them; though he was cooped up inside most of the time.

Tala lay softly on the bed; Olivia noticed on the first night that he always slept on his front, which was terribly embarrassing on the first night because the hospital gown was loose that night (she found Tala had been pulling at it later) and she'd quickly covered Tala to rest while blushing furiously.

The second night, after making sure Tala didn't pull the gown loose like last time, she noticed the back of his legs and arms; they looked liked two pieces of plastic around muscles and organs which had been stapled together with very visible, and very large, staples. They went straight up in a line so neat it was like a machine had done it and they were over his arms as well; as if someone had opened his legs from the backside down and had opened his arms from the shoulder down, though luckily the ones on his arms were very faint and had healed extremely quickly, and the ones on his legs she was sure he could hide.

On the third day she'd noticed something so strange about Tala that she was sure it had been imagination or a trick of the lights in the abbey. She could have sworn she saw Tala blink from the sides in without using his eyelids.

On the very first meeting of Tala and her she'd just thought Boris had accepted a mentally disabled child into their mist, for reasons she would never know- Boris was prone to become obsessed with perfection, no matter how ridiculous this thought was. The she realised Tala had been created inside one of the test cylinders. Though since it was a test she suspected Tala had maybe come out slightly disabled within the mind, though he was the first creation to survive; and he must have been important if Boris hadn't killed the, hardly perfect, child.

Tala curled into a ball, suddenly a flash back of a memory inside that cylinder, in that green liquid, came back at him, when he'd gone into the same position to escape the ripping wires.

He jolted in his position and his feet shot back out to the bottom of the bed, his chest heaving and his eyes scanning the room in fright, spreading out his arms as if to clarify he could breath, and nothing was closing in around him.

Olivia looked curiously at him; another odd thing about Tala; he seemed very scared of tight spaces, she had wondered why he'd been screaming and crying when she'd first seen him. He was claustrophobic. Yet another defect within Boris' creation that another child would be killed for. Nothing but perfection was accepted and many children died with in the week- but many more were brought in as well.

Tala lay still and she kissed his cheek; sorting out the hospital uniform she'd been forbidden from removing; she pulled the pure white sheet over him and tucked him in; like she'd pictured herself doing with her own son.

She left him alone in the room as she did most of the time; she was busy woman; and shut the door, taking on last look upon the angelic, sleeping figure all wrapped in white.

She decided if Tala would ever get new clothes, she would make sure they were white; to portray the innocence she saw every time she saw him sleep.

An angelic sleeping figure, all wrapped up in white.


Even though you probably like Tay more than me I'm here today so deal with it.
(lol) Joke if I must admit not a very good one.
So Tala's free from his tube and Kai's free from his grandfather, how long until they meet, let's just say it might be a while (sweatdrop)

Bra-Two & Kanilla