Uncontrollable
(Fanfic version of No Control!)
I apologize for any OOCness, for Dino. Any other Reborn Character I use in this. It all belongs to Akira Amano. Please review!
A/N:
You guys wanna feel sick?
MLP: Cupcakes.
Warning. The Italics in this section contains graphical violence and blood, and little shivers up the spine when I wrote it. Thanks to that MLP fanfic, I think I went psycho. Originally, I am psycho. So I can't do anything about it. If you like Higurashi and blood.. then enjoy, muppets! Kyaha!
Gee, wings being ripped out.. -shivers, touches shoulderblades-
Chpater 7: Unstoppable, Uncontrollable.
Misaru looked around hastily as her steps in this unknown world quickened. Rapid breaths left her lungs, huffing out her chest, out of her mouths from her parted lips. Surely, she was getting tired, tired of running in repeated patterns. Dammit, where was she?
'Too bright. Everything is too clear and white.'
True.
It seemed like running in an endless room, plain white, no doors, no furniture, no windows.. No escape. It wasn't even tainted, not a speck of dirt on it, and here she was, dirtying the place with her own being.
The Snow stopped to a halt in her tracks as she caught what seemed to be a card, slit her cheek with it's straight, sharp-blade edge. Like a blade.
(Author: -puts Lt. Caine's sunglasses on like a boss)
'What was-'
She flinched as many zipped past her, some slitting her clothing as she used her arms as a defence barrier to protect her face.
Taking a closer look, the cards were stained with her memories, suddenly rushing back as a whirlwind attack against her. Attack. It hurt as they continued to slice through her clothes agonisingly slowly, to her delicate skin, blood bursting through the deep cuts.
They continued to flash past her in a stream, array of attacks as her raven-coloured locks fluttered in the wind the turbulance was creating. Finally, she was sure that she could move her arms as she slowered them, letting them collapse to her sides as she looked up in awe, her scarlet orbs widened at the sight of her memories in a bustling hurricane before her. Ripped, teared and sliced sleeves slid down her arms as she raised her hands as if about to gently embrace something into her cupped hands. As she did, the spinning memories continued to fly round her, like a bird trapped in a cage of wind.
Trapped. Isolated. Caved in. Like a bird.
A memory card slipped into her hands as she brought it in to her chest, her being seeming to drift along with the hurricane as her feet were lifted off the ground, steadily, but roughly as she held the precious memory of hers in her hands.
This one was a negative memory. The memory of being pinned back to the wall forcefully, in a younger school of her childhood, forced to swallow several things until she coughed up blood. Rocks, creepy crawlies, plants... A glass shard. Touching her throat, she could still remember how it felt like to devour all those things, therefore knowing methods of torture after. The pain she had, she'd inflict it on others. Yet, that was another memory that she reached out for to watch.
Terrible things...
She walked round the curved shaped shed, painted in crumbling, worn out red paint. It really was an old shed. It seemed like it was going to reach at least half of the sky's limit. The sky's the limit? Give her a break. She'd reach way beyond the sky, somewhere higher...to meet her brother again. She cursed the day he'd left her, disappeared from the rest of the curséd world forever. Up to join their parents, in what one would call heaven.
"In here, Saito-san." Misaru stood at the large wooden doors of the shed. "S-Sorry, I'm a.. bit scared to enter by myself, so I asked you."
Saito was one of the bullies from her childhood, also enrolling in the same middle school. The leader. The boss. What she was to be soon, in the future. He was the one who forced those things in her mouth, but he turned away from rebellion, and changed when reaching middle school, becoming a more gentlemanly figure, leaving all that behind him. Either way, Misaru wasn't going to accept this, holding a strong grudge against all of them. All of the people who had worked against her for no reason. Now, was her chance. Even though the way he asked him to follow him to such an enclosure, sounded like he was asking him out, his blush darkened as he replied with an immediate yes. Keikakudoori.
His hand began to trail across the round, heavy duty-door handle, giving it a gentle push before the large barrage doors slowly creaked open. In delight, he turned to face his crush, about to give her a bright smile- before all he could see was darkness, his body becoming numbed with pain as he felt his open skin scrape across the floor, then the large doors slamming closed, locking itself locked.
The male woke up to a stiff body, his body parts not responding to his movements as a strap was tightly bound over his chest, his arms and wrists firm in place and spread open, he felt little splinters stab his back in little shots at a time... and he couldn't feel his legs.
Tep. Tep. Tep. Click.
He flinched, frantically struggling his way out of the bonds as his heart raced, his inner panic starting to increase.
Tep. Tep. Tep.
The lights flickered on, revealing where he was in this endless darkness. Before him, stood the now-strong Misaru, holding a blade, diligently in her hand, with a firm grip. Her eyes showed neverending, unforgiving glares as she lowered it. But wait. Why not give him a little time to calm down, before adrenaline comes back?
"You.." She slid the cold blade of the knife across his jawline, slowly, feeling his trembling through the blade. "..Are unforgiven.." she stared down at the male with dull eyes, a clear, blank expression on her face, staring down into his soul with those crimson eyes of hers. From Saito's point of view, he could see an ominous aura emitting from the female. IT scared him, sending shivers up his spine and right to the bone.
"Now.. Should I just reel your organs out slowly, or... do it in one go?" She asked, her lip touching the tip of the knife in thought. Then she had it. This was a shrine, not a torture chamber. Something like the shrine in Hinamizawa, with tools of offering. Torture tools of offering.
"Can't feel your legs, can you?" She let out a small laugh. "I can finally have my..."
"Don't! U-Ushiromiya-chan, I'll do anything!" He begged, pleaded, yelled. Such a pitiful position he was in, thought the Snow. Let's taint this pure white snow, even more, as they did in the past. She won't let him forget. Never. Don't forget.
"Damare. This will lessen your chance of living." she snarled, piercing the top of his chest with the sharp tip of the knife, slashing the delicacy of the skin apart, watching the male cry out in agony, pain and immense torture. Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he begged for mercy, like a dog thrashing around the best he could in the bounds that held him down onto the plank. He felt that forever burning feeling, crying like a little baby. Misaru, however, ignored his cries for mercy, safety, his life.
"You want a chance of living? You'll never get that from me. Not after what you did."
The male panted harshly as he felt the warm, scarlet, liquid spill from his split-open torso, his clothing parting to both sides as a demonic smirk graced her beautiful features. She slashed the two slaps of skin off his body as she stared at his wonderful, working system, smothered in that red paint. she threw the two slabs in the corner, getting them out the way.
"Maybe I can have my revenge now... After all you did.." She stared at the male, pulling her shirt up to reveal the deepest scar she shad on her body, on her navel. The male froze in realisation, his last few tears streaming down his cheeks as he let out a few soft whimpers of pain.
"Do you remember now, Saito-kun...? HOw nice I'd try to be to all of you... all repaying me by giving me such a scarred life.. such a terrible life to lead..." She dropped her shirt back again with haste. "It's my turn! I'll treat all of you, the same way!" She seemed to yell at the male, while tears flooded her eyes, soaking her face and cheeks with her tears. "I'll.. I'll kill you!"
The blade dashed down on the male's stomach as he let out an earth-shattering cry as his stomach juices squirted everywhere, mixed with blood as she tore that out his stomach, tossing it onto the metal-silver tray that was beside her, wheeled in with her Snow flames. He kept crying out in pain, yelling out and screaming his lungs out.
"Aya... Should we kill those lungs of yours too?" She stared down at his pained face, screwing itself up to try and stop. "It hurts.. doesn't it?" She then spoke softly as she caressed his damp cheek, then pulling away quickly. "This is all the pain.. all the hatred inside me!"
Her knife then dug deep, deep into his bladder as she then made a quick action, dragging it up to his diaphragm. This action made the poor male pant, before giving up and slowly black out. Misaru didn't like this. Or rather, her demon didn't like this. Hastily, she grabbed an adrenaline shot from the table, stabbing it into his arm before forcing all the liquid into the male, making him awake with a cry, showing his suffering.
"You know, you know, no one can hear you scream inside this offering shrine!" She then used a sharp, metal hoe to drag his organs from up to his diaphragm, missing out his intestines, scraping the back of his back with the jagged edge of the hoe. His eyes widened and his jaw separated from his upper lip, no noise escaping his lips.
"Oh.." She harvested his organs, slopping them into their respective trays. It was a wonder how this male was still alive. "..Don't go yet, Saito-kun.. Don't go.." She seemed to whisper comfortingly, before ripping his kidneys and excessive muscle out with a long tearing noise. "I haven't even harvested your heart..."
"P-Please stop..." He panted, crying and sobbing softly. "I-It hurts..."
"I also said these words while you shoved dirt and filth into my mouth." She shoved his own slab into his mouth. "EAT IT!"
He choked, forcing himself to swallow his own flesh with great difficulty. The blood rolled down the sides of his mouth. It came out again, underneath. She shook her head and took it out, pulling a rusty hook down on a chain from above. Yanking a little gap in between his intestines, she jerked it out, and tugging it onto the hook, watching the male cry out, feeling his entrails make him jerk up and scream in agony as she began slowly walking to the chain and strained it, lifting the hook and painfully reeling the other's intestines up from his body with a disgusting squelch and blood spurting everywhere, onto the female's uniform and face. That was it. He either passed out, fainted, or died, in Misaru's eyes. Getting an alighted torch, she placed them at the other's eyes, slowly melting and burning them away.
"Huh.." Dead. Unfortunately.
The room seeped the stench of blood, dripping off the table and making a rather large pool of the scarlet liquid, passing the informant's feet. Undoing the restraints, she tied a strong knot with the male's intestines, to the hook, as she then used the chain to hang him from his intestines. The unbearable pain of your insides being yanked wasn't felt by the male, as his back snapped, in dislocation, the female deciding not to give him peace by ripping off all his nails, and letting him hang there, using a naginata that was in the corner of the room to slice his head off, the head rolling to her feet. That was it.
Relief filled the girl as she fell back, splashing onto the blood that soaked her clothes, the weapon of torture dropping with a clink beside her as she stared at her work.
"Bella." she whispered. She felt completely relieved. Soon frowning, she realised.
"Sins such as mine... are not worthy of forgiveness."
'Unforgiven. I'm... unforgiven...'
The memories seemed to pixellate into a monarch butterfly, her crimson gazes following as the memory drifted off into what seemed like forever, neverending memory lanes.
"This, is why, Ushiromiya Misaru." a familiar voice struck the informant's ears. Echoes continued to ring as she whipped her head round in every direction possible. Those godforbbiden memories continued to subside around her.
Throb. Throb. Throb.
The slicing and sudden movements of the memories inflicted many wounds on her, scarlet liquid slowly sliding down her skin as she moved. But, she couldn't move, trapped within the cage of memories, hovering in the middle with nowhere to search.
"This is why a person like you needs me. Kufu."
Through slight gaps in the whirlwind of neverending memories, she saw a holographic figure as it fizzed a bit, but she could make out that familiar, mocking tone of voice.
Rokudo Mukuro. 六度 骸 That 16 year old Mafia criminal.
The flickering hologram stopped, becoming a sold figure as the mini TV cards shot off like bullets.. But in a butterfly shape. It confused the Informant greatly, as the blurring cleared to reveal the 3D-eyed illusionist.
Bang.
She shook her head like a wet dog in the rain, as she felt the rough landing, her glances up at the mocking look this indigo-haired illusion had. Of course. Vongola's Mist guardian, yet she was bedazzled as to why he was here, confronting her in this unknown place of no escape.
"Oya, oya... " he chuckled darkly, mysteriously as his form knelt like a slick knight beside hers. Personality unknown, and features as sly as a fox.
He gently squeezed the line of the wound on her cheek, suppressing blood, forced out of her skin. As it dripped onto his finger, onto the clean white floor, ridding of it's innocence with a single drop of red. Misaru flinched, a shock of pain surgin through her body.
"Your feeble being is dying out, rabbit." he mocked, again with that harsh, yet velvet smooth tone of his. It was hard enough trying to avoid his voice as it could draw you into such illusions, enough to let your body be succumbed into his trickery.
"D-Damare!" she backhanded his hand away from her cheek harshly. The illusionist just chuckled as he stared her down.
"Now's not the time to be acting like this. Even I am able to speak to you from the depths of hell." he stood, looking at her messed up being from above like a God, looking down at the world. Those scarlet eyes just followed him up, catching his gaze.
"You're trapped. Unable to escape your past."
"Damare... Damare, DAMARE!" she shook her head, not wanting to hear any more of it. He was right. She was trapped in her own memories, hence the whirlwind cage of memories. Her head bowed as she glanced at her knees.
"Yet, it's true."
The end of his trident gently tilted the Snow's head up, making sure that they stared at each other long enough to talk.
"Being trapped in your memories, unable to move forwards." he repeated.
"Misaru." Another familiar voice rung to the informant's ears as she quickly spun round to find that Bucking Horse there.
"D-Dino!" pivotting and sliding to her knees to embrace him, the charismatic figure slowly disentigrated, pixellated away into the neverending coridoor. There was a lump in her throat as she watched it go, her eyes watering. Truly, this evil illusionist found her weakness. That Cavallone Boss.
"Kufufu... I'll leave you for now... Come back soon..." he laughed softly as his being dissolved into that indigo mist.
"N-No, wait! Mukuro!"
Yet it was too late. That was it.
[Damare - Shut Up/Be Quiet as an order]
"Yakyuu-baka, stop making so much noise!"
"Maa, maa, it's okay~ She's still asleep~"
The Snows eyes slowly adjusted to the light that shone through the window, seeing two figures standing on her bedside. Blinking rapidly, her eyes managed to make out who the two figures were.
Gokudera Hayato, and Yamamoto Takeshi.
Oh, so that place she was in was just a dream...
"G-Ghn." she groaned softly, slowly sitting up in her bed.
The two flinched, seeing as she was awake. Well, they spoke too soon!~
"Ushiromiya..." Gokudera placed the bag he was holding down, next to the bed. Her head turned to see the other male, placing flowers in the empty vase.
"Gokudera said he found you somewhere and came to see how you were~" Yamamoto laughed. Misaru looked round the room once, twice, three times.
No Dino.
She then thought Mukuro had done something to him, then shook the thought out. No, no, that couldn't be possible. She gave the two a reassuring smile.
Of course... The two knew that the Bronco was in a trance, talking to Vongola Primo. They shouldn't stress her out in this state, no? Even so, Misaru was determined to keep those unbearable thoughts out her brain. She sat there in thought, processing her illusion of a dream that seemed so realistic.
No. It was an illusion.
Gokudera tapped Yamamoto on the shoulder. Those honey eyes turned to face the smaller male.
"Hm?"
"Those two..." The bomber glanced at the deep-thinking informant. "Are uncontrollable."
A/N:
Keikakudoori - Yes, Death Note reference. 'Just as Planned.'