Tainted But Beautiful
Part 1: The Hunters
10. Freedom
Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem
Rated: M
Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, CHARACTER DEATH, OVERALL WEIRDNESS.
Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...
Notes: A MASSIVE chapter. Seriously, this chapter is humongous, clocking at near 10,000 words...I believe the longest chapter I've ever written. That being said, I'll keep the notes short, and let you just read on. Note that this does mark the end of the first part of the story. Yay, we're one third the way through!
Roxas just didn't know what to do.
He was sure he'd never felt so confused before in his life. Back when he'd been a street rat, running ragged through the slums with Hayner, Pence, and Olette, he simply had never had the luxury of being able to feel confused--any, any sign of uncertainty there meant death. And later, with Axel...true, Roxas was a bit confused by Axel's behavior at times, and confused about the exact nature of Axel and Demyx's relationship (it felt wrong just thinking about it that way, but Roxas wasn't sure if it was because they were both men or if it was...something else). But usually, he could be certain that Axel was a (relatively) good guy who just wanted to do what was best for Roxas, and was confident and almost always in control of himself.
But now...now that Demyx was gone...
Axel just wasn't acting like himself. He spent most of his days holed up in his top-floor study, fielding calls left and right to slayer HQ, to Xigbar, to Luxord, and even--much to Roxas's surprise--swallowing his dislike of Marluxia and enlisting the pink-haired slayer's help. Roxas supposed, on some level, that this behavior would be normal--after all, what else was a person who'd seen his friend (...?) abducted supposed to do? It was natural...
What bothered Roxas more was what Axel did in the dungeons. Even though Axel tried to go down to the dungeons when Roxas was supposed to be sleeping, Roxas heard, anyway. He heard the thumps, the shouts, the cries of pain--heard Axel grow increasingly enraged as the night wore on, heard him scream curses and oaths that made the hairs on the back of Roxas's neck stand up...
He'd never before witnessed such anger from Axel. It terrified him, made him feel sick all the way down to the stomach, made him--uncertain. A part of him wanted to bring it up to Axel, but yet on an unconscious level he knew Axel would just blow him off or...or even yell at him. Axel had never before shouted at Roxas (except that night, the night that Demyx went missing...), but Roxas could just picture it. "Don't tell me how to discipline my pet! Just whose side are you on, anyway?"
It disquieted him, deep down. It disquieted him how easy it was to picture Axel scowling and snarling those words to Roxas in a rougher tone than any he'd ever before taken with the boy. And it always disquieted him, because...
Because Roxas didn't like to think that he was sympathizing with a vampire. A vampire. An evil, undead, bloodsucking creature of the night, whose only thought was to hunt down and capture humans for prey. He was supposed to kill vampires, not feel sorry for them!
That didn't change the fact that Roxas did feel a stab--no, more than a stab--of sympathy towards Zexion. Even if he was a vampire, he didn't deserve...this. He didn't deserve to be beaten--and worse--every night, all for a sin he had not committed. It frustrated Roxas, at times, how...how blind Axel could be. Couldn't Axel see that Zexion was telling the truth? That he had as much idea of where Demyx was as Axel did?
"He's a manipulator!" raged Axel's fury-torn voice in Roxas's mind. "He's just screwing with your mind! He can make you think whatever he wants, but he's lying!"
Well...maybe. Maybe, but...
But deep inside Roxas, deeper than the shallow touch of intellect, deep in the core of his being and the heart of his judgment--was the feeling that there was more to it than that. The feeling that Zexion was not lying about Demyx, that he was not trying to manipulate Axel. It might have been intuition, or something else, but one way or the other Roxas knew that the vampire had nothing to do with Demyx's disappearance.
How, though...was he going to get Axel to see that?
Four days. Roxas had counted every single agonizing minute of those long and dark days...had listened to and memorized every sound, every cry of rage, every snarled curse, every whimpered plea for mercy, during the nights....
And finally he decided that he couldn't take it anymore. Not with a clean conscience, anyway. So on the fourth day, the fourth evening, Roxas left the safe confines of his room and headed to a part of the house he'd only visited once before--and he'd left that time telling himself he wouldn't ever come back. Well, he'd have to break his word to himself, because he had to see...
Axel had given Roxas a copy of every necessary key in the house, so Roxas was able to unlock the door to the basement, and push it open as gently as he could. He couldn't stop it from creaking out loud with a mournful sound, though--and the instant the sound broke through the silence, Roxas leapt back, startled, his heart hammering a staccato. Had Zexion heard...?
But Roxas didn't know why he was trying to be furtive in the first place. If Zexion was going to know that Roxas was coming, it didn't matter if Roxas announced his presence now or later, did it? So, sucking in a deep breath, Roxas crossed the threshold, shut the door behind him, and started down the stairs.
It was dark in the basement, and at first Roxas stumbled a bit, almost tripping over a stair. But he managed to throw his arm out to catch himself on the wall, and made his way to the bottom without further incident. By then, his eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, and he could make out the shape of four cells in the gloom--the far right one occupied by a thin figure hunched with his head lowered and his arms around his knees.
"Er..." Roxas emitted a noise between a cough and a mangled attempt at a greeting. Now he was nervous--who knew how the vampire would react? This was a bad idea, he shouldn't have come in the first place, but...
"Hello." Zexion's voice was quiet, cold, toneless--Roxas shivered when the sound rose from the darkness and carressed his ears. He'd heard Zexion speak before enough times to count on one hand, and so he wasn't quite used to the vampire's voice yet. It was nothing like a human voice. So quiet, yet so penetrating...and so dark, too.
A tiny voice in the back of Roxas's head told him it wasn't too late to run if he wanted to. But the rest of him cried out against the cowardly whisper--what, after all, did he have to be afraid of? Zexion couldn't attack him. He was bound by silver chains, helpless...and besides, hadn't Roxas come just because he felt sorry for Zexion?
So, swallowing the last of his hesitation, Roxas took a step forward...and another...and another, until he was directly in front of Zexion's cell. The vampire didn't look up at Roxas, keeping his eyes trained on the floor and looking entirely disinterested in the boy.
"Er, hi..." said Roxas nervously. Now that he was here...he had no idea what he should say. He settled for just standing there and staring at Zexion, since he had nothing else to do. Roxas couldn't help the twinge of pity tugging at his heart when he saw Zexion--the vampire was in no way in the best of conditions. His clothes were torn, soiled with blood in varying stages of drying. Cuts and bruises stood out starkly against his pale skin, where the tears in his clothing exposed it. And his neck...Roxas almost didn't want to look, but his eyes moved up, anyway, taking in the myriad blue and red marks bruising Zexion's ice-white neck....
Quickly, Roxas tore his gaze away. He didn't want to look...why? Because he felt sorry for Zexion? Or was it something else, something deeper and more visceral...the thought that Axel had left behind those marks, that Axel had been...had been intimate with Zexion...?
Roxas banished these thoughts the instant they flitted into his mind. They were pointless, irrelevant, distracting...
"Why did you come here?" Zexion's voice, whispering through the darkness, snapped Roxas out of his distracting thoughts. He jumped, startled, and stared wide-eyed at Zexion before regaining his composure.
"Um...I...well..." said Roxas, stammering through several attempts to explain. "Er...I just wanted to...uh...see how you were doing, that's all. Yeah."
The words felt stupid when they came out; stupid, poorly-worded...trite. Like he was paying a visit to a friend he hadn't seen for a few days. Just wanted to see how you were doing! But Zexion wasn't his friend, and this wasn't a friendly visit. It was just...
Roxas suddenly realized he didn't know what it quite was. He'd just come on a whim, and now that had come back to bite him. Hard. Because he really had no reason at all to be here...
"Ah." Worse was Zexion's reaction--he didn't laugh, or scoff, or otherwise indicate any scorn. He simply tilted his head to the side, casting Roxas a look that might have been one of mere academic interest, nothing more. Zexion's complete lack of a reaction disconcerted Roxas even more--he just didn't know how to read the vampire...not to mention that Zexion's current position inadvertantly exposed more of his neck, more of the marks and bruises...
Though if Roxas had stopped to think about it, he would have realized that there was nothing "inadvertant" about the gesture at all.
But the last thing Roxas was doing now was thinking. He could only stand there, feeling more and more stupid with every second that passed, as Zexion continued to emotionlessly survey him. His legs were twitching, perhaps urging him to bolt and run while he still could before he made a total schmuck of himself...but inertia kept him firmly glued to the floor.
After a silence that seemed to extend into an eternity, Zexion finally spoke again. "So? Did you simply come here to stare at me?"
"What! Um--no, no," said Roxas, feeling his face burn bright red at--at that thought. Especially at the way Zexion had phrased it...as if, oh...that was just too terrible to think about. Too terrible. Even if Zexion was an incubus who lived by seducing men...
Was it just Roxas's imagination, or did the corner of Zexion's mouth twitch up in a hint of a smirk? When the vampire spoke, an amused note had entered his voice. "Are all blondes this easily flustered...?"
"Huh?" At first, Roxas had no idea what Zexion was talking about...but then remembered with a flash. Demyx. "Oh, uh...yeah...um, I actually, I kinda, I wanted to talk to you about Demyx."
He hadn't, of course; he'd just made it up. With a sharp flare of panic, Roxas suddenly wondered if Zexion could read minds, and knew the lie flashing loudly across Roxas's mind like a bright marquee--but that was pure nonsense. Maybe some vampires could read minds, but not lower-ranked ones like Zexion...
Zexion didn't seem to see Roxas's lie, or, more probably, he just let it slide. In a calm voice--incongruously calm--he said, "Yes? What about Demyx?"
"Er..." Roxas began to regret how his mouth had moved without any central planning. What about Demyx? He didn't know! "Well...um...slayer HQ's dispatched two separate search patrols after him...um...trying to follow any leads on Xaldin's location. They think wherever Xaldin is, Demyx should be too..."
"It won't be as easy as that, if Xaldin is involved..." said Zexion in a low murmur, seemingly to himself. But then, his voice acquiring an edge of sharpness, he turned to face Roxas and snapped, "So you don't think I had anything to do with it?"
"Huh? With what?" Roxas's mind seemed to be extra-slow today; he couldn't catch on to what Zexion was saying. Not at first. But then-- "Oh! Of course not. I don't think you did."
"Really? Pray tell me why, because your mentor seems to be entirely convinced that I helped Xaldin orchestrate his little...abduction." For the first time, Zexion's veneer of cavalier calm slipped--a spasm of pain had entered his voice at the final word, and he lowered his head as if to hide any emotional reaction from Roxas. Again, Roxas felt that twinge of pity in his heart...and again found himself thinking of Demyx and Zexion.
And once more he was thinking about Axel even when he had no reason to! What was wrong with him? Just because Demyx and Zexion were...
No! No! What the hell's gotten into me? I've got to get my mind out of the gutter!
Shaking his head to clear it, Roxas remembered Zexion's query, and answered. "No. I mean...um...I just don't...I don't think you had anything to do with it. I mean...if you did, I think you'd have already told Axel where Demyx was..."
Roxas trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Now feeling somewhat embarrassed (but he didn't know why), he lowered his head and became immersed in his shoes. But he truly did believe everyting he said. He'd seen enough of Zexion, heard enough of--of the nights--to know. To know that Zexion wasn't the kind of person who could withstand such stress--such torture. To know that Zexion was smart enough to see the futility in constantly lying to Axel...
That left only one conclusion--that Zexion was telling the truth.
"So you trust me."
Roxas took a step back, startled by Zexion's sudden, flatly-intoned words. Unwillingly, his gaze snapped up from the ground--to Zexion. Now, for the first time, the vampire seemed truly interested in Roxas, no longer regarding the boy as just an intriguing academic curiosity and nothing more. He was sitting up straight, his posture tense, looking for all the world a cat prepared to spring upon a mouse. All of the vague disinterest he'd been faking had disappeared, to be replaced by a sharp and wary intentness, and he never once removed his dark blue eyes from Roxas's face. Roxas took another uneasy step back, unnerved by the quality of Zexion's stare--as if the vampire was trying to burn holes into Roxas's body with his eyes, to strip the boy down to the barest essence of his very being...
At that thought, Roxas let out an uncomfortable, nervous little cough. "Um...I don't quite...know."
"Hmm?" Zexion tilted his head to examine Roxas more closely. Again, Roxas felt like a mouse under the predatory stare of a cat... "But you do trust me, on some level. Enough to believe me when I say I had nothing to do with--with Demyx's, ah, disappearance."
Zexion's control had slipped, ever-so-slightly, on the last words, the faintest--faintest--of tremors entering his voice. Roxas couldn't say why that made him feel...sad in a way. Not just because he was feeling sorry for Zexion, but...at the sudden, stark thought of what Axel would feel if Roxas ever disappeared--
Out of the gutter, dammit! Stop thinking about--stuff like that! Not now, of all times...
"Well...well, yeah. I mean, it just seems like, like..." Roxas trailed off, unable to complete his thought. He wasn't even sure what he'd been trying to say...but then, unbidden, words rose out of him, out of a deeper part of his soul that needed no filters, no censors, just the truth. "You've been...hurt. Hurt a lot...really bad. And by Axel, too. I mean--he's really not a bad person. He's not a bad guy. He isn't. I've never seen him--never seen him like that. I know it's not right. I know it isn't. And I'm sorry if you think--if you think I--I support what he's doing. I don't. I'm sorry I didn't do anything about it, I promise I will, I'll go talk to him, make him stop--he's reasonable, I know..."
He trailed off after his long, senseless torrent, feeling his face burn from shame. What the hell had he just said? It had all come out of him and he hadn't had time to process what he was saying...
Zexion, too, seemed equally startled by Roxas's ramble, his eyes widening and his eyebrows rising to meet his hairline. He seemed at a lost for words for a moment, his throat convulsing in a valiant effort to get words out, but when he finally spoke, his voice was calm--if one disregarded the shaking near-hysteria just beneath the surface.
"I believe I can condense that long, rambling mash of nonsensical sentences into three words--don't blame Axel. Am I correct? You're upset at what's happened to me, but you refuse to accept that Axel did it."
"No!" cried Roxas without thinking--though it wasn't like he'd been thinking before saying anything this evening. "That isn't true. He did do it!"
"Then what was all that about Axel 'not really being a bad person'? What was all that about him being 'reasonable'?" An unmistakable edge of anger had entered Zexion's voice, and now he was almost glaring at Roxas, his hands curled into tight fists, rage burning in his visible eye. "You're trying to deny that he could do it. Not to me, but to yourself. You won't accept it, because you admire Axel so fucking much. So you tell yourself that it wasn't truly him, that he was just taken over by a monster, that's all. You're trying to deny his very nature!"
Zexion tried to rise in anger at the last words, but the silver chains jerked him back, impeding his progress. Zexion let out a snarl of frustration but did not try to rise again, merely crouching low to the ground and still fixing Roxas with a ferocious, hate-filled glare. But not hate directed at Roxas--hate directed at someone else, someone upstairs in the study, frantically fielding calls back and forth--
"No...that's not...right..." stammered Roxas. He knew that Zexion's anger was justified, and that Axel probably wasn't as pleasant a person as Roxas thought, but...he couldn't let go of Axel. Not his Axel. Not the Axel he knew, the Axel who had saved him, who had spoken to him kindly and praised his skills...he didn't care if that Axel wasn't the real Axel. It was the Axel whom Roxas knew, and it was that Axel he would cling on to. Because...
Because he cared. He cared about Axel, as more than a teacher for a student, as a friend, or even--
Thankfully, before this dangerous train of thought could reach its station, Zexion interrupted, his voice harsh and cold. "How isn't it right, Roxas! Look--look! Look what he did to me, and ask yourself if a nice, reasonable person could do this!"
With that, Zexion lifted his arms, shaking his sleeves back to reveal--everything. Bruises, some splotchy and fading, others darker, standing in sharp relief against the ghost-pale skin. Cuts and scrapes in varying stages of healing. Dried blood clinging to the scrapes...ugly red burn marks...injuries everywhere Roxas swept his eyes.
And then he couldn't look anymore. He tore his gaze away, his head reeling, unwilling to accept, unwilling to believe--he'd known what Axel had done, but he hadn't known it was...like this. This bad. He didn't want to believe that Axel was capable of this, of harming a person to such extents...
And he wasn't willing to believe that Axel would do all this--over Demyx.
Again, Zexion's sharp voice snapped Roxas out of his dangerous thoughts. "Do you see now? Do you see? Do you see what he is capable of? Do you see how much of a monster your beloved mentor is?"
Beloved. The word pierced Roxas sharply, like an icy arrow to his heart. Without thinking, he started shaking his head, over and over, trying to deny--what? "No, no, no...he isn't...I mean...he was so kind..."
"A pure wolf in sheep's clothing," said Zexion sharply. "That's all he is. He did this to me. Do you want to see more? Do you want to look further? Because that was only the tip of the iceberg. I've got many more, in other places..." At those words, Zexion's hand moved down to the waistband of his pants, moving down to the zipper...
"Um, no, I don't need to see!" cried Roxas, stricken. "Look--I--ah--I'm sorry!"
"An apology from you means nothing!" snarled Zexion. "You didn't do it, so why the hell are you apologizing?"
"Because--because--" gasped Roxas; it was suddenly hard to breathe. Hard to think, hard to speak. "Because...I didn't stop him. I let it happen. Please, please don't think--I mean--please don't think that just because he did it, it means I'd do it too. It's wrong. I know it is. And I'm sorry about it. Sorry that he hurt you like this. Please..."
He didn't know what he was saying anymore. But since when was that a surprise? Roxas had lost all control of his conversation, long ago, and could now only let his emotions, tangled and confused as they were, do the speaking for him.
Zexion's response didn't help things--he simply buried his head in his hands and unleashed a harsh, flat, mirthless laugh. "Oh, you...I wonder why Axel always ends up taking in students of higher moral caliber than him?"
"Please! I'm serious! I'm sorry--I'm sorry!" cried Roxas, his voice cracking. He took a step closer, and then another, so that he was directly in front of the bars of Zexion's cell. Zexion stared up at Roxas, his eyes wide, almost--fearful. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. For everything Axel did, for not stopping him..."
"What are you--" said Zexion, his voice barely above a whisper, still staring wide-eyed at Roxas. "What--"
Roxas couldn't answer Zexion's query because he himself no longer knew what he was doing. He'd already reached into his pocket, pulled out the key ring Axel had entrusted him with long ago, found the long black key that fit into the cell's padlock, slid open the cell door (ignoring the loud screeching it made against the floor), and stepped inside. Now, he was facing Zexion, only two steps between them, his heart thudding a violent staccato in his chest and he didn't know why, but he had to make things right...
"Get out." Zexion's voice was cold, flat--but trembling with barely-suppressed emotion. His expression was wild, near-livid...but confused as well. He didn't understand...and neither did Roxas.
"I'm sorry," said Roxas again. He couldn't say anything else.
"Good. Well, you've apologized for being a collaborator," said Zexion in a miserable attempt to return his voice to its old careless disinterest. "Now why don't you drag him down here and make him apologize too?"
"I'm seriously sorry," said Roxas again, sinking down to a crouch in front of Zexion. A vague part of him--the tiny portion of his higher brain that was still working--was attempting to ring all sorts of alarm bells, telling him that he was only two feet away from a dangerous, bloodsucking monster...but said "dangerous, bloodsucking monster" was making no move to attack Roxas. He was only staring at Roxas, wide-eyed and stunned, his entire body trembling. A body that was bruised, lacerated, injured in every way, its pale beauty taken, drawn and quarted, tortured by the man Roxas admired more than anyone else in the world...
And Zexion was so...young-looking, too. He couldn't be more than a year or two older than Roxas...physically, at least. He was probably much older than he appeared, being an immortal vampire. But that didn't change the fact that he looked like a boy not that much older than Roxas. A thin, pale, and delicate boy as well, unused to fighting and physical labor. Roxas could just imagine Zexion as a character from the movies, as the rich, aristocratic son of a noble: sickly but refined, never doing anything more physical than playing the violin and piano or rifling through the pages of a good book. He could see Zexion, almost, in elegant, flowing clothes, sprawled languidly across a velvet-upholstered couch, absorbed in a sentimental romance novel and sighing in refined enjoyment. A young boy, a naive boy, with almost no knowledge about the real world...
Zexion belonged in that world. He didn't belong here, chained in this dark and squalid prison cell, his clothes torn and filthy and his body covered in bruises, cuts, and injuries, at the mercy of a temperamental vampire slayer...
Roxas had no idea where these observations were coming from, yet he felt they were all true. He knew, logically, that Zexion as a pureblood vampire had been born a vampire and lived as a vampire his entire life, but couldn't help but shake the feeling that Zexion had had a previous life too, in which he was not a vampire but an elegant--and ignorant--aristocrat. He didn't know why, but he could suddenly just--see--it. See it in the way Zexion surveyed Roxas, the vestiges of a past innocence hidden in his furious glower...see it in the way Zexion moved, his every gesture hiding a faint elegance that came from another world, from another time when life had been less hurried and more value had been placed in refinement.
Then, abruptly, Roxas was snapped out of his idle musings by a harsh voice saying, "What do you want?"
"Huh?" Roxas jumped back, startled by the incongruousness of Zexion's sharp tone, not after Roxas had been spending the past five minutes or so constructing for himself an image of the vampire as a leisured aristocrat. But what was the point of such random thoughts, they wouldn't help in this situation...
"I asked you what you wanted. You have no reason to hang around, seeing as you've already apologized. So what are you still doing?" Zexion cast Roxas a sidelong glare, looking irritated.
"I...don't know," said Roxas. He didn't say anything else. Why should he? How could he? He couldn't explain anything he was doing anymore...
But he didn't move. He remained where he was, crouching in front of Zexion, his gaze on the pale vampire before him because he didn't know what else to look at. Zexion kept stealing furtive glaces at Roxas at first, as if trying to figure out what Roxas was doing or what he wanted, but eventually seemed to just accept Roxas's presence, and turned away from the boy, a curtain of slate-colored hair hiding his face from Roxas's scrutiny. For the longest time, the two remained like this--student slayer and vampire, together in the dark cell, silent and each aware of, but doing nothing about, each other's presence.
And then, at length, Zexion broke the silence, turning to cast Roxas a brief, inscrutable, glance. "You...Roxas...?"
"Huh? Yeah?" said Roxas, startled not just at the suddenness of Zexion speaking after the long silence, but also by Zexion addressing him by name. The vampire had never before called him by his name...
"You...well. You're truly more--much more--than I give you credit for." Zexion paused, as if trying to collect his thoughts, turning to the side again so that Roxas couldn't see his face. "You are...you are a very moral person. A strong person, with strong convictions. I can see you going...very far in life." A bitter laugh, and then, "It's a shame you had to get tangled up with Axel..."
He then turned to face Roxas--and Roxas almost fell over in surprise. The vampire was, for the very first time Roxas had seen him--smiling. A smile that extended to his eyes, that seemed to light up his entire face and suddenly made him seem years younger, made him seem so much more like the elegant and ignorant boy Roxas had been picturing in his mind--a happier boy, a more innocent boy--
"I can almost believe that I like you, Roxas. We've got quite a bit in common, me and you. More than you might be willing to admit." Zexion's smile widened imperceptibly, but even that slight motion was dazzling in the way it transformed his face, made him glow with an even stronger aura of innocence-- "You're an honest person, Roxas, so I know I can trust you. What do you say about bringing up my cause with Axel? I'm sure he'd be willing to listen to you...so? Do we have an alliance?"
Roxas stared in numb surprise as the vampire extended in his arm in a slow, yet fluid and graceful, motion--holding his hand only inches in front of Roxas. The boy immediately knew what Zexion wanted, and the sane part of his mind protested against it--shaking hands with a vampire!--but the rest of him ignored those forceless protests. He found it all too easy to extend his own hand and take Zexion's in a firm grip.
"Yeah," he said, as they shook, Roxas vaguely aware of how cold Zexion's hand was underneath his own. "It's a deal."
"Thank you, Roxas," said Zexion, his voice low, filled with emotion. His head was lowered, so that Roxas couldn't see his face...but from the trembling of his thin shoulders, it was plain that he was...overwhelmed. Roxas was surprised; he'd never seen Zexion so plaintively displaying his emotions before. "You have no idea what this means to me..."
Roxas was only just conscious of how Zexion's voice fell into a quiet, yet excited--and insidious--murmur at the end, before Zexion's grip on his hand tightened like a vice and drew Roxas, in a single startling motion, straight toward him.
"Whoa! Hey!" cried Roxas, struggling to disentangle himself from Zexion--his face was buried in Zexion's chest and this was uncomfortable--it was so cold-- "Let go--"
And then, with a flash of terror, he realized that Zexion's mouth was only centimeters from his neck.
"As I said," whispered Zexion, his entire body transformed, poised like a wildcat again as he bent above the vein leaping beneath Roxas's skin, his voice aquiver with excitement, "you have no idea what this means to me."
Roxas's heart hammered so hard against his ribcage he was sure that Axel, even in his top-floor study high above the basement, could hear it. But he knew Axel couldn't, so he tried to fill his lungs, tried to capture a large enough breath to encompass a scream that would make Axel come, that would make him save Roxas from Roxas's own folly--
Too late, too late. Before Roxas could begin screaming, Zexion's fangs found their mark.
Roxas's first sensation was of draining. The draining of blood from his face, the draining of strength from his body. His body, previously so rigid from tension, relaxed, loosening like a rag doll. And then--then the pain hit. The sharp piercing pain from where the fangs had pierced the skin, breaking open the vein...a pain that soon spread from his quivering vein to the rest of his body, through all of his arteries and veins and capillaries--he could almost picture the pain being carried through his bloodstream, circling around and around and increasing with each pump of his heart--he wanted to scream but couldn't get the air for it but it hurt so much it hurt it hurt he had never hurt as badly as he was now the pain the mortal pain the agony threatening to rip him in two--
He was only vaguely aware of falling away from Zexion, of tumbling hard to the rough concrete floor. There he trembled, twisted, convulsed, as the agony took control of his limbs, chasing all rational thought from his mind--his only thought was to stay alive--he was quivering ,his blood was quivering, pulsing and pumping and with each pump changing him a little inside, sending more of that agony flooding through his veins and--
A sound Roxas had hoped he would never hear. A sound from his nightmares, a terrible sound, low yet high-pitched from excitement at the same time, dark and insidious and delighted, utterly delighted, a mad, raging delight that could tear the world apart if given the chance--Zexion laughing. Roxas had never before heard the vampire laugh and now he knew why, and he knew now that he never wanted to hear it again. It was a terrible sound that seemed to enhance the agony, the fire, quivering in his veins, a sound that pressed down and burned in his ears, so alive it was with sheer triumph...
"You idiot! You complete, gullible, mortal fool!" cried Zexion exuberantly between peals of laughter. "Oh, you fool! I can't believe you fell for that! Why would I ever want to enter an alliance with one of you...? You pitiful fools, you cowering, scrounging, scampering mindless little creatures...you hunks of meat...and yet you honestly believed me! You believed every word I said! Fool!"
"Ah--ungh--ohhh--" For the first time, Roxas managed to force words out of his burning throat--mostly out of a strong desire to force Zexion to stop laughing. As long as he didn't have to listen to that sound... "Wh...what...what did you...do...to me...?"
A low chuckle answered at first, and then, "That is simple. I bit you."
"I--know--that--" growled Roxas, shuddering against the floor. He suddenly realized both his hands were clamped to his neck, where Zexion had bitten... The pain was dying but he wasn't sure why that was, but who cared, it was dying--but did that mean--no, it had to come back, if the pain was gone it meant he would be gone too, he would be just a mindless servant--
"Don't worry," said Zexion. If the words were meant to reassure, they failed miserably--Zexion's voice was too breathless with excitement for him to properly assume a comforting tone. "I stopped halfway. You will not become a made vampire, at least not fully. As useful as mindless minions are...for now I need a servant with a little more cunning. You will be weaker than a full vampire, that is true, but you will at least keep your consciousness. And that will prove...very...useful to my cause."
"Damn--!" howled Roxas. How the hell--how had it come to this? He'd come to comfort Zexion--but now it became increasingly clear that Zexion had needed no comforting at all. That it had all been an act, a sham, to force Roxas to his mercy...and it had worked, as well. That was the most rankling part of it all. "Damn..."
"And there's another perk, as well," continued Zexion, his voice still savagely delighted. "As a made vampire--as my servant--you are required to obey every order I give. Allow me to demonstrate. Stand."
Roxas struggled, but it was futile--it was as if some puppet-master from high above was manipulating him, tugging on marrionette strings to make him rise to his feet even as he thrashed and struggled against the order. He rose, jerkily, unwillingly, but he rose, nonetheless.
"Excellent." Zexion flashed Roxas a smile filled with approval--a smile that revealed his fangs too clearly. Damn....how could Roxas had let down his guard like that? Zexion was a vampire, no matter how young and innocent he might have appeared...
"Now, my servant, free me." Zexion extended his arm, the silver chain clanking and jangling conspicuously, drawing Roxas's attention to the cuff enclosed around Zexion's wrist. "You have the key, don't you? Very good. That's a good servant. Take it out...oh, and be careful, the silver will harm you now as well--"
Roxas bit the inside of his cheek, trying to fight down a rising sense of nausea, of distate...of self-hatred. How could he have allowed this to happen? He should have been more vigilant...but he couldn't do anything now. Even as he fought against the marrionette strings, Zexion's orders forced him to reach into his pockets, pull out the key ring, find the small silver key that would unlock all of Zexion's chains...and forced him to, one-by-one, remove all of Zexion's binds.
The last silver cuff clattered away into the darkness, and Zexion now rose--fully, no longer impeded by the chains. He held his hands in front of him, staring for the longest time at his wrists apparently, now freed for the first time in weeks--maybe longer--from the silver cuffs. Dark, ugly red burns encircled Zexion's wrists, which the vampire regarded with a twitch of annoyance, but he tugged his sleeve cuffs--torn and frayed as they were--over the burns. Then, turning to face Roxas, a slight, insidious smile on his face:
"Come, my servant. Let us go. I believe that I have some...ah...unfinished business with your mentor, don't you agree? Now, follow me."
I'm sorry, Axel, thought Roxas, anger and misery welling up inside him. But he had no choice except to follow Zexion out of the cell, up the stairs...to the study. It was his master's command. He could not disobey.
Axel was poring over several sheets of paper when Zexion and Roxas entered. More like barged in--Zexion did his best to make the entrance as dramatic as possible. Perhaps it would have been easier if it wasn't dramatic, if it was just a furtive sneak attack...but he couldn't help it. Axel had kept him prisoner for almost two months, had raped him, had tortured him. It would lack a sense of justice if Zexion tried to dispatch Axel sneakily.
It had to be grand.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" said Axel, looking vaguely annoyed as he looked up from the papers. Then--swoosh--the papers had fallen to the ground like so many white birds, followed seconds later by the clunk of his reading glasses. "Oh--what the--the hell! Roxas!"
Zexion almost laughed at Axel's reaction--it was pure gold. Just pure comedy gold. The slayer was just standing there, frozen as still as a statue, surrounded by papers (and his glasses) at his feet, his eyes wide and almost bugging out of his face, his skin the color of milk. His hands were trembling faintly, but otherwise he wasn't moving an inch. Just frozen in his shock.
"Axel!" This was the boy, Roxas, and now Zexion's new servant, close behind Zexion. His eyes were as wide as Axel's, and his skin was just as pale--though not from shock, but from his half-transformation into a vampire. Roxas hadn't handled the transformation well. Beneath the new sickening pallor of his skin, his veins formed ghostly blue networks, and he couldn't stop shaking, his body unable to adjust to the rapid change that had come over it. Give him time...he would adjust.
For now...Zexion held his hand up, indicating for Roxas's silence. "Quiet. I'd appreciate being able to hold a conversation with him without your interference, if you please."
Roxas's throat convulsed and he seemed to be struggling to spit words out--but he fell silent, anyhow. Zexion smirked, satisfied, and turned to face the stricken Axel.
"What...what...what the fuck did you do to him?" he screamed, his voice rising and then cracking mid-sentence. Zexion winced; the effect was really quite unpleasant.
"What do you think?" Zexion lowered his voice to match Axel raising his. "You are the trained slayer. You should know...understand...recognize...the signs..."
"No!" Oh, Axel exploded at that. With a roar of rage, he had seized a gun from underneath his desk and aimed it directly at Zexion's heart. Zexion almost took a step back in surprise, but he managed to collect himself and merely fixed Axel with a chilly smirk, which Axel returned with an inarticulate snarl and a tremor that coursed through his entire body.
"Defend me," said Zexion quietly. Roxas, unwilling as he was, stepped in between Zexion and Axel, his arms extended, shielding his master from attack. Zexion suddenly found himself wishing for a camera, so he could record the look of shocked hurt on Axel's face. It was priceless.
"Roxas..." whispered Axel, his voice quiet, broken--shattered by hurt. He shrank back, the gun falling down to his side with no further protest from his part. He was trembling so badly that Zexion was surprised he could even stand. "Roxas...please...you don't have to do this..."
"He does. I ordered him," was Zexion's swift, flat response. Roxas couldn't speak for himself, as much as he might have wanted to--even though his throat was still convulsing in a valiant effort to force words out.
"Please--Roxas--please--" Axel's voice almost descended into a sob at the end, but he managed to catch himself in time, straightening up but never once removing his eyes from Roxas's face. Grief--pain--betrayal--shock--anger--flashed across his brilliant green eyes, each burst of emotion filling Zexion with an even stronger sense of smugness. In a way, this was just a grand version of what he'd done that other time, when he had laid bare Axel's sins before him...
And best of all, Axel couldn't harm him now. Zexion was protected, so long as he had Roxas to guard him.
"Roxas--you can do it--resist him--I know you can--he's weak, he's pathetic." Axel's tone was pleading, but fierce...and something about the way he kept his eyes fixed on Roxas's, about the intensity of his gaze...something about that disturbed Zexion. But Zexion didn't muse for too long on it, grabbing Roxas by the shoulder and drawing him back from Axel.
"Diverting towards matters of, ah, greater interest--"
"Greater interest up your fucking ass!" yelled Axel in one furious breath. Again, he'd lifted the gun, cocking it straight at Zexion's head. Zexion sighed; Axel had chosen a good target. Roxas was shorter than Zexion, so it would be harder for him to intercept a head shot for Zexion. "Look what you did to Roxas! You son of a fucking bitch!"
"I did what was necessary to assist my escape." Zexion kept his voice brisk, business-like. But that wouldn't deter Axel.
"Escape! Like hell you're escaping!" Axel spat the word as a curse, taking a threatening step closer to Zexion. Roxas maneuvered around Zexion, though, always keeping a respectable distance between the vampire and Axel. Zexion smirked inwardly; he'd picked a good servant.
"I believe I am, and you cannot stop me." He tried to kept his tone as business-like as before--but couldn't help the faint hint of smugness that had slipped into his voice. Truly, he had reason to be proud. He, Zexion, the mere incubus, the lowest of lows--outwitting the heir of one of the greatest vampire slaying families, successfully escaping without a single scratch on his own body (besides the ones already there)...though he had to owe part of his success to Roxas. If the boy had never come down to the cell, why, Zexion would never have been able to use him.
"Damn you!" Axel fired, but it was a pure warning shot--the bullet buried itself into the wall high above Zexion's head. Zexion sighed and tsked.
"What happened to your aim?"
"Change Roxas back!" Axel had switched tracks completely, now focusing his attention on Roxas again. Roxas, for his part, kept staring into Axel's eyes as well, even as he shifted back and forth to keep Zexion securely behind him. "Change him back to the way he was!"
"Transformations cannot be undone," replied Zexion flatly. "You know that. He is vampire forever. Or, I should say, half vampire, since I didn't complete the transformation. Much to my benefit."
"How? How the hell could you--? He came down to you because he felt sorry for you! Isn't that right, Roxas? Right? You felt sorry for the fucking vampire so you came down to--oh, dear fucking God," groaned Axel, his voice breaking again, and he turned to the side, too overwhelmed to continue speaking.
"Axel..." Zexion twitched in surprise. He thought he'd ordered Roxas against speaking...but perhaps he hadn't given a strong or specific enough order. He phrased a more concrete order in his mind and was almost about to utter it, but then decided there was no harm in letting Roxas talk. Who knew...? Maybe he'd say something entertaining--or best of all, distracting.
"Roxas! I'm sorry!" Axel took a pained step closer to Roxas, holding his hand out as if to touch his young protege; Roxas responded by taking a step backwards, to better guard Zexion. "Roxas--"
"No...I'm the one who should be saying I'm sorry," whispered Roxas, his voice low and hoarse. "I was...I was an idiot. I shouldn't have--you were right, all the time, everything you said...I shouldn't have felt sorry for him. If I hadn't..."
"Roxas, don't say that! How could you have known?" cried Axel, trying to circle closer to Roxas--but Roxas kept circling back, Zexion's order to guard him forcing him away from his mentor...
"But I should have! You were right when you said he was a manipulator." Roxas balled his hands into fists and shook his heads, looking frustrated--not at Axel, not at Zexion, but at himself. "I should have listened...he was just manipulating me all along. I'm so sorry, Axel...I didn't listen to you and now look at me! I'm--I'm--"
He choked off, unable to finish. Most likely, unable to declare the words that were anathema to every vampire slayer, that most of them only dreamed about in their nightmares, words that most never had an opportunity to say and words they prayed they never would have to say:
"I'm a vampire."
"Roxas..." Axel couldn't say anything beyond that low, plaintive whisper. He hung his head, seemingly wracked by shame. Roxas held up a hand as if to comfort Axel, but then let his hand drop, motionless, to his side, silent.
Zexion decided that, as amusing as this all was, it had to come to an end. It was time--time to get down to business. No more tears and whining and self-pity. Time, now, only for the thing he had come here for. It was time--time to escape.
"Well, now that we've all made up," said Zexion, clapping his hands to divert attention back to him--not that Axel and Roxas had made up, but whatever, that was a minor detail, "it's time to return to business. As sorry as I am to say this, Master, you are nothing more than an impediment to my plans. And impediments must be removed...by whatever means necessary."
He let his voice drop a few degress at the last word, become harsher, more frigid. He obtained the desired reaction--Roxas turned to face him, his blue eyes widening, terror arresting his expression when he understood...
"No! Damn you! I forbid you!" roared Axel, his voice rising. "I'm still your master, so you'd better obey, got it fucking memorized?"
"I need to obey. There is no such restriction on Roxas," said Zexion smoothly. He couldn't help but chuckle when Axel took a step back, looking like he'd been slapped, an expression of pure horror on his face. Axel immediately turned to Roxas, holding his hands out, looking desperate.
"Roxas...no matter what he orders you...try to resist...don't..."
"Axel..." Or maybe, "Augh..." Zexion wasn't sure; it was hard to make out Roxas's choked sob.
"Now, do it," said Zexion tonelessly--but a savage delight had begun to well up within him, deep within his stomach, rising to chest and spreading to his every limb, invigorating him with excitement. At last, at long last, he was getting his revenge, he was defeating Axel, once and for all, he was sending Axel where the slayer deserved to be, and when that was finished he was going to find Demyx, without Axel's interference...
"Roxas! Don't!"
"Axel, help me--stop me--"
"Do it, Roxas. Stab him."
"No!" Axel leapt for Roxas, but what he was trying to accomplish was unclear--because the action simply made him an easier target. Axel grabbed Roxas by the forearm, bearing the boy to the ground with a shuddering thump that sent papers flying through the air like doves from a gunshot. But even as Axel twisted Roxas's arm behind his back, his face a mask of anguish as he tried to force Roxas down, Roxas's other hand snaked to his belt, where a silver-tipped knife hung...
"Do it!" shouted Zexion, raising his voice to be heard above the ruckus Axel was making. "What are you waiting for! Stab him! Stab him--make sure he never gets up! Stab him, Roxas, stab him--"
"N-no, no, no," whispered Roxas, shaking his head over and over again, his eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down his face...but his fingers closed around the handle of the knife, and slowly drew it from its sheath...Axel's other hand flew to Roxas's wrist, tightening around it, trying to hold it down to the floor, but Roxas struggled, trying to yank his arm free from Axel's grip. "No--Axel--I'm so sorry--please--don't--I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry--"
"Fight it, Roxas, fight it, I know you can, I know you don't want to, fight it," gasped Axel. It was now taking nearly all of his effort to keep Roxas's arms pinned to the floor--the cords on his neck were standing out, sweat was pouring down his face, he was gritting his teeth in frustrated effort. But Roxas wouldn't be kept down; his left arm thrashed and writhed in Axel's grip as ferociously as a captured snake, resisting the slayer's efforts to subdue it...
"That's it, Roxas," said Zexion eagerly, taking a step closer and holding out his hands in an encouraging gesture. "That's it. Just like that. Stab him. Straight through the heart, Roxas. Stab him straight in the heart. Stab him so that he can never get up again. Stab him, Roxas! Stab him!"
"N...no...no...I w-won't, you can't," Roxas sobbed, but he continued fighting against Axel anyway, continued trying to free his arm. Then, in his thrashing, he kneed Axel firmly in the stomach--and Axel fell back with a curse and a cry of shocked pain, falling to the floor, releasing his grip on Roxas's arm--
And in the next instant, he was pinned to the floor, Roxas on top of him, the quivering knife held centimeters above the slayer's heart.
"Roxas..." A look of pure horror--and realization--dawned on Axel's face. Realization of his upcoming death. Axel had seen it. There would be no escape.
"Do it," said Zexion, his voice quiet, but ringing with authority. He took a step closer, and another, and another, until he was looming directly above Axel and Roxas, the frozen tableau, the knife ready to plunge into its target... "Do it, Roxas. Stab him."
"Aaunghh..!" Roxas half-sobbed, half-screamed. His arms were quivering insanely, his wiry muscles taught against the pale skin--but no amount of effort, either physical or mental, could stop him. Nothing could. Once Zexion had given the order, there could be no turning back. "Axel--"
Axel met Roxas's eyes, his gaze as suffused with pain as Roxas's. But then, with a deep, sighing exhalation, Axel relaxed, his muscles untensing, his head sinking to the floor in seeming contentment. Roxas stared confusedly down at Axel, blinking back a film of wetness from his bright blue eyes--though there was no stopping the trails of tears that coursed down his pale cheeks. Axel simply smiled at Roxas's confusion, a warm and friendly, yet sad, smile.
"It's all right, Roxas. No matter what you do...even if you do choose to do it..." He paused, seemingly trying to choose the right words, and when he continued his voice rang with steady confidence--and something more. Something akin to--something almost like--love.
"I forigve you, Roxas."
"Axel!" Roxas's scream was tormented, bursting with anger, self-hatred, pain. A flash of silver--and then--
Axel's entire body convulsed as the knife sank into his chest, vanishing up to the hilt. Axel's eyes flew open in shock, and his hands automatically flew to the knife, trying to drag it out--but that instinctive reaction would probably just hurt him more. In any case, Roxas's was pushing violently against Axel, shoving the knife further in even as Axel struggled and Roxas himself wept and shivered in self-hatred.
And the blood came. Came in torrents and bursts, gushing thick and red out of Axel's heart as Roxas stabbed the knife deeper, deeper...came coughing out of Axel's mouth as his eyes clouded and his struggles gradually ceased...Zexion almost couldn't handle it. Almost. All of that blood, so rich and red and hot and flowing--it was exactly what he'd dreamed of for almost two months. It was a bit pathetic, if he thought about it--dreaming about food. But he couldn't help it. All those days of surviving on tepid, bitter blood from the blood banks had left him craving a true meal, left him craving the kind of blood that now gushed from Axel's prone body, staining his carpet, splattering on the horrified Roxas...
But Zexion managed to hold his animal instincts in check. He stepped back, so that the tempting scent of Axel's blood didn't draw him further in. No, as much poetic justice as it would be to feast on Axel's blood...it wouldn't be wise to do so. Not now. He had to keep his wits about him.
"Axel...aughh...Axel...ahhh..." A voice, plaintive, broken beyond belief, more miserable and lost than any Zexion had heard before, suddenly broke through the haze of the vampire's thoughts. Alarmed, Zexion whirled around--to see that Roxas was still kneeling over Axel's prone body. He was shivering, his hands still around the blood-stained knife, his face white, tears flowing down his cheeks and dripping on to Axel's body. The noises he was making barely sounded like speech--they were whimperings, shivering sobs, much like a small child would cry in the middle of the night, wracked by nightmares only he could understand.
"Axel...ohh...Axel...I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Roxas lowered his head over Axel's chest, clinging tightly to Axel's bloodied shirt, convulsing with sobs. "Aungh Axel..."
Well, as amusing as Roxas's grief was...it was time to go. Snapping his fingers, Zexion said, imbuing his words with the sharp authority of a command. "Time to go. Get up. Let's go. We'll make our escape, now, before anyone can sound the alarm. Stand!"
With a great shudder of reluctance, Roxas pulled away from Axel's body and stumbled to his feet--but never removed his eyes from the slayer lying prone and bleeding, and rapidly cooling, on the floor. Lurching, his movements uncertain, he made his way over to where Zexion leaned against the wall, watching impatiently. Blood was staining his shirt but he didn't seem to care; in fact, his eyes had become dull and blank. Empty, as if his soul had died within him.
Zexion supposed it would be rather traumatizing, being turned into a vampire and forced to kill your own mentor...but the state of Roxas's psychology didn't matter to him as long as the boy could still be of use to Zexion. Throwing one long, last look at Axel's prone body, he couldn't help but spit at it, and snarl, in a low voice alive with triumph:
"You brought this upon yourself."
Then, wordlessly, Zexion turned and exited the room, not bothering to see if Roxas was following. He didn't need to bother, though--he could hear the soft footsteps of the boy behind him. They entered the hall, sweeping silently towards the stairs. However, an obstacle Zexion hadn't expected to encounter awaited them--the butler, Saunders, and the scullery maid were huddled at the top of the stairs, quivering and white-faced. Damn...but Zexion supposed he had made a bit of a racket...
"Out of the way," he said, his voice like ice as he approached them, hands behind his back and head lowered in a threatening gesture. "If you do not wish to die...you will let us pass. And you will not tell anyone what just happened. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"
The scullery maid squeaked and ducked behind Saunders, who cleared his throat several times and turned several degrees paler before managing to croak out, "Um...uh...of course, of course...yes, yes, Lord Vampire, sir--"
Lord Vampire? Rather...over-the-top for Zexion's tastes, but if the humans were deferring to him, who cared...? He flashed Saunders a brief smirk that seemed to terrify the remaining courage out of the butler, if Saunders's reaction of keeling over unconscious was anything to go by. Zexion unleashed an amused chuckle that caused the girl to whimper in fear and cower against the wall, and then he swept down the stairs, ignoring both humans completely. Roxas tagged close behind him, silent, jaw clenched tightly.
Zexion ignored the opulent surroundings, focused now only one thing--finding the door and leaving behind this hell forever. He couldn't help but quicken his stride when he saw the door, crossing the foyer in record time and throwing the door open in his eagerness to leave--
The whispering coolness of the night air against Zexion's face startled him--but only for a moment. He straightened up, turning his eyes to the heavens, revolving on the spot with his arms spread around him, drinking in the majesty of the night. Of the cool air, the cold pinpricks of the stars in the sky, the sheer vastness of the space around him...
Oh, how he'd missed this. How he'd longed for this, in all those dark days of imprisonment. How he'd longed for the open night, without a single restraint on his body...and now he'd found it. He had enslaved Roxas; he had destroyed Axel. He had escaped. And now, he was going to find Demyx, on his own terms, with his own skills.
He was, at long last, free.
Dun dun dun...and I'll leave you to absorb that cliffhanger for now. Part one of Tainted But Beautiful is over and done for.
Chapter eleven will be "North", and will be the first chapter in Part 2, "The Secrets". Plot will begin to be revealed. Preview here:
"Enough." Lexaeus, in contrast to his comrades, had not shouted--but the low, growling tone of his voice, dripping in disapproval, was enough to stop the other two vampires mid-argument. Zexion and Vexen, who had been leaning close to each other, jabbing accusing fingers at the other's chest, leaped back immediately, turning to cast sullen looks at Lexaeus. Roxas almost laughed from the bizarre comedy of the situation--it was almost like Vexen and Zexion were two schoolchildren who'd been stopped mid-fight by a teacher.
Yeah, guess who shows up in chapter next? I'll try to get it to you by the end of this week, but no promises since my family's going skiing Saturday...so yeah. Slow update. Bide your time, and in the meantime, review! I'm overwhelmed by the response this story has gotten; it really warms my heart to know people are reading this and taking the time to comment on it. So keep reading, and keep commenting!