Mello's P.O.V
It's hopeless, utterly hopeless. I won't ever be able to escape from his taunting, horrifying, red eyes. I won't ever live down the painful guilt, the suffering, the actual feeling of lust that I have grown for that demon.
I might as well die.
No, that would be too easy.
I'm meant to undergo this ghastly experience because, simply, I have sinned. I have done one of the things that is utmost forbidden. Shame, hatred, all these feelings that are raging in my head are pointed directly at me. Why is that, you ask?
I think.....I've fallen for those lucious eyes. I think I've fallen deep, to the point where I can't bear to run away from it, to where there is no other way, I've fallen in love, or lust whichever it is, for him. My entire form cringes as I think these words.
I've fallen deep for him, to the point where I can't crawl away, or run as fast as the light takes me. I can't get the image of his.....exposed body out of my mind. His stripped, beautiful body sends my mind into a haze, so foggy, I can barely think as the thought blurs my head. That picture is forever burned in my memory, never to leave, never to escape, a illustration I can never erase.
Almost like a photograph, once you peer at it's exotic colors, and features, you can never remove it from your head. It will forever be lurking in the back of your mind, waiting to peek out and show you what your eyes have seen.
It's waiting to taunt you with what your eyes have sinfully seen, what they've actually witnessed. My mind enjoys teasing me, using this method over and over, every second of every minute. Everytime I shut my eyes I see him, his ruby eyes, every inch of skin on him.
I can't tell whether it's lust or love I'm feeling. I can't tell whether lust and love are seperate or the same.
Lust and Love, aren't these words really just the same? Aren't they just under the same category, the same defintion. Aren't these words said to be totally different things just to make human beings feel better because, really they're just the same. They are the same because there is no love in this fucked up world. Don't we all sin every time we whisper those three little words, I love you.
Or maybe I've just gone off the deep end, maybe I've just become insane under these harsh, cruel, and most certainly confusing condtions. Every second I breathe, every second I think, these words just seem clearer and clearer to me as if it's the only answer to thise complicated puzzle.
If I have does it make any difference? Does it really matter to anyone that Mihael Keehl has gone crazy?
Or doesn't it?
I really need to get out of here, or else I really will go mad. Though, how am I supposed to do that when he's stuck me in a room with no windows, new chains, and absoulutly no hope of escape from this hellish place.
These chains are harder, thicker, and hurts everytime I try to move off this damn chair that he's stuck me to for some unexplictable reason, he has it where I'm facing the only exit, the door. Is he doing it to tease or does he simply enjoy the sight of my desperate eyes that long to be on the otherside.
Whatever his messed up reasoning is, I cannot leave. This seems to be the only law, the only truth in this new, horrifying world that I've been dragged into. It seems almost like faith, almost like God planned this as a test, that I've managed to landed myself in such a frighhtening endurment.
If this is a fucking test, then I'm failing for sure.
Then again, who cares about useless tests, and punishments when your already in the hell of all hells.
And if I'm in hell and he's really a demon, then what's the point of me fighting these passionate feelings for him. Shouldn't I just go with it, use it for my own self and body and pray that I get some pleasure out of it? I might as well seeing as how I'm stuck here for all eternity, forever and ever, till the end of time.
This should be fun or at least interesting. Let's see what that damn bastard has set up for torture next time. I'll show him I can take it, endure whatever his little fingers have cooked up, and stay silent as he bites my skin off and licks the flowing blood away.
Why am I getting excited thinking about his torment? Why is there pleasure bubbling in my stomach just by thinking about his teeth knawing at my neck, biting my flesh, kissing my wounds? I think that proves it, I am insane.
That or I'm just really sadistic. Solitude does wonders to your brain, it actually makes you think that pain is good. I feel like a prisoner inside these for walls, imprisonment does not fit my impatient body that longs to move around, or at least stand up and remove the ache from my legs.
Or deal with the trouble that has grown between my legs. Yes, that would be nice if I deal with that immediately. I can just imagine what would happen if that red-eyed demon came in here and saw that I had a bulge between my legs.
Actually, I rather not imagine what would happen. Shivers rush up and down my spine at just the thought of it. I can almost feel his knife that he hides in his jeans, grazing my cheek, leaving a trail of blood to flow down like a solitary tear in the admist of lust.
I best stop these thoughts or else I might just explode.
My electrifying thoughts are pushed away as I hear the door creak open slowly, mockingly, as if to make my nerves jolt for whatever is to come. He had his back to me as he came in, lugging something behind him as he did so. It was large sack with something big, something moving inside it.
"Hello, my love!" he said with a terrifying, yet intoxiating smile on his face. He held the sack between his slim hands behind his back, holding it in place as if it was going to escape if he didin't. Why do I have an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of my stomach. Why does he look oddly suspicious as he smiles at me with a wide, crooked grin.
The bag moves, rumbles, and for a second, I think I hear it moan. My eyes advert themselves away from the figiting bag and toward those red, sinful eyes. They are full of passion and hunger, a need most likely for my body. I almost see it in his thoughts, his violent desires, and the impatience to rub his blade across my skin.
If that's what he wants then fine.
I'm in hell afterall; I have no control over whatever he chooses to do with me. All I can do is hope that I get some sick, revolting pleasure out of it.
"Mello, are you curious what I have brought you today?" He asks with a fake sweet tone, as if he were talking to down to some child. I can see the edges of his smile curve up as I glare at his childish attitude, yet, I can't stop the burning sensation in my cheeks as I wonder what could be in that bag.
I refuse to answer his question an instead, turn my face away to hide my developing blush. I hear his feet walk across the ground towards me, and in a flash, my eyes are focued back on his as he forces me to stare in to his blood-red orbs. There was a twinge of annoyance behind his eyes as he roughly let go of my face and moved back to the bag.
I watch as he rips it open, revealing what was inside: a person; a scared, petrified person!
What the fuck is he doing kidnapping a man?! Then again, he did kidnap me......is this some kind of fetish for him? Kidnapping random people off the streets is what pleasures that sick, beautiful skull of his? The only probelm is what does he plan on doing with this person?
"It's for you Mihael," He grins wickedly and I stare back, puzzled, confused, wondering what the hell he's talking about, "I decided that I wanted to give you a bit of a show for being such an interesting pet." At this he pulled out a large, sharp kitchen knife that only caused the burnette behind him to scream in horror through his gag.
I hear him speak as I stare shock at the curve of his weapon, "It does help that I truely hate this person. You see, he is a very special friend to one of my former pets who is now a very dear enemy." His red eyes sparkled and he grabbed the burnette by the hair on his head.
All I could do was watch as he drew a quick, jagged line across his cheek. Blood came pouring out in bent lines down his cheek and onto his shirt. The man arched his neck in agony as B prickled his wound with the point on his knife, laughing as he did so.
"L is that disgusting little beasts name and this here is Light. L had the nerve to actually run away from my loving care. Can you believe that Mihael? So these days he's been trying to catch me in a vain attempt to anger me. Such a naughty pet." My mouth was agape as he was telling me this. Pets? Is that what he sees people as, stupid, little pets to do his bidding? Is that all I am?
A fucking pet.
A fuck toy.
A throw-away object.
A pet?!
"I'm not a fucking pet! Your fucking insane!" I scream at him, "You see people as objects just to pleasure you?! You know how fucking disgusting that is?! I can see why L ran away from you in the first place! I hope he catches yo-" I'm cut off as his hand comes down hard on my cheek. The stinging feeling burns my eyes and I can feel the blood form at the corner of my mouth, in fact I can taste it.
"Now, you wouldn't want to be punished, would you, Mello?" His voice is like venom and drips or murder. I dare to look up to his face and find a dark, almost evil look plastered across as if his childish actions never even exsisted.
I felt panic rush through my veins as my yearning pumped straight into my skull. I felt exhilarated, but apprehensive at the same time, the emotions spilled into one, forming this unknown terror inside me.
He brought his lips down to mine and for a spilt-second I thought he was going to kiss me, but I awakened by a fierce pain. He bit down hard, uncaring like an animal eating its prey. I groaned in agony and tried to twist out of his grasp. This only caused him to tear my lip open and let the metalic liquid drip down my chin like saliva.
"Don't cross me again, Mello." He only used my name in such a tone when he was livid with me. I quickly obeyed his firm command like a hurt puppy and stayed silent, shaking from the callous pain in my lower lip.
"Where was I before I was rudly interrupted? Ah yes, so I caught his little friend as a warning to not tempt me." He proceeded in slashing Light's other cheek, causing Light to cringe from the surprise. His auburn eyes shut tight, and he struggled against the ropes, all ending in vain however as all he ended up doing was allowing the rope to bite into his exposed skin.
It was a pathetic sight really, seeing this man beg through his restrains for forgiveness for a crime he did not commit. It looked as though he was dragged by his ankles into this situation through this "L" guy. My morals scream at me to stop this, yet, my mind is hushing me, telling me to watch this stranger suffer at the hands of my demon.
My demon? Where did that come from?
"So, my Mello, you shall watch as I teach this man a very harsh lesson about choosing his partners wisely." His maniac grin only made the will to stay silent stronger. This is a time where crossing B is the last thing you want to do.
Actually being anywhere near the crimson-eyed fanatic would be less than desirable, just as if being near a tumbling skyscraper would not be very delightful. If I were to describe the demon as something I would say fire; if you cross him in anyway you will get burned,
Wordlessly and almost cowardly, I watched as B seized his knife between his thumb and forfingers as delicatly, almost as if he were painting a picture, carved a thin line across Light's quivering collarbone. I can only feel a glimpse of the pain it brought him as I watched the raw tears drop down his bleeding face.
"Ah, you can almost smell the delicous liquid, don't you Mihael?" At this he brought the knife to his lips and...... licked it, he actually licked the blade. His tongue soothed over the knife's teeth tenderly, as if the knife were fragile, which was certainly not the case.
I stared willingly, my eyes drawn to his hot mouth, the saliva that mixed into the blood on the knife, "Of course, Mello's blood is possibly the best-tasting out of them all."
Using the knife blade, he cut open Light's button-up shirt, scattering the buttons across the hard, cold floor. The newly, revealed skin tensed under B's knife as he dragged the blade down the center of Light's chest, only stopping when he reached the naval.
"It's for you, my lovely pet." In one stroke, the knife had gushed it's way through Light's stomach, twisting and turning, blood trickled out in large, rushing forms. Light's deafening scream was muffled by the gag, but it was all too real, all to unbearable, all too painful. B's torture continued as he stuck the knife farther in and pulled out what to be and intestine.
I think I'm going to be sick.
No, I know I'm going to be sick.
How have I fallen for such an evil, sick, tormenting, cruel monster!?
How can he laugh hysterically as the man beneath his knife whithers in pain and torment?!?!
Is this........this must really be hell. Only screams of agony and can be heard here, and no one escapes with their life.
My God......
"Henh henh henh, I know you just love this show, Mihael." He whisper my name is such a way that it almost seduced me, but who could be seduced when someone of bleeding to death in front of him?!! With a final chuckle, the demon brought his knife down to Light's skull, a cruching sound was made, and all was silent after the last booming scream.
It seemed like a millennium before I could finally open my mouth, "You sick, twisted bastard." Was all I could whisper, however.
B chuckled cruely, and once again, grabbed my face by the palm of his blood-stained hands. He said, mockingly, "But you still love me, don't you?"
I couldn't bear to answer because deep within me I knew he was right.
The answer was yes.