Disclaimer: This is very, very dark. I've had this idea for a while, though.
Officer Kirkland covered the lower part of his face with his hand, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Ugh, what is that smell? He muttered in his head. It smells like…something died. Pushing his sleeve closer to his poor, abused nose, he braced himself before taking a step down the first step, flashlight clutched in his other hand.
Though he couldn't smell the stench anymore, he could feel the weight of its reek pressing in every breath he took through his mouth. What could make this kind of smell? Even a skunk wasn't this bad.
As he walked down the stairs, the darkness closed in around him, making him feel a little claustrophobic. I thought I shook off this fear when I became a policeman.
When he reached the bottom step, he swept the basement floor with his flashlight, checking to make sure that nothing was there. At first he was certain that it was empty; but something in the corner caught his eye. Slowly he approached whatever it was, trying to be as intimidating as possible just in case it was an animal.
There was a pained whimper, and the Officer straightened up immediately. That didn't sound like an animal…
"Hello?" He called cautiously. "Is anyone there?"
Officer Kirkland, or Arthur, didn't truly see it for what it was until he was standing right in front of it, flashlight shining right down. His green eyes traveled in horror over the figure, and then…shocked emerald met tormented blue.
"Hello, everyone. Today, we're getting two new kids, so be very kind to them."
Most of the kids in the circle groaned.
"Not another one!" A small boy with black hair and gold eyes said, rolling his eyes.
"Now, now, Yao." Elizaveta said, frowning. "We will welcome them and be nice about it. They're just as damaged as the rest of you."
"That's exactly what we're afraid of." Another boy with black hair and blank eyes said politely, sitting seiza.
Elizaveta breathed deeply, looking as though she were trying hard not to explode, before forcing a pained smile. "Kiku, please. They—"
"Miss Hedervary, they're here." A British voice growled, making the other occupants of the room jump.
"Send them in." Elizaveta murmured, schooling her features.
There was a long, long silence, before a shuffling noise was heard. The other occupants of the room craned their heads to see just who was coming—and were stunned by what they saw.
A little blond-haired boy was shuffling through the room towards their circle, blue eyes wide and wary of everything. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, though they were very loose around his pale, emancipated form. His skin was a sickly white color, as though he'd never seen the sun, except for the bruises that lined the child's arm.
That's when they noticed the other boy, who was on the first boy's back; he had his face buried into the other little boy's shirt, as though trying to hide from everyone else. This little boy wore a bulky red sweater and a pair of jeans, but his clothing was just as loose as the other's. His skin was also very pale; perhaps even paler than the boy who carried him; there were no bruises on him that they could see, though.
Elizaveta bowed her head, shaking slightly from the injustice that had been done to these two boys, before getting up and slowly walking over to them. She slowly leaned into the one carrying the other, and wasn't surprised when he stiffened as though about to be hit. "Hello. You must be…Alfred?" Alfred had the blue eyes, right? "And you must be Matthew. Come on; let's find a place in the circle."
The other kids in the circle nearly groaned again; they could tell that this was a torture or an abuse victim, and they were always the hardest to deal with. They flinched away at your touch every time, as though you would actually hurt them no matter how nice you were. They were also the hardest to fix, which was what the 'therapy' circle was made for.
Alfred muttered something to Matthew, keeping one eye on the other kids, and gently helped his brother slide off of him, before lowering themselves to the ground. Matthew then hid his face in Alfred's shirt again, but all of them had gotten sight of the terrified purple eyes.
"Now that we're all here," Elizaveta said, seating herself in a chair at the head of the circle. "Why don't we introduce ourselves?" She glanced pointedly at the boy next to her. "Just your name and why you're here should be fine."
The first one to go was a short, stocky blonde boy with slicked-back hair and hard, steely blue eyes. He wore a tank top and army pants, for some strange reason, with a small cross around his neck, and was very well built. "My name is Ludwig, and I have amnesia."
Alfred and Matthew stared at him, which made the boy realize that they had no clue what he meant. "I, um, can't remember anything."
Alfred blinked at him, nodding slowly.
The boy sitting next to him was in a wheelchair, a burn-scar lacing up his face under his amber eyes and chocolate-y brown hair. His smile was friendly and kind, and he wore a white dress-shirt with his legs covered by a white blanket and had olive colored skin. "My name is Feliciano, and my house burned down, crippling me, and all my friends left me. Except for Ludwig and Kiku. Right, Luddy?"
It only took a second for Ludwig to nod his head to the wide, adorable amber eyes.
"I am Kiku Honda." A boy with black hair and blank, dark brown eyes said. He was wearing a tasteful blue kimono, and he was sitting in seiza. This boy, obviously Japanese, had a delicate, fragile feel to him, as though he'd break. "My family trains sumo wrestlers, and after I was born they ostracized me from the family, and tried to beat me when I revealed I enjoyed 'anime'."
Alfred and Matthew looked just as if not more confused than when Ludwig had spoken.
"I'll show you later." Kiku muttered, looking away from the tortured eyes.
"I'm Yao Wang." Yao said, smiling widely at the two boy's, who backed away a little fearfully. They were slightly intimidated by Yao's exuberant manner; he was wearing a red Chinese-styled shirt and loose, black pants, his black hair pulled up into a ponytail and his golden eyes piercing and watchful. "Everyone at school ignored me and belittled me, so I started doing drugs and tried to commit suicide."
Yao noticed the befuddled faces, and sighed. "I tried to kill myself."
At this the two boys looked even more confused, but Yao shook it off as they were too young and didn't exactly know what death was.
"I'm Ivan Braginski." A tall boy with white-blonde hair and stunning purple eyes said, watching the two newcomers with a curious, childish face. He wore a tannish trench coat and a scarf that was wrapped to many times around his neck, skin so pale it rivaled Alfred's and Matthew's. "I'm the son of a Russian diplomat, and was tortured for two months for information and then was used as a ransom."
There was a very long silence, where the rest of the kids slowly inched away from Ivan, before the next boy went.
"I am Francis Bonnefoy. I was…how do you put it politely…sexually abused, and now have perverted tendencies, honhonhon." It was the boy sitting next to Alfred and Matthew, a rose suddenly appearing in his hand from nowhere, with blonde hair and blue eyes and normal colored skin (unlike the unnatural pales and darker tones).
And at last it was Alfred and Matthew's turn.
Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a soft croak, as though he hadn't spoken out loud in such a long time. While Matthew looked at him worriedly, Alfred licked his lips and tried again, this time managing to get out a raspy whisper. "I'm…" He turned to Matthew, murmured something and when Matthew nodded, turned back. "Alfred. And this is my brother…" Again, he turned back and murmured something, and only looked back when his brother nodded. "Matthew."
"And what're you here for?" Elizaveta asked, though she already knew.
"Mr. Kirkland told me it was because we lived in a basement." Alfred rasped, and coughed slightly into his hand.
"What's so bad about that?" Yao asked, looking confused.
"I know—" Alfred let out a gasping cough, before continuing. "K-know. I don't understand it."
"They lived in a basement that'd never been cleaned and was infested with rats. They only had one bed as furniture and no blankets. They were never allowed out of the basement, and the only reason they learned how to talk was because their father accidently left books in the basement. They got one measly, rotten, moldy meal a week and never had a bath in their lives until we rescued them. But that's not the worst part of it." Officer Kirkland growled. He'd been standing in the back of the room, listening to the group of kids tell their stories. And now Yao though that what these boy's had been through wasn't that bad? "Alfred hid Matthew under the bed and told him to be silent, and now Matthew never speaks. Why? Because their father would come down almost every day and beat them. Alfred allowed himself to get beaten for his brother's sake. Is that the worst part? No, certainly not. The worst part," Arthur spat. "Is that they themselves never saw the injustice of it! They believed it was the same thing that everyone else got!" It wasn't so long ago Arthur himself had been in this room, with a group of people and their own problems.
The other kids looked away from Officer Kirkland to stare at Elizaveta in shock. "Is it true?" Ludwig asked, his blue eyes staring in horror. "Tell me it isn't true."
She bowed her head, body shaking with sobs, and thought, Perhaps the only person who has a more horrific story is Ivan and Francis.
And so it was that Alfred and Matthew became the newest members of the Severely Messed Up Group of Kids. Or SMUG K.
A little angst-ness for ya?
Lately I've been centering on Alfred-Matthew brotherly relationships, and I have no clue why.
This was based on an abuse story in America, and though I didn't actually read the book, it talks about a kid stuck in a basement for all of his life.
I think he died.
This is very, very sad.
I need someone to request something funny to get me out of my angst funk. Maybe something with Germania and Rome...
IceEckos12