A/N TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of physical, emotional, and verbal child abuse. Please do not read if you feel uncomfortable.

Please R&R! Thanks! :)

Claude opens his eyes to find his body supine and steadily being rocked by waves from an unknown body of water. The waves could be heard all around him, as they took their journey to an unknown shore. The water was pleasant, it was warm and it seemed to lull him. He observes that the waves sounded like low, slow and steady breaths. With every crash, an exhale was just below the under current. As he opens his eyes, he looks down to see the water was clear as crystal and he could make out his naked chest and stomach submerged in the water. The steadiness rocks him and soothes his muscles.

He looks straight up above and was met with an overcast sky. The clouds displayed a light gray, he could not see a hint of sun anywhere behind the gloomy surroundings, no rays broke through to kiss the waves and it was a dismal sight. Strangely enough, his feelings did not match it and the water seemed to put him in a calm. It was a calm he had never felt before, his worries, cares and pain were all a distant fog in his mind.

However, fear was present. It was ominous around him. It tries to seep into the darkest place of his soul. He dreads what the vastness of this sea held, but decides to close his eyes, let the euphoria penetrate his body and let wave after wave crash against him.

After a long while of entrancing silence, save the slow breathing of the tide. Splashes could be heard in the distance and it was moving closer to him in his place in the water. The louder the splashes got, the more anxious Claude became. He lifts his head to search for the source and worry over took him. He dreaded what he suspected was real and what was almost upon him at last.

The next splash happens next to his right ear and he jumps to a sitting position in alarm. He rubs the side of his face and frantically searches for the culprit. He scans the water and before he knew it, he spots a large eel swimming toward his leg. It would have easily brushed against him if Claude hadn't moved and for some unspoken reason, he didn't want these things to get near him. He felt threatened and intimidated by them. Claude quickly brought his limbs close to his body, he draws his legs against his chest and wraps his arms around them tight. He watches the creature move close and it slithers back and forth through the current with ease. Using its tail for momentum, it was like oil in the water.

Claude brakes his line of sight from the gilled predator long enough to eye the shore, he assumes that it couldn't be that far off, as the water was shallow enough to make a run for it. But when he plans to rise, three more eels were seen slithering in the shallows at both his right and left. Eventually a huge plethora of eels encase him in a small circle and broke any gap between Claude and the shore. He finds it impossible to try to avoid them. So, he settles himself in the small enclosure and waits for them to part. But it was in vain.

The space between him and the circling eels seem to grow smaller by the minute and they were relentless. It was proving harder to avoid them at all sides and Claude finds himself looking around frantically. He tries to keep all of them in check and the task was fruitless. He squeezes his arms tighter around himself, tries to make the ring separating him and the eels larger. It was getting harder and harder to fend them off.

All of a sudden, one eel succeeds in brushing against one of Claude's ankles and immediately Claude feels an unearthly seize, that effects his movements. It steals his mobility, his speech, his breath and his vision. It twists his reality and takes him back to a place he never wanted to visit again and shows him the face of a man he never wanted to come in contact with again. The memory devours his mind.

"You must bleed out the sin boy! Say it!"

The man's heavy voice was heard over the child's shoulder. It rang out onto his soft, exposed, white flesh and deafened his ears. He trembled waiting for the first blow.

"Forgive me…" The boy began softly.

The first crack was numbing, but it cut the boy's plead off in an instant. The moldy air eventually crept in and stung the very first assault made on his lower spine.

It was his seventh year.

The young boy, closed his eyes tightly, whimpered softly before being able to utter another word, but finished shakily.

"…For…for I have sinned." He stuttered out.

"Don't you dare cry boy! You brought this upon yourself. Say it again!" Demanded the man behind him.

"Forgive me…"

CRACK

"… for I…"

CRACK

"…Have sinned."

CRACK

The boy kept his hands where the man could see them, they were pressed against the stone wall of the stables. He found that his nails had clawed into the stone and broke at the pressure to compensate for the heated strikes against his back. The pain was searing.

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, they threatened and teetered on the edge of their rims. His throat tightened and ached. He longed to cry out, but he refused because he knew it would make it worse and he was old enough to know the consequences.

Fresh warm blood could be felt sliding down the small of his back. It stained the top of his small trousers. The man's voice was heard again without mercy.

"Go confess your sins Claudius!"

Claude lowered his hands to his sides, balled his fists tight and held his head low. He folded his arms to his chest and stomach, in a small attempt to protect his vulnerability. He turned in shame, toward his father and answered softly.

"Yes father."

His father looked to him and sneered.

"And stop slouching! Or you'll get another bout of it!"

Claude unfolded his arms and straightened quickly at the barked order. He managed as well as he could. He found it was easier to stay in that position and discovered bending his back to his previous posture made the cuts split open and start bleeding again. He saw it as blessing in disguise.

"Sorry Father." He said in a small voice.

"If I ever see you doing anything other than your studies, you will get triple. Do I make myself clear?" His father presented a stance that made Claude shrink back and he met his father's stabbing, cold eyes. He remembers to straighten and when he did the newly made wounds opened with a sting. Claude winced inwardly but hid his discomfort and answered in a hushed tone.

"Yes father." Claude watched as his father turn to his side and wiped the blood from the leather threads with ease. Nothing but red could be seen transferring from the black leather to the white cloth. He dismissed his only son with disconnection.

"Leave me." He ordered mechanically and unemotionally.

"Yes sir." Claude said quickly.

Claude grabbed his shirt from the hay scattered ground and exited the stables as fast as he could. Heading to the church for confession, he didn't look back and finally long awaited tears fell down his tender cheeks. The crisp Fall air cooled them by the time they reached his small jawline.

Claude was brought back to his reality in limbo and the eel swam away in a hurriedly manner and disappears into the mesh.

He can't find his breath. All he can do is sit there with his jaw slack, he didn't have enough air in his lungs to even try to scream out and he felt paralyzed. It was the shock, the shock at the first strike, but more so from the horrid memory that it produced. It was a memory of his first bloodletting, brought on by his trespasses and there were many more to come in his days as a young child. Days he never wanted to live again.

All he could do was sit there and tremble, due to the growing cold and out of the raw mental trauma. The water had went cold and it made him feel even more exposed to these devilish sea serpents.

He started to shake in his fight to keep himself together. Unabashed tears slipped from his eyes and slid down his cheeks. He didn't dare try to wipe them away, he feared any movement would attract the attention to more eels. He just tightens his hold, closes his eyes and rocks in an attempt to soothe himself.

More splashes were heard as another eel approached. Claude freezes and tries to avoid its touch by scooting back, but that meant coming in contact with the ones behind him. It was no use, he had no choice and before he knew it he felt slimy flesh swipe his foot and the pretension was unbelievably painful. Soon another memory swims behind his eyes and then all surroundings change again.

Claude kept his head down in procession with the other twelve year old boys, heading to the church. His brown hood blocked the sight of his face as regular Parisian gawked at the scene taking place. It was a regular thing for boys his age to take this quiet trek to Notre Dame, for their studies for priesthood. But, it still didn't stop the average person from taking notice.

None the less, Claude could feel their eyes on him and it unnerved him. It had nothing to do with being on display. The feeling rather made him want to meet the eyes of the ones that practiced daily happenings that did not require refrain. He was too curious and he had to remind himself to stay on his path of righteousness. He knew all too well that the punishment was severe.

As he walked, he kept his eyes glued to the ground and he was succeeding. Until, a slight wind blew at his hood, it lifted and distracted him. He looked to his left and locked eyes with a gypsy girl in the crowd. He kept walking as he stared. He couldn't look away and she was the only creature in the square that he was aware of.

She looked as if she was his age. She had long straight black hair that fanned at her neck line and her eyes were a pale gold. Her skin looked like a sweet caramel, a sweetness too exotic to fathom in his mind at the age of twelve and she was so…so beautiful. Claude's own realization confused him, but also scared him. His father warned him of these sort, they were not to be trusted and they would be any man's oblivion.

"These demon spawn will send you to the pits of hell! They are not to be trusted! They are heathens! They wallow in the sin of the flesh, practice their ungodly Pagan rituals in blood and sacrifice. Do not fall for their charms!"

His father's warning rung in his ears, as the bells of the church rang out around the square.

Claude found himself staring way to long, as the bells shook him from his revere. He ran into the boy ahead of him, for the line had stopped. He momentarily looked up to find his father at the top of the church's steps with a look Claude couldn't decipher.

His back automatically started to tingle, his heart rate increased as an unnamed nervousness came over him. A feeling of nausea could be felt in the depths of his stomach and he felt like he could vomit at any second. He choked down the bile lurching in his throat as the boy ahead of him turned his angry gaze away and continued towards the doors of the cathedral.

That was the first night his father made him turn the crop on himself. From that day forth, Claude punished himself for his own unholy thoughts and actions. It was almost a daily occurrence.

The eel swims away with the speed of a viper and mocks Claude in its malevolence against him. The situation and the eels were completely void of any clemency. Claude notices that the attacks were coming more frequently now and he gives up trying to battle them.

His stomach becomes sour with sickness, his muscles and skin ache. His old afflictions scream in pain, as if it was etched in them, reminding him of his weaknesses, his carelessness and his overwhelming sense of emotion that he tried desperately to stamp out. But, he could only numb so much, before something else tried to penetrate it. The fear started too early and the disjuncture was all so present.

How could one be so loathed as I?

What had I done?

Was it merely a test of my will?

Or was I truly unwanted?

All these questions unlock in his mind. Another excruciating jolt pulls him to another horrid experience in time. A memory that shaped his ideas of the world and how dismal it was too become.

Claude wondered into his mother's sleeping chambers. He had experienced a night terror again and it had frightened him out of sleep. He tried to fall back to sleep, like his mother had always said to do, but he felt eyes on him and it made him leave his small bed to wonder in search for her.

"Mama…" He called out with need in his small voice.

He rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his tiny hand as he sobbed quietly.

He tottled his way to her bedside and pulled the covers to try to get her attention. A whimper slipped past his tiny lips as he did so. He was scared and the room was dark. He couldn't see over the edge of the bed either, he craned his head, but it was too high.

He stopped for a moment looking back nervously, it seemed as if he saw something and it made him start desperately pulling at the curtain of blankets flowing down the side.

He pulled harder, was able to lift himself and succeeded on peeking his small dark head over the edge. His wet brown eyes found his mother asleep all the way across the other side and her back was facing him.

Claude straightened his arms and reached as far as he could. When he pulled, he maneuvered his small legs over by bending one knee and hoisting himself onto the surface. He squirmed onto his hands and knees and wasted no time crawling to his mother. He reached her, sat on his knees and placed his small palms flat on her hip and pushed down in hopes of waking her. When she didn't respond, he calls out again in a tiny teared filled voice.

"Mama…"

When she still doesn't respond, he lowered his head onto the inner swoop of her waist and rested his head. He put gradual pressure on her arm, to try to rouse her. When that didn't work, he lifted his head, moved up near the head of the bed to tried to get a better look at her face, but got distracted with her long black locks spread across her pillow and he innocently stroked. He must have pulled little too hard at one point, not knowing his own strength and woke her with a start. She twisted her head around to find him behind her.

"What are you doing?! Why are you up again?!" She asked with alarm and irritation.

She turned on her other side, sat up on her elbows and faced him, but her look showed no concern, only annoyance. She asked him again and Claude sat back, not knowing how to express his fears to her, or his need for her comfort, for her warmth and protection. He couldn't say it, he felt her energy and it made him shrink away.

"I'm waiting child!" She continued impatiently.

Ignoring his intuition with her coldness, he still tried moving shyly to her, testing his boundaries and she gets up quickly before he had the chance to get close.

"No…This is the third night in a row Claude, I can't have you ruining my sleep with this."

"I told you, you can't sleep with me. You need to be strong and face things on your own."

Claude watched his mother move to the other side of the bed as he started to cry. She stopped at the other side motioning him to get off. He crawled to her with trepidation, but still tried to latch to her and she grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Ow..mmm." He cried out in discomfort, fresh tears fell at the sudden gesture and she pulled at him to get off the bed. He struggled by trying to pull out of her grip, by using his other chubby hand as leverage. He only managed to slip at her hand every time. She was ten times stronger than he was.

"No! Do as I say!" She ordered.

He stopped and obeyed, but she didn't let go. She roughly pulled him towards the hallway to his room. His small legs couldn't keep up with her pace and he stumbled behind her, only then does she let go with frustration. His small hands smack the marble floor to shield his face from a blow.

"You are such an unruly child! Is it so hard to contemplate your position or even consider me?" She bellowed at him.

Claude just sat on the floor at her feet, looking down, holding his small wrist and cried without abandon. Sobs echoing against the hall.

"Enough! Get into bed now!" She demanded with detachment.

She just stared down at her two year old son with a hidden smirk on her lips, as if she enjoyed watching him struggle with all of it. Claude still looked down at his small hand, he sniffed and eventually got to his feet. He wavered a bit, getting used to balancing on his own two feet and moved shakily to his bed. He crawled under the covers fast, shut his eyes, while the shadows wasted no time in blackening the corners in the small space that distinguished the light. His mother moved down the hall without even blinking an eye and ignored her son's pleas to be comforted. Claude fell back to sleep from total exhaustion. Eventually, Claude stopped seeking her out altogether.

Claude holds his head low, stares blankly at what would be the last eel to drudge up anymore hidden pain or shame within him. He absently notes the eerie grin the eel held, as it floated in place in front of him in the shallows and Claude continues to stare long after the thing had parted. His resolve was weak and it was getting harder to fight the urge to break.

No other memory pained him more than the last. It cut deeper than all the physical scars combined. He knew later in life, long after his parents had died from the plague that his mother could not handle the burden of a child. Only several years after that instance did he retain the fact that his mother resented him. He would have come to the realization on his own however, studying other Parisian children and their parents. He knew his relationship with both his parents was not the same, but at the time he came to the conclusion that he was being made stronger for what his father alone instilled in him. Or at least that's what he wanted to believe. He was stronger than the ones that demanded coddling and false promises of safety.

Was that even the truth?

Something deep inside him was telling him different and it made him admit; even in his numbed mind that he did long for just a taste of some sort of tenderness and to finally feel warmth. But because of the man he has become, there was no room for it and there was no redeeming to obtain it. There was no solace away from the daily reminder that he was an original sinner and that he deserved reprimand.

Just let the bitterness build the walls and do your duty. Bare the cross, through the marks created to cleanse your helpless soul and move on.

It was getting more and more difficult to stop the constant berating on himself and he finally lost the fight. He cries hard, bitter and angry tears. While messages never failed to deliver his self-hatred. The eels, despite the fact they were no longer needed, stayed and continued to swarm around him. They swam in full confidence. The words he was hearing were just as confident and the voice he was hearing was his alone.

Without love, without any outside knowledge from any other.

I will break you.

Because you are unloved.

No one will ever know why you are who you are.

You are nothing but a product made tyrant.

You are a villain.

Without a past.

Without any story.

Without any excuse.

I will make you bleed out before you realize you mean anything to anyone.

You are alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone…

Claude grabs his knees tight, bends at his waist, as uncontrollable waves of sobs tear from his mouth. They made his whole body quake and he trembles at the sheer force of the emotion that over took him. Unstoppable tears drop from his bloodshot eyes and made perfect ripples in the icy water. Every time he thinks he has sustained things, more abuse follows and it starts the process all over again.

You are weak.

You are nothing.

You are sin.

You're okay…

Claude didn't hear the first sign of reassurance, but heard his name very clear after.

Claude?

He looks up in a sopping mess with total confusion and shock. He hears another voice speaking in calm, hushed tones. The voice echoes throughout the atmosphere. He raises his head and finds that the source was coming from the sky. It was coming from behind the gray clouds. They still loomed over him, the water and the eels.

"The eels?"

He speaks quietly to himself, he looks out around his vicinity and finds that the eels were lessoning in numbers. They were disappearing.

Claude?

He faintly hears his name being called once again, it was too far away and he could barely make it out. He was so transfixed on wanting to hear this disembodied voice, he was ignorant of the clouds parting. Not until warm beams of light eliminate his frigid skin. He looks out to watch in awe as the eels scatter, as each beam made contact with them. Eventually they were out of sight and out of mind.

Claude looks up, squints, as the light made a perfect slice through the gloom. He follows the gold down, as it spreads from his hands, to his chest and covers his head in a blanket of calm. It warms his cheeks and dries the tears and the feel of hopelessness vanish. It was an indescribable relief. Relief of the physical pain and emotional sorrow that has haunted his steps since the day he was born.

He closes his eyes, lets the warmth consume him and let it carry him out of the turmoil of his own self-loathing and into the perfection that was all too elusive.

Lay back and rest Claude.

He breathes a long awaited sigh of relief at the command, straightens and lays out on his back. He lowers, lets the warm water melt away the pins and needles that prodded for so long. He let the water wash the cuts, the scraps, the lashes away and he falls into a tranquil slumber. The only sound heard was the heavy sleeping breaths of the waves rocking him into blackness.

A/N Well there you go. Hope it wasn't too depressing. I have to admit, this chapter was hard to write. I actually cried a few times writing it.

I have to give credit to the movie entitled "The Cell" for the eel idea. There is a small scene with eels in the movie signifying walking on egg shells and making the wrong move would prove to be consequential. If you haven't seen it, please do so, it's very good. The premise delves literally into the mind of a serial killer.

Also, I added a huge Alice In Wonderland reference too. Wonder if anyone can guess what it is. LOL!

I hope to start chapter 3 soon. I've had some family issues I'm dealing with so please bare with me.