Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1144773.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kingdom_Hearts
  Relationship:
      Axel/Roxas
  Character:
      Xion, Cloud_Strife, Organization_XIII
  Additional Tags:
      Slavery, Sexual_Slavery, Hurt/Comfort, Sex_Toys
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-01-20 Completed: 2014-09-22 Chapters: 40/40 Words: 118947
****** Broken Hallelujah ******
by ParadiseAvenger
Summary
     When Axel's slave runs away, he has to buy himself a new one. Little
     did he know that he was biting off way more than he could chew when
     he bought a beautiful and damaged boy. He had been tortured into a
     doll without a heart. AU. Adult Themes. AxelXRoxas.
***** Christmas Shopping *****
Please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! The Breaking of Poisonwood by
Paradise Avenger. (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a
slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new
life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when
Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior…
Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we
discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to
his advantage. The Poisonwood—)
…
I realized that I can’t write good yaoi when it’s based on a relationship.
Rape, no problem—just look at Taking Sora. It’s just a little slow in coming
because I can only do so much evil at one time. But nice loving guy
relationships are proving to be difficult so, of course, I have to do it just
to torment and challenge myself.
So, bear with me because this will be hard to write and I’ll update when I get
something I like on paper… err, on Internet, on Microsoft word. Ah, damn it…
                                     X X X
~July 15, 2023: past midnight
The young child woke to the sound of shattering glass and opened his eyes to
tongues of bright fire licking quickly across the carpeted floor. He lurched up
in bed, grabbed the covers tightly in his little fists, and screamed for his
mother. The nearness of the fire was a threat, a promise, and a quiver of
terror ran down the boy’s spine.
Again, he cried for his mother and then wailed for his father.
Somewhere else in the house, he heard his mother’s high-pitched scream and his
father’s enraged shouts. Then, there were two harsh bangs that cut through the
silence of the night. The sound echoed in the boy’s ears over the crackle of
the fire.
The young boy whimpered and pressed against the wall to escape the fire
consuming his bedroom greedily. He clung to his teddy bear and stared through
the scalding brightness.
Suddenly his door was kicked inward with a crash and he saw the shape of a man
in the darkness, lit up by the bright flames. He was wearing a mask.
“Daddy?” the boy whispered eagerly, but this man was the farthest thing from
his good strong father. In fact, he might have been closer to the devil,
especially dancing in the flames like that.
The masked man grabbed him up from his bed in a tangle of sheets and blankets.
The boy’s favorite teddy bear slipped from his fingers and fell into the fire.
Without thinking, the child grabbed the burning treasure and screamed at the
flames licked into the flesh of his hand. The heat from the fire was searing
and it was like nothing the young boy had ever felt before in his short life.
Shouting something like a warning, the man knocked the burning bear from his
fingers, slung his small body over his shoulder, and left the blazing house.
The child couldn’t breathe, his eyes watered in the smoke, and his hair
crackled in the heat of the flames. But the man knocked open the front door
with his fist and they finally spilled outside into the fresh night air.
Someone shouted, but the words were lost.
Then, the boy was thrown onto the wet grass, coughing and choking. Someone
slapped a wet cloth over his burnt hand, tied it tightly without a care, and
tore a scream of pain from the child’s lips. The boy rolled onto his stomach
and stared in horror at his burning home.
“Mommy? Daddy?” he sobbed and tears streamed down his face.
He turned away from the sight of his ruined home and looked towards the man who
had pulled him from the fire. Was he a policeman or a fireman? Why was he
wearing a mask?
In the bright firelight, the men and their van were illuminated in stark
relief. The men who had taken him out of the burning building stood watching it
burn until the house was nothing but a skeleton. They laughed amongst
themselves and a chill ran up the child’s spine. Somehow, he knew these men
hadn’t come to save him and he realized his parents weren’t going to emerge
from the rubble to rescue him either. The boy thought of his bear.
With one quick glance at the men, the child scrambled to his feet and ran
through the wet grass. The nearest neighbor was too far to walk and he knew
that, but he also knew deep in his heart that if he didn’t run something
terrible was going to happen to him. His heart pounded and his burnt hand
throbbed.
One of the men shouted, “The brat’s getting away!”
There was the sound of pounding footsteps on the grass behind the child.
“No!” the boy shrieked. “Stay away! Please!”
But his pleas were ignored. Within moments, the man scooped him up by the back
of his pajamas and caged him in a grip like iron. No amount of kicking or
screaming would save the boy, but he struggled anyway. The blow was sudden and
the boy tasted blood. He cried out and dug his nails into his captor’s clothed
arms to no avail.
“Load him up,” one of the men ordered. “I want to finish this before dawn.”
There was a nod above the boy’s head and the back door of the van opened wide
like a mouth to devour him. There was a cage inside, but it was small and
probably meant for a puppy. The boy continued to scream and struggle, but he
was easily shoved inside. The door of the van slammed shut and he was plunged
into total darkness that was broken only by the eager chattering and laughter
of the men who had destroyed his home.
:::
~Ten Years Later
There were three indisputable facts this month. The first two were that it was
nearly Christmas and it was freezing.
Axel Inferno did not like winter and did not like the cold. If he had had his
say in the matter, he would be warm and comfortable on the couch in front of
the television, but some unforeseen events had screwed up his plans. So now, he
had his hands shoved deep in his pockets and toyed with the lighter he carried
but he did so carefully. He had already set his pants on fire once and did not
to wish to do so ever again. His chestnuts did not need to roast on an open
fire.
The winter sky was a shade of gun-metal-grey and concealed by a thick blanket
of snow-bearing clouds. According to the weatherman, there was the very real
threat of the blizzard of the century on the horizon though nothing but a few
flurries had arrived yet. As Axel’s father always said, “Great storms announce
themselves with a single breeze” and so flurries would arrive before blizzards.
Axel was out and about today against his will today because of the third
indisputable fact of life this month. His slave—a nicely-built and strong
blonde who he had owned for about two years, Cloud—had run away. It had been
over a week now and no one had even glimpsed hide or hair of Cloud. So Axel
decided he was as good as dead and was out shopping for a new slave in this
bitingly frigid weather. But it was going to be a pain in the ass to replace
Cloud.
Axel was already in a bad mood and the weather wasn’t improving it much.
Neither was the atmosphere.
Going to the Slave Market—cutely and badly named the Puppy Mill—was often like
going to hell in a lace-trimmed hand basket but it was even worse on a bleak
day. In the harsh light of a warm day, the slaves were grubby but alive with
their cheeks pink and their eyes bright. This close to Christmas and on such a
dreary snowy day, the usually busy streets were deserted and it just looked
like the road into a hellish necropolis after the end of the world had come and
gone.
The only activity on the wind-swept streets were the few slaves that had been
forced to stand outside by their vendors. Most of them were naked and all of
them were in chains. As an icy breeze gusted through, Axel hugged his jacket
tighter around his body and a pang of pity went through his heart.
One girl in a tattered dress was shivering so badly that her teeth were
chattering like bones and she cupped her hands desperately over her breasts.
Another boy’s feet were getting blue with frostbite from standing barefoot on
the cold concrete with cold chains around his ankles for so long. A naked
beauty was chained to a storefront’s threshold with a small phallus pushed deep
inside his body to show how much he could take and his bruised skin was covered
in goose bumps.
Axel stuck his head in the doorways and told both the shopkeepers, “Bring them
inside for pity’s sake. No one was shopping except me and it’s damn cold.”
Then, he continued up the street, window-shopping and not finding anything that
tickled his fancy.
He was too pissed off at Cloud for running away. That bastard! It wasn’t as if
Axel beat him black and blue or starved him or anything so Cloud didn’t have a
good reason to run away. Axel kept his slaves well-fed, dressed, and bathed. It
wasn’t that bad a life if you could get over the worst aspects of being owned,
body and soul by another person.
Grumbling to himself, Axel stamped his feet to warm them up. He had to stop
trying to figure out why Cloud had run away. It certainly wasn’t doing him any
good and Cloud was never coming back. He had to get a grip and move on which
was precisely why he was here at the Puppy Mill in the freezing cold so close
to Christmas.
It was then that something caught Axel’s eye.
The movement was so quick that it might have been a ghost, but Axel glimpsed
the beautiful creature at the threshold of the shop just a stone’s throw up the
road. Immediately, he wanted that one—no matter the cost.
He quickened his pace and positively rushed into the shop with the tails of his
coat flapping like wings. The interior of the shop was brightly-lit and harshly
illuminated the many slaves that were chained or caged inside. They all stared
at Axel with mingled fear and want, but he looked past them for the stunning
youth he had glimpsed in the doorway only moments ago.
The merchant stood behind the low counter with the cash register atop it and he
had the stunning beauty bent violently over the desk.
Axel’s breath caught as he laid eyes on the beauty in full light. Her hair was
cropped short in haphazard spikes around her head and her eyes were a shade of
sapphire that would have made the gem weep in shame. Her pink mouth was parted
in a cry that was stifled behind her thin white hand and her cheeks were
flushed. A filthy brown cloak was thrown over her naked back and obscured her
body from view.
When Axel entered, the shopkeeper quickly cast the girl away into the shadows
of the small room just behind the desk. “Ah, how may I help you?” he asked
immediately and there was a ridiculously small tent in his pants. It took all
of Axel’s restraint not to comment as he approached and the shopkeeper did his
best to hide his erection behind the low counter.
“I’d like to see the girl that was just at the doorway,” he said and his green
eyes flicked to the shadowed office behind the shopkeeper. “The one you were so
interested in. I hope you didn’t exploit her. I’m not interesting in such used
merchandise.”
For a moment, the shopkeeper looked stricken—probably from being caught in the
act—but then he barked a laugh, turned, and shouted, “Get back out here, you
little shit.” Then, he smirked at Axel as if he knew something he didn’t. “The
girl, eh?”
Axel didn’t understand until the beautiful girl came slinking out of the
shadows.
Her bright blue eyes darted fearfully from the shopkeeper to Axel and back. The
shopkeeper grabbed the girl’s filthy cloak in his meaty hand and they fought
over it for a moment. The girl’s eyes were wide and desperate and her mouth
opened in a small silent cry, but the shopkeeper finally tore the single
article of clothing out of the girl’s hands. It was then that Axel realized why
the shopkeeper had smirked.
The beautiful girl was in fact not a girl at all, but a young boy.
Axel only glimpsed the stunning boy’s pale nudity for a second before he
dropped into a crouch. He wrapped his thin arms around his nakedness and hid
rather effectively behind his legs. All Axel could see was the rounded skeletal
thinness of the boy’s narrow shoulders and the slight trembling that wracked
his body.
The shopkeeper grinned further. “Not a girl. Sorry, sir,” he said and then
tossed the ragged cloak over the boy’s back carelessly.
Immediately, the youth grabbed the cloak around his narrow shoulders and
scrambled backwards into the shadows. Those blue eyes glowed in the dimness of
the shadowed office space, peering out of that gaunt yet breathtakingly
beautiful face, but the rest of the youth’s body was hidden by the filthy
cloak.
Now, it was Axel’s turn to grin. “That’s even better,” he said shortly. “I’ll
take him.”
The shopkeeper’s smile faltered and he cast a quick glance at the hunkered boy.
The pathetic tent in his pants quivered as he asked, “Are you sure? He’s a
mute, sir.”
“Even better, even better,” Axel repeated. “How much for him?”
Greedily, the merchant forgot about his arousal as he and Axel haggled on a
price. After all, the slave was stunningly beautiful but mute and the merchant
had probably used his body recently. All that counted towards a hefty discount,
but money hardly mattered to Axel. After all, Axel had more money than God
since his father was the CEO of a robotics corporation and Axel was his second-
in-command. They settled on a price quickly and easily.
“Okay. Thank you for your business,” the shopkeeper said as he eagerly scanned
Axel’s card into the register. After handing back the card, he turned to the
beautiful boy and snapped, “Get to your master’s side, you worthless wretch!”
The stunning boy showed no signs of moving. He remained crouched in the shadows
like a pretty gargoyle with his lower lip caught painfully between his teeth.
He trembled all over and his fingers clenched in a white-knuckled grip on the
filthy cloak.
Then, the merchant put his foot in the youth’s side and savagely kicked him to
sprawl on the floor at Axel’s feet. The youth cried out sharply and he looked
up at Axel with those blue eyes so full of fear and pain. A drop of blood
rolled from the corner of his lips and dripped onto the floor.
Axel grasped the boy’s wrist and pulled him to his feet. “You belong to me
now,” he told the boy and reached to cup his face.
The boy flinched, but was unable to pull away as Axel gently wiped the blood
from the edge of his soft mouth with his thumb. The boy trembled, his face was
ghost-pale, and his eyes were like looking into a blue abyss.
“Let’s go,” Axel said coolly.
Then, Axel pulled the boy out into the freezing cold, marched him to his car,
stuffed him into the passenger seat, turned the heat on full blast, and put the
pedal to the floor on his way back to his nice warm house. The boy gazed out
the window, silent and shivering.
More flurries had begun to fall—faster and faster—and the blizzard was coming.
                                     X X X
And… since I don’t normally write yaoi… The more reviews and encouragement I
get, the better chances are that I will continue working on this story. For
once, I need encouragement. If nobody likes this, I’ll probably ditch it
because why work on something I don’t really like and no one enjoys reading?
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review for more!
***** Little Blessings *****
Due to popular demand, I wrote another chapter. (Yay me!) If you guys want more
of this, you’re going to have to get after me because I miss my comfort zone
and I’m not a happy camper. (And I really wish it would rain and that they’d
finish rebuilding Sonic.)
                                     X X X
During the ride home in an enclosed car with the heater blasting, Axel became
aware of one small but pressing problem that followed the three indisputable
facts this month. His new slave positively reeked.
He reeked of dirt and sweat and urine, but was probably mainly because of the
filthy cloak he was wrapped so desperately in. The more Axel glanced at his new
slave as he drove, the more he realized the cloak wasn’t brown but in fact red.
That was a lot of grime this boy was wrapped in, but the stunning youth
appeared to prefer to filthy cloth to being nude and Axel couldn’t really blame
him.
Even so when they got home, the first thing that boy was getting was a bath and
then some real clothes and then a meal, in that order.
Distracted by his new slave, Axel drove home on muscle memory alone and he
barely realized he had pulled into his driveway until he found his hands
putting the car in park. “Here we are,” Axel said as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
“Hop out.”
The boy got out and shivered as the harsh winter breeze whipped down on him,
but the boy didn’t appear to notice the cold. He was staring up at the
beautiful Italian-style villa with its great front pillars. The house was all
windows filled with bright amber light, open balconies with ornate wrought-iron
railings, and a dark terracotta tile roof. The grounds were encased with a
white stucco walls like the bones of a beautiful body and the wide lawn was
covered in a thin blanket of snow. In the rear of the house was large pool
fringed by a garden (neither of which would come to fruition until summertime).
Axel smirked as he caught the boy’s elbow and led him up the front steps to the
house.
The butler stood at the door, looking regal and patient. “Young master,” he
said with a small bow. He eyed Axel’s new slave as he closed the door. He took
in the image of the filthy cloak, the too-thin fingers, and the stunning face
in a single glance. Those eyes were full of fear and beauty.
“Chives, how’s it going?” Axel said conversationally.
Axel was as oblivious as ever, Chives decided and replied, “Smashingly, sir,”
with thick dignity.
“That’s good,” Axel remarked and shrugged out of his coat.
Chives tucked it away into the closet and moved off with purpose that Axel
didn’t understand.
Axel towed the boy past the living room furniture and the deliciously crackling
fire. He led him upstairs to the room that had once been Cloud’s and tried not
to grumble to himself as he did so. It was a fantastic room complete with
balcony and ensuite bathroom, but he didn’t give the boy a chance to admire the
room. Immediately, Axel brought the boy to the bathroom and closed the door
behind them with a bang that made the youth jump in shock.
“Okay, take that off. Let’s get you cleaned up,” Axel said before turning away
to rummage some shampoo and a fresh bar of soap from beneath the vanity. When
he turned back, the boy was staring at him with terrified blue eyes. His thin
hand clenched into the material of the filthy cloak at his throat and clutched
it closed over his nudity. “Well?” Axel demanded.
Trembling, the boy shook his head and desperately hugged the cloak to his body.
“Come on. I just want to get you cleaned up,” Axel said calmly.
The boy shook his head again and tried to back away, but he was already pressed
against the edge of the vanity. There was nowhere for him to retreat to and he
bit his lower lip nervously.
With a sigh of defeat, Axel just grasped the cloak and tried to pull it away.
The boy’s eyes widened even more and he desperately tried to free himself from
Axel’s grasp. He stepped back from Axel until he was pressed against the wall
completely and he did his best to hold the cloak closed over his naked body.
His bare feet slapped on the floor and wildly sought for purchase in his panic.
His breath came sharp and fast and rattled in his lungs like something broken.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Axel said softly and released the cloak
placatingly.
Like those of a cornered animal, the boy’s eyes darted away.
Axel raised his hands. “Hey, calm down,” he said gently. He spun the taps of
the bathtub and held his hand under the water for a long moment until he was
content with the temperature. “Now, you’re going to have to take that off and
get cleaned up sooner or later so you might as well get it over with now.”
The boy shook his head again and his knuckles whitened desperately on the
filthy cloak.
At this point, Axel was cold, impatient, and still cheesed off about Cloud
running away so he didn’t really think about what he was doing. He just grabbed
the cloak, tore it from the boy’s body, and tossed it immediately into the
trash. The can rattled on the tile and the sound echoed in the silence that
followed.
For one stunned moment, the boy just stood there with his fingers still frozen
in the act of holding the cloak so tightly. Images of the boy’s nakedness
flashed before Axel’s eyes like the photos of a crime scene—a hideous burn
here, a jagged cut there, dark bruises everywhere. Sharply, the boy folded in
on himself just as he had at the Puppy Mill to hide as much of his body as he
could, but Axel had already seen.
“My God!” Axel half-shouted and his heart leapt up into his throat.
Axel grabbed the boy’s wrists, pried them away from his body, hauled the boy to
his feet, and held his arms apart. With his body spread-eagled like that, every
inch of damaged flesh was exposed. The boy struggled, but it was like holding a
baby bird. The boy was weak—no, he was beyond feeble. He wouldn’t have been
able to beat his way out of a wet paper bag and he was certainly no match for
Axel.
As beautiful as the boy’s face was, the rest of his body was a stark contrast.
First off, he was emaciated beyond the natural thinness of abused slaves. Every
rib was exposed and crooked from old breaks, his hips stabbed out like knives,
his shoulders looked like the skulls of birds, and his stomach was as concave
as a bowl. He looked like a survivor from Auschwitz. Actually, a better
description would be that he looked like a corpse raised back to unnatural life
from the mass graves at Auschwitz. He was that thin—death thin—and even his
beautiful face was showing the signs with sunken cheeks and eyes.
The rest of his body was nothing but dark bruises, scars, and angry bloody
wounds marking every inch of him from his fingertips to his toes.
The damage stopped abruptly at his throat without touching his beautiful face
save a single dark bruise that marred the side of his jaw. At least a dozen
small round scars scored his chest and shoulders and though they had healed,
Axel could tell they were cigarette burns. There were thick ugly bruises and
swollen welts on the rest of his torso as if he had been bound or harshly
beaten. Fresh fingernail scratches tore across his chest and down his thighs.
In the mirror, Axel could see that the boy’s back had been whipped to the bone.
“God, who did this to you?” Axel breathed out.
The boy struggled, twisting his blonde head this way and that.
“Who did this?” Axel demanded as gently as he could.
The boy squirmed in Axel’s grip. His mouth opened in a cry but no sound
emerged.
Axel scooped the boy up in his arms, cradled him tightly to his chest, and
gently set him in the warm bath water. The boy pressed himself as far away as
possible until his shoulders compressed into the porcelain side of the tub. He
folded one hand over his mouth and gazed up at Axel with wide terrified eyes.
Hardly able to breathe, Axel sat at the side of the tub and stared at the boy’s
damaged flesh through the swiftly dirtying water. He had seen slaves in bad
condition before—even Cloud had been thin and scarred when Axel first purchased
him—but Axel had never seen anything as bad as this.
This… this was enough to make him dangerous.
Axel turned the water on again, pulled the drain so the tub wouldn’t overflow,
and took down the showerhead. The boy didn’t shy away from the warm water as
Axel let it pour over his head and shoulders to slowly wash away the filth and
blood. The boy watched him closely with those abyssal blue orbs.
Then, Axel squeezed some shampoo into his hands and reached towards the boy. He
immediately flinched away, but Axel slowly persisted until he was able to slide
his fingers into the boy’s hair. He gently washed the kid’s blonde hair and
tried to be mindful of the wounds in his scalp. His hair really was pretty. It
was a rich honeyed gold and naturally hennaed. Axel rinsed the shampoo out and
pressed a bar of soap into his hands.
“Come on. You’re filthy. Get cleaned up,” he encouraged.
The boy didn’t move and his fingers curled over the rim of the tub.
Axel sighed. “If you don’t, I’ll have to.”
This made the boy’s head snap up. His blue eyes filled with tears, red-rimmed
and terrified. Slowly and desperately, he shook his head and reached out
trembling hands for the soap. When Axel tried to hand it to him, he quivered
away and it fell in the dirty bathwater. Quickly, he fished for it, found it
beneath the water, and began painfully scrubbing himself raw and red as if
purging something invisible from his skin.
Axel watched, stunned, as the water turned black. The boy’s skin grew paler and
paler, but even more damage began to show as the layer of filth washed away.
There were more cigarette burns on his arms and his wrist was crooked from an
old break. Hickeys marked his collarbones and there was a horrible fruitlike
wound at the junction of his neck and shoulder.
It looked as if someone had been trying to torture him to death.
“Why are you hurt so badly?” Axel whispered.
The boy shook his head and closed his eyes. A tear slid down his cheek and
splashed into the dirty bathwater.
Now clean, all the fight seemed to go out of the poor boy. He didn’t protest as
Axel unhooked the showerhead and rinsed him off. When Axel eased him into a
standing position, he simply covered as much of his body as he could with his
hands. Axel rinsed him off again, helped him step out of the tub, and wrapped
his naked body in a fluffy white towel. The boy snuggled into it and gratefully
covered his body again.
Axel saw his eyes dart desperately to the ruined cloak in the trash. “We’ll get
you something a little better,” he said softly. “Man, I don’t think I have
anything that’ll fit you though.”
Axel moved out into the bedroom and the boy followed nervously. His footsteps
were quiet and Axel would have thought he was a ghost if not for his harsh
unsteady breathing. The boy laid eyes on the bed and shied away as if he saw
something that Axel didn’t—as if the bed was something evil that would devour
him.
“There aren’t any boogeyman under the bed, kid,” Axel said as he fished some
clean boxers and a t-shirt out of Cloud’s dresser and handed them to the boy.
“Get dressed.”
The boy glanced from the clothing to Axel and then down at his feet. Then,
abruptly and quickly, he dropped the towel and yanked the shirt on over his
head. Just as quickly, he pulled on the boxers and snarled himself up in the
wet towel again as if the cloth could protect him. He peered out at Axel from
beneath the hood of the towel with his blue eyes shining.
Though the sight was humorous, Axel’s brow wrinkled with confusion. “What do
you think I’m going to do to you that you’re so afraid of?”
The boy’s eyes darted to the bed and then to the window, but then lowered to
the carpet without giving anything away. He trembled and his fingers curled
into the wet towel.
Axel shook his head and sighed heavily. “I guess we’ll deal with it in the
morning. Stay here while I get you some clean sheets. You can change the bed,
can’t you? Or should I get Chives to do it?”
The boy shook his head and his teeth dug nervously into his lower lip.
Axel left the room without a word and stood in the hallway for a moment with
his back against the wall. He breathed deeply and tried not to think about all
the damage that had been inflicted on his new slave. God, it was horrible.
If he had beaten Cloud like that, he would have understood the desire to
escape, but Cloud had been treated so well.
Axel quickly cut that train of thought off harshly and marched down the hall to
get some clean sheets from Chives. “I need some sheets,” he said shortly to the
butler.
“Planning to soil them already, young master?” Chives said as he handed over a
nice set of Egyptian cotton sheets.
“Hardy har,” Axel grumbled at Chives before snatching the sheets and stalking
back down the hallway. Sometimes, Axel thought he might be paying Chives to
keep him humble. He opened the room and found the boy standing in exactly the
same place and looking just as frightened. “Here you go,” Axel said smoothly
and set down the sheets on the bed. “We can worry about the dirty opens
tomorrow morning so just throw them in the closet for now. Night.”
Then, Axel slipped back out into the hallway and locked the door at his back.
Since Cloud’s escape, he had a lock installed on the outside of the door and he
didn’t think the boy would be desperate enough to take a leap of faith from the
second floor balcony to the ground below. He would not have another slave
escape him. It had been a long day and all he wanted to do was snuggle into his
warm bed and sleep.
                                     X X X
If you're enjoying this revisited story, REVIEW if you want to see more! Also,
I'd like everyone drop SUGGESTIONS on what you'd like to see in it. I most
likely won't use all of them, but little suggestions tend to roll around in my
head and nag at me until I write.
As before, if not a lot of people review or read this, I won't continue and
I'll probably kill it for good this time. This story (unlike all my others) is
completely dependent on the reviewers.
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review for more!
***** Breakfast of Distractions *****
I miss my comfort zone… Nuts… I wonder why this is so hard for me to write. I’m
so cool with gay guys. They’re so awesome and nice and I don’t have issues with
writing the sex or any sex. Maybe I just suck at romance… Do I suck at romance?
                                     X X X
When Axel woke up the next morning, untouched white snow blanketed the grounds
and ferns of frost swirled across the windowpane. Well, the weather wasn’t all
that great and it was definitely cold outside, but he was rested and he didn’t
have to leave the house today for anything. Plus, it was almost Christmas so
his father would be coming to visit. All those thoughts greatly improved Axel’s
mood and chased away all brooding thoughts of Cloud’s escape. After his
happiness passed, Axel began to think about what was on his list of chores for
today.
His growling stomach promptly reminded him that he had gone to bed without
dinner last night and the slave-boy he had purchased was probably starving.
First things first, breakfast for him and the kid. Sausage and eggs sounded
good.
Axel’s second thought was that he really needed to get that boy checked out by
a doctor for any lasting damage to his body from all those wounds. For all he
knew, the boy could have a raging infection or some unknown disease.
After he pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, Axel dug through his bed for his cell
phone. He really needed to stop sleeping with it under his pillow. He was such
a restless sleeper that he could never find it the next morning. Finally
fishing the phone from the crack between the wall and his mattress, Axel put in
a call to Riku Wise.
Though Riku had been ahead of Axel all through high school and had the kind of
life most guys dreamed of—dating the head cheerleader, being the MVP of the
football team, and drop-dead gorgeous to boot—Riku’s life afterwards hadn’t
been a bowl of cherries. Riku got into drugs before college, lost his
girlfriend and most of his money, and slipped off the grid for a while. After
an overdose and brush with death, Riku recovered from his addiction. He went to
medical school in honor of the doctors who saved his life. Nevertheless, Riku
was a close friend and best of all he made house calls.
“What do you want, Axel?” Riku answered in a tired voice. “I’m busy.”
“This is business. I bought a new slave to replace Cloud and I need him checked
out.”
“Axel, I’m busy—”
“He’s gorgeous,” Axel put in.
There was a short breath of silence and then Riku said, “I’ll be there at
noon.”
Axel grinned like the cat that ate the canary.
Riku was so easy to manipulate it was almost laughable. Scratch that—it was
laughable!
Axel chuckled to himself while he walked down the hallway to Cloud’s old room.
He slid open the lock and eased the door open. If the boy was asleep, Axel
didn’t want to wake him, but the bed was empty and untouched. A bubble of rage
welled up in Axel’s throat. Had another slave escaped him?
Axel hurled open the door with a loud bang and the boy jolted up from the floor
in shock. For a moment, Axel only stared at him. The boy’s fingers snarled
tightly in the towel from the night before and his eyes were red-rimmed. It
didn’t look like he had slept at all and he shivered violently.
Axel’s raged cooled and he knelt beside the boy. He reached out to touch his
cheek, but the boy flinched away. A small animal sound escaped the boy’s
throat.
“What is with you, kid?” Axel murmured and withdrew his hand.
The boy just stared up at him with big blue eyes, silent.
“Come on,” Axel murmured and gestured for the boy to follow. “Let’s get some
breakfast in you.”
It must have been the promise of food that made the boy rise quickly and follow
Axel from the room. He stumbled along behind Axel in silence, keeping his eyes
glued to the floor as they walked. Axel glanced back at him and sighed heavily.
This was probably going to be harder than he thought.
This boy was nothing like Cloud.
Axel chased those thoughts away with a torch and pitchfork. He led the boy
through the living room and pointed to an empty seat at the dining room table.
“Sit,” he said. “Wait here while I get some breakfast for us.”
The boy wordlessly inclined his head and timidly sat. He clutched the towel
around his shoulders and pressed his lips firmly together as if to stop a cry
from coming out.
“Good morning, Chives,” Axel said when he entered the kitchen.
The butler looked up from his tea and toast. “Ah, good morning, Young Master,”
he said smoothly. “I didn’t expect you up so early.”
As if in answer, Axel’s stomach growled loudly.
Chives smiled. “Your usual?”
Axel nodded. “And something for the kid, too.”
Chives lifted a brow. “The kid?”
“Yeah, my new slave.”
Chives nodded and turned towards the stove. “Breakfast will be ready in just a
few minutes.”
“Thanks,” Axel said because you never wanted to anger the person who cooked
your food. Chives might have been a servant, but he was really more like
family.
With a sigh, Axel left the kitchen and sat down across the table from his new
slave. The boy remained seated just as Axel had told him and his eyes were
fixed on the surface of the table. He trembled as if feeling Axel’s gaze and
Axel looked out the window at the snow-covered lawn instead.
A few moments later, Chives served them without ceremony.
A plate of sausage and eggs along with a steaming mug of coffee was placed
before Axel and he gratefully dug in. When a warm bowl of oatmeal and a mug of
tea settled in front of the boy, he just stared at it. His knuckles whitened
around the edge of the table painfully. Puzzled, Axel sat back and cupped his
hands around his coffee to watch the boy, but he showed no signs of eating even
when the oatmeal stopped steaming hotly.
“Eat that,” Axel said abruptly.
The boy jumped in his chair, glanced sidelong, and then stared back into the
bowl. Hesitantly, he picked up the spoon, dipped it in, and began to eat with
the slow cautiousness of someone who expected to be punished or poisoned. When
Axel did neither and a long moment passed, he ate quickly and eagerly. His
hands shook. It must have been torture to sit in front of the bowl without
eating it for so long.
“And drink,” Axel added when the oatmeal was finished.
Chives fetched away the dishes and refilled Axel’s mug. His footsteps were loud
on the polished marble and the boy flinched slightly.
The boy palmed the mug lightly in his small shaking hands, lifted it
cautiously, and stared within the mug for a moment as if something lurked
there. Then, finding nothing sinister, he took a small sip and Axel saw a
tremor go through him as the tea warmed his bones from the inside out.
“See, it’s not so bad,” Axel consoled. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The boy set the mug down silently and stared down at his hands. His fingers
were trembling and his nails were chewed to the quick. Blood oozed beneath his
cuticles and from his cracked nails. Jesus… what a nervous habit. Those bruises
that circled his wrists looked even more painfully hideous in the light of day
and his joints were swollen slightly even though Axel hadn’t shackled him. He
must have had a lot to worry about and even more to fear.
What had been done to him and why? How long had he been tied up and tormented?
Why had Cloud run away?
Axel beat that thought back and turned his attention on the boy. “What’s your
name?” he asked. “I can’t just keep calling you ‘kid.’”
The boy shook his head.
“What’s that supposed to mean? You won’t tell me or you don’t have one?”
He only shook his head again.
Axel sighed. “Jeez…” he muttered. “Okay, from now on we’ll call you… ah hell, I
have no idea.”
The boy’s eyes flashed up, so bright and beautiful blue that it made Axel’s
heart skip a beat. God, he had such a thing for blue eyes. This kid’s eyes were
the most beautiful shade he had ever seen and fringed with pale lashes so long
that they shadowed his face. Cloud’s eyes hadn’t been that beautiful.
Axel shook himself and said, “You’re really a beautiful kid, do you know that?”
The boy looked away. The pulse in his throat beat furiously and his fingers
twisted in the towel.
Axel sighed. “Okay, kid… You’ve been through hell—that much is clear—but I’m
not out to hurt you. Later on, a friend of mine who is a doctor is coming to
give you a checkup. I want to make sure that your body’s all right. I mean, you
look like you’ve been beaten within an inch of your life.”
The boy shivered and bit his lip.
“How old are you, kid?” Axel murmured. “You can’t be more than twelve. I guess
that makes me a sicko for buying you, huh?”
The boy shook his head.
Axel lifted a brow.
Slowly, his hands shaking, the boy held up fingers.
“Fifteen?” Axel murmured. “You’re fifteen?”
The boy nodded.
“And you understand English?”
Another small nod.
“Are you really a mute?”
The boy looked away.
“Okay, alright, one thing at a time,” Axel relented. “You’re fifteen. How about
your name? You have to have a name.”
He shook his head.
Axel sighed again. “Well, one step forward, two steps back. Slow and steady
wins the race though, right?”
The boy didn’t respond. He just squeezed his arms tightly around himself and
shivered.
Axel glanced at the grandfather clock nearby and ran a hand through his wild
red hair. He had several hours to kill before Riku showed up but he had no idea
what to do with the kid now. The boy wouldn’t talk and he found the floor way
too interesting. His every movement spoke volumes of the abuse he had suffered
and Axel wasn’t the most delicate man under any circumstances. The boy was
scared to death of everything, so what should Axel do with him? What did you do
with a person like that?
Cloud had never been—
Axel groaned and rubbed his hands harshly over his face. “Come on,” he said
finally. “Let’s watch some TV.”
At the very least, it would keep his mind off Cloud.
                                     X X X
I wanted Riku’s scene to all be in one chapter so I cut this off a little
shorter than I probably should have. Riku’s scene is the main part I wanted to
write anyway. That little idea birthed this whole story. That’s pretty sad, I
suppose…
Questions, comments, concerns? I have one: Do I suck at writing romance?
Review for me!
***** Deepen the Wound *****
This part gave me the idea for the whole story. So, I'm finally getting to
write it. Yay me! (I also just realized that in all my slave stories I’ve never
sent anyone to the doctor! I wonder why that thought never occurred to me
before right now.)
                                     X X X
A few hours ago, Axel settled comfortably on the couch in front of the roaring
fireplace, half-watching the television and half-watching his new slave. He
wrapped the kid up in a heavy blanket and taken away the towel since he didn’t
have anything save boxers and t-shirts that would fit him and the kid was still
shivering. (It seemed likely that the boy might be shivering from cold rather
than fear, but that proved not to be the case.) The boy sat silently beside him
and occasionally chewed nervously on his fingertips. Axel always put out a hand
and the boy would stop only to tremble violently in fear.
When Riku arrived a little after noon, he was out of breath and rosy-cheeked
from the cold. He brought a lot of snow and a gust of icy air in with him.
Axel swiftly tore his attention away from the television and squawked, “Damn
it, Riku! You’re letting in the cold!”
“Gee, sorry Axel. Maybe you should move to a warmer climate… like the Bermuda
Triangle!” Riku snapped as he unwound his scarf and handed it to Chives. “I’ve
been out in this all morning so stop whining about the cold until you go out
and trudge around in it!” Then, his green eyes fell on the beautiful boy seated
beside his old friend and his jaw hit the floor. “Wow. Is this him? Gorgeous!”
The boy flinched back into the couch cushions and clutched the blanket closer
over his shoulders like a shell.
“Yeah,” Axel said and shut off the television.
“I don’t see a mark on him,” Riku murmured as he approached the sofa.
The boy backed up against the arm of the couch and his blue eyes fanned the
room wildly. When they fell on the threshold into the dining room, his thin
muscles coiled to run, but Axel caught the boy’s wrist before he could escape.
A little mewl of terrified anguish escaped the boy’s lips and Axel had to look
away from those terrified and desperately pleading eyes.
He held the boy’s body firmly against his chest and captured in his lap to keep
him from struggling as he worked the blanket off. The t-shirt Axel had given
him was too big in the neck and it slid down off the boy’s narrow shoulders to
reveal countless small burns, bruises, and hickeys. His legs and arms were
skeleton-thin and just as badly marred as his shoulders. Axel lifted the hem of
the t-shirt to reveal the boy’s jagged ribcage and even more damage.
Riku inhaled sharply and reached out to lightly touch a hideous scar that
bisected his flat stomach.
Tears flooded a boy’s eyes, a small sob escaped him, and he turned his face
away desperately. He trembled in Axel’s arm and struggled weakly.
“Jesus, Axel…” Riku breathed out. “You’re supposed to look them over before you
buy them. This kid’s body is like Swiss cheese.” The doctor traced the circular
scars on the boy’s chest and arms. “Are these cigarette burns?”
“I guess,” Axel said softly and folded the thick blanket over his arm. “I don’t
know. You’re the doctor.”
Riku shook his head and pushed back some of his silver hair. “Stupid, Axel…
Let’s go upstairs so I can examine him properly.” He picked up his bag and
headed off without waiting for Axel or his patient. Sometimes, Riku had the
bedside manner of an armadillo.
Axel released the boy and rose from the couch. “Come on,” he said gently.
“Let’s go upstairs.”
The boy dropped to his knees in a desperate bow and shook his head frantically.
Tears dripped on the floor and his bitten fingers dug into the tile. Wearing
only an oversized t-shirt and boxers, the boy was a pathetic sight that ripped
at Axel’s heartstrings. He was so small without the blanket swathed around him.
Why was the boy so terrified? What had happened to him?
“What? No one’s going to hurt you,” Axel said.
The boy shook his head again and his entire body trembled.
“Axel, what’s keeping you?” Riku called from the top of the stairs.
“Nothing,” Axel said.
The boy was still crumpled on the floor, pleading and trembling. Uncertain of
what else to do, Axel gathered the boy in his arms and carried him upstairs.
The boy strained away from Axel’s hold as much as he could, but didn’t try to
escape. His small body shook and his teeth chattered. Though Axel tried to
soothe his fears, nothing he did appeared to help. The kid was only a shivering
mess of nerves and scars, bones and bruises, suffering and fear.
Riku waited in what used to be Cloud’s bedroom. He opened his black medical
bag, slowly took things out, and laid them on the bed where they were easily
accessible. “Okay, Axel,” he said without turning around. “Get him to take his
clothes off.”
The boy’s cerulean eyes widened with terror and he thrashed in Axel’s grasp
until he was forced to put him down. The boy backed away from Axel with his
hands lifted at meager defense between them, shaking his head and pleading with
his eyes. Axel shushed him as he approached and the boy tried to bolt for the
door. Axel caught him by his wrist and felt the thinness of the bones beneath
his hand.
It was both easy and impossible to pry the boy’s fingers from the t-shirt and
peel it over his head. Immediately, the boy dropped to his knees and hugged
himself tightly to hide his naked flesh. Axel scooped him up, carried him over
to Riku, and sat him on the rumpled bed among all the medical supplies. The boy
tried to scoot away and his hands clutched the sheets desperately.
“What did you do to him, Axel?” Riku asked as he studied the boy’s reactions.
“Nothing,” Axel said softly. “He was like this when I brought him home. I think
the merchant was using him, you know what I mean.”
Riku nodded and whispered, “God, look at that chest.” Lightly, he grasped the
boy with a hand on his shoulder to keep him from scooting away and traced his
fingers over the many wounds and scars. “It’s amazing he survived this without
any medical attention.”
“He never had any medical attention for this?” Axel asked and peered over
Riku’s shoulder.
“Well, someone probably slapped antibiotics and some gauze on him, but he
didn’t go to a doctor, no.”
“How can you tell?”
“If he had been stitched up, and this wound definitely needed stitches, it
would have healed very thinly—half an inch tops—and this scar is about an inch
and a half thick.”
“Jesus,” Axel whispered.
The kid trembled and tears slid in slow paths down his cheeks.
Axel shushed him. “Riku’s not going to hurt you,” he consoled the boy. “He’s
just here to help.”
Riku stepped back and released the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s just start with some
questions. It’ll give him some time to relax before I examine him. So, what’s
your name?”
The boy lowered his eyes to the floor without speaking.
“What’s that mean, Axel?” Riku asked.
“Well, he’s a mute.”
“Okay… Then what’s his name, Axel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, where’re his papers?”
“I didn’t get any with him. I bought him from the Puppy Mill.”
Riku pinched the bridge of his nose. “Axel,” he moaned.
“What? He’s gorgeous! I couldn’t resist.”
“You never can. Okay, let’s give it a shot anyway. Name—blank,” he grumbled and
filled in what he could such as gender, hair, and eye color. “Date of birth?”
“I don’t know,” Axel said.
“Height?”
“He’s got to be about four foot ten or five foot.”
Riku rolled his eyes. “Weight?”
“You don’t have a scale?”
“I’m making house calls. You’re supposed to have a scale.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“So guess.”
“I don’t know! Not enough? He’s a freaking twig!”
Riku rolled his eyes again. “Okay. Age?”
“I know that one!” Axel shouted eagerly. “He’s fifteen.”
Riku squinted at Axel. “You’re twenty-two, you pedophile.”
“My father is ten years older than my mom,” was all Axel had to say for
himself.
Riku rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay,” Riku continued. “Now you’re going to have
to think of a way to get him to answer. There’s no way you can answer these
next ones.”
“What are they?” Axel asked.
“Trust me. Get him to answer.”
Axel crouched in front of the boy, cupped his chin lightly, and forced those
blue eyes to meet his own green ones. God, this kid had the most beautiful
eyes. “Now, listen to me, you’ve got to answer everything Riku asked you and
answer truthfully, alright? All you have to do is nod or shake your head,
okay?”
His eyes were caught in Axel’s gaze as if transfixed and he slowly nodded.
“Good boy,” Axel said softly and then turned to Riku. “Okay, we’re all set.”
Riku sat down on the bed and looked at the boy. “Have you been sexually active
in the last six months?”
“You can’t ask him that!” Axel shouted. “He’s fifteen for Christ’s sake!”
“Axel, shut up. You said yourself that the merchant might have been using him,”
Riku said with a fierce glare. “Do you want him checked out or not? You don’t
know for certain if he’s been used, but I need to know if I should to check him
for STDs. Now, sit down and shut up, Axel. This is weird enough…”
He turned back to the beautiful fifteen-year-old boy and Axel saw sadness in
Riku’s face. Riku dealt with many things through the years and he never talked
about what he had seen during that time of drugs, booze, and violence before he
cleaned himself up. There was suddenly no doubt in Axel’s mind that Riku had a
vague idea of what had happened to the beautiful kid.
Axel closed his eyes.
“Have you been sexually active in the last six months?” Riku repeated gently.
Timidly, the boy nodded and his eyes swelled with tears.
“In the last year?” Riku whispered.
Another small nod.
“The last two years?”
Nod, more tears.
“The last three?”
A sob escaped the kid and he pressed his hands to his face. Again, he nodded.
“The last four?” Riku whispered. He almost didn’t want to hear the answer even
though he already felt the truth in his chilled bones. If the boy said yes,
that would put his age at eleven and no child should be exposed to sex that
early. But it was as he had feared.
The boy nodded.
Axel made a strangled sound.
“The last five?” Riku continued and he felt cold to his core. ‘God, please,
don’t let him nod,’ Riku thought to himself and his veins burned with the sting
of half-remembered drugs and sweat.
But the boy did.
“Six?”
“God! Stop it!” Axel shouted suddenly and threw up his hands. “Move on! We
don’t need to know all that!”
Riku shuddered.
The kid sobbed into his hands and his entire body trembled.
Axel’s first instinct was to embrace the boy and soothe him as best he could
with soft words and warm arms. However, he suddenly wasn’t certain that was the
right thing to do. How would the boy respond to being touched when he had been
‘sexually active’ since he was ten? Who could do that to such a young kid? It
was a horrible thing to think about—it was the stuff of nightmares.
Riku bit his lip and gently caught the boy’s attention. “Was it… was it
willing?” he asked softly.
The boy shook his head.
“Does it still hurt?”
He nodded.
“When was the last time someone… took you?”
His gnawed fingers trembled as he held up five of them.
“Five weeks?” Riku whispered, but he already knew the answer.
The boy shook his head.
“Five days,” Riku murmured.
Axel sat down hard on the floor and put his head between his knees. The room
was spinning and he felt nauseas. “Riku, stop it,” he pleaded.
“Was there blood?” Riku continued softly.
The boy shook his head.
Riku set aside his papers and stood up. “Axel, I’m going to need your help.”
“For what?” Axel asked and his knees muffled his voice.
“I have to take a look.”
The kid scrambled backwards on the bed, shook his head desperately, and lifted
his thin white hands to ward off Riku.
“What?” Axel breathed.
“I need to make sure there’s no internal damage,” Riku explained. “For that, I
need to take a look and I need to feel inside him.”
“Can’t you… just… not?”
Riku shook his head. “I wish I didn’t have to, but if his colon has collapsed
or been perforated, it could lead to serious problems. Help me, Axel.”
The boy threw himself to his feet and dashed for the door, but Axel caught his
wrist and pulled him back. He pinned the boy against his chest and tried to be
as gentle as possible as he forced him face down on the bed. Riku pulled down
the boy’s borrowed boxers to expose his badly beaten behind before tugging on
rubber gloves with a snap. He applied some lubricant to his gloved fingers and
then to his metal speculum so he could get a swabbing of the boy’s damaged
insides while hurting him as little as possible.
The boy struggled wildly, sobbing and fighting Axel’s hold, but he was so thin
and weak that it wasn’t even a fight.
Riku stepped up behind the boy and pressed his knees into the back of his
thighs to keep him from lashing out with his legs. Then, he gently spread his
battered cheeks and discovered scars even there. A single round burn seared
into the fragile skin just above his entrance. A small white string trailed
from the boy’s body and Riku tugged it lightly. The boy cried out and Riku
gently snaked his hand around to press over the boy’s abdomen. He could feel
the hard lumps of something buried inside the boy’s body.
“Hold him tightly, Axel, just in case,” Riku murmured before he firmly grasped
one end of the string. “I don’t know what’s inside him.”
“What?” Axel whispered.
Riku shook his head and instead began to gently pull on the string.
The boy stopped struggling and lay still as Riku cautiously began to remove the
foreign object from his small body. He trembled violently as the muscles of his
entrance stretched wide and finally released the large orb that had been rammed
inside him.
“That’s been inside him the whole time?” Axel rasped out.
Riku nodded and tugged the string lightly but it remained securely trapped
within the boy’s body. “There’s more to it,” he said.
The boy’s small hands fisted in the sheets and he whimpered.
“Just get it out of him,” Axel murmured.
Riku nodded.
The doctor pulled the string with steady pressure until a second ball emerged
from the boy’s thin body followed by a third. He shuddered as each bead was
removed, but a shred of tension appeared to leave him as each bead emerged.
Riku continued to tug the string of balls free and kept his hand pressed
lightly to the boy’s abdomen. The pressure abated as the final bead fell free
from the boy’s body. He sagged against the mattress, breathing hard.
Riku and Axel stared at the string of beads. God, it was nearly ten inches long
and the balls were large. If Axel hadn’t called Riku to check on the boy, only
God knew how long those beads would have gone unnoticed. How could the boy not
have said something? They must have been painful.
“Jesus,” Axel breathed out.
Riku nodded and laid the beads aside. The boy collapsed on the bed, his muscles
soft and pliant, and Riku took this opportunity to finish his checkup. He
pushed one lubricated finger into the boy’s small body and a yelp of animal
pain escaped the poor boy. He tensed again, but didn’t struggle.
The doctor wanted to be quick, but that would only cause further pain. He
waited as long as he dared for the boy’s muscles to adjust to the intrusion
before adding another finger. God, for how much he had been used and the size
of the beads that Riku had just removed, the boy’s body was still so tight.
Riku could feel the heat of him even thought his gloves.
Riku curled his fingers to check the boy’s prostate, but it felt fine if not
overly sensitive. Then, he withdrew his fingers and gently slid the cool metal
speculum into the boy’s tight heat. He whimpered and goose bumps broke out all
over his body. Riku swabbed a sample so he could check for blood, dangerous
bacteria, and anything else abnormal. When he finished, he stripped off his
gloves and put his tools aside. Then, he gently pulled the boy’s boxers back up
and stepped away.
“I’m done, Axel. Let him go,” Riku said.
Surprisingly, the boy didn’t attempt to flee again. Instead, he drew his legs
tightly against his chest and sobbed into them. Shirtless and scarred, he
looked like a shattered porcelain doll lying in pieces against the dark
bedspread.
“God, I feel sick,” Axel whispered as he stared down at the boy.
“Sit down and put your head between your knees,” Riku said and patted the back
of Axel’s head when his friend slumped down against the side of the bed. “It
was necessary. If he has an infection or a perforated colon, we’ll need to
treat it as soon as possible.”
“I know, but still…”
“Don’t think about it, Axel,” Riku said firmly in a tone of voice that spoke
volumes with its silence.
Silence spread through the bedroom that had once been Cloud’s. The boy remained
lying on the bed, but his tears began to dry.
Abruptly, Riku’s beeper went off. “I’ve got to go,” he said as he looked at the
readout. “Aqua is pregnant. She just went into labor and the midwife can’t get
out of her house because of the snow. I’m all that’s left. I’ll call you later,
Axel.” Then, he gathered up all his supplies and hurried away. Axel heard the
front door slam downstairs as Riku hustled back into the biting cold of the
winter day.
Axel remained on the floor and watched the string of beads that had been
removed from the boy’s body out of the corner of his eye. God… He had been
sexually active since the age of ten, at least. What kind of horrors had
happened to him? What kind of person would have left such large objects inside
his tiny fragile body?
Axel stayed seated on the floor for a long time with his heart aching until he
finally found the will to get up. He gently placed the blanket back over the
poor boy’s half-naked body and wrapped him up as tenderly as he dared. Bruises
were already forming over bruises on his wrists where Axel had held him down.
“I’m so sorry,” Axel whispered.
The boy didn’t answer. He just lay on the bed with his beautiful blue eyes far-
seeing and distant. His lips moved softly, but no sound escaped. Outside, the
day was bright if not cold. Christmas drew closer and cast the illusion that
everything was fine even when it wasn’t.
                                     X X X
I want to thank everyone who’s been reviewing. You really keep me going! Kudos!
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** He's Broken. Hallelujah. *****
I do not own “Broken Hallelujah” by Rufus Wainwright. It was the inspiration
for this story! (Aside from the doctor scene that is.) I found a great video
for the song, but it’s put to Final Fantasy rather than Kingdom Hearts. If you
want to check it out, here’s the link and you know the drill: http: //www.
youtube. com/
watch?v=3Ln_SLXtwRM&list=LL9f5rJcBxVao8w9eYJZvgNQ&index=2&feature=plpp_video
                                     X X X
In an attempt to make up for the horrible checkup the poor boy had gone through
earlier in the day, Axel had a beautiful light meal prepared for the boy and
carried it upstairs himself at lunch time. The silver tray was laden with ripe
fruits, some warm soup, a cup of hot tea sweetened with honey, a glass of
water, and even a piece of chocolate. It was probably the most his starved
stomach could handle otherwise Axel would have brought him steak and lobster.
Axel knocked lightly on the door before sliding back the exterior lock and
entering. The bed was empty and the string of beads had been kicked away into
the corner of the room. (Axel hadn’t been able to find the strength to take
them with him when he left earlier.) Axel scanned the room slowly and finally
laid eyes on the poor boy.
He had put his shirt back on and wrapped himself up in a cocoon in the corner
of the room like a frightened puppy. The rumpled bed where he had received his
terrible checkup had been remade and smoothed out perfectly. Axel didn’t want
to think about why the boy hadn’t remained on the comfortable bed or at least
taken the blankets or pillows from it. The boy’s blue eyes watched Axel from
beneath the hood of the blanket, bright in the dimness.
Axel’s mouth went dry as he forced his legs to move towards the bed rather than
the boy. It was unfortunate that Axel didn’t have more self-control and he
tried to pull himself together. He had never felt this way about Cloud even at
the best of times. Cloud was handsome, but he wasn’t beautiful and he left some
personality to be desired.
The boy was so beautiful even beneath all the hideous bruises, painful-looking
scars, and raw jagged wounds. His golden hair and beautiful cerulean eyes were
so haunting and lovely that Axel wanted to feather kisses all over his exposed
flesh. Even despite knowing that this poor boy had been raped only five days
ago and a string of beads had only recently been removed from his body, Axel
was still drawn to him.
He wanted to lay the boy down on the silk sheets of his bed, kiss every inch of
his soft tattered skin, suck him into beautiful pleasure until he came, and
then fill him. He wanted to fill every empty inch of him to the brim, to feel
that warm tight heat clenching around him, to fill the boy with the essence of
himself. Despite the boy being a mute, he still wanted to hear the boy
screaming his name in pleasure. It would be like a song from the lips of an
angel.
Axel pushed the images of the boy’s body and the thoughts of Cloud away with a
lot of internal hand-waving and reminders of granny-panties.
The kid was terrified. He wasn’t even close to being ready for any kind of
touch, nonetheless sex. If Axel tried to touch him now, he would be no better
than the bastards that had started raping the boy when he was ten.
“Listen, I’m sorry,” Axel murmured and set the tray down on the nightstand. “If
I had known it was going to be that bad, I would have waited a little more
until you weren’t so scared, but at least we go those beads out of you, huh?”
The boy watched him warily and his blue eyes brightened with fear when Axel
mentioned the beads.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Axel said gently. He came to crouch before the boy
and reached out to touch his face, but the boy turned sharply away. He hid
within the shelter of his cocoon and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Really,” Axel continued, but he sighed heavily when the boy didn’t even open
his eyes. What could he do to prove that he wasn’t out to hurt the kid?
Axel was quiet for a long moment, thinking. Then, he snapped his fingers,
dashed out of the room, and returned with a small CD player. “Here, listen to
this,” he said eagerly. He pressed play and listened contentedly to the opening
chords of the song. If there was a song that could please God, Axel thought it
would indeed be this song. It just seemed as if the music came and went right
into Heaven’s own ear. It was as beautiful at the boy’s blue eyes.
I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
The music was immaculately soft as if it should have been played in a church or
during a funeral. The male voice was even softer, gentler, like a parent
singing a lullaby to a child. As the music played, the boy’s face softened and
he leaned forward from within the shelter of his single blanket. His pink lips
parted slightly, his tongue darted out to wet them, and his pulse hammered
urgently. Axel saw his thin throat working furiously. Was he going to try to
speak? But he was mute, right?
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
The slave’s thin damaged wrists peeked out of the cocoon as he leaned forward
to listen better. Fresh blood seeped from beneath his torn nails. The bracelets
of dark bloody bruises were like the shadows of shackles and Axel saw his own
fingerprints pressed into the darkness around those thin wrists. A little
ripple of nausea welled in his throat as he thought about how breakable those
wrists had felt in his hands.
God, this kid’s body was so thin and frail and beautiful. It was so easy to
hurt him and by the looks of his body, someone had greatly enjoyed hurting him
to the extreme. Who had hurt him so badly? And why? He was just a sweet
beautiful kid, mute and fragile and young. He listened to the song with
unrestrained emotion and his lips moved softly even though he didn’t appear to
be singing the words. Axel relaxed slightly. It looked like he would be able to
get through to the boy like this.
Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
The words seemed to strike a sudden chord in the boy. His face paled with
terror and he pressed sharply back into the wall. He bit his lower lip until
blood welled beneath his teeth. Axel’s eyes widened and he watched with growing
concern as the boy’s blue eyes grew red-rimmed and bloodshot. Tears welled up
in his eyes and swelled over his pale lashes, but didn’t fall. What was wrong
with him? Were his feelings suddenly coming to the surface or were the words of
the song itself hurting him?
There was a time you'd let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me do you?
Remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Suddenly, the boy clapped his hands over his ears and shook his head violently
from side to side. His tears overflowed and they rushed down his cheeks to drip
off his chin like falling stars. Axel would have turned off the music had he
been thinking straight, but he was just so shocked by this sudden display of
emotion in the poor boy. Even when Riku had been examining his body, he hadn’t
cried like this. The tears streamed down his face without restraint.
A small terrible cry bounced off the walls.
Had that dreadful sound come from this poor boy’s mouth? Or was there a damaged
creature living under the bed in absolute suffering? That was what it sounded
like—an inhuman tortured animal sound. It made Axel’s skin crawl with horror
and a fear he hadn’t felt since he was a child. He didn’t want to turn his head
to look, but he didn’t think he could have moved his eyes from the boy anyway.
He was frozen, stunned, watching the scene before him unfold like the lid of a
casket opening in slow motion.
Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
The boy pressed his hands down over his ears hard enough that Axel heard the
bones of his knuckles groaning in pain and the blood rushed back from the tips
of his fingers. His face was chalk-pale, sweat stood out on his brow, and that
sick little animal sound escaped his lips again. There was no way a sound like
that could come from a human child. It was a nightmare noise.
The boy put his head between his knees and squeezed them over his hands, but he
wasn’t able to block out the sound that was troubling him. Was it the sound of
the song or the lyrics? Or was it something Axel could never hope to
understand? Then, like someone insane, the boy began to rock himself as he
sobbed.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Drawn out to match the soft music, the final sounds of the soft praising word
ended and were echoed by the youth’s desperate little animal cries. Then, the
song ended and the CD moved on to the next track—something loud and fast-paced.
It jolted Axel right out of his skin though the kid didn’t hear the track
change through his knees and hands. What was that? What had happened? What kind
of repressed issue had that song drawn out of the beautiful slave?
Axel shut off the CD player with shaking hands. “W-what was that?” he breathed
out.
The boy hugged himself tightly as if his thin arms could protect him from
whatever horrors waited. After a moment, he opened his eyes and looked up. When
he saw Axel, burning fear flashed through his gaze and he dug his ragged
fingernails into the flesh of his forearm. He clawed and tore at his skin until
bright crimson blood flowed. Even when the blood began to drip onto the floor,
he didn’t stop. He continued to rip and scrape as his skin as if he thought
there was something inside him that he needed to destroy.
Axel grabbed his wrist. “Stop! What are you doing?”
The boy’s head snapped up and those bright blue eyes of his met Axel’s green
ones. Again, he stared at if captivated and then his mouth fell open but no
sound came out.
Axel pulled the boy into his arms, shushed him gently, and rubbed his back.
“Jesus, what did they do to you?” he whispered as the boy trembled against him.
He felt the boy’s lips quivering against his bare throat and could feel the
fresh blood dripping through his fingers where they pressed over the wound
tightly. The scent of blood hung in the air like sick perfume. The boy was so
thin in his arms. It was as if he was merely a wisp of folded paper.
Axel rubbed the kid’s back, whispering aimless words of comfort. “Calm down,
kid, just relax. I’m not going to hurt you. Just relax. Breathe…”
Nothing calmed the boy. He continued to hyperventilate and tremble in Axel’s
arms.
Then, Axel heard a voice in the room. It was as low as a whisper yet somehow
echoed against the walls and sent a shiver down Axel’s spine. He tightened his
arms around the boy and looked around for whoever could have spoken, but they
were alone in the room. Even the day outside the window was still and quiet.
“He’s broken. Hallelujah,” the voice whispered. It was cold and cruel.
The boy’s fingers dug into Axel’s flesh and he whimpered.
“He’s broken. Hallelujah,” the voice said again.
“What was that?” Axel asked.
No one answered him.
The boy continued to tremble in his arms. “That’s what they said to me,” he
whispered.
Axel looked at the child in his arms. “You can speak?”
“That’s what they said to me… He’s broken. Hallelujah.” The boy’s voice was raw
and pained, small and thin. It was very different from the terrible voice that
had filled the room earlier, yet when he repeated those words, it was in
exactly the same voice.
“Mimicry?” Axel whispered more to himself than the boy.
“That’s what they said… that’s what they always said…” Then, the boy tried to
rake his nails into the flesh of his arm again and Axel pinned his hands.
“Stop that! Why are you doing that to yourself?”
“That’s what they said…”
Axel pressed the boy’s beautiful face into his shoulder, stroked the flaxen
hairs at the nape of his neck gently, and shushed him. He cradled the poor boy
tightly against his broad chest and wrapped him gently in the blanket again.
Eventually, the boy’s body grew heavy and warm in Axel’s arms and he stopped
whispering darkly to himself. It was as if he had slipped into another world—a
terrible nightmare realm all his own. Silently and finally, he slipped into
unconsciousness and Axel wondered, “What the hell was that?”
                                     X X X
See, there’s the reason for my title. There’s always a reason. You just have to
wait for it.
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review for more! (Or I won't bother to continue this story.)
***** What's in a Name? *****
Holy long chapter, Batman!
                                     X X X
The boy’s eyes opened to the sound of running water with the tune of a half-
remembered song playing in his head. His new master had placed him on the bed
and the soft mattress was like heaven even as it was more like hell. On the
nightstand beside the bed, there was silver tray laid out with brightly-colored
fruits, a glass of clear water, a bowl of something, and a mug of something.
Everything looked cold—as if it had been sitting there a while. He sat up, the
blanket slipped from his shoulders, and he clutched it tightly to his chest. He
was still dressed, but there was the sound of running water so he knew he
wouldn’t be keeping his clothing for long.
But… what had happened?
The last thing he remembered was his new master bringing in a CD player and
hearing someone singing. Then, there was nothing but a black wall of fear and
pain. He looked down at his arm and traced his fingers along the fresh bandages
that circled his forearm.
Had he done that to himself or had his new master already torn into his body
like a present?
The boy put his cold feet on the floor and padded over the partially-opened
bathroom door. Inside, the redhead who had bought him was leaning over the
porcelain tub with his fingers dipped in the water to test the temperature.
Then, he added some bubble bath and stepped back with a content sigh. He wiped
his forehead with the back of his hand and turned to glance at the door. The
boy darted backwards, practically falling over himself in his haste, but it was
already too late.
The man had seen him!
A cry caught in his throat, the boy stumbled back as the door opened fully. He
tripped, fell, and crawled away in a hurry. Blinding terror filled him. He was
halfway under the bed when the man’s hand closed around his ankle and pulled
him out from beneath the heavy furniture. His nails raked into the floorboards.
Jerked from beneath the bed, the boy rolled over onto his back, kicked out
wildly, and flailed desperately. For a moment, he heard a strange sound and
couldn’t identify it. Then, he realized it was his own voice screaming. How
long had it been since he had last heard his own voice?
“Whoa, whoa, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. Stop, stop!” the redheaded
man shouted.
This new master… He had such bright green eyes, cat-like, gleaming. The boy
felt as if those eyes knew everything about him—those eyes could see into his
soul, into his broken body, into everything he didn’t want to remember—and his
hair was like burning flames. The glow of this man’s eyes and the flames of his
hair would devour and destroy all that was left of the boy. He felt that in the
dregs of his very soul.
The man caught him in his arms and pulled his small frame flush against his
broad chest. “Calm down. Calm down… Relax. I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”
The boy shook his head desperately and weakly fought the embrace.
The man stroked his back and shushed lightly.
Despite himself, the boy felt his body begin to relax. How long had it been
since he had been warm like this or held so gently like this?
He fought to remember. It had been only five days since he had last been
raped—he remembered telling the silver-haired doctor that. After he had been
used, he had been permitted to remain in the bed with the merchant who still
filled him from behind. The bed had been warm and soft, but the merchant
eventually tired of feeling the press of the boy’s body and threw him onto the
cold floor. The boy had slept there as best he could, naked and freezing on the
cold concrete. Something horrible always seemed to come after the smallest of
amenities.
The boy began to tremble again.
“Shh,” the redhead whispered. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”
The boy squeezed his eyes shut and silently begged his new master to stop
telling those pretty lies. He wanted to believe, but he knew it was a lie—a
cruel, cruel lie. When this man tore his body open like a birthday present it
would be even more horrible. He had trusted before and only been slaughtered
inside.
“I know you’re not mute,” the man whispered into his hair and stroked his
fingers lightly against the nape of his neck. “Talk to me, please.”
The boy tensed and trembled. Biting his lip with fear, he shook his head.
“Why won’t you speak?”
He flinched, expecting to be struck at any moment. Now that the man knew he
wasn’t mute, the punishment was sure to follow.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Please, talk to me.”
He shuddered in the man’s arms and his eyes sought out an escape.
“My name is Axel. Won’t you tell me your name?”
The man’s voice was soft, sad, and sounded honest, but still the boy shook his
head.
“Alright,” Axel sighed. “I drew you a bath with some herbs in it to help you
heal. Come on.”
The boy allowed himself to be led into the bathroom and the man gestured for
him to sit down on the vanity. The tile was cold beneath his thighs and he
shivered as he raked his fingers over the cool surface. He could see the edge
of his reflection in the mirror and hardly dared believe that creature
reflected there was really him.
“Take your shirt off please,” the red-haired man asked gently.
This time, the boy didn’t fight him. He knew it was a battle he would lose and
he didn’t want to be hurt further. Instead, he lifted his arms willingly and
closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the look on his new master’s face as his
naked skin was exposed. Would he look hungrily at his body or would there be
glee at the thought of hurting him? The boy didn’t realize he was crying until
he felt the light touch of his new master’s thumbs on his cheeks.
His eyes snapped open as Axel gently wiped the tears away without speaking.
Timidly, the boy stepped down from the vanity and let his master lower the
borrowed boxers. He stood as still as possible, shivering and naked. He didn’t
know what would happen next and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. His heart
beat out a wild tattoo against the cage of his ribs.
“I’m sorry about the checkup,” Axel whispered. “I really am.”
He tried to touch the boy’s face, but he pulled sharply away, shuddering.
“Okay, you don’t like to be touched. I’ll tell you what,” Axel held up his
hands, “I’ll make you a deal. I won’t touch you if you just tell me your name.”
The boy didn’t respond. He merely stood, bare and vulnerable before the acid-
green gaze of his new master. A deal like that was too good to be true and he
wouldn’t risk believing something like that only to be broken later.
“Okay. Just think about it,” Axel said.
He gestured for the boy to get into the tub and he timidly did. Would the water
be scalding or frigid? Instead, the water was perfectly warm and enveloped his
injuries gently. It washed over him like a comforting blanket and chased the
chill from his bones. Axel perched on the rim of the tub and watched the kid
sink deeper and deeper into the water. Undisguised bliss showed on the boy’s
pale face, replacing the fear and pain, and Axel smiled thinly.
How could something so small bring the boy such pleasure? When was the last
time he had been able to take a warm bath or even a bath at all?
“Don’t drown. Just soak a while,” Axel said gently and with that, he left the
boy alone in the bathroom. The door clicked closed softly.
Shocked that he hadn’t been forced over the tub to be taken or viciously
punched, the boy slid deeper into the precious water. He kept his nose and eyes
above the water and watched the bathroom door for a longer moment, but it
remained closed. Finally, he sank in completely and let the warm water wash
over his head. He opened his eyes underwater and gazed up at the ceiling. God,
he wished he could stay like this forever, to let the warm water fill his every
orifice and take him away.
Was that what he wanted? To die? No… yes… sometimes… most of the time…
The boy broke the surface, gasping for breath. He drew his legs up against his
chest, wrapped his arms around them, and buried his face in his knees. God, he
felt as if his bones were hurting his skin. He felt paper-thin and so broken.
He wished he could wonder where the injuries had come from, but he remembered
them all very clearly. He remembered every single bad thing that had ever
happened to him perfectly. It was all crystal clear!
The boy choked back those memories and forced himself to enjoy the delight of a
warm bath. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the bathroom door
slowly eased open. His new master—owner, the redhead, Axel, whoever he was—came
in with an armload of fluffy white towels.
“Do you feel any better?” he asked softly.
The boy turned his face away.
“Come on out of the tub,” Axel said and held up a towel.
The boy didn’t move.
Axel sighed, pulled the drain, and sat on the edge of the vanity while the
water drained. Even when the tub was empty, the boy still didn’t get out. He
just sat there naked and shivering. Axel wrapped him in a towel, scooped him
out of the tub, and sat him on the counter.
“What is up with you? Won’t you tell me at least your name? Come on. You told
me how old you were. Fifteen, see I even remember.”
The boy spared him a swift glance, but still didn’t speak.
“Well, why would you tell me how old you were if you won’t even tell me your
name? Do you want me to tell you something about myself? I’m twenty-two.
There’s a seven year difference between us,” Axel continued.
The boy looked away and inhaled sharply.
Axel put a towel over the boy’s head and dried his golden hair a little. “What
did you think telling me your age was going to get you that telling me your
name won’t?”
The boy wet his lips.
Axel waited patiently and lightly fluffed the silky blonde tresses until the
boy found the courage to speak.
Then, suddenly, the kid shook his head and put his hand over his mouth. His
blue eyes stared into Axel’s face, wide and tragic. He looked as if he
desperately wanted to speak, but something was holding him back. The pulse in
his thin throat hammered.
Axel pulled the boy’s hand down gently, held it tenderly in his own, and
brushed his fingers lightly across the boy’s knuckles. “What did you think
would happen?”
His lips parted and a small little animal sound came out, half a whimper and
half a cry. Tears rolled down his face.
Axel hushed him and wiped the tears with a corner of the towel. “Just tell me.”
“Y… you t-thought I was… tw-twelve…” he whispered. His voice cracked and
sounded incredibly unnatural. How long had it been since the kid had spoken
last?
“And you didn’t like that?” Axel asked gently.
The boy trembled and shook his head.
“Why is that?” Axel asked.
“Y-you must… like the little boys…”
Axel’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” he breathed.
“You thought… that I was twelve… you must like the l-little b-boys. I thought
that if you knew… if y-you k-knew that I was older… you might not… might not…”
Axel didn’t like where this was going one bit. His mind flashed back to the
things Riku had asked the boy. He had been sexually active for the past five
years at least before Axel stopped Riku from asking any more. This boy would
have been ten then… only ten… and Axel had stopped him before they found out
how long it had really been.
“What?” Axel choked out.
“If you knew that I was… fifteen, you might not… might not like me. You might
not… fuck me…”
The single profane word coming out of this poor kid’s mouth was the hardest
thing for Axel to hear. It astounded him and stole the breath right out of his
lungs. He stared at the boy and Axel’s knuckles whitened in the towel as his
hands rolled into fists. The boy pressed his face into his hands and cowered
away. Axel wanted to curse, to scream and shout and throw things, but he didn’t
want to scare the boy more than he already had. He was terrified, but he had
good reason to be.
“God damn it,” Axel whispered.
The boy whimpered and flinched away.
“And you think I wanted you to…?”
But what else could the kid think? Axel had bought him based on the beauty in
his face alone, without thinking with his ‘big head,’ and then Riku’s checkup
had probably only cemented the boy’s fears. If he took a step back and looked
at the situation in the light of day, it did seem as if Axel had only purchased
him as a sex toy and only because he was young and beautiful.
“Shit,” he whispered.
The boy hugged himself tightly and shivered within the shelter of the towels.
Axel wanted to reach out to touch him, but his hands trembled. “I,” he began.
What could he say? What were the chances that this kid was going to believe
anything he said? This boy was finished listening to anything anyone told him.
He had probably been told nothing but lies all his life. Finally, Axel
whispered, “What’s your name?”
The boy shivered. “If… if I tell you, what will… w-what will you… do to me?”
“Nothing,” Axel whispered. “I just want to know.”
The boy shook his head. “They like my name…”
“They?” Axel repeated. The boy had mentioned an unknown tormenter before in
some sort of catatonic trance when Axel had played the song. ‘That’s what they
said to me… He’s broken. Hallelujah.’
The boy shuddered and his teeth chattered.
Axel wrapped another towel around his shoulders and waited.
“O-once they knew my name, t-they only… they fucked me hard…”
Again, that word. It was like an ice pick into Axel’s heart. “Please,” he
began, “I won’t—”
The boy’s abyssal eyes flashed, daring him to say that, daring him to lie like
everyone else. Then, terrified, he looked away again.
“Please, just… just tell me…” Axel murmured.
He shook his head. “You’ll fuck me.”
Axel’s heart swelled and then a little bubble of anger took him. “I don’t need
your name to be able to take you, kid. Just tell me!” He grasped his shoulders
tightly and started to shake him. The boy cried out softly and Axel’s immediate
thought was that he was going to break this boy’s bones. His thin shoulders
felt like the skulls of birds. “God…”
The boy’s blue eyes swelled with tears and he looked up into Axel’s face in
terror. “Are you… are you going to fuck me?” He didn’t let Axel answer and
continued as if his voice was going to run out. “If you do… fuck me… please,
please, please, be gentle… it hurts still, please…” Then, he bit his lip and
looked away. “You saw… what they put inside me…” He trembled as if his body was
going to break apart.
“God, I’m not going to—”
Again, those eyes went like daggers into Axel’s soul.
Axel slid to his knees in front of the kid—not to beg, simply because his legs
could suddenly no longer support him. The boy was still seated on the vanity
and Axel’s body was long and tall enough to still be grasping his shoulders.
The boy stared down at the top of his new master’s head, shivering and
clenching his teeth so they wouldn’t chatter. His master’s hands slid down his
chest and drew a shudder of revulsion and terror from him. Those large hands
gripped his narrow thighs and it was clear how easy it would be for his new
master to spread his legs and push into him. God, was his body that small?
Axel’s forehead rested on his bare knee and his flaming hair softly tickled the
naked flesh there.
When he exhaled warm breath against his skin, the boy trembled. “Please, don’t
fuck me…”
Axel didn’t respond and didn’t deny it. He just remained kneeling there without
moving or making a move to advance his actions. His hands rested on the boy’s
towel-covered thighs, but his grip was lax. He didn’t move to spread the boy’s
legs and force his way into his body. If anything his hands slid downwards
gently in a caress, but that was almost just as bad. Every move he made felt
wrong.
It had never been this way with Cloud. Axel had bedded Cloud the very night he
bought him, but Cloud’s body was bigger and stronger. Cloud was always ready
for him and seemed to thrive on rough treatment. Axel would never dare do that
to this boy’s small body—never.
The moment passed slowly and Axel didn’t move. Finally, the boy let out a
shuddering breath.
Axel didn’t move his hands save a small soothing brushing of his thumbs back
and forth across the material of the towel. He felt the boy’s muscles trembling
beneath his touch and goose bumps followed in the wake of that caress. There
was no sound in the bathroom save Axel’s breathing and the boy’s soft
shuddering sounds. Not even the faucet dared to drip.
Finally, Axel leaned back just enough to look up into the boy’s face and met
those beautiful blue eyes. Captivated, the boy didn’t break their gaze even as
Axel’s hands lifted from his thighs to gently cup his face. His hands were like
butterflies, flitting, afraid to touch down. He didn’t want to touch this boy
and scare him.
“You won’t…?” the boy whispered without breaking his gaze from Axel’s.
Axel gently touched the side of his throat and felt that hammering pulse. The
kid’s heartbeat was fast and heavy, like that of a mouse, swift enough to be
practically humming. Axel could feel the terror in the pulse of his blood and
his heart through his body. This kid really did expect Axel to take him, to
hurt him, to do terrible things to him, but why shouldn’t he? All his life, he
had probably only ever been hurt. Had he ever felt a kind touch? Axel felt as
if he had sand in his throat and in his chest making it difficult to swallow.
Axel brushed his thumbs over the boy’s cheeks, but he turned his face away to
dislodge the touch.
The boy would not allow himself to be swayed by a gentle touch no matter how
badly he wanted it. He had to know. He had to make his new master look him in
the eyes and promise that he wouldn’t be violated and beaten if he told him his
name. “Will you…?” he insisted even though he wouldn’t believe the words.
Axel pulled back his hands and folded them in his lap. He didn’t try to touch
the boy again. He just waited, kneeling there while the cold of the tile seeped
into his body.
The boy was still trembling and water was dripping off his feet. God, there
were even scars on his feet and his ankles were circled with horrible bruises.
Every inch of him had been brutally abused, tortured, and touched. He probably
didn’t feel safe in his own body any longer. Someone had marked every inch of
his skin and his very life was no longer his.
Silence stretched between them.
Axel had never once knelt in his life. If he ever did, he expected it to have
gotten him something, even if he didn’t beg. But this had earned him nothing
except an aching place in his heart for this poor boy. He still knew nothing
more than the boy’s age, that he was blonde with blue eyes, and that ‘they’ had
done terrible things to him. He closed his green eyes with a heavy sigh. Axel
was just about to give up, get back to his feet, and dust off his pride when
the boy spoke.
“Roxas… my name is… Roxas…”
                                     X X X
I think this chapter came out so emotional. I’m a little proud. There we go!
It’s the revelation of Roxas’s name even though I am quite aware that I was
fooling no one. I hate that one thing about writing FanFiction. Everyone always
knows whom you’re talking about.
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Rights and Privileges *****
Waah, I have such a headache.
                                     X X X
The fifteen-year-old child had folded his hands tightly together in his lap
with his small fingers interlaced. His beautiful cerulean ocean-blue eyes were
downcast, shadowed darkly by his long lashes and sunken in his face from
malnourishment. His golden blonde hair was hanging damp and stringy around his
gaunt cheeks with his bangs casting shadows that looked like ragged bruises.
Swathed in white cotton towels, naked and scarred beneath them, he was
shivering. His small white teeth dug into his lower lip as he watched Axel
closely with those iridescent eyes. He looked beautiful and small and frail and
so unbelievably hurt, but he was a slave, a tortured little animalistic
creature. He was waiting for the moment when the horrible thing he expected to
happen finally occurred.
“Roxas?” Axel repeated and he smiled faintly. He reached out to touch the boy’s
pale cheek, but when Roxas flinched away, he let his hand drop. “That’s a
lovely name. It really fits you.”
Roxas wet his lips, but didn’t speak.
“Are you hungry?” Axel asked in hopes of breaking the ice that settled between
them.
He looked away and said quickly, “No.”
Axel lifted his brow. “And you’re lying to me, why?”
Roxas shuddered and bit his lower lip. “I have to.”
“Why?”
He hesitated and shook his head. “I don’t know…”
Axel pulled the towel off his head and the dry blonde tresses stuck up wildly.
“Well, you don’t have to do that. Just tell me the truth,” Axel urged him. “So,
are you hungry, Roxas?”
Again, Roxas hesitated and his fingers curled into small fists against the
towel. Then, softly and timidly, he admitted, “Yes.”
Axel squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him lightly. “Let’s get you something
to eat then,” he said. He handed the boy the clothes he had stripped from him
earlier and left the bathroom so Roxas could dress in peace, but Axel heard a
soft whimper and turned to make sure Roxas wasn’t crying or hurt. He could just
see Roxas through a small crack between the door and the jamb and for a moment,
Axel watched.
Roxas stepped down from the vanity, hugged the towels around his naked body for
a small moment, and then let them drop. His skin was milk-pale where there
happened to be no bruises or scars, but those places were few and far between.
His back was nothing but the knobby column of his spine and the sinuous curves
of his ribcage, crooked and broken in many places, and scars… there were so
many scars. The jagged lash of a whip criss-crossed most of his back and even
the backs of his thighs. In the mirror’s reflection, Axel could see his chest,
too. Someone had been using Roxas’s torso and arms as their personal ashtray.
Axel counted more than a dozen small burns along with slashing scars, but most
of the bruises marked his pale hips. This boy was thin—he was so goddamn thin.
What kind of monster capable of doing this to another human being?
Axel wasn’t above giving one of his slaves a slap or a light whipping if they
were out of line—as Cloud had learned for being almost constantly out of
line—but he never let his punishments go too far. The moment his slave asked
for mercy and begged him to stop, he would and then he immediately tended their
wounds. However, Axel never denied his slaves food or water and Roxas looked
like he had been starved within an inch of his life. Sure, Axel believed that
children who were picky eaters shouldn’t have exactly what they wanted put on
their plates—kids had to eat their vegetables—and when they get hungry enough,
they’d eat whatever’s there, but Roxas didn’t look like he had been given that
option. Axel vowed to feed this kid until he couldn’t eat another bite.
The bathroom door opened the rest of the way and Roxas emerged in a waft of
scented steam. In the t-shirt and boxers, he looked like a skeletal ghost and
he was still shivering. Axel took a thick terrycloth robe from the closet and
wrapped the boy’s scrawny body in it.
“Are you alright?” Axel asked him.
Roxas nodded.
“I am sorry about the checkup.”
He looked away. “I know… you have to be sure that I’m… clean before you… fuck
me.”
Axel bit his lip. “That wasn’t the reason, Roxas.”
The boy shuddered.
“Are you still cold?”
Roxas hesitated.
“Tell the truth,” Axel encouraged. “I can get you another jacket. It’s not like
you have any body fat to keep you warm.”
“No, I’m not,” he admitted.
“Then why are you shivering, Roxas?”
“It’s… it’s been a long time…”
Axel wrinkled his brow. “Since what?”
“Since…” Roxas looked down at his hands and his wrists that were circled with
bruises. “Since someone’s been gentle with me.”
Axel’s heart lurched painfully in his chest. He wanted badly to take Roxas into
his arms and hold him and just let him feel something other than pain, but
Roxas must have felt Axel’s sad eyes on his body and sensed his intentions
because he moved away. He kept his eyes on the floor.
Without touching or looking at him, Axel led Roxas down the hall to the dining
room and adjoining kitchen. “What would you like to eat? I’ll have Chives make
you anything you want,” he offered.
Roxas’s blue eyes took in the tinkling crystal chandelier overhead, then the
glossy mahogany table set with one placement, and returned to Axel’s green
eyes. He looked incredibly confused, his eyes so wide and red-rimmed, and a
little bit afraid.
“What is it?” Axel asked.
“What do you mean?” he whispered.
“I mean, what do you want for dinner? You can have anything you want.”
Roxas continued to stare at him, uncomprehending.
“Come on, Roxas. You know what food is,” Axel said with a joking grin. “Don’t
mess with me.”
“You mean… I can have something to eat that’s not… out of the garbage…?”
“Of course. Garbage is garbage for a reason…” he trailed off as the words sunk
into his brain. He looked back at Roxas and whispered, “What?”
Roxas looked away. “It’s nothing,” he whispered.
“You’ve been eating out of the garbage?”
Slowly, he nodded.
“When was your last good meal?”
“In the slave shop, I found half a sandwich in the…” he trailed off because
Axel was shaking his head.
“No, when was your last good on a plate meal?” Axel asked.
Roxas shook his head.
“You can’t even remember?”
He nodded and nervously tucked his fingers through his pale hair.
Abruptly, Axel moved. Roxas flinched back immediately and pain speared through
his entire body like acid, but he needn’t have feared. Axel only pulled out a
chair from the dining room table and put his head between his knees, breathing
deeply to settle his stomach. This was just plain sickening. He groaned,
digging his fingers through his fiery hair and pulling hard until his pounding
heart stopped beating against his ribs like a jackhammer.
“Roxas,” he murmured.
“Y-yes?” the boy whispered and Axel saw him take a small step back from the
corner of his eye.
“You’ll never have to eat out of the garbage here,” Axel said softly. “This I
promise you.”
Roxas didn’t respond.
Chives entered the dining room like a patient ghost, looking as remarkably
pressed and fit as usual. “Young master, what would you like for dinner? Oh, I
didn’t realize your new pet would be coming down for supper. I will set another
plate straight away,” the butler said.
“Is the vegetable and beef soup I asked you to prepare ready yet, Chives?”
“More than ready, sir. It has been simmering for about an hour,” Chives told
Axel. “Will you be having that for supper?”
“Yeah,” Axel continued. “Two bowls with some of those oyster crackers and some
milk to drink.”
“Right away, sir,” Chives said with an inclination of his head and hustled off
to do as he was told.
Axel leaned his forehead on the table and focused on breathing lightly. A few
minutes later, Chives returned and set the bowl of soup down in front of him
after shuffling the place setting and adding another. Axel sat up, peered into
the bowl, and then looked expectantly at the steaming bowl across from him.
Roxas wasn’t there. Axel turned around and found the boy sitting on the floor
just beside his chair with his small shaking hands folded together neatly in
his lap.
“Roxas?” Axel asked.
The boy looked up with those eyes of deep ocean blue and did not speak.
“Why aren’t you sitting at the table?” Axel continued.
Roxas angled his head lightly so that his pale hair slid down his cheek like a
caress. It drew attention to a light bruise at the corner of his jaw.
Axel wet his lips and fought back the urge to brush Roxas’s hair back from the
injury. “You’re supposed to,” he said instead. “Come and eat, Roxas.”
The boy circled the table, timidly pulled back the chair, and sat down across
from Axel. Then, he stared at the steaming bowl of soup and Axel saw his thin
throat working furiously. He licked his lips hungrily, but he still didn’t make
a single move to pick up his spoon, even when Axel dropped his on the tabletop
and purposefully picked it up while Roxas was watching.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Axel asked him as he dropped several oyster crackers into
his soup.
“Yes,” Roxas whispered and his voice cracked like ice when liquor poured over
it.
“Then why aren’t you eating?” Axel asked softly, already dreading the answer.
“I was… waiting for permission…”
Axel nearly choked on his spoon and quickly assured the boy, “You don’t need my
permission to eat.”
Timidly, Roxas picked up the spoon and examined it. “Why not?”
“Because you don’t. Eating is a right, not a privilege.”
“No, it’s not,” the boy murmured so quietly that Axel could hardly hear him,
“Just like breathing.” Then, he put a spoonful of soup into his mouth and
didn’t lift his gaze from the bowl until it was empty.
Axel couldn’t even find his voice to respond to that. His spoon clattered from
his hand and splashed down into the bowl of soup. What had this poor kid gone
through? What hell had he survived, even just barely? It was terrible, truly
terrible…
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
Like? Dislike?
There were hardly any reviews for the last chapter (but tons of views) so I
guess this story is crap that should be discontinued. Right?
***** A Cry in the Night: Pt I *****
Phew, I’m making such progress editing this monstrosity!
                                     X X X
After Axel walked Roxas to the room that had once been Cloud’s and locked the
door from the outside, he called his best friend. (Riku was a great guy and
all, but sometimes a guy just needed a girl. They looked at things from a
different perspective from men.) When Xion answered blearily with her voice
positively oozing sleep, he realized just how late it had gotten. Axel hadn’t
noticed how much time had passed while he was dealing with Roxas, but it had to
be nearly midnight.
“Oh, Xion, I’m sorry,” Axel said. “I didn't realize how late it was. I’ll let
you go.”
“No, no. I’m already awake so you might as well tell me what’s up,” she said
with a stifled yawn. He heard the blankets on her bed shuffling as she sat up
and turned on the light. Xion had this thing about being in the dark and she
was bothered by silence too but Axel chocked that up to her being from such a
massive and noisy family. “So, Axel, what’s up?”
“You remember that Cloud escaped, right?” he began.
“You called and told me that at a ridiculous hour, too,” Xion said with a sigh.
“Well, I went to the Puppy Mill and bought a new slave.”
“Uh-huh,” she remarked and he could already imagine her waving her hand in a
‘continue’ gesture. He momentarily wondered what outrageous color she had
painted her nails before shaking himself back onto the topic.
“He’s just a kid,” Axel told her. “He’s fifteen.”
“Are you a pedophile now, Axel?”
“No,” Axel told her. “I was drawn to him.”
“Does he look like Cloud? Are you looking for a scapegoat to beat the shit out
of because of what Cloud did?”
“No,” Axel told her firmly and put that comment aside. Xion always got snarky
when she was tired. “He does look like Cloud, but that’s not all. He’s so
beautiful.”
“Beautiful how?” Xion asked.
“Blonde hair and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen,” Axel explained. “He’s so
small and frail and…”
“And what? Have you boffed his brains out?” Xion asked with a yawn. “Do you not
know what to do now? Pillow talk is always nice. I could use a good cuddling
myself.”
“No, Xion, I haven’t. I can’t,” Axel said with a roll of his eyes. “I had Riku
come over to give him a checkup because there are the worst scars all over his
body and he’s been starved so badly. During the checkup, Riku…” Axel fell quiet
for a moment, but Xion didn’t ask him what he meant to say. “Then, he asked him
the standard questions—how long he had been sexually active and such.”
“And…?” Xion asked when Axel didn’t continue.
“Well…” Axel continued to hesitate.
“Spit it out, Axel. It’s late and I’m tired.”
“Riku got to five years before I stopped him,” Axel forced out.
Xion sucked in a sharp breath and all the sleep left her voice. “And you said
he’s fifteen?”
“And I stopped Riku from asking further,” Axel murmured. “He could have been
even younger.”
“Younger than ten!” Xion exclaimed. “Babies should still come from the great
white stork at that age!”
“I know,” Axel mumbled. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, I know how fast you jumped Cloud’s bones,” she said. “Don’t make the
same mistake again, especially with this poor kid. Give him plenty of time and
even then, you should probably understand that you might never be able to take
him willingly.”
Axel nodded against the phone and then murmured, “But I think it’s worse than
just that, Xion.”
“Worse than that? How so?”
Axel swallowed thickly and finally confessed, “When Riku came to examine him,
he checked his body pretty thoroughly and he found… There was a string of anal
beads inside his body and they were pretty big too. Only God knows how long
they had been inside this poor kid.”
Xion’s breath rattled in her lungs. “Oh hell, Axel.”
“When I tried to feed him today, he wouldn’t eat until I gave him permission
and I heard him say that breathing is a privilege.”
“That is a seriously controlling master… Next issue?”
“He’s terrified of being touched.”
“Neither of us can probably ever understand how many times he’s been raped,
Axel. If the merchant you bought him from was forcing him to wear beads and
didn’t even tell you that when you purchased him, imagine what he could have
gone through when no one was looking.”
“He wouldn’t tell me his name or his age when I brought him home. When he
finally did tell me, it was because he thought if I found out he was older than
he looked, I wouldn’t use him. He’s been taken by pedophiles, Xion, and people
like that can be so—”
“Horrible,” she finished and then stifled another yawn. “Axel, it’s late.
Unless you have some kind of crisis on your hands with this kid, can we talk
about this tomorrow? You know how it is at my house. It’s noisy at five in the
morning and I had a late shift at work last night.”
“Sure, Xion,” Axel relented. “Bye.”
“Night, Axel.”
Xion hung up sharply and Axel slipped the phone back into its cradle. For a
moment, he stood staring at it and then turned to look out the window at the
beautiful pure-white snow-covered night beyond the glass. He breathed a cloud
of steam on the window and drew a little happy sun. After looking at it for a
moment, Axel found himself tempted to add clouds so he wiped the image away and
got into his nice warm bed.
…
The two men pinned his small body down, pressed hard into the coarse straw
mattress, tangled in the filthy sheets—violated. The stink of sex, blood, and
sweat choked his parched lungs. He gasped into the pillow, unable to breathe,
and felt the stickiness of fresh semen sticking to his skin and in his hair. He
wanted to beg, to plead, but he knew it would gain him nothing. They enjoyed
hearing him beg and then they just hurt him more, harder and deeper and faster.
A small pitiful sob escaped his chapped mouth though the mattress stifled it.
A hand fisted in his hair and pulled his head sharply back. Another cry escaped
him, bouncing off the cold stone walls of the basement and echoing horribly. He
squeezed his eyes shut and tried in vain to bite back a whimper of anguish as
ragged nails scraped into his scalp. The muscles of his raw throat ached as his
head was bent farther backwards.
The burn of salty semen seared into his cuts. The words to beg almost escaped
his chapped bloody mouth. Another hand wrapped beneath his chest, stroked the
boy’s bare flesh, and teased his swollen nipples absently though it was more
pain than pleasure for him. When the hand finally found its mark between his
thin bruised thighs and squeezed, a cry of suffering escaped him.
They laughed. It sounded like a flock of cackling crows—so horrible.
He wanted to beg God. ‘Please, make them stop!’
Even so, he didn’t beg and they didn’t stop.
They never stopped until they were all finished and he was nothing but a doll,
used and discarded on the soiled mattress again.
As he had expected though he silently begged for the opposite, the hand
squeezing his soft member began to travel to the new destination. His small
hands fisted in the dirty sheets and clutched desperately to try to stop the
sounds of pain from escaping his mouth. Sounds like that only encouraged them
and they needed no encouragement. A sob escaped no matter how he tried to
stifle it and his body began to tremble and shake with cold and fear.
“He’s afraid,” one of them whispered.
“Good—” A cruel slap landed hard on his bruised and exposed buttocks. “—I like
it better that way.”
Another one of those crow-like laughs. “I know. So do I.”
He tried not to feel it, tried to separate himself from his poor body, but it
was hopeless. No matter how hard he tried to escape, this was his body and he
was trapped within it. Today, tonight, whatever hour it was in this never-
ending hell, they were planning to fuck him for a long time. He could tell
because he heard the bottle’s lid unscrew and the squelch as their fingers
dipped into it. He shuddered and his hands fisted tighter until his ragged
chewed nails bit into the soft flesh of his palms. Blood dripped between his
fingers and into the filthy sheets of the soiled mattress.
He wanted to beg again as they began to touch him, but he bit back the words.
They would never stop. They would never let him go. This… would never end! He
whimpered, pressed his body in as close as he could as if to protect the parts
of him that were most vulnerable, but it was hopeless—so hopeless. They would
fuck him, again and again and again until things that belong inside him were
torn out, and then they would still continue to fuck him. His body didn’t
matter for anything more than abuse, sex, and stress-relief.
Their touches, slick and lubricated, once again found their mark. He couldn’t
stifle the yelp of pain as first two fingers slid into his body, then a third,
and finally a fourth. For a moment, the thick girth of fingers worked in and
out of his small body, stretching him in a way he had never been prepared
before. They liked to hear him scream at the first moment of penetration,
before he was numb to the agony. The fingers curled, pressing and teasing his
soft prostate until some throes of pleasure assaulted him.
Then, the four fingers pulled… they pulled him wide open!
He couldn’t bite back the screaming and the begging now. Both exploded from him
as he desperately tried to escape them and their fingers. He only hurt himself
more, being pulled back by his abused rectum and those fingers still inside. He
begged and pleaded, screamed and sobbed, cried and whimpered, but they didn’t
care. They continued to work him farther and farther open until every inch of
the place they so liked to brutalize was open to the cold air and his bones
shivered from the chill.
Then, his small body was pinned between those two chests and though he was
grateful for the warmth, he knew something terrible was coming. What were they
going to do to him now?
“Do we have to? I love this kid,” the first man said.
“We need the money,” the second said. His lips found the boy’s throat and began
to bite and suck.
“You’re going to leave a mark.”
“What’s it matter? We’re selling him.”
“I’m so sad. This is our last time to fuck him for while.”
“We’re not fucking him. We’re readying him for auction.”
“Come on,” the first pleaded.
“No. He can’t be stuffed full of cum when he’s purchased.”
“But we can stuff him. What if we pull out?”
There was another crow-like cackle. “Let’s do it.”
Then, his poor anus was pulled open to its limits by those fingers again and
they both pushed into him, slipping and sliding against each other’s lubricated
cocks and stuffing his poor body to the brim. There was no room left for him in
his body. His ragged nails dug in, drawing blood, and a sob of agony escaped
him.
They stopped supporting his scant weight so that the only things holding him up
were the twin cocks crammed inside his body. He screamed out in pain and
someone kissed him, tongue pushing past his teeth, to shut him up. It felt like
an eternity that they both fucked him, keeping pace with each other so his body
was emptied completely and then stuffed to the brim. Then, they finished with
him and hot cum splattered all over his naked chest and back.
“Now, just like the turkey.”
He chuckled, “Let’s stuff him.”
He didn’t see it until it was already beneath him and the head pushed into his
small body. He screamed out in anguish as a thick phallus stretched him even
farther than the two cocks had. He knew what it was—it was a measured and sized
phallus to let everyone at the auction know how much he could take and to what
limits his poor body could be stretched. He had heard them talking earlier
through the basement door that they would stuff him with the largest size that
existed so they could get a higher price for him. They dug the phallus into him
deeper, like a living thing trying to burrow into his heart, and he screamed
until his throat was raw and his voice was gone.
…
Axel’s bedroom door eased open at about three a.m. A thin shadow slid across
the floor and the door closed softly. Axel wasn’t sure what woke him, but it
was either the soft padding of bare feet or the small cool hands that sudden
cupped his face or the weight of a small body coming to straddle his hips.
Blearily, he murmured, “Cloud?”
“N-no,” a small timid voice whispered.
Axel’s eyes shot open and he tried to sit up, but someone was sitting on his
chest. “Roxas?” he breathed.
The boy was sitting on top of him like a pretty gargoyle and his blue eyes
gleamed in the darkness. His abyssal gaze caught the moonlight and reflected
it. His pale moon-colored flesh shone save where dark bruises and scars
decorated his body. He was half-naked, wearing only the boxers Axel had given
him, and his naked chest shuddered with the effort it took him to breathe. Axel
ran his hands down the boy’s thin trembling back, feeling all the bumps and
crags of broken ribs and ugly scars.
“What are you doing?” Axel asked. “In here?”
Roxas’s cerulean sky-blue eyes shone in the darkness and then crystal tears
slid down his pale thin cheeks. He bowed his head, began to sob, and his entire
body trembled as if it was about to break apart. His fingers dug into Axel’s
chest.
“What’s wrong?” Axel whispered.
“I…”
“What is it?”
“I want you to fuck me. Please.”
The word went directly into Axel’s heart and he woke with a start. He lurched
up in the sweat-soaked sheets, out of breath and disturbed. What had that been?
A dream, a nightmare? Reality? Blessedly, he was alone in his bed. It took him
a moment to remember that he had in fact locked Roxas in the bedroom across the
hall. That had been a dream and nothing more. He lay back down, trying to calm
his blood and fall asleep once again. Somewhere in the house, he heard someone
crying, but rolled over and blocked it out.
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** A Cry in the Night: Pt II *****
Once again, due to popular demand, another chapter. (I added a ton to the
beginning of this chapter. There was absolutely no lead in for Roxas's fear of
the bed in the original chapter. Man, do I ever suck...)
                                     X X X
With a scream bottled up in his throat, Roxas woke with a start. He lurched up
fearfully and was greeted by a sharp strike to the side of his face. Reeling,
he pressed his hand over the throbbing place just above his eye and whimpered
as he sought to put his eyes on the master that had beaten him. He was alone in
the bedroom though and the blow had been nothing more than accidentally
striking his face on the frame of the bed nearby.
Shivering, Roxas drew the blanket tighter around his shoulders and studied his
bare feet on the cold hardwood floor. He shakily rose to his feet and moved to
the window to look out at the snow-covered night beyond. His breath fogged the
glass and another icy shiver went through him. Though there was a balcony,
Roxas didn’t dare open it and step out.
This place was so strange. His new master was being kind to him. He had been
fed and he hadn’t been raped or beaten, but he forced himself to add the word
‘yet.’ He was certain the time of punishment and suffering was coming. It was
only a matter of time.
Roxas moved away from the window and turned to face the bed. For a long moment,
he just stared at it. It really was a pretty thing with an ornately-carved
headboard, a coverlet the color of the sky, and countless perfectly-fluffed
pillows. Roxas couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to spend the
entire night in a warm bed, alone—if he ever had. Timidly, he approached the
bed and ventured out a hand, but stopped just shy of touching it.
He glanced at the door, but it wasn’t hurled open by his cat-eyed master to
strike him down for touching something forbidden. Swallowing thickly, Roxas ran
his hand across the coverlet. The blanket was awe-inspiringly soft and probably
deliciously warm. He moved his hand up the bed and pressed it lightly to the
plush pillows. The feathers gave beneath the pressure and cradled his hand.
Roxas glanced nervously at the window and then at the door, but no raging
master entered to strike him down.
Lightly, Roxas perched on the edge of the bed. Pain raced through his behind
and lower back, but it was brief as the soft mattress cradled his poor body.
With a soft sigh, Roxas allowed himself to lie down on the bed—just for a
moment, just for a few moments…
He promised himself that he would get up from the perfect bed in just a few
moments and go back to sleeping on the cold hard floor. Certainly, this bed was
for when his master chose to use him. It couldn’t possibly be something for
Roxas to use and delight in.
He closed his eyes and drew the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Slowly,
the chill crept from his body and his shivers abated.
God, this felt incredible.
Maybe, just maybe, Roxas could spend the night in this bed. If he woke early
enough, he could remake it perfectly so that his master wouldn’t know that he
had ever touched it. Roxas eased his eyes open and stared at the door for a
long moment. It remained peacefully closed and the hallway beyond was quiet.
Roxas’s eyes moved to the frigid floor and then to the window. Snow was falling
beyond the glass and Roxas could practically sense the chill soaking in, but
the bed was so warm and soft beneath him. He closed his eyes again and nestled
deeper into the pillow.
Yes, if he woke early enough to hide what he had done and therefore avoid being
beaten, Roxas would sleep in this bed. He snuggled into the blanket and
pillows, breathing the scent of clean sheets deep into his lungs and memorizing
it. The bed cradled him and Roxas fell into a deep and dreamless sleep within
moments.
…
The next morning, Roxas woke early but remained lying in the bed, relishing the
warmth of the thick blankets and the softness of the bed cradling his abused
body. Nightmares had plagued him most of the night, but he must not have
screamed because his master hadn’t come into his room to kick him in the
stomach and silence him by making him suck. He sighed sadly and snuggled deeper
into the bed, hugging his thin arms around his small body. His fingers sought
out old scars and broken ribs habitually, tracing the paths of his suffering
and pain.
When had his life become this hell? Would it ever end?
He let out a soft breath and traced his tongue over a scar inside his mouth.
When he was dead, it would end. Death was all that would free him.
Suddenly, he heard the lock begin to tumble. He lurched out of bed with a cry
bottled up in his throat, just as he had woken on the floor the night before.
He was certain that he wasn’t permitted to sleep in the bed, but he had
convinced himself last night that he would remake it so that no one noticed.
Stupid, stupid, stupid—he should have known better than to trust himself. It
was just too tempting to sleep in a real bed with warm blankets and soft
pillows. His broken body had been unable to resist last night and he should
have known that he wouldn’t be able to get out of it the next morning either.
He had been trying for just a few more moments, a few more seconds, just a
little bit longer, but he should have known. He was greedy. No matter what good
thing he had, he would always wish for just a little more time.
Now, his master was here and it was time to pay the piper.
When he was caught, he would be beaten within an inch of his life for certain.
No, a little voice in Roxas’s head whimpered. Not when, if—if I’m
caught—there’s still a chance!
Roxas threw himself out of bed and yanked up the covers quickly. He smoothed
them with both shaking hands, but his haste knocked down a pillow. He dove to
grab it from the floor. If he could just put it back on the bed, he would be
safe. His master wouldn’t know what he had done. His heart caught in his
throat, choking him. The door swung open just as Roxas straightened up with the
pillow in his arms and that was it.
He was caught.
The boy’s throat closed over and he was unable to breathe deeply enough to
sustain his racing heart. As those acid-green eyes fell on him and the pillow,
he flinched. He could already feel the sting of the whip on his ravaged back
and imagine the tearing pain of being bent over the nearest convenient surface
and brutally raped. He wondered if his new master would break his promise of
food already. Would he starve Roxas or would the punishment stop only at
physical pain? He could only pray that it would.
Instead, the redhead asked with a small smile, “Did you sleep well?”
Roxas’s heart stopped and his blood surged into it until he was certain it
would burst with shock and hope. Did his new master not see the pillow clasped
in his arms, a sure sign that he had touched the bed and maybe even slept in
it?
Watching him nervously, Roxas slowly nodded.
“Hungry?” Axel continued without pause.
Roxas gently laid the pillow back in its proper place and smoothed the rumpled
covers. The bed was a wreck, he realized sharply. There was no way Axel didn’t
know he had slept in the bed. What was he waiting for? Roxas internally wished
that Axel would just get it over with—rape him, beat him, starve him. Anything
was better than this apprehension and fear twisting in his stomach. Or did his
new master want to wait, to trick Roxas into thinking he was safe, and then
destroy him completely?
“Are you?” he repeated when Roxas didn’t answer. “Tell the truth.”
Roxas hesitated, but finally admitted, “Yes, Master.”
“Do you need more blankets for the bed?”
Roxas’s eyes widened and a little strangled sound welled up in his throat.
“You’re shivering,” Axel said softly and took a step towards him.
The boy pressed against the bed and had nowhere to run as Axel approached.
Those blue eyes darted wildly in search of escape, blind with fear and panic.
Despite everything, he didn’t want to be hurt. If he could postpone the
inevitable, even for a few moments, he would. When his master was close enough
to reach out and touch him, Roxas hurled himself to the floor in a bow as low
as he could go. His face pushed into the cold hardwood and he could practically
kiss his master’s slippered feet.
Axel sucked in a breath, but didn’t move to harm him.
“Please, please, don’t! I’m sorry!” Roxas begged. Begging had gotten him
nothing in the past—with them—but he was always willing to try anything to
avoid being beaten or raped. “I’m so sorry! I’ll never do it again! Please,
kind merciful master, please, don’t!”
Axel crouched, hooked him fingers under Roxas’s chin, and forced his eyes up.
“What?” he asked.
Roxas’s eyes filled with tears and a sob escaped him. “I’m so sorry—”
“For what, Roxas?” Axel repeated.
For a moment, Roxas could only stare into those green eyes, captivated. Then,
the truth came out of him before he could even think of lying since his master
didn’t seem to know what he had done wrong. “I… I s-slept in the b-bed,” he
whispered in a small shattered voice.
Axel released him, stood up sharply, and sat down on the bed. He put his head
between his knees and sat there, breathing deeply and slowly.
Roxas dared turn to glance at him, but remained pressed into the floor. Maybe
it would open up into a splintered mouth, devour him, and this would all be
over.
“Roxas, come here. Sit,” Axel murmured and lightly patted the space on the bed
beside him.
Trembling, Roxas rose to his feet and perched delicately beside Axel. His body
was so thin and small that the mattress barely dipped beneath his weight.
“I’m going to tell you something and I only want to tell you it once, so listen
closely,” he murmured.
Roxas’s heart throbbed.
“This,” Axel stretched his hand out to encompass the room, “is your room. This
is your bed and that’s your bathroom, your dresser and your closet. Everything
in this room is for you. You can do as you please in here. This is your space.”
Roxas stared at his strange new master. His space? He didn’t even have space
for himself inside his body? How could an entire room be his?
“If you want to sleep in the bathtub, you can. If you want to sleep in the bed,
you can, Roxas,” Axel told him gently. “I want you to be happy in this room. If
there’s something you want for it, I’ll even consider getting it for you.”
Roxas looked sharply down at his hands and bare feet, uncomprehending.
“Do you understand?” Axel whispered.
“No,” Roxas breathed.
“Why is that?”
Roxas’s blue eyes lit and then darkened. “I’m a… a slave.”
Axel lightly touched his shoulder, but when the boy shuddered, he pulled his
hand away. “You’re still a human being.”
He shook his head. “No…”
“So I own you,” Axel murmured, “but…” he hesitated. How could he put this
without making it sound even worse? “Think of yourself as,” he continued, “a
dog.”
Roxas’s head snapped up, his eyes darting sidelong to avoid Axel’s face. “A
dog?” he whispered and his voice sounded twice as broken.
“Yeah,” Axel choked out. Great going, Axel—open mouth, insert foot—but he had
already said it so he may as well keep going with it. “A dog. A dog is fed and
has its own bed and gets to go outside whenever it wants. Dogs have some
freedom and are well-taken care of even though they’re owned. They’re man’s
best friend.”
“But dogs are beaten,” the boy whispered.
“I don’t beat my pets. I love them and I take care of them.”
“If I’m a dog…” Roxas hesitated. “Are you going to fuck me?”
Axel winced. God, he hated hearing that word come out of this kid’s mouth.
“No,” he said softly.
Roxas stared at him and Axel could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe a
single word of this, so Axel spit out the truth.
“You are my slave so I do plan to have sex with you eventually.”
Roxas shuddered and dug his teeth into his lower lip fiercely. His eyes darted
to the string of beads that still lay discarded in the corner of the bedroom.
“But I won’t rape you,” Axel promised.
Roxas’s blue eyes met Axel’s searchingly and it didn’t look as if he liked what
he found because he looked sharply away at the floorboards. He folded his hands
together, clenched his fingers tightly so that the blood rushed out of them,
and his skin turned pale white. Tenderly, Axel laid his hand over those small
fists and he could feel the kid trembling.
“If you won’t fuck me, what will you do to me?” he whispered.
Axel’s stomach rolled. “Let’s make a deal, Roxas.”
“W-what?”
“Stop saying ‘fuck’ and I won’t hurt you.”
Roxas’s eyes widened and the pulse in his throat beat swiftly. “What should I
say…?”
“I don’t care, just stop saying that word. Okay? Deal?”
Roxas nodded slowly.
Axel patted his shoulder. “Good.” Then, he rose from the bed. “Now that that’s
out of the way, how about some breakfast?” He smiled at Roxas and it was like
ice melting. As his mouth warmed with a smile, his bright green eyes lit up
like a Christmas tree up and the tattoos of teardrops beneath each eye looked
less like dark scars. Axel’s frightening face was transformed by that smile.
For a moment, Roxas was not afraid.
Then, his master grasped his upper arm and pulled him towards the door. His
fingers dug into bruises and cuts and the fear filled his belly with ice and
lead. His heart throbbed in his chest and the words to beg almost escaped, but
he choked them back. What could he beg for anyway? For this life that seemed
safe and this master that seemed kind to stay? For Axel to keep his word and
not hurt him? For his nightmares to go away? There was a lot he wanted to beg
for, but he choked the words back.
                                     X X X
Ah, I feel bad for Roxas, but he’s pretty easy to torture.
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Protection? *****
Not too much of the whole “Axel’s father visits” arc is going to change except
for one BIG thing (which I don’t want to hear anything about from people who
don’t like it. Get over it!)
                                     X X X
Outside the window, there was a thick blanket of snow on the ground, but Chives
had shoveled the driveway and the tinsel lights hung on the porch. The manor
glowed like something out of a fairytale. Christmas was tomorrow.
A few days passed in a simple pattern since Axel had purchased the life of the
beautiful and damaged youth, Roxas, at the Puppy Mill. Roxas hadn’t adjusted
much though Axel was fairly sure he had been sleeping in the bed instead of on
the cold floor, but he couldn’t be sure. The boy still waited for permission to
eat, he always trembled at the lightest touch, and he didn’t often speak.
Sometimes, he held his body tightly and dropped to his knees when he thought he
did something wrong, cowering like an animal and waiting for Axel to beat the
shit out of him. True to his word though, he had stopped saying ‘fuck’ so there
was that at least.
Things were beginning to look up—there was light at the end of the tunnel and
Axel didn’t think it was merely an oncoming train.
Axel’s father was due in the late afternoon to have dinner and celebrate
Christmas with his only son. Normally, this yearly visit was something Axel
looked forward to, but for some reason, he was uneasy. Watching as Chives
struggled to put up the massive live evergreen tree in the corner of the living
room, Axel decided, it was probably because of Roxas.
The poor youth’s stomach had adjusted from the starvation enough that he could
eat heavier meals, but his body was still that of an unearthed corpse from
Auschwitz. It was going to be a while before he started putting on weight and
began to look like a human again. The last layers of filth had finally been
washed from his golden blonde hair, the caked dirt had been scrubbed from his
skin so that it was the color of milk-pale alabaster, and his blue eyes
sparkled now that the blood had seeped out of them. Bruises where Axel had held
him down for the checkup still marked his wrists and the other wounds were even
slower in healing.
Axel hadn’t been able to bring himself to brave the cold weather to find
anything to fit the boy yet and Cloud’s old clothing was so big that it just
hung off the poor kid’s skeleton body, but Roxas didn’t seem to mind. He
dressed himself in layer upon layer of clothing as if that would protect him.
Swathed in a heavy robe that was far too big, Roxas sat on the couch beside
Axel and watched as the tree went up in a state of awe. He looked at everything
that way—as if he had never seen something like it before in his life—but Axel
wasn’t certain that Roxas ever had.
Roxas’s life as a slave had obviously been terribly cruel and a master that
didn’t bother to feed him probably wouldn’t have bothered to put up a tree at
Christmas or cook a turkey on Thanksgiving. The boy took in the sight of the
villa with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted, and a small smile pulled at the
edges of his eyes. Axel fought back the urge to kiss him.
Progress with Roxas was slow, but Axel couldn’t say the same for his libido.
Every pale flash of Roxas’s bare skin went right to his groin and his mouth
watered at the sight of those soft chapped lips. When he watched Roxas eating,
he always wondered what it would be like when he finally felt that mouth
wrapping around his member. Axel shifted on the couch and fought away the
arousal by staring as Chives decorated the tree.
Now that he had scraped his eyes away from Roxas, the uneasy feeling crept back
in like a tide of dark water. Axel admitted to himself finally that it was the
prospect of introducing Roxas to his father that made him so uneasy.
Axel’s father had never quite come to grips with his only son’s sexual
preference. He wasn’t going to disown Axel any time soon because of it, but he
didn’t like that his son liked boys. Cloud had been as bitter and vicious as a
lemon and he had been able to stand up to Axel’s father with no trouble. He
didn’t flinch when Axel’s father had grabbed him by the hair and jerked his
head back at a sharp angle. Cloud had bared his teeth, snarled, and accepted
everything.
But Roxas was such a sweet fearful hurt little kid. What would he do when his
father’s stern disapproving glare found its mark? What would he do if Axel’s
father struck him or threatened him? Axel didn’t want the small progress he had
made with Roxas to be reversed by his father’s bad attitude.
“I suppose we’ll just have to see what happens,” Axel said to himself softly.
Roxas glanced at him, pulled his legs up against his chest, and wrapped his
arms around them. Then, he focused back on the tree as the butler put it up. He
watched the bright tinsel and shining ornaments with light in his eyes, but he
didn’t say anything.
“Young master, the angel or the star for the tree topper?” Chives called across
the room.
Axel turned to Roxas. “You pick,” he said.
Roxas looked away and didn’t answer.
Axel sighed. “The angel’s good, Chives,” he said.
“Very well, sir,” Chives said and climbed the large ladder to reach the top of
the tree. The angel smiled benevolently down on the living room with her
painted hands clasped beneath her breasts and her broad white wings stretched
towards the ceiling.
Axel returned his mind to the plight of Roxas meeting his father. It was bound
to be ugly, especially given how lovely Roxas was. All their progress would be
lost if Roxas panicked and Axel’s father was quite the brute, provoked or not.
Axel chewed his lower lip, thinking, and watched Chives work on the tree. Never
before had he seen someone who had so much luck with lights. It was positively
astounding that he could get them up without the entire strand going out or a
fuse blowing. Axel’s mother had the same sort of gift and she used to put up
all the Christmas lights before her sudden death.
“That’s it!” Axel shouted abruptly and leaped to his feet from the couch.
Beside him, Roxas jolted.
Axel skidded out of the living room and he could be heard crashing about in the
other room. It must have been a regular occurrence for him to jump about like
his ass was on fire, because Chives didn’t even glance at the strange redhead.
Roxas, though, nervously hugged himself and pressed tightly into the couch
cushions. What was he doing? What was going to happen now? But what Roxas
really wanted to know was… why was there a beautifully decorated tree in the
house? What was it for? Would it be lit on fire with Roxas tied to it? His
heart began to pound as Chives came across the room to stoke the fire. The
butler glanced at Roxas and smiled, but the boy quickly looked away.
Axel’s voice echoed excitedly against the walls in the other room, but Roxas
couldn’t make out what he was saying.
…
About an hour later, there was a loud knock on the front door, but there wasn’t
time for Chives to answer it. It swung open in a gust of cold snowy wind and a
young woman trounced in. She stood in the threshold, stomping her feet to get
the snow off her boots and making a fake shivering sound.
“Hell, Xion!” Axel shouted. “That’s cold!”
“Shut up, Axel!”
Roxas winced into the couch cushions. Who was this? What was happening now?
Axel rose from the couch and hurried over to her. He took her purse and
brightly-colored scarf—well, not so much took them as caught them as they were
thrown in his direction. “Xion!” he shouted again as he pulled her coat off the
top of his head.
Roxas pressed himself into the couch and hugged the over-sized robe around his
small body.
“Oh, stifle it, Axel,” she said. The young woman pulled off a knit hat and
shrugged out of her black pea coat, all of which she handed over to Axel who
handed them to Chives and the butler put them away in the closet. She stood
there in her jeans, tank top, and snow-dusted boots, soaking up the heat. Axel
continued to bitch about the snow and the cold, but she just ignored him. They
must have been good friends to get along so effortlessly.
She’s so pretty, Roxas thought as he gazed at the two of them.
The master’s friend had a perfect heart-shaped face fringed with sheets of
blue-black hair cut in layers around her shoulders and the biggest brightest
blue eyes he had ever seen. Her skin was pale caramel yet creamy around her
eyes and at her throat where the skin was thin. Her mouth was the color of pink
rose petals, glossed with sparkling lipstick, and her cheeks were pink with the
cold of the winter weather. Dressed jeans and a tank top, it was clear she kept
in shape without being emaciated as Roxas was. She was smiling, even though
there was no reason to smile.
“So Axel, what’s up?” she asked and took back her purse from him.
“Nothing. You know my father’s coming for dinner tonight.”
She blanched. “Ugh! And you called me over here?” She whacked him with her
purse—once, twice, a third time. “You know how much he hates me!”
Axel flinched away from her and fended off the purse with both hands. “I know,
I know! But he’s not here yet! Stop hitting me already!”
“Oh?” Xion repeated and stopped beating on him. “Then, forget what I said.
What’s up?”
“Did you bring it?” he asked and reached for her purse.
She held it out of reach. “Why do you want it?” she asked.
Axel opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again.
“You look like a fish out of water. Spit it out!”
Axel turned away from her and beckoned Roxas. His cheeks colored with
embarrassment and he called, “Come here.”
Roxas peeled himself from the couch and shuffled his way over with his small
fingers knotted in the robe. His heart raced and his mouth went dry. What were
they going to do with him? What was the item this smiling girl had brought?
Were they going to hurt him together?
“Ah, so this is him,” Xion remarked. “Riku called to tell me about him, too.”
“What did Riku tell you?” Axel asked. “Did he tell you more than I did?”
“He told me enough,” she murmured.
Their eyes met in a clash of sapphire and emerald. Riku and Xion were both very
levelheaded as opposed to Axel who was as ruled by emotions as a fire. Riku had
probably told Xion more than he had even told Axel because he knew Xion would
be able to handle it and could probably feed the information to Axel
delicately.
“Ah,” Axel whispered.
“He looks a little like Cloud,” she murmured.
“But he’s nothing like Cloud. He won’t be able to handle my father—”
“That bastard,” Xion put in sourly.
“—so I had to think of some way to protect him. You know how my father is about
my… choices.”
Xion nodded and pulled a small bundle of cloth and a wad of what looked like
hair out of her purse. She handed both of these over to Axel and then tossed
her purse in the general direction of the rest of her discarded clothing.
“This is perfect, Xion,” Axel said. “Thank you.”
Then, she turned to Roxas and reached out. He wanted to shy away, but she was
still smiling and it didn’t look like she would hurt him so he allowed her to
touch him lightly. Axel’s breath hissed between his teeth and Roxas almost
pulled away, but Xion didn’t give him a chance. Though she seemed to understand
his fear and didn’t touch him hard, her grip was still firm. She lightly
brushed the thick golden tresses away from his eyes and then traced her finger
down his cheek to settle lightly at the corner of his mouth.
“You are very beautiful, like an angel,” she murmured with a smile that was
sweet and soft. “What’s your name, honey?”
“Roxas,” he whispered and cast his eyes down at the floor.
She smiled even more gently. “I’m Xion. Axel’s an old friend of mine. We’ve
known each other since we were kids. I want you to know that he might act like
a stupid Neanderthal ninety-five percent of the time, but he’s a nice guy
underneath it all. Just give him some time to come around.”
“Hey,” was all Axel said in his defense.
Roxas’s lips curved in a small smile, but hid it before Xion or Axel noticed.
He was envious of this girl. She was so confident and strong and Roxas wished
he could have one-tenth of her courage. He also wished he could have had one-
tenth of her life.
She patted Roxas’s shoulder lightly and caressed her thumb over the hard bone
there. “I’m happy to help, but I’m going to leave before Mr-Scrooge-slash-The-
Grinch-slash-I-just-hate-everyone-who-breathes gets here. Good luck, Axel. It
was nice to meet you Roxas.” Then, with a small wave, she bundled back up her
winter clothing, grabbed her purse, and left with a bang and a gust of cold
snowy air.
Axel turned to Roxas. “Okay. Let’s make sure this fits,” he said.
Roxas’s heart throbbed with worry, but he followed his master upstairs.
                                     X X X
Hmm, what’s Axel’s plan?
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review for more! Encourage me!
***** Welcome, Father: Hello, Roxy. *****
I love how I fooled absolutely NO ONE! What gave it away? (Or did you all
remember?)
                                     X X X
Upstairs, Axel opened the door to Roxas’s bedroom. The sight of the heavy lock
on the outside that had been installed quickly after Cloud’s escape sent a
shiver down Roxas’s spine, but he followed into the bedroom anyway. Nothing
bothered him as much as the sight of the neatly-made four-poster bed.
“Take off that robe,” Axel said suddenly.
His worst fear was coming back into being. Would Axel throw him down on that
bed, tie him to the posters, and rape him even though he had promised that he
wouldn’t? Roxas thought back, trying to remember if he had said the word ‘fuck’
and therefore broken their bargain. He couldn’t remember through the haze of
chilling panic that had taken up root in his chest like a poisonous plant.
Roxas dug his fingers into the thick terrycloth and his blue eyes widened
desperately. He started to shake his head and a small animal cry caught in his
throat.
Axel caught his gaze and smiled gently. “We made a deal, remember? I’m not
going to hurt you.”
For a moment, Roxas hesitated, but he untied the belt of the robe with shaking
fingers and let it drop. In only a t-shirt and boxers, he stood before his
master, shivering, while Axel sorted out whatever it was that Xion had given to
him. Finally, he shook the wrinkles out of a white cotton dress with long
sleeves and a lace-trimmed hem and found the center of the golden blonde wig.
Both of these, he lay out on the bed and turned to Roxas. Roxas took a step
back and shook his head fearfully.
“We made a deal,” Axel reminded him. “Have you said that word?”
Roxas shook his head, but warily watched the dress as if it was a coiled snake
that would spring up and bite him.
“It’s not some sick fantasy of mine to make you cross-dress, Roxas,” Axel said
firmly, but his cheeks colored at the thought. God, Roxas was so beautiful.
The young boy stared at him with those cerulean eyes bright and clearly
disbelieving.
“It’s to…” Axel tried to explain, “protect you from my father’s judgment. He
doesn’t like that I’m gay and he always harps on me for having male slaves. If
you look like a girl, and you’re beautiful enough that passing you off will be
easy, he probably won’t bother you at all. Okay? It’s for your own protection.”
Roxas was eager for any protection he could garner. He didn’t like to be hurt
and he would to anything to avoid it. So, slowly and nervously, he nodded.
Then, he lifted his slender arms and let Axel pull the soft dress down over his
head. His master settled the wig on his head and curled the tapered Sleeping-
Beauty-blonde strands around his long fingers.
“You look perfect,” Axel whispered and his fingers lingered just a moment too
long on Roxas’s throat.
Roxas smoothed the pale fabric absently and twined the long pale tresses around
his fingers. He had never worn something so nice before and the dress almost
sort-of fit him. When he glanced at the mirror, he barely recognized his
reflection. He could see why everyone wanted to use and abuse him. Sharply, he
looked away from the polished surface.
Downstairs, they heard the echoing bang of the lion’s head doorknocker as
someone rapped on the front door. Axel had gotten Roxas into the costume just
in time. His father, Luxord Inferno, had arrived. Already, he could smell the
nostalgic scent of tobacco, Old Spice, and sulfur. As much as he loved his
father, the man could really try one’s patience at times. (Just look at Xion!
She loved everyone, but she fled in the face of Axel’s father.)
“That’s Dad,” Axel said and smiled.
A swell of uneasiness took up root just behind Roxas’s heart and pressed on it
like a vice grip. He bit his lower lip hard.
Axel turned away from Roxas and hurried downstairs.
…
The tree glowed beautifully, decorated to the brim. The ornaments reflected the
candied lights, the popcorn was bright yellow, and the angel was smiling down
benevolently. The fire was still burning hot and wonderful in the grate,
mistletoe hung in the threshold, and the little Lionel train was circling the
tree endlessly. The house overflowed with the mood and scent of
Christmas—evergreen, gingerbread, and hot cider plus Luxord’s nostalgic
sulfurous smell. Chives was helping Luxord out of his heavy overcoat when Axel
charged down the stairs.
Luxord Inferno was a big and formidable man with a barrel chest, broad
shoulders, and a narrow waist. He looked as if he could wrestle a bull and win,
but he had a soft voice and a kind young face. He had pale blue eyes and pale
blonde hair that was cropped close to his head with his facial hair groomed in
a chin strap style. Luxord said that Axel got both his bright green eyes and
his flame-red hair from his mother. Axel’s memories of what his mother looked
like were vague since she had died when he was young and Luxord didn’t keep any
pictures of her while Axel was growing up. Luxord had raised him, roughly with
a heavy hand, but well.
Axel left Roxas behind as he crossed the room to embrace his father. “Hey Dad!”
“Axel, how’s everything going?” Luxord asked his only child. “The house looks
amazing. I love what you’ve done with it.”
“Thanks. Chives really keeps everything in order. I don’t know what I’d do
without him.” Axel chuckled at his own expense.
“Oh, I’m sure you’d get along fine. My son is a strong man!” Luxord said,
clapped Axel on the shoulder, and then laughed. “So, working hard or hardly
working?”
“A little bit of both,” Axel said with a grin.
“Where’s your little fag rag?” Luxord’s tone of voice remained jovial and fine,
but the expression in his eyes spoke volumes of his disapproval.
Axel practically sensed Roxas’s heartbeat leap up to light speed. “Dad, I told
you that Cloud ran away.”
Luxord patted his son’s shoulder. “So, been doing a lot of jerking off lately?”
The young redhead rolled his eyes. “Dad,” he said sternly.
Grinning, Luxord raised his hands. “Alright, alright,” he relented and then his
pale eyes found Roxas. “Oh, and who might this be?”
Axel had a moment of panic. He did this all the time—went off on a plan that
was only half-baked. He had taken the time to dress Roxas up as a girl, but
hadn’t even taken the time to think of a good name. “This is… uh… Roxy,” he
sputtered out.
“Roxy?” Luxord glanced at his son. “You purchased a female slave to replace
your little boy toy?”
Axel wet his lips and tried to think of a good reason for his sudden change in
tastes. “Well, she’s so beautiful and I thought I’d try something from the
other side of the buffet, you know?”
Luxord crossed the room to Roxas and circled him, clicking his tongue. “Mmm,
very lovely. I could see how a girl like this would turn even you, Axel,” he
said. He caught Roxas’s face in his long strong fingers and forced the youth to
meet his bright eyes. “Are you afraid, girl?”
Trembling, Roxas nodded.
“Dad, come on. I just bought her and she’s been through a lot. Lay off, huh?”
“You mean you haven’t fucked her yet?”
The blood drained out of Roxas’s face and Axel saw tears well in his blue eyes.
Beside Luxord, Roxas looked like a shattered little porcelain doll.
Halfheartedly, Roxas tried to pull away from the larger man’s hold on his thin
face, but he didn’t quite dare struggle against this man the way he had
struggled against his new master. He had a feeling that if he showed any sort
of disobedience, this man would put him down like a broken animal. Desperately,
his blue eyes flashed to Axel, begging, pleading, for his master to intervene.
“Dad!” Axel protested.
“What?” Luxord asked, but he wasn’t finished with his ugly rampage. “Just look
at this tight little body. How old are you, girl? Twelve, thirteen?”
Roxas desperately shook his head and tried to back away, but Luxord closed his
hand around his thin upper arm and pulled him closer. He slid his fingers
around Roxas’s throat, pressing his fingers to his pulse and collarbones and
stroking the soft battered skin.
“I like the young ones, too, just like my son. Although I like the girls,”
Luxord continued. He reached around to cup the swell of Roxas’s behind,
squeezed the cheek firmly, and his fingers sought out intimate flesh. “Are you
a virgin, girl? Even if you aren’t, I bet you’re ungodly tight! Your body’s so
small.”
Roxas’s mouth slipped open as if a cry were about to escape and a single tear
rolled down his pale cheek.
“Dad!” Axel shouted.
Then, Axel closed the space between himself, Roxas, and his father. Quickly, he
pried Luxord’s fingers from Roxas’s body and pulled Roxas’s small form flush
against his own protectively. He had been expecting Roxas to pull away from
him, maybe even run, but the boy’s thin arms instead went around his waist
tightly and clung to him desperately. He wrapped his arms around Roxas’s small
body in return and just held him tightly for a moment, stroking the long hair
of the wig as he relished the press of the boy’s body against his own.
“Dad,” Axel began, but he couldn’t find the words with all the blood rushing
south. “Let’s just eat, okay?”
“You want to keep her to yourself, I understand,” Luxord said and raised his
hands. “Alright then. Don’t share.” His eyes flashed at his son and he smirked.
“But have you ever fucked a woman, Axel?”
Axel’s face flushed. “Yes, Dad.”
“Have you ever been fucking one who’s being slammed from both sides?”
Axel’s green eyes widened.
A small mewl of fear escaped Roxas, but was smothered by Axel’s chest.
Luxord grinned. “It’s amazing, Axel. You just can’t believe how fucking tight
they get when they’re really stuffed like that and you can feel everything
inside them. It’s fucking heaven on earth, kid, and we could do that to your
little Roxy. A little bonding?”
“Dad,” Axel said slowly. He felt a little ill at the thought of Roxas’s poor
body being stretched open like that, but he couldn’t deny the little sliver of
arousal that cut through his morals. What would it be like to be deep within
Roxas’s body, feeling the sheath of his muscles clenching so tightly around
him? Would he be even tighter with two inside him? “Can we just… eat?”
“Fine, fine,” Luxord relented and his eyes lingered on Roxas a moment longer
before he turned away.
…
Chives brought the Christmas goose from the kitchen, delicately stuffed and
trussed up, and set it in the center of the table between Axel and Luxord. He
removed the silver cover with a flourish, bowed slightly, and hurried back to
the kitchen to bring out the next dish. Chives was the grease that kept the
entire Inferno household moving on the right track. Then, there was a never-
ending parade of Chives bringing out dish after dish of sides and spectacular
foods.
Though it was Axel’s house and he usually sat at the head of the table, he
relinquished that place to his father each Christmas. He sat to Luxord’s right
and Roxas to Luxord’s left.
The boy’s fingers trembled at the edge of the table. He clearly hadn’t
recovered from what Luxord had said to him or the touches from the larger man,
but Axel couldn’t really blame him. The long blonde tendrils of the wig
fluttered around his thin pale face and the white linen dress hung off the
sharp curves of his skeleton body like a funeral robe. His eyes were wide,
growing bloodshot, and his bright cerulean gaze just kept darting to Axel
desperately.
Axel just couldn’t get his mind off how Roxas had clutched him so desperately.
Axel was also worried about how his father would respond to this entire
situation. He had thought that dressing Roxas as a girl would protect him from
his father’s onslaught, but it was appearing to do just the opposite. Luxord
was drawn to Roxas because he was not only beautiful, but now he looked like a
girl and his father was a big fan of beautiful girls.
“Let’s eat,” Axel said before Luxord could turn his attention back to Roxas.
“Dad, if you would do the honor of cutting the Christmas goose.”
“I’d be happy to,” Luxord said and picked up the knife lying beside the goose.
The tip of the knife near Roxas’s wrist and the boy shuddered away, trembling,
but Luxord only grinned. Then, he stood up and began to cut into the breast of
the goose.
Axel picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes and put some on Roxas’s plate.
The boy met his eyes and his teeth dug nervously into his lower lip.
“Roxy, you can eat whatever you want and however much you want, okay?” Axel
whispered to him.
The boy started to nod, his shoulders shaking, when Luxord slammed a leg down
on Roxas’s plate. The boy jolted, frightened by the loud noise and violent
movement. Roxas’s blue eyes desperately flashed from Axel to Luxord and down to
the plate again.
“Eat up, girl. You need your strength to grow big titties. You’re as sexless
and flat-chested as a boy,” Luxord said with a mean grin.
“Dad,” Axel chided.
“What?” he said and grinned at his son. “Do you deny that this girl needs to
eat?”
Roxas’s eyes frantically sought out Axel’s.
Slowly, Axel shook his head and passed his father the potatoes. “No, Dad, she
definitely needs to eat so,” he met Roxas’s eyes gently, “please eat, Roxy.”
Roxas lowered his eyes to his plate and began delicately picking at the goose
leg on his plate. He followed Axel’s orders to eat even though he jolted
whenever something new was added to the plate. Axel could see his hands
trembling. The bruises that ringed his wrists, his own fingerprints within
them, stood out sharply against the white fabric of the borrowed dress. A dark
scab of dried blood was visible beneath the sleeve of the dress where he had
clawed himself in a frenzy when Axel played Rufus Wainwright’s ‘Broken
Hallelujah’ for him.
“So, Axel, how’s the family business?” Luxord asked and pulled Axel’s attention
away from the youth.
“Ah? Oh, it’s good,” Axel said and took a bite of goose.
Then, Luxord promptly ignored Roxas and continued talking with his son about
everything that had happened since they had last seen each other. He only slid
in a few references to Cloud and Axel’s sexual preference, so it wasn’t that
bad. Before he knew it, Axel stopped worrying about Roxas and his father. When
Chives cleared the plates and brought out the after-dinner drinks, Axel proved
his manhood to his father by matching him drink for drink and shot for shot.
Soon, both men were laughing uproariously. Roxas was a distant thought in the
background of Axel’s hazy mind and a chilly night fell on Christmas Eve outside
the frosted windows.
                                     X X X
Wow, Luxord’s a little over the top, even for me. I ought to try to rein him in
a little. (I don’t want to hear too many people whine that Luxord is now Axel’s
father, either. Just take it with a grain of salt and move on with your lives,
okay?)
Who senses a problem? Who smells a rat? (I don’t! Where’d my plot go? It went
ahead and fled on me!)
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review or death!
***** Christmas Nightmares: Pt I *****
I’m finally unstuck. I completely lost my train of thought for this story.
Actually, I think the train of thought completely derailed, but after a massive
general cleanup and picking up of my spilled ideas, I’m ready to go again! Yay
me? Maybe?
                                     X X X
The fire crackled in the grate and the house smelled amazing with the lingering
scents of Christmas dinner. The brightly-colored candied lights of the giant
Christmas tree played across the polished hardwood floor, the angel topper
still smiled benevolently down at them from her perch atop the tree, and the
ornaments tinkled against each other lightly. It was like the Christmases of
Axel’s childhood—peaceful and rich with wonder and excitement for the next
morning.
Laughing, Luxord twirled the bottle of twenty-year-old fine Scotch in front of
his son’s face so that the amber liquid sloshed in the glass bottle. “Come on,
Axel. Have another drink!” He encouraged, laughing loudly so that his voice
echoed against the vaulting walls of the living room.
Axel allowed his father to refill his glass and then swilled it in one gulp.
His cheeks reddened from the alcohol and he laughed uproariously along with his
father. He leaned back into the couch cushions, his head falling back over the
edge and his thick red hair tumbling down. “Daddy, I love you!”
“I love you too, son. Here, have another!” Luxord said and grinned. He filled
Axel’s glass again and then took a long drink directly from the bottle, letting
out a sigh and a belch of relief. “This is such good stuff. Where’d it come
from?”
“You!” Axel downed the shot. Then, he stared off in Roxas’s general direction
and his gaze strayed to the beautiful Christmas tree. “Wow… that’s such a…
great tree. I’ll have to… thank Chives… later… for decorating it…” Then, like a
tree being felled by a lumberjack, the alcohol overcame him and he passed out.
Boneless, his body slid off the couch and crumpled on the floor in a snoring
heap.
Luxord set down the bottle on the coffee table beside the couch, got up, and
heaved his son’s happily snoring body back onto the sofa. Then, he poured
himself another shot and drank it slowly, sipping and watching the flickering
flames in the hearth. It became painfully clear that he could hold his liquor
better than any sailor could and had only been pretending to be as smashed as
his son was.
Roxas shuddered before the fire and carefully pushed back some of the long
blonde hairs that fell dangerously close to the flames. Absently, he tucked the
hair behind his ears and stretched his hands out towards the flames. He was
cold. He only had socks on and the chill from the floor was seeping into his
body. He could feel the master’s father watching him, feel those eyes exploring
his back, and shivered. He didn’t like the fact that his master was
unconscious. What if something happened? He trembled and clenched his teeth so
they wouldn’t chatter.
Suddenly, Luxord’s voice rang against the walls. “Are you cold, Roxy?”
Roxas jolted and then shook his head without turning to face the man.
Luxord rose from the couch and came to stand above Roxas’s crouched form. The
heat of his body was almost as hot as the fire, but Roxas shivered anyway. He
had a bad feeling and his instincts were rarely wrong. Sure enough, Luxord
crouched behind Roxas, wrapped his arms around the boy’s narrow waist, and
pulled him flush against his chest.
“You really are beautiful, girl,” Luxord whispered. His fingertips explored
just above the collar of the dress and dipped beneath. The pads of his
fingertips were rough on Roxas’s raw skin, scraping over sensitive patches of
bruises and cuts.
“Please, don’t,” Roxas pleaded.
“Why? It’ll warm you up.” Luxord traced the shell of Roxas’s ear with his
tongue, swept the golden hair of the wig aside, and then dipped his head to
suckle the tender flesh of his neck. His teeth teased the edge of Roxas’s skin,
threatening pain if he denied him further.
“I-I’m not cold,” Roxas whispered softly.
“I am,” Luxord murmured and pulled the neck of the dress down Roxas’s shoulder
so he could nip his racing pulse. His big hands groped upwards from the boy’s
waist, searching for breasts that didn’t exist. He found Roxas’s nipples and
pinched them firmly, twisting them between his rough fingers through the dress.
Roxas shuddered. “Please… don’t do this…”
But Luxord didn’t stop. “You really are flat-chested, almost like a boy. I
guess my son likes that,” the master’s father murmured against the shell of
Roxas’s ear. The stink of alcohol surrounded Roxas, smothering him.
“Stop,” he begged. “Please.”
Luxord cupped his throat and forced his face to turn towards him. Deeply, he
kissed Roxas, his hot tongue pushing at the boy’s clenched lips. Through the
fabric of the borrowed dress, he found a nipple and pinched firmly. When Roxas
didn’t open his mouth, Luxord tugged it harshly until a small cry escaped
Roxas’s lips. Taking advantage, Luxord pushed his tongue into the boy’s mouth.
Panic set in on Roxas like a tide, his heart throbbed, and all he wanted was
for this to stop! What if Luxord found out he was a boy? Would he be raped
anyway or would he only be beaten? Desperately, Roxas bit down on the intruding
tongue and tasted blood.
Yelping, Luxord pulled back sharply and touched his lips. His fingers came away
bloody and those pale eyes lit on Roxas. Immediately, Roxas knew he was going
to suffer badly for what he had done. His mouth opened automatically, spilling
apologies, and his body tried to fold in on itself to protect him from the
blows that were sure to come, but he hardly got the chance. Luxord’s hand
cracked across his face brutally and black spots threatened the edges of
Roxas’s vision. He pressed a hand to his cheek and his eyes welled with tears.
“My son never trains his little slaves to listen and obey and fear,” Luxord
snarled.
Roxas whimpered, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
“That’s why his last toy ran away—not because Axel treated him badly, but
simply because he could. Axel makes it so easy for them,” Luxord hissed.
“Please, I’m sorry,” Roxas whispered and tried to move away.
Luxord’s hand closed around his ankle and dragged him closer with his fingers
digging into the bruises that already existed there. He ran his hands up
Roxas’s thin legs from ankle to knee, taking in the sight of all the bruises
and cuts. “It looks like your last owner used you to your fucking limits. Even
so, you’ve grown soft under my son,” Luxord hissed. “This time, I won’t have
him disobeyed again like his last fag rag did.”
Roxas whimpered. “Please, don’t, please.”
Luxord dug his fingers into Roxas’s face. “Listen to me very closely because
I’m only going to say this once,” he snarled.
Roxas’s thin throat flashed as he swallowed nervously.
“Are you listening?”
He nodded, trembling.
“If you run away from my son, I will find you and I’ll make you wish that you’d
never been born. Then, I’ll buy my son a new well-trained faggot slave and I’ll
give you to a friend of mine to suffer until your body finally gives out.”
Roxas trembled in fear, unable to draw breath.
“Do you understand?”
Roxas nodded.
“Good,” Luxord said.
Then, he kissed the youth again, pushing his tongue into Roxas’s un-protesting
mouth. His large hands ripped the neck of the dress down over Roxas’s thin
shoulders. The fabric tore as more and more pale flesh was exposed. Roxas
shuddered, his skin prickled with goose bumps, and he desperately tried to push
Luxord away. But the man was so much bigger and stronger than Roxas and it was
a hopeless fight. His breath stinking of alcohol, Luxord pushed Roxas down on
the floor in front of the fireplace and ripped the dress straight down the
middle.
For a moment, Roxas wondered if the smiling girl would be angry about her
dress.
A whimper escaped Roxas as he clutched his arms around his body. He wanted to
beg, to protest, but it had never gotten him anything before so he didn’t even
bother. Luxord fisted a hand in his long golden hair and the wig pulled off in
his hand, tendrils clinging to Roxas’s naked shoulders. Shocked, Luxord shoved
Roxas back harshly and the back of his head slammed down on the floor.
Trembling, he lay there, submissive, as his vision speckled with stars.
The alcohol slowed Luxord’s thinking and he spent a long moment wondering why
such a pretty girl was wearing an oversized t-shirt and boxers beneath her
dress. Then, it looked as if a light bulb had come on in his head and he yanked
down Roxas’s boxers.
Sobbing, Roxas tried to cover himself.
“A boy?” Luxord repeated incredulously. “Masquerading as a girl?”
Roxas whimpered.
“Does my son know?”
He didn’t answer.
Luxord slapped him brutally and Roxas tasted blood. “Answer me!”
“Y-yes,” Roxas sobbed and a droplet of blood ran from the corner of his lips.
“It was… it was his idea…”
Luxord snorted and ran a hand over his face. “He wanted to protect you from my
wrath.” He glanced at his unconscious son, still snoring drunkenly on the
couch. “How sweet of him. He always was so kind—too kind.”
Roxas cried, “I’m a boy, too, so please—”
Luxord kissed him, deeply, and the taste of Scotch was overwhelming. “I don’t
care anymore. Beside, you’re not going to tell him, are you?” he hissed into
Roxas’s mouth. “Why would you tell him that I’ve fucked you? He’d get rid of
you if he knew I used you. I’m a lot bigger than he is and I’ll stretch your
body for certain. He likes it tight.”
Roxas sobbed and weakly pushed at Luxord’s chest. “Please, don’t…”
Luxord jammed his fingers into Roxas’s mouth. “You’ve been fucked before, kid.
You know what to do.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Roxas eagerly licked and sucked the fingers in his
mouth. The more saliva he put on them, the easier this would be on his small
fragile body. Luxord seemed to enjoy the frenzy of fear and pain that gripped
him because he let Roxas lick for the long time before finally pulling them
out.
The hand went immediately down between Roxas’s legs and cupped his ass lightly
before seeking out one of his most abused places. Even wet, it hurt so badly
when the first finger entered him. Crying out, his body arched and his narrow
heaving torso pressed against Luxord’s barrel chest. Luxord laughed meanly. He
pumped the finger in and out of Roxas’s small body three times only and then
added his second finger, doing the same, and adding the third. He stretched
Roxas, though barely.
“God damn,” he muttered. “You’re fucking tight.”
Roxas whimpered, sobbing. His eyes strayed to where Axel was passed out on the
couch only a few feet away. He wanted to scream, ‘I’m yours. You own me, body
and soul, so please help me! Don’t let him do this to me!’ But he didn’t beg or
even say anything.
“Get on your hands and knees,” Luxord snapped.
Trembling, Roxas moved to do so. The boxers slid down to his knees and the torn
dress hung around his body like a curtain. The wig lay discard a small ways
away. Roxas stared into the fire as he positioned himself on his hands and
knees. The cool air kissed against his exposed body and Luxord’s hand was as
hot as a brand when he ran his fingers across Roxas’s behind. Again, he pushed
his fingers in and pumped them brutally. Roxas cried out softly, his ragged
fingernails scraping against the hardwood floor.
“Wait!” Luxord said suddenly as he curled his fingers within Roxas. “I changed
my mind. I want to see that pretty face when I fuck you.”
A small animal cry escaped Roxas’s mouth as Luxord jerked him back harshly by
his ankle. His arms were pulled from beneath him and he crashed down beneath
the larger man. He couldn’t fight back, he couldn’t protest, he couldn’t even
beg. He didn’t have a chance or a choice—such was the fate of a slave.
Sparks from the fire leaped at him, singeing his pale skin, and he tried in
vain to cover his vulnerable body. Luxord pulled the remains of the torn dress
off him, yanked the t-shirt over his head, and pulled down the boxers the rest
of the way. Completely naked, Roxas covered his face with his hands and waited,
trembling on the cold floor.
Luxord fisted his hands in Roxas’s pale hair and yanked him forward between his
knees. Roxas smelled the other man’s penis even before he knew what was going
to be demanded of him and bile rose in the back of his throat. So many things
had been forced on him, but sucking a cock was one of the things he hated the
most. At least when he was raped, he only had to lay there and take it and try
not to scream too loudly, but sucking required him to give up a little shard of
himself. He had to pleasure his masters regardless of how they would hurt him.
Sometimes, if he sucked well enough, they wouldn’t fuck him. Roxas always
strove for that slim chance.
“Suck me,” Luxord said.
Keeping his eyes closed, Roxas opened his mouth and took a deep breath to
sustain his lungs while his throat was fucked. Luxord didn’t wait long. He
slammed into Roxas’s mouth to the hilt so that his member slid deep into
Roxas’s throat. He moaned as Roxas’s teeth scraped lightly at the sensitive
flesh. Salty pre-cum filled Roxas’s mouth, his nose pressed into sweaty pubic
hair, and he choked. Luxord began to move inside his mouth, thrusting hard and
fast so that it was even harder to breathe.
“Use your tongue. I’m going to fuck your little asshole after this and you
don’t want it to hurt, do you?”
Tears welled in Roxas’s eyes and he began to lavish saliva and desperation on
the thick cock in his mouth. Again, Luxord let him do this for a long time,
groaning and thrusting into Roxas’s mouth, He gripped Roxas’s head tightly,
jerking him forward and back harshly, and ripped out strands of pale honey-
blonde hair. Finally, he pulled out and Roxas coughed, sucking in air
desperately.
Luxord slammed him back onto the floor, grabbed his narrow hips hard, and
pulled his body down towards his dripping dick. Roxas’s nails dug into the
hardwood and scraped a ragged path. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears
escaped anyway. Luxord licked the tears from his cheeks, his breath stinking as
he chuckled meanly, and Roxas turned his face away.
Axel’s father didn’t finger Roxas again or otherwise try to prepare him. He
only positioned himself at the small boy’s ass and began to push. For a moment,
his large cock and the boy’s small sheath didn’t agree. The boy’s body was so
tiny, but it was easy to overcome problems like that when you cared nothing for
the boy’s pain. Luxord dug his fingers into the boy’s hip, used one hand to
guide himself, and thrust brutally. Even so, it took him a few tries before he
was able to enter.
The boy screamed beneath him as he was brutally filled. He screamed in absolute
agony and the sound raged against the windows like a bird trapped inside.
Roxas’s fingernails clawed into the hardwood and he didn’t even feel it when a
hot spark leaped onto his skin.
Luxord was barely aware of either of those things. He was hardly aware of the
scream that echoed through the entire house and even caused Axel to groan and
roll over deep him his drunken stupor. All he was aware of was how fucking
tight the kid’s ass was. No wonder his son liked them young, small, and male.
It didn’t even compare to fucking a woman’s ass. It was tighter, hotter,
deeper, and drier for even more friction. It was just pure bliss.
Chives hurried into the living room as he pulled on his pristine white gloves.
“What happened?” the butler asked.
Roxas was still screaming. He tossed his head against the hardwood floor and
though his eyes were squeezed shut, tears still streamed down his cheeks.
“Ah, perfect timing,” Luxord gasped out. “Get me something to shut him up.”
The butler blanched as he caught sight of Roxas’s damaged naked body and
Luxord’s massive frame hovering over the poor screaming child. “What are you
doing to the master’s slave?” Chives asked, his voice hitching nervously.
“I have permission,” Luxord lied. “Just get me something to shove in his mouth
or else come over here and gag him with your cock, you worthless butler.”
Chives scuttled from the room and Luxord had a feeling he wouldn’t be coming
back. Luxord grasped a throw pillow from the couch, yanked it heartlessly from
beneath Axel’s head, and smashed it over Roxas’s face. The screaming was
instantly muffled, though it continued for a moment before it stopped. Luxord
removed the pillow and stared down into Roxas’s beautiful face. His chest was
heaving desperately and his eyes were wide and bloodshot from lack of oxygen.
“If you don’t want to be smothered to death while I fuck you, I’d shut up,”
Luxord panted.
A single tear rolled down the boy’s face.
Luxord grinned. Then, he pulled out to the tip and thrust in deeply. Roxas
opened his mouth to scream and Luxord slapped him sharply. Instead, Roxas’s
teeth found his lower lip and bit hard enough that blood poured down his chin.
He tightened his grip on Roxas’s hips and pushed into his small body harder and
faster. Roxas quivered beneath him, naked and shivering. His small chest
heaved, his pulse raced, and he dug his nails into the floor.
Though sparks leaped onto his bare body, the boy didn’t notice through the pain
of being brutally filled. Luxord pounded into him harshly, pushing Roxas’s thin
legs high and widely apart. His hips ached, but he didn’t dare cry out. The
larger man continued to slam into him. He kept one hand on Roxas’s narrow hip
and his free hand roamed a path up his pale chest. He squeezed Roxas’s nipples
until they were raw and then dipped his head to bite.
Roxas yelped, unable to hold back the small sounds of pain that escaped him. He
pressed both hands to Luxord’s chest, but the man pulled them away and pinned
them over Roxas’s head. The heat of the fire seared his knuckles, but it was
nothing compared to the pain that speared through his lower body. He was being
torn apart, but there was no respite for him. He sobbed, tipping his head back
in agony, and Luxord bit his exposed neck hard.
For what felt like an eternity, Luxord fucked Roxas dry and hard, plowing into
his small body repeatedly. On the other hand, it didn’t feel like very long to
Luxord before the unbelievable tightness and heat made him cum. He spilled
inside the kid and then pulled out.
Immediately, the boy rolled over into fetal position and wrapped his arms
around himself tightly. Even so close to the leaping fire, he shivered. The
firelight played on the planes of his pale nudity, hanging in the thin hollows
and dancing over his many bruises. Luxord probed the boy’s reamed ass and
grinned as his semen seeped out of the kid’s body and spilled on the floor.
Then, he threw the boy’s clothing into the flames and watched them burn.
“Get yourself upstairs and clean up,” Luxord snapped. “If you tell my son what
I did, it will only end badly for you.”
Roxas whimpered and curled deeper into the floorboards.
“You were a good fuck,” Luxord whispered. “I think I might take you again
later.”
Then, Luxord zipped himself back into his pants, kissed his son’s cheek
lightly, and went away upstairs to the guest room. Roxas heard the door close
and then silence fell over the manor, broken only by Axel’s snoring and the
crackling of the fire. Chives did not return.
In agony, Roxas lay on the cold floor for a long time while his mouth and ass
bled. Finally, he dragged himself to his feet, naked and dripping cum. He
stared at his master for a long moment and tears burned in his eyes, but he had
no one but himself to blame. This had probably been planned from the start and
Roxas should have known better. Slowly, whimpering with every step, he made his
way to the room that had once belonged to Cloud.
Luxord was waiting in the hallway, grinning like a wolf. He had taken off his
shirt and the muscled lines of his chest gleamed in the light. He was erect
again even though Roxas’s blood surely still lingered on his skin.
Roxas flinched away, fear smothering his lungs and heart. He couldn’t run away.
No one would help him if he did—not his master, not the butler, no one. He had
no choice but to submit as Luxord gripped Roxas’s chin and began to kiss him.
After a moment, Luxord cruelly bit Roxas’s already-split lip and drank in the
blood even as Roxas cried. He jerked Roxas closer, lifted the boy’s legs to
wrap around his hips, and ignored the small pleas for mercy that escaped
Roxas’s bleeding mouth. He pressed Roxas against the wall as he forced his way
into the boy’s body again. Once he was sheathed inside, he let go of Roxas so
that the only thing holding him up was the thick shaft of Luxord’s cock.
He fucked Roxas right there in the hall. The new angle was even more painful
and Luxord appeared to be going out of his way to pinch the tender places on
Roxas’s body until he was ready to scream. Roxas swallowed the sounds though,
even though the pain was white-hot. Then, when Luxord came close to finishing,
he slammed Roxas down onto his knees and forced him to suck him to completion.
Semen poured into Roxas’s mouth and he struggled slightly.
“Swallow it all,” Luxord hissed.
Roxas had no choice, but his stomach rolled as he did so. He was nearly sick
right there, but managed to fight back the urge.
“To make you strong,” Luxord said with a cruel grin. Then, he slapped Roxas’s
face lightly and went to the guest room to sleep.
Shivering and crying, Roxas crawled into the room, closed the door softly, and
made his way to the cold porcelain tub. He collapsed in the bottom of the tub,
sobbing, and it took a long moment for him to find the will to turn on the warm
water. Beneath the hot spray, he sat and prayed that the water would be enough
to wash the signs of use from his body even though he knew it wouldn’t be.
Gently, he slipped his fingers into his body and did his best to clean his very
core. He fought back his tears even as blood and semen colored the warm water.
When he was as clean as he would ever be and he didn’t think Axel would notice
that he had been used, he shut off the water and crawled out of the tub.
Shuddering, he dried himself off and then set the towel aside. Since Luxord had
burned his clothes, he didn’t dare redress. Naked, Roxas curled up on the floor
beside the bed.
Luxord did not come to fuck him again. Even so, Roxas couldn’t sleep a wink
that night. He lay awake with his blue eyes glued to the door, waiting for
Luxord or his master to come in and take him, waiting to be violated again.
But no one came in the room that had once been Cloud’s.
Roxas was alone on Christmas night.
                                     X X X
I failed at reining Luxord in. He really got away from me. *chases with stick*
Bad Luxord, bad!
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Christmas Nightmares: Pt II *****
How many people are following this story through Fanfiction.net? Or is my
posting a little note over there each time I put up a chapter here completely
pointless?
                                     X X X
Axel Inferno woke up sprawled on the floor beside the couch with a throbbing
headache and not much memory of what had happened after Christmas dinner. He
remembered drinking with his father and then it was just a whole lot of blank
nothing. Groaning, he rolled over and stretched his hands out towards the
warmth of the fire. Once some heat had seeped back into his body, he sat up,
pushed his red hair out of his face, and looked around. The Christmas tree was
still up and as brightly lit as ever and there were no signs of New Years
decorations yet. The sun was just beginning to peep through the low windows and
the house was quiet.
So Axel discerned that he hadn’t been out that long and it was early.
Groaning, Axel moved closer to the fireplace and stretched until his spine
popped. There was a scrap of torn and singed fabric lying on the floor and
something had dried on the hardwood. Was it spilled liquor or blood? Axel began
to wonder what he had gotten up to last night. He couldn’t remember anything—it
was just a blacked-out blur.
Surely, Chives had checked on him and knew what had happened so he would have
to track the butler down later and get him to spill the beans, but until then…
Grumbling, Axel brushed himself off, did his best to smooth out his wrinkled
clothes, and cracked his neck. Jeez, he should really stop trying to out-drink
his father. When was he going to learn that he always wound up passed out on
the floor and woke up stiff and unhappy? He just couldn’t out-drink his old man
no matter how hard he tried or how he prepared.
Axel moped his way into the deserted kitchen and found Luxord sitting at the
table, looking incredibly perky and drinking black coffee. Axel froze at the
sight of his father. Luxord was a late-sleeper yet he was cheerfully awake so
how long had Axel really been passed out?
“It’s not what you think,” Luxord told his son with a smile. “I simply woke up
very early. It’s Christmas after all.”
Axel sighed in relief. “That’s good,” he said and poured himself a mug of
coffee.
“You still drink it black?” Luxord asked.
He nodded as he took a sip. “Yeah. Sometimes with a little cream or rum, but
not often.”
“Ah, you get that from me.”
“It’s the only thing I get from you,” Axel said and sat down at the table
across from his father.
For a moment, Luxord just stared at his son with his blue eyes flashing like a
deck of cards being shuffled. Then, he forced a weak little smile. “Axel, I’ll
never quite understand the appeal that slaves have for you—especially the
men—but if it makes you happy, then I’m happy,” he said and cupped his hands
around his warm mug. “And it seems to really make you happy, as I witnessed
last night.”
Axel’s heart skipped a beat, but he tried to be casual. “What do you mean?” he
asked as he took a small sip of coffee.
Luxord sipped his coffee. “Well, after you had a few drinks, you got a little
wild and had a go at Roxy.”
Axel’s eyes widened and he choked on the coffee in his mouth, spewing and
hacking for a long moment. “What?” he repeated.
“Well, son, you tend to tipple just a little too much and fall in love with
everyone and you’re not the most modest person to begin with.”
“What did I do to Roxas-y-y?” Axel stuttered.
Luxord eyed him.
“I mean, what did I do to Roxy?”
His father sipped his coffee, as if deliberating, and Axel’s heart began to
race. “Well, son, I’m not entirely sure what word you’d like me to use since
you’re so against profanity when it involves certain things.”
“Oh god,” Axel whispered and put his head between his knees.
“What’s troubling you? She’s your slave, isn’t she? Weren’t you intending to
fuck her?”
“Yes,” Axel choked out. “But not now. He—she was afraid and I promised that I
wouldn’t touch her.”
Luxord rolled his shoulders. “She’s a slave. What’s it matter?” He set down his
mug with a light tap. “How about opening your father’s present?”
“I have to go talk to Roxy,” Axel forced out.
“She’s hurting. You fucked her hard. Just let her sleep.”
Suddenly, a light bulb went on inside Axel’s skull and he lifted his head to
look at his father. “Wait, if you watched me use her…” he eyed his father
closely. “Isn’t there something else you want to say to me?”
It was in that instant that Luxord realized he had been caught. His poker face
slid across his expression like a mask and he sipped his coffee as he played
for time.
“Dad,” Axel said firmly.
Luxord grinned wickedly. “I see now why you like the boys, Axel.”
His green eyes widened. “No,” he breathed. “You didn’t…”
“I did.” Luxord nodded and stroked his fingers against his neatly-trimmed
beard. “He was the tightest fuck I’ve ever had and he was beautiful lying there
beneath me. Oh! So beautiful with his face all full of tears and pain… It was
delicious.”
“B-but you… you like women!” Axel protested, unable to believe what he was
hearing.
Luxord swirled his remaining coffee around the bottom of the mug. “Yes, I do,
and when I started my advances on your pretty little slut after you passed out,
I thought the kid was a girl. But once I stripped him naked, I realized what a
beautiful little boy you had found at the Puppy Mill. I just had to try his ass
out for myself. After all, you seem to enjoy the boys more than I enjoy women.
There must have been something to it and there was, son. God, he was so tight!”
Axel put his head between his knees and a cold sweat broke out across the back
of his neck. “Dad, how could you? Didn’t he tell you to stop?”
“Oh yes,” Luxord murmured. “He begged me and cried and screamed so loud when I
plunged into him. I’m very surprised that it didn’t wake you from your stupor.”
Half-jointed images of Roxas being violated flashed through Axel’s head. Had
Roxas reached out for Axel, begging to be saved? Had Luxord used an object on
his small body first? Had he bled or had he been prepared? Then, despite
everything, Axel wondered what kind of expression Roxas wore while he was being
raped. How would his body look spread on the floor and flushed with use? What
temperature would his skin be? What did his face look like flushed with tears
and desperate and in pain? Axel wanted to see Roxas’s expression.
Abruptly, Axel leaped to his feet and rushed to the sink just as his body was
wracked with dry heaves. His stomach was empty and all the liquor had been
burned away. Wiping his dry mouth with the back of his hand, Axel turned
sharply to his father and snapped, “Get out, Dad.”
Luxord’s eyes widened and he stood up from the table. “What did you say?”
“Get out, Father,” Axel repeated.
“Why?” he demanded. “Was the kid a virgin? I’ll buy you a new one.”
“It doesn’t matter. Get out!” Axel took the empty mug from his father and set
it down on the table firmly. “Get out.”
Luxord grinned and stretched out his hands placatingly. “Axel, I’m your father.
You can’t throw your father out on Christmas morning.”
“You violated my property. Get out, Father.”
Luxord laughed and backed towards the door. “Have it your way, son,” he said.
“Have it your way.”
“Chives!” Axel shouted and the butler appeared as if he had been waiting in the
wings. His black tailcoat was neatly-pressed and he wore crisp white gloves yet
the expression on his face was not nearly so collected. He looked disturbed and
troubled. “Chives, please collect my father’s things and escort him out. He is
no longer welcome here.”
“Sir?” the butler repeated, but he looked more pleased than shocked.
Axel pinned Chives down with his bright green eyes. “Did you know what
happened?”
Chives lowered his gaze and nodded. “There was nothing I could do, young
master. Forgive me.”
“Get him out of here,” Axel ordered, folding his arms tightly over his chest.
“And call Riku.”
“Yes sir.”
Within a few minutes, Luxord was standing in the threshold of the front door.
He tipped his hat as if he had done nothing to deserve to be thrown out on
Christmas morning. He was still smiling even now. “Ruthless,” he said to Axel.
“Just as I would expect the heir to my business to be.”
“Wait,” Axel said suddenly. “Tell me one thing… You raped that boy and you lied
to me about it. You told me that I did it even though you knew it would bother
me. Do you regret what you did?”
Luxord’s flinty eyes laughed at Axel. “No,” he said. “Your precious fag rag is
nothing more than property, Axel. It’s as if you were condemning me for jerking
off into a paper towel. Slaves are nothing. They are only holes to be used and
discarded,” he grinned, “just like paper towels.”
“Get out,” Axel hissed.
With a light chuckle, Luxord waved farewell and was gone from the house. Axel
watched as his father climbed into his snow-covered car, turned over the
engine, and cruised away down the driveway. Chives tucked in against his elbow
cautiously. The butler watched closely in case something happened between
father and son. As soon as Luxord was gone, Axel slammed the door as hard as he
could. The windowpane rattled and the sound echoed loudly through the quiet
house.
“What will you do now?” Chives asked after a moment.
Axel turned away from the door and forced himself to take a deep breath. “I
have to talk to Roxas,” he said and raked his hands through his tangled red
hair.
“Do you still want me to call Riku?” the butler asked.
Axel froze in his tracks and then shook his head. “No, not yet. Let me… let me
try to talk to him first.”
“Yes sir,” Chives said softly.
“And Chives?”
“Yes?”
“From now on,” Axel said softly, “you can interfere when things like that
happen. I don’t care. If I’m drunk, if my father comes back, if anyone tries to
touch Roxas against his will, you can stop them. It doesn’t matter who it is,
Chives.”
“Yes sir. Thank you.”
Chives had served the Inferno family for a long time, first under Luxord and
then under Axel. He had seen his fair share of bad things. He had been there
after the death of Axel’s mother when Luxord had forced the child to grow up
too quickly. He had seen Luxord abusing female slaves, raping them endlessly,
and discarding them just as he had said. Then, he had watched Axel, though
usually kind, whip Cloud. He had watched Axel go into a rage, breaking things
and bleeding, when Cloud ran away.
Yet watching Luxord violate that poor child had been the hardest thing he had
ever had to witness and turn a blind eye to.
…
Axel hesitated outside of Roxas’s bedroom even though the door was unlocked and
it was opened a sliver. Inside the room, it was silent, but he still didn’t
want to knock or even enter. He dreaded what he would find. For the first time,
Axel was afraid of what he would find in his father’s wake. He had seen the
things his father’s sexual appetite was capable of—he had grown up in a house
where female slaves weren’t allowed to wear clothing simply so Luxord could
take them at a moment’s notice.
Axel’s hands clenched into fists. If only he had never gotten drunk last night,
he could have stopped this from happening!
He shook himself. No, he couldn’t start thinking that way. He would start
second-guessing everything he had ever done if he started down the path of ‘If
only’s…’ If only his mother had lived longer, if only he wasn’t gay, if only he
still had Cloud, if only he hadn’t gotten drunk last night…
He knocked lightly on the door, but there was no answer.
He knocked again, calling, “Roxas, I’m coming in.”
Then, he opened the door.
                                     X X X
Oh boy, what is Roxas’s reaction to Axel going to be?
Questions, comments, concerns?
Hmm, people?
***** Aftershock: Christmas *****
I’m not sure why everyone thought the last chapter was so short. It was the
same length as all the other chapters, between 2 and 3,000 words. I think it
was just the wait that killed you guys.
Holy reviews, Batman! There were fifteen reviews for the last chapter so you
all deserved a fast update!
                                     X X X
Recently violated by Axel’s jackass father, the fifteen-year-old boy was
nowhere to be seen in the bedroom, but Axel could hear him. He could hear Roxas
crying quietly, muted, as though he was trying in vain to muffle the sounds. It
sounded as if his heart and body had been broken. Anguish filled every sharp
inhale, shuddering exhalation, and painful wracking sob.
“Roxas,” Axel gently pleaded from his position in the middle of the room.
“Please, come out. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m so sorry about what
happened.”
As Axel had expected, the boy did not emerge from his hiding place. Listening
closely, Axel cautiously searched the room. Even though he suspected Roxas was
hiding under the bed, he first looked in the closet and behind the shower
curtain in the bathroom. He had hoped that by the time he returned to the
bedroom, Roxas would have found the courage to emerge from beneath the bed, but
Axel had no such luck. With a heavy regretful sigh, Axel crouched down beside
the bed and peered beneath it.
Roxas was there.
He had slipped beneath the frame and curled up in the fetal position. He was
naked and crying quietly into his hands. Occasionally, a hideous shuddering sob
would escape him and his entire body trembled violently. Fresh bruises marred
his wrists, ankles, and hips. Blood streaked across the hardwood floor beneath
the bed, but most of it was dried. His blue eyes were wide and tragic, red-
rimmed and bloodshot.
Axel returned to the bathroom, started a bath for the poor boy, and fetched a
fluffy towel. He laid it on the neatly-made bed and reached under the piece of
furniture towards Roxas. The boy whimpered and flinched back further against
the wall, but there was nowhere for him to escape to. He stretched out his
hands to ward off his master and tears slid down his pale face.
Gently, Axel gripped the boy’s forearm and dragged Roxas out from under the
bed. Roxas struggled lightly, thrashing weakly in Axel’s grasp, but Axel
continued to pull him forward. Axel knew no amount of coaxing would get the kid
out from under the bed anyway. Once he managed to pull Roxas most of the way
out from beneath the bed, Axel wrapped the boy’s naked body in the towel and
held him tightly to his chest so he couldn’t crawl back under the bed.
Axel sat down on the plush bed and held the boy in his lap comfortingly. Roxas
squirmed in Axel’s embrace, whimpering and pleading a slew of wordless
nonsense. Axel rubbed Roxas’s shivering back, warming him up as best he could.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again.
Roxas flinched as if he had been brutally stabbed and a whimper escaped his
chapped mouth.
“I am. I never meant for that to happen,” Axel insisted.
Roxas squirmed and wrapped his thin arms around his body. He appeared to
realize that he had been wrapped in a towel and hugged it close.
“I really am sorry, Roxas,” Axel whispered into the boy’s hair. “Please,
forgive me.”
Roxas didn’t speak. In fact, he was barely breathing.
Axel sighed heavily and stroked Roxas’s pale gently. “My father doesn’t like
boys, really,” he murmured. “I don’t know why he would have done that to you.”
A tiny whimper escaped Roxas’s lips.
“I had thought that dressing you as a girl would protect you, but… I think I
condemned you instead.”
Still, Roxas said nothing. A tremor ran through his small naked body.
“Please, talk to me,” Axel whispered. “Please.”
Roxas shook his head and tears wove slow trails down his pale cheeks.
Axel sighed, gathered the boy up in his arms, and carried him to the bathroom.
Towel and all, Axel set Roxas into the warm water. Immediately, Roxas adjusted
the towel so that his entire body was hidden from view. Then, he curled tightly
against the side of the tub and turned his face away from Axel. Water sloshed
against the side of the large porcelain tub and Axel realized just how badly
Roxas was shivering. He knelt beside the tub and dipped his fingers in to test
the temperature of the water. It was contentedly warm so that couldn’t be why
Roxas was shivering.
“Please,” Axel whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Still, Roxas wouldn’t speak and Axel had a feeling he’d really blown it.
Actions occasionally spoke louder than words. With a soft breath, Axel dumped
some shampoo into his hand, poured a cup of warm water over Roxas’s head, and
began to lather the soft blonde tresses gently. He massaged Roxas’s scalp and
the back of his neck until some of the tension melted away. Then, carefully
slipping his soapy hands beneath the towel, he worked his thumbs into Roxas’s
stone-hard shoulders. God, the kid was so tense and still trembling slightly
like a bird. Axel rubbed his thumbs into the knotted muscles, working out his
frustration.
How could his father have raped Roxas? The boy was so thin and small, so
vulnerable and fragile. Axel’s hands stopped moving as he stewed in his rage.
“Please,” Roxas whispered suddenly. His voice was so weak and frail that Axel
almost didn’t hear it. “Please…”
“What?”
Roxas jolted and the water sloshed over the rim of the tub violently. Had he
not realized that he had been speaking?
“What do you want, Roxas? Just name it,” Axel pleaded. “I’ll give you anything
you want.”
Those beautiful blue eyes lifted to Axel’s face and overflowed with tears.
Then, Roxas wiped his face with his wet hand and sobbed brokenly.
“Please, anything you want, Roxas,” Axel insisted.
“Can I… can I please just be alone?” he whispered softly, pleadingly.
Axel felt as if he had been punched in the gut, but what had he expected? His
father had raped Roxas just last night while Axel was passed out drunk. Dear
God, Axel suddenly wondered how close he had been to Roxas while he was being
raped. What if his father had raped the boy on top of Axel while he was in his
drunken stupor? Axel never would have known…
“I’m going to be sick,” Axel choked out and sat down heavily on his ass,
putting his head between his knees and breathing deeply.
“I’m sorry,” Roxas whispered and his knuckles whitened over the edge of the
tub. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t…”
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’ll go, right now,” Axel said and
staggered to his feet.
Axel slammed the bathroom door behind him and sat down on the bed. He put his
head between his knees again and tried to focus on breathing deeply. He had
failed so terribly at the only thing he had promised Roxas. He had promised
that he wouldn’t be hurt and Luxord had fucking raped him! Axel sucked in some
air, trying to calm himself down. Why did the thought of something bad
happening to Roxas make him feel so sick? Was it only because the boy was so
young and so hurt? Or was it something more?
…
Roxas slouched deeper in the warm water and wrapped the submerged towel tightly
around his body. He shuddered, clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering,
and drew his thin legs tightly against his chest. He rested his forehead on his
knees, breathing heavily. God, his heart was racing.
When his master had come into the room, he thought for certain it was Luxord
coming to rape him again.
A small cry escaped Roxas and he pressed his knuckles to his mouth, biting hard
to prevent the sounds from escaping. The bathroom was too loud, echoing the
small sounds he made and the sloshing of the water as he shivered. What was he
going to do? If he stayed here, he would be violently raped by Luxord and
eventually by Axel, but it wasn’t as if he could run away. No one would ever
help him if he tried. He sighed heavily and sucked in air as if the right to
breathe was going to be denied him again.
But… was it so bad to stay here?
At least here, he would be warm and fed and allowed to sleep in a real bed and
wear clothing even if it didn’t fit quite right. So what if his master raped
him? It wasn’t as if he was a virgin or if it hadn’t happened to him before. He
was used to being violated. It wasn’t anything new. In fact, he couldn’t even
remember how old he had been when his body had first been violated. He knew he
had been taken at the age of ten at least, but had he been raped before that?
He struggled away from the black void of those memories.
The pros of staying here greatly outweighed the cons.
But Roxas had a feeling he had greatly screwed things up by hiding under the
bed and asking his master to leave him alone. He had to do something to fix
what he had done so Axel wouldn’t send him back to the Puppy Mill. But what
could he do? He glanced at the pale shape of his body vaguely reflected in the
steam-covered mirror and sighed heavily. His only remaining worldly
possession—his body—could usually earn him forgiveness. If he gave his body to
his masters, he could be forgiven for everything from eating when he wasn’t
allowed to breaking an expensive dish.
With the water sloshing and the towel slapping wetly over the edge of the tub,
Roxas stepped from the water and stood on the small bathmat. He shivered in the
cool air as he searched for another towel in the cabinet under the sink. After
drying himself off, he wiped a place on the mirror and looked at his face
through the circle of steam. There were dark bruises under his blue eyes, his
mouth was painfully chapped, and his cheeks were as pale as a fish’s belly. He
pinched some color into his cheeks and smoothed back his wet hair.
He wasn’t a woman. He had no idea how to seduce, but he had tried before and it
never seemed to take much. He must really be beautiful…
With shaking hands, he folded the damp towel, laid it aside on the vanity, and
hesitated at the door. He took a deep breath to steady himself, forced his
hands to stop shaking, and opened the door in a waft of steam. Immediately, the
cold air cut through his frail body, but he was utterly silent and his master
didn’t even look up from his position on the bed. Silently, Roxas crossed the
room, hesitated a moment before Axel, listened to the man’s heavy breathing,
and steeled himself.
Swiftly, he dropped to his knees, tucked himself beneath Axel’s arms, wrapped
his hands around his master’s waist, and buried his face into the larger man’s
crotch.
Axel jolted and immediately tried to push Roxas back. “What are you—?” he
sputtered out.
Roxas squeezed tighter and rubbed his cheeks against the bulge developing
behind Axel’s jeans. “Please,” he begged. “Please, I want you to fuck me.
Please.”
Axel’s heart lurched in his chest. God, this was just like his dream the other
night. Could it really have been a premonition of things to come? Desperately,
he tried to push Roxas back, to peel him away from his hardening cock, but the
boy hung on desperately. He opened his mouth against the hardness behind the
jeans and breathed hotly against the material. Axel shuddered and goose bumps
broke out all over his bare arms.
“Stop!” Axel ordered and tried to gently push Roxas away.
Roxas’s naked back shuddered, but he didn’t appear to hear his master. Instead,
his fingers clutched into the waistband of Axel’s jeans and pulled fiercely
even though his body was so small and frail. His small fingers dipped into
Axel’s pants, cold and trembling.
“Stop!” Axel shouted. This time, he shoved Roxas back hard.
Roxas crashed backwards, his naked body skidded on the cold floor, and his head
collided with the nightstand. A whimper of agony escaped the boy’s mouth and he
curled up tightly, cradling the back of his head with both hands. Tears flooded
his eyes and dripped down his face.
Quickly, Axel pulled the blankets off the bed and swathed Roxas’s nudity within
them. “What are you thinking, Roxas?” he whispered. “Why would you try that?”
Roxas sobbed behind his thin fingers. “I… I don’t want you to get rid of me.”
“What would give you that idea?” Axel breathed out and gently rubbed Roxas’s
back through the thick blankets.
“H-he said that you liked it tight and if he had me, you wouldn’t want me
anymore,” Roxas whispered. “You were never supposed to find out what he did to
me.”
Axel’s green eyes widened sharply. “You were going to keep what my father did
to you a secret?”
Roxas nodded and his red-rimmed eyes welled with fresh tears. “I had to. I
don’t want to go back. Please, don’t send me back.” Axel couldn’t find his
voice so Roxas kept on talking. “I don’t care what you do to my body. Fuck me
as much as you desire, Master, just please, don’t get rid of me.”
“Y-you want to stay?” Axel whispered.
Roxas nodded tremulously.
“Why?” Axel asked.
The boy hesitated and then confessed, “Because… you feed me and it’s warm here
and let me sleep in a real bed and wear clothes…”
Roxas seemed at risk to go on forever so Axel cut him off. “Roxas, do you
remember what I told you?”
He nodded and twisted his fingers in the blankets. “I am a… dog…”
Axel winced and wished that he could have chosen a better example, but at least
Roxas remembered. “Yeah,” he murmured in agreement.
“But your father,” Roxas hesitated, tripping over his words, “raped me. Would
he have raped your pet?”
Axel closed his eyes tightly and fought back the emotion welling in his eyes.
For a moment, he struggled and then dropped to his knees on the floor with
Roxas. Without thinking, he pulled Roxas’s small cold body flush against his
own and just hugged him. He wanted to hold him so close that the boy would be
drawn inside his body and be protected forever from everything in the outside
world.
Cloud had been hurt when Axel bought him, too, but he never felt this
protective of Cloud. Cloud could take care of himself. Cloud could fight, but
Roxas…
“Master?” Roxas whispered in a small trembling voice.
“I’m sorry, Roxas. What happened to you—what my father did to you—I will never
let it happen again!” Axel told the boy firmly.
Roxas’s thin cold fingers clutched his shirt and he tried to struggle out of
the embrace, but Axel wouldn’t let him go. “Why?” Roxas whispered. His voice
broke with sobs and his entire body was wracked with them. “Why do you care
what he did to me? Is it because I’m your property? Did you want to fuck me
first?”
Axel shook his head, pressed Roxas closer, and stroked the boy’s silky blonde
hair. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop!” Roxas screamed and suddenly he fought his way out of Axel’s arms.
Stumbling, he fled to the other side of the room and stood there, trembling in
the cocoon of blankets. “Stop saying that to me! You don’t mean it! You’re
going to hurt me! Just like everyone else!”
“Roxas—”
“No! Stop it! Stop lying to me!”
“Please—”
“Stop it! Stop saying that to me!”
“Wait—”
“Stop it! Just, please, stop it!”
Axel grabbed Roxas and held him tightly against his chest until he had shouted
himself out. Exhausted, Roxas slumped in Axel’s arms and breathed heavily
against his master’s neck. He began to tremble and didn’t stop for a long time.
Eventually, Axel returned Roxas to the bathroom and helped him towel-dry his
hair while the boy sat silently on the vanity like a doll. Then, Axel shuffled
him into a robe and perched on the edge of the tub. He silently watched Roxas
for a long moment. The boy kept his eyes downcast on the floor, his lips
trembled, and a single tear slid down his cheek.
Roxas closed his eyes and slowly whispered, “You’re going to… send me back,
aren’t you?”
Axel breathed out lightly and rubbed his palms on his jeans. The image of Roxas
kneeling between his legs, his pretty face pressed into Axel’s groin, flashed
through his mind like a bomb going off. “No,” he said quickly. “I’m not.”
“Why not?” the boy whispered.
“Because… I want to help you.”
“Why?”
Axel smiled softly. “Because…” He approached Roxas and cupped the boy’s face
gently, angling his chin so he could look into those beautiful blue eyes. “You
deserve to be helped,” he whispered. Then, gently, he kissed Roxas’s lips and
felt the boy go ramrod straight beneath his fingers.
                                     X X X
Oh boy, what has Axel done now? He’s really in trouble.
Questions, comments, concerns? Suggestions?
So, I updated this quickly because there were fifteen reviews for the previous
chapter. I wonder how quickly I would update if there were more…?
***** Axel's First Plan *****
Well, chapter thirteen drew in fifteen reviews within hours. The previous
chapter… not so much… Guess this is all crap and I can toss it.
                                     X X X
Axel pulled sharply away when he felt Roxas turn to stone beneath his softly-
pressing lips. He knew immediately that he had done something very wrong, but
Roxas didn’t move or speak. Acceptingly, he just sat on the bathroom vanity
before Axel, naked beneath the robe and shivering slightly. Surely, he expected
this to go farther than just a kiss, but he knew there was nothing he could do
to stop it. He was only a slave, owned body and soul by his master.
“I’m so sorry,” Axel breathed out.
Roxas looked away.
“Can I make it up to you?” he whispered.
The boy wet his chapped lips. “I… am your dog, right?”
Axel couldn’t find the words to speak. Without a sound, he moved backwards from
Roxas, tripped over the bathroom threshold, and left the room that used to be
Cloud’s. He left Roxas alone and naked and probably feeling even more violated.
Axel decided this day was unsalvageable and it was time he found a new way to
rescue Roxas.
Axel dug his cell phone out of his pocket and put in a call to Xion. “Hey,
before you say anything, I know it’s early and I know it’s Christmas,” Axel
said before his friend could start growling at him. As much as Axel hated the
cold, Xion hated to be woken up. “But I need your help, Xion.”
“Oh please,” she said in a tired-but-awake voice. “It’s Christmas morning and I
have seven younger siblings. I’ve been up for hours, but I’m busy. I’m on my
way out the door with Namine, Sora, and Kairi. We have to pick up batteries
because Dad didn’t plan ahead.”
“Can you meet me somewhere?” Axel continued. “It’s important.”
“If you’ve killed someone, you can borrow the trunk of my car and my shovel,”
she told him. Then, her voice turned away from the phone. “Sora, I told you
twice that you’re not sitting up front. Namine is, so just get in the back and
put on your seatbelt already.” A high-pitched voice complained in the
background and Xion continued, “Guess how much I care? I’m way more than seven
minutes older than you so you can either get in the backseat or get in the
trunk with whoever Axel killed.”
“It’s not that,” Axel interrupted.
Xion groaned and Axel sensed her trying to stifle her urge to curse at both her
younger siblings and her best friend. “Fine,” she said. “Meet me and the kids
at Pablo’s. You’re buying breakfast and a pot of coffee and then I’ll help you
with whatever you want.”
“It’s a deal.”
“Sora! What is wrong with you this morning? Get in the car and shut up
already,” Xion snapped.
Sharply, she hung up with a click and Axel was left listening to dead air. With
a small sigh and a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat from the rack, told
Chives not to call Riku, bid the butler goodbye, and plowed out into the snowy
and cold Christmas morning. He turned and looked back at his beautiful house.
He found Roxas’s window, but it was empty of Roxas. Hopefully, the kid wasn’t
hiding naked under the bed again, but Axel had no way of knowing.
…
After Axel left to meet with Xion, Chives prepared a nice breakfast of hot
green tea, toast slathered in thick butter and jelly, and some freshly sliced
strawberries. This, he carried upstairs on a small tray and knocked lightly on
the door of the room that used to be Cloud’s. There was a long moment of
silence on the other side of the door.
“C-come in,” a small timid voice finally whispered.
Chives slid back the lock, entered, and set the tray of breakfast down on the
bed beside the poor child. Roxas wrapped himself up in layer after layer of
Cloud’s too-big clothing and a damp robe, but was still shivering. His thin
wrists and ankles were bruised, his face was ghostly-pale, and his lips
trembled. Chives pressed the cup of hot tea into his freezing hands and
encouraged him to drink wordlessly.
When Roxas finally took a grateful sip, Chives said softly, “I’m sorry about
what happened to you last night. I wanted to help, but my hands were tied.”
Roxas shuddered, but he nodded in understanding. “At least you didn’t join in
like he wanted you to.”
“I could never have done that,” Chives assured the boy.
Roxas forced an uneasy smile. “That’s nice,” he murmured. “I think you’re the
first person not to join in when asked.”
Chives felt sick as he stared at Roxas’s small beaten body. He recalled the
sound of Roxas screaming in anguish and images from the night before
accompanied the memories. Luxord was so much bigger than Roxas, thrusting into
his tiny body with all the force he could muster. His face had been flushed
with pain, streaked with tears, his mouth opened in a howling scream. Bruises
still marked his pale skin and Chives had heard about the string of beads that
had been found inside Roxas’s body. This poor child…
Chives was so happy that Axel had purchased this boy’s life and saved him from
the Puppy Mill. Gently, he put his hand on Roxas’s shoulder, but the boy shied
away. “You should eat and try to relax. Axel is a brute, but he doesn’t wish to
hurt you.”
Roxas met Chives’s eyes with hope that was painful. “Really?”
“What have you been to your other masters?” Chives asked. Though he dreaded the
answer, he knew exactly what to say to it.
A tear swelled on Roxas’s thick pale lashes. “Just a hole,” he whispered and
bit his lip.
Chives patted his back. “And to Axel, you are a pet. He won’t hurt you, Roxas.”
With that, the butler turned to leave.
“Wait,” Roxas whispered suddenly. “You said your hands were tied, what did you
mean?”
“I am usually not permitted to interfere with Axel or his father, but after
what happened to you, Axel gave that permission to me,” Chives explained.
Roxas’s eyes widened. “R-really? You mean…?”
Chives smiled lightly. “Yes,” he assured the boy. “Even if it is the master
hurting you, I can interfere and stop him.”
A small smile pulled at Roxas’s lips and his shoulders slumped with relief.
“Does that make you feel better?” Chives asked.
“It shouldn’t,” Roxas confessed, “but it does.”
“Good,” Chives said and left the bedroom. He closed the door at his back and
slid the lock into place once again. “Cloud,” he murmured as he stared at the
hastily-installed lock. “Why did you run away? You couldn’t have known that
Axel would buy this child, but what would make you run?”
…
Axel arrived several minutes before Xion and snagged a large booth in the
corner of Pablo’s. Then, he waited with his eyes on the window. Xion pulled up
in her little silver car, unloaded her three siblings, and half-dragged half-
led them into the building. Xion looked like she shouldn’t have been woken up
for at least eight more hours and Axel almost felt bad for his part of dragging
her out of bed so early on Christmas morning.
“Sit down,” Xion said sternly to her siblings.
She gave Sora a push towards the booth. He made a face at his sister and stuck
out his tongue.
“You’ll go in the trunk,” Xion said shortly. “I mean it.”
Sora slid in first and sat against the wall, Kairi followed after her brother,
and Namine sat on the outside edge. Then, Xion slid in beside Axel and wrapped
her hands gratefully around a mug of coffee. Axel caught the attention of a
passing waitress and ordered three hot chocolates heaped with whipped cream for
Xion’s siblings.
Namine was Axel’s favorite of Xion’s siblings. She was a beautiful child with
Sleeping-Beauty-blonde hair, a soft sweet voice, and a personality as lovely as
Mona Lisa’s smile. She had the talent of Da Vinci to go along with her looks.
As stunning as she was, she was a talented artist and her sketchpad was never
far from her hands.
“What are you drawing today, Namine?” Axel asked her as Xion drained her coffee
mug.
She turned her sketchpad and showed him a stunning portrait of the Christmas
tree that was surely standing in the parlor at her home. On a few of the
following pages, she had drawn several presents and the fireplace. “Just some
images of the holidays,” she told him.
“Fantastic,” Axel said with a grin.
Sora and Kairi were fraternal twins, inseparable. Both were equally beautiful
with the most stunning blue eyes, but today their eyes reminded Axel painfully
of Roxas’s mournful abyssal gaze. Sora and Kairi were both seven and Axel
didn’t want to think about everything Roxas would have gone through by age
seven. Had Roxas even been a virgin at that age or had he already been used?
Axel shook himself and asked them both, “Did you get something good for
Christmas?”
“Oh yeah,” Sora said eagerly.
Kairi nodded as well, but neither of them elaborated.
After Xion sucked down half a pot of coffee, some light started to come back to
her face. Setting down her mug with a sigh, she turned her attention back to
Axel and asked, “So, what’s the big emergency? I doubt you’d go out in this
weather if you didn’t need something serious.”
Axel wet his lips. “I can’t give you back your wig or your dress. I hope they
weren’t your favorites. I’ll try to replace them,” he began.
Xion’s eyes slid to her siblings and then back to Axel’s with concern. “It
didn’t work, did it? That Luxord is a… you-know-what.”
“It’s worse than that,” Axel murmured and nodded slightly to tell her that he
knew to pay attention to what he said in front of her younger siblings.
Xion’s caramel-colored face paled and she pressed her fingers together. “What
happened?”
“I got drunk,” he said, “and passed out.”
“You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?” she murmured quietly.
Axel shook his head and tucked his fingers through his red hair. “No, but
Luxord…” He glanced at her siblings who were eagerly licking the whipped cream
from their hot chocolates. “Luxord took advantage of Roxas while I was
unconscious.”
Xion had been stirring sugar into her coffee, but her spoon knocked loudly into
the side of her mug and hot coffee sloshed over the side. “Crap,” she cursed
and quickly began mopping up the spill. Quietly, she whispered, “What? But
Roxas is a boy! I thought your father only liked girls.”
Axel shook his head. “It didn’t matter. He’s too beautiful and Luxord… my
father—!” He cut himself off and slammed his fists down on the table.
Xion’s siblings all stared at him with varying shades of beautiful blue eyes.
Everyone else in Pablo’s turned to look at them curiously and Xion gave them
all an uneasy everything’s-okay-here smile, waved away the waitress, and turned
her attention back to Axel and her siblings.
“It’s alright,” Xion said gently. “Axel is just a little upset.” A moment
passed as the horrible news sunk in and she whispered, “How did this happen?
What did you do? Is he okay? Dear god, what now?”
“I don’t know,” Axel whispered. “And to make matters worse, I kissed him this
morning.”
Sora looked like he was considering responding in usual seven-year-old fashion
by saying, ‘Eeeewww’ so Xion silenced him with a look.
She pushed her fingers through her dark hair and stared down into her mug of
coffee. “God, Axel!”
“I know…” he murmured.
The two friends sat in silence for a long moment. Xion drank her coffee like
all the caffeine she had previously inhaled had left her and Axel just sat
there next to her in the cracked vinyl booth, stewing in what he had done and
what had happened. Sora, Kairi, and Namine continued to enjoy their hot
chocolate as they chattered happily to each other. It did Axel’s heart a little
good to see the children so happy. It was Christmas, he tried to remind
himself.
“So,” Xion asked finally. “What are you going to do, Axel?”
“I don’t know,” Axel murmured and pushed his hands through his thick hair.
They sat quietly at the table and Xion leaned across the table to tuck Kairi’s
hair behind her ear. She was wearing a pretty pair of butterfly earrings and
Sora smiled at his sisters. Axel watched Xion and her siblings together. Namine
was still busily drawing and Axel noticed she was drawing Kairi in profile,
adding impressive detail to Kairi’s earrings.
“That’s very pretty,” Axel remarked to both of them.
“Thank you,” Kairi said with a little giggle.
Namine nodded and said, “Our mom got those for her from Christmas.”
“I hope you bought presents, too, Axel,” Sora chimed in with a wicked grin.
“Sora,” Xion scolded. “Don’t you think you got quite enough presents?”
“There’s no such thing as too many presents,” Namine said authoritatively and
held up her newest charcoal pencil as proof. The brand-new thing was already
used to its halfway point and Namine was several pages into her new sketchbook.
Kairi touched her earrings gingerly, smiling beautifully.
Xion attempted to scold her younger siblings, but it was kind of like herding
cats.
Only half-listening to her, Axel’s green eyes widened slightly. “Presents,” he
murmured. After a certain age, presents became something that usually happened
in the background of Christmas. Axel chose instead to focus on the frigid
weather, the eggnog, and his father’s visit. He had practically forgotten all
about the biggest childhood tradition of Christmas.
“Axel?” Xion asked as she broke away from her attempt at parenting.
“You’ve given me an idea,” he said with a broad grin.
“What?” she continued.
“Check please,” he called to the waitress and handed her his card. “I’ll be
right back.”
Dumbfounded, Xion was left staring at Axel’s back as he scurried outside into
the snow, produced his cell phone from his vast pockets, and called someone.
After a moment of speaking, he grinned at Xion and gave her a thumbs up. Well,
whatever his plan was, it seemed to be working out and that was far more than
Xion could say for any of her own ideas. She might as well follow his lead
considering he was paying for breakfast.
“Hey Xion,” Axel said as he rejoined them at the table.
“Huh?” she asked and accepted a toy soldier that Sora handed her.
“I’m sorry for waking you up so early.”
“I told you already that I was up,” she said. “Did you think these jokers would
let me sleep in on Christmas?”
Sora and Kairi giggled between themselves.
Namine said with a dignified smile, “It’s against the law to sleep in on
Christmas. Daddy says so.”
Xion clapped Axel on the back. “No harm, no foul. So, tell me what this plan of
yours is!”
                                     X X X
A lot of people wanted to see Cloud come back and get with Leon. Though it’s
possible for Cloud to come back, you’re not going to see another detailed male
on male relationship in this story. I’m having enough trouble just with one.
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review! (Or death.)
***** The Greatest Gift *****
This chapter is for Susinko, who took the time to leave me a wonderfully
epically long review and even some suggestions!
                                     X X X
Several hours later, Axel Inferno barged his way in through the front door
along with a fantastic gust of cold and snow with both arms wrapped around a
large brightly-wrapped box. He set it gently down on the couch, called for
Chives, gave the butler a quick rundown of the situation, and together they
brought the rest of the presents inside. The entire car was filled to the brim
with gifts that had all been wrapped by Xion, her little siblings, and Axel.
Receipts tumbled everywhere in drifts.
“Goodness,” Chives remarked as Axel stacked several flat boxes in his arms. “It
looks like you had quite the shopping spree.”
“I did,” Axel said as he trudged through the snow to the trunk and began taking
boxes from there too. “And I bought Xion and her kids something for helping me
out. They were really great.”
“How so?” Chives accepted another stack of boxes and peered at Axel over the
bows.
“You know how Xion is,” Axel said as he slammed the trunk with his elbow.
“She’s certainly one of a kind,” Chives agreed.
Axel chuckled.
“So what’s all this for?” Chives asked Axel as they slogged up the stairs and
heaped the countless presents beneath the beautiful tree.
Axel panted out a sigh. “They’re presents,” he said.
Chives fixed him in place with a distinguished glare and straightened out his
uniform. “I can see that,” he said with thick dignity. “What is meant is why?”
Axel grinned cheekily and moved towards the box on the couch. He lifted the lid
a few inches and peered inside. “You’ll see,” he told Chives. “Now, will you go
get Roxas from Cloud’s room?”
“These are all for him, then?” Chives asked with a slight smile
Axel nodded and grinned wider. “Please, don’t spoil the surprise.”
Chives nodded and hustled upstairs to fetch the boy, smiling as he went.
Axel stood in front of the fire for a long moment and stomped his feet to warm
them up. God, he hated the cold. For a second, he thought about Cloud and
wondered if he was warm wherever he was. He hoped Cloud wasn’t out in the snow,
freezing to death.
Shaking those thoughts away, Axel sat down on the couch and tried to control
his breathing. He was incredibly excited. Hopefully, this would be the first
bricks in the bridge between himself and Roxas. Xion’s family was often crazy,
but they understood each other in a way not many other families could. They
were closer than Axel could ever hope to be with his own father.
…
Roxas’s mind was torn between two very different trains of reasoning as he
stood at the window, looking out at the falling snow. He knew he should try to
make his new master happy, even if it meant giving up his body—it wasn’t as if
he hadn’t given it up before. So long as he was here, he would be warm and fed
and as unhurt as someone like him would ever be. On the other hand, he didn’t
want to give his body to his master regardless. He hated being touched, being
spread open, being used and violated.
There was a light knock on the door that immediately jolted Roxas from his
thoughts. As the door swung open, Roxas turned from his position at the window.
He wet his lips nervously and looked at the feet of the butler. Though this
butler and the red-haired master had been kind to him so far, he was waiting
for the second sword to fall and sever his hopes.
“Come downstairs,” Chives said lightly with a smile that should have been
comforting. “The master has some presents for you.”
A ripple of fear raced through Roxas’s thin body as he followed Chives. The
only ‘presents’ he could ever remember receiving were cruel tortures—semen
stuffed down his throat as a meal, lube for his ass before be was reamed hard
and fast, and the occasional moldy scrap of food or a cold bath. Roxas clenched
his fingers to keep them from trembling.
But the moment he entered the living room at Chives’s heels, a few shards of
his fear abated. The tree was so big and beautiful with all the candied lights
and the angel tree-topper smiling benevolently. There were brightly-wrapped
boxes all over the living room. It looked like the sort of beautiful place
where nothing bad could happen. It didn’t look like a set-up for rape or a
beating, but Roxas had been deceived by appearances before.
Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck and he knotted his fingers in the
fabric of his robe. He hadn’t dared dress himself in any other clothes after
his master had kissed him and left hastily. He didn’t know if his master would
be coming back to use him so he had remained wearing only the robe Axel had
dressed him in. He shivered.
Then, Axel smiled brightly at the poor boy. “Come here, Roxas. I have something
great for you.”
Roxas’s heart raced and throbbed. He fought back the urge to throw himself at
his master’s feet and beg for mercy. He didn’t know yet if these two planned to
hurt him.
As if sensing his thoughts, Chives put a gentle hand in the small of Roxas’s
back and guided him forward towards Axel and the tree. The butler seated the
slave on the sofa beside the largest box and then stepped back to poke at the
warm fire in the grate.
Axel set the box in Roxas’s lap. “Open it!” he said eagerly and his green eyes
were as bright as jewels.
“Me?” Roxas breathed out. “But…”
Axel smiled and nodded encouragingly.
Desperately, Roxas looked from Axel to Chives and then down at the box in his
lap. Both of them were smiling at him like the benevolent angel on top of the
tree, but fear welled in Roxas’s body like blood. Suddenly, the box in his lap
moved a little bit. With a yelp, Roxas shoved the box away and leaped to his
feet.
Axel scrambled to grab the box and a sharp shriek escaped his mouth. “Whoa,
whoa,” he said. “Careful.”
“W-what is that?” Roxas gasped. He began backing away and his throat closed
down over a scream.
Axel set the box down on the floor gently. “Just open it.”
Roxas remained as far from the box as he could, trembling.
“Would I give you a present that would hurt you?” Axel asked.
Roxas didn’t answer. He stared at Axel with his deep blue eyes and the flash of
his throat as he nervously swallowed was enough of an answer.
“It won’t hurt you,” Axel said and fought back a bubble of nausea. God, this
kid had been hurt so badly. Did the cruelty of others know no bounds? “I
promise.”
Roxas nervously approached, knelt down, and lifted the lid. A ball of happy
fluff leaped out at him, yipping and barking. The blur bowled Roxas over with a
small yelp of surprise and a little bit of fear. Then, the cute puppy snuggled
in beneath Roxas’s chin and licked a small cut on his throat. The reaction
between Roxas and the puppy was instantaneous. Roxas cuddled it sweetly against
his chest, burying his face in the soft fur and smiling.
“Well, done, sir. Well done,” Chives said with thick dignity. He moved on to
arrange all the haphazard presents beneath the tree in an organized pile since
it seemed Roxas wouldn’t be moving on from the puppy for a long while.
Axel sat down on the couch and just watched Roxas with a smile. That sick
feeling that had been plaguing him ever since he bought Roxas began to abate a
little.
While they were shopping, Xion told Axel that ‘Nothing heals a broken heart
better than the unconditional love of a pet.’ Xion’s family had several dogs,
two cats, and even a small tank of tropical fish. As much as Xion loved her
family, she loved her pets almost as much. She would be heartbroken without her
cat and she hugged the sweet creature anytime she needed a little moral
support. With that in mind, Axel had purchased his final and most fantastic
present—a young golden retriever puppy.
…
Over the course of the next few hours, Roxas nervously opened the rest of the
presents with the puppy settled in his lap. As the colored paper was peeled
away, Roxas’s expression changed from fearful to awed and finally to genuine
happiness. He smiled at Axel as he opened each box and then dipped his head to
press kisses to the puppy’s soft fur. With Xion’s guidance, Axel had purchased
all kinds of clothes that would fit Roxas including a winter coat, a heavy
terrycloth robe, and thick fur-lined boots so he could go out in the snow.
“Thank you,” Roxas whispered as Chives cleared away the last shreds of the
colored paper.
Axel smiled and dropped a box on top of Roxas’s head. “Do you like everything?”
Roxas nodded and a little smile pulled at his lips. “Yes. Thank you. I’ve… I’ve
never received such… n-nice presents before,” he whispered. Though bad memories
flickered in Roxas’s eyes, he snuggled the puppy closer and the moment passed.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The puppy yipped softly in Roxas’s arms and stared up at both of them with big
honey-brown eyes.
“She’s a little girl,” Roxas whispered and stroked the puppy’s small body.
“She is,” Axel agreed.
“Can… can I name her?” Roxas asked softly without looking at his master.
“Of course,” Axel said lightly.
Roxas gazed at the puppy for a long moment and he smiled like an angel. “Can I
name her Cleo?” (1)
“You can call her whatever you want,” Axel assured.
“Cleo,” Roxas whispered again, cooing down at the sweet puppy.
“Why don’t you take her outside?” Axel asked.
“Can I go outside?” Roxas whispered. His eyes darted to the windows. It wasn’t
as if he had never been outside before, but he was usually made to stand naked
in the cold. He had never been able to enjoy the snow and his heart raced
eagerly with the thought that he might finally be able to.
“You’ll have to take Cleo out periodically,” Axel said smoothly, “but make sure
you put your coat on.”
“I will. May I go… now?” Roxas whispered and Cleo licked his small quivering
fingers.
“Sure. Just go upstairs and put some of your new clothes on first. You can’t go
out in that robe. Not even this winter coat will keep you warm if you do that,”
Axel said with a light chuckle.
Roxas flushed, thinking of his naked skin beneath the robe. He set Cleo down on
the floor, gathered some of his new clothes, and hurried upstairs to change.
“This has gone very well,” Chives remarked and came over to give the puppy some
attention. “I think he’s warming up to you.”
“Xion can be a genius,” Axel agreed and scratched the puppy’s belly.
“Hopefully, this will help Roxas come out of his shell.”
Chives nodded.
A few moments later, Roxas tripped down the stairs. Though the clothes were
still a little too big for his tiny frame, Roxas was a stunning image in the
brand-new clothing. The pale blue t-shirt complimented his pale skin and eyes,
the dark hooded sweater drew out the gold in his hair, and the loose-fitting
jeans accented his narrow hips if nothing else. He looked sheepish and
beautiful. Axel’s mouth ran dry and he must have been staring because Chives
slyly kicked him in the shin.
“Is this alright?” Roxas asked timidly and folded his fingers against his
sweater. His nails were ragged, but at least his hands had stopped shaking.
“May I go outside now?”
Axel nodded and held up the new coat for his small beaten gorgeous slave. “Here
you go.”
Roxas slipped into the coat as if he was afraid that Axel would grab him if he
got too close, which was closer to the truth than Axel wanted to admit. He was
painfully tempted to draw Roxas closer, kiss him until he couldn’t breathe,
then lay him down before the fire, and take him. Again, Chives’s foot collided
harshly with Axel’s shin.
If Roxas noticed this, he didn’t show it. He scooped up Cleo, cradled her close
to his chest, and headed outside into the cold. A little spot of golden sun
among the whiteness, Cleo happily bounded through the fresh powdery snow the
moment Roxas set her down, barking and howling.
Axel went to the window and studied Roxas.
Among the sparkling white crystals of snow and ice, Roxas looked as beautiful
and pale as a winter faerie. His pale hair and fair skin and bright cerulean
eyes blended right in with the wintry surroundings. If he hadn’t been wearing
clothes, he probably would have disappeared. Axel’s mouth watered at the
thought and he quickly chased those images away.
“He looks happy,” Chives remarked softly beside Axel.
Axel could only nod and his heart fluttered with warmth.
Outside in the snowy wonderland, Roxas smiled like he was making up for lost
time. His pale face glowed with the first true smile Axel had seen since he
bought the boy’s body and life. For a long time, Roxas stood outside in the
snow. He walked in slow circles with Cleo and called her name frequently so
that she bounded back to him eagerly with her tongue lolling out. Finally,
Roxas broke an icicle from the banister of the porch and licked it. His tongue
immediately stuck and his eyes widened with shock as he frantically tried to
free himself.
Axel chuckled.
…
Enjoying the icy breeze on his face, Roxas couldn’t believe his good fortune.
His new master had given him wonderful presents and lovely clothing. He was
breathing fresh air for the first in what felt like years. His life here could
be so… nice. It wouldn’t be perfect because he would have to give his body to
his master, but that wasn’t a new prospect for Roxas. But maybe, there was a
tiny sliver of hope that Axel wouldn’t use Roxas’s body. Axel considered him an
animal, a pet, and Roxas knew that wasn’t something that would stop everyone,
but maybe it would prevent his kind new master from raping him. Roxas was still
careful not to use the word ‘fuck’ in the hopes that his master would keep his
promise, but even if he didn’t… it didn’t matter.
Roxas was breathing fresh air after months of living trapped in their basement
and then in the Puppy Mill’s warehouses. He had clothes on his back and food in
his stomach for the first time in an eternity. The beads had finally been
removed from his body. Cleo was the most beautiful little creature he had ever
seen—he already loved her more than anything. He could have been happier, but
this was more happiness than he had ever known.
Cleo barked and gazed up at him with warm golden eyes.
Roxas crouched down in the snow to pet her. “Hi sweetie,” he whispered.
She licked his hand and then took a big mouthful of snow. She looked so happy
with the flavor that he was tempted to try some as well, but he didn’t because
he could feel his master’s eyes burning into his back from the window. This all
felt too good to be true, like a dream that he didn’t want to wake up from.
The cold air made his body feel alive for the first time in ages. Normally, he
only felt it dying all around him or betraying him.
Gleefully, Roxas broke an icicle off the porch railing and licked it.
Shockingly, his tongue stuck to it and he desperately tried to get it free but
couldn’t. He heard laughter, but it wasn’t mean laughter that was happy to see
him suffering. It was just a nice cheerful humorous laugh.
Roxas turned to see his redheaded master standing at the window, smiling and
laughing. His cat-green eyes shone brightly, captivating Roxas.
Cleo barked at him again, happily bouncing through the powdery snow.
Delicately, Roxas licked the icicle again and this time, his tongue didn’t
stick. Inside his shattered chest, a little warm shard of his broken heart
began to heal and open like the bloody petals of a flesh flower.
                                     X X X
I wound up using a combination of Kyrione and AnonAnon’s suggestions, so thanks
guys. Hopefully, this gets me successfully out of the hole I’ve dug for myself.
Thank you to everyone else who suggested something!
(1) Nerd moment! Cleo is the name of the puppy in my Kingdom Hearts story,
Behind the Walls.
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Ice Over Clouds: Pt I *****
Thanks to all of you who suggested something with Cloud. It was awesome. (I got
Haunting Ground for Christmas and I’m having way too much fun with it. I’m
having trouble prying myself away from the TV screen.)
                                     X X X
After a warm meal that filled Roxas’s starved belly comfortably, the boy
wrapped himself tightly in his new winter coat and went outside into the night
with Cleo. Axel remained inside, watching television, and he was more than
happy to let Roxas go outside by himself. The crescent moon was shining on the
snow and the entire world was lit up brightly. Sparkling snow played on the
branches of the trees and icicles shone like daggers. Roxas stood in the snow
with Cleo and called to her when she strayed farther than she should have.
An icy breeze gusted through the yard, stirring up snowflakes like a phantom.
Roxas shuddered and drew his coat closer around his body. “Cleo,” he called.
“Come on. Let’s go back inside.”
The puppy barked and bounded through the snow to Roxas’s side.
Roxas crouched down to pet her and scratched her affectionately behind the
ears. Abruptly, she turned her head and stared at something in the darkness.
Her ears perked up, listening to something that only she could hear. She
growled softly and her hackles rose.
Roxas followed her gaze and saw a shadow move at the edge of the yard. Against
the backdrop of the white snow, the figure was nothing but darkness. Roxas’s
heart leaped into his throat and terror gripped him to the core. He clutched
his fingers in his coat.
Was it them? Had they found him and come to take him back?
Would they break him again? Would they say hallelujah?
Roxas stumbled backwards through the thick snow. A little pathetic whimper of
fear welled up in his throat and spilled out passed his clenched teeth.
Already, he was imagining what they would do to him when they took him back to
their basement. He could already smell that stinking mattress, feel the grip of
rough hands, and see the shadows of them watching him. He knew they would
spread him open, use him until they were all satisfied, and when they finished,
they would leave something inside his body so that he would never find relief.
He didn’t want to go!
He wanted to stay here!
Roxas turned to run.
“H-help me-e,” came a weak voce in the darkness.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Was it a trick?
“Hel-lp me,” the voice whispered again. “P-please… A-Axel…”
Roxas’s heart skipped a beat. If they had come for him, how could they know his
new master’s name? Or could they have found it out easily? Roxas didn’t know,
but he wanted to go to that voice. He could hear agony in that voice and Roxas
was a bleeding heart. He would always try to help someone in need, even if it
cost him dearly later.
“H-help m-me, Axel, p-please.”
Roxas told Cleo to stay and approached the shadowed figure.
“Help, p-please.” Abruptly, the figure crumpled into the snow and fell silent.
Roxas immediately rushed through the snow and fell to his knees beside the
shadowed figure. Roxas had an impulse to help those around him who were fallen
and hurt, even if they hurt him in return later. He could never leave someone
to suffer like this—to suffer as he had suffered. Roxas would have given
anything to have someone help him when he needed it.
Quickly, Roxas rolled the figure over, quickly took in the sight of the young
man’s face, and pressed his fingers to his throat. His pulse beat weakly
beneath Roxas’s thin fingers and the youth reached up to close his hand
desperately around Roxas’s wrist.
“P-please, help m-me,” the youth begged. “P-please…”
Roxas nodded and pried the young man’s grip away. “I will, I will,” he said
gently. “Just hang on.”
Though he didn’t look like he could, the young man nodded.
Roxas leaped to his feet and ran back to the house as fast as he could. Cleo
was waiting on the porch and she began barking wildly when Roxas rushed past.
Roxas threw open the front door and exploded inside with a gust of freezing
air. Snow whirled across the floor.
Axel turned harshly away from the television and glared at Roxas. “What the
hell—?” he began, but cut himself off abruptly when he saw the expression on
Roxas’s face. The boy’s pale face was drained of blood, his blue eyes were wide
and panicked, and there was blood on his hand and wrist. “Roxas, what—?”
“Please,” Roxas interrupted with more boldness than he had ever shown to his
master. “Please, there’s someone—”
Axel jumped up from the couch and closed the space between himself and Roxas.
Roxas flinched, expecting to he struck, but Axel didn’t hurt him for barging
into the house and letting in the cold. He lightly grasped Roxas’s hand and
tugged him towards the door. Cleo barked at both of them, darting wildly
through the snowy night.
“Show me,” Axel demanded.
Roxas nodded and quickly pulled his master through the snow to the place where
the young man had fallen. “Here,” he said quickly. “Please, help him.”
Axel dropped to his knees in the snow and slipped his arms beneath the young
man’s shoulders. “Chives!” he shouted. “Chives!” If the butler had heard him,
he didn’t answer and Axel didn’t have time to waste waiting for him. It was
difficult to drag the youth through the snow by himself, but Axel made quick
work of it. He was certainly stronger than his body suggested. Roxas did his
best to help Axel carry the young man up the front steps.
Finally, the trio spilled into the living room and Axel kicked the door closed
to keep the winter out. Cleo barked loudly and Axel shouted, but Roxas could
only hear his own heartbeat. Chives came into the living room with his dark
jacket dusted with flour. His dignified face went white with shock and horror.
“Chives!” Axel shouted again.
The butler dropped to his knees beside the beaten young man. “What happened?”
“Roxas found him,” Axel explained. “Get the lights.”
Roxas scrambled away and flipped the light switch. Bright light flooded the
room and scoured away the gaiety of the Christmas tree.
“God,” Axel whispered.
“This is,” Chives began.
The young man lying in the middle of the living room floor was blonde with blue
eyes like Roxas, but the similarities ended and began there. He was half-naked
even in this weather, dressed in only ragged jeans and a tattered shirt. His
feet were bare and bluish from the cold and his toenails had been torn out. His
chest and back had been whipped to the bone, bruises circled his hips and
thighs, and his wrists were chafed raw from shackles. His face was badly
beaten—one eye was swollen shut, his mouth dripped with blood, and there was a
hideous gash on his cheek.
This youth had the strong frame of a working slave with lean corded muscles,
but it hadn’t been strong enough to protect him. The muscles appeared more like
a prison for the soul living inside that horribly beaten body. A heavy collar
was buckled around his thin throat. Roxas recognized their mark and his blood
ran cold.
“Cloud,” Axel breathed. “God, no… Cloud!”
The young man’s eyes slid open, revealing tiny slits of bloodshot blue, and
then closed as unconsciousness greedily took him.
“He’s still alive,” Chives said sternly. “Axel, snap out of it.”
Roxas focused on breathing and scanned the exposed flesh of the youth’s body.
There were many hideous wounds marring his flesh, but the blood had clotted
into scabs. The youth had probably passed out from cold, malnutrition, and
pain. Swallowing, Roxas glanced over his shoulder at Axel and waited.
What would his master do now?
“Axel!” Chives shouted.
Axel jolted and quickly looked up at Chives.
“What should we do?” Chives asked.
Cleo licked Roxas’s knuckles and he put his hand on her as he waited to see
what would happen. If he understood correctly, this slave—Cloud—was the slave
that had run away from Axel. What would his master and Chives do with such a
badly beaten and half-frozen slave?
Most would just let him die.
“What should we do with him?” Chives asked again. Abruptly, he grabbed Axel’s
shoulders and shook him harshly. “Axel!”
“Call Riku,” Axel said and then his voice rose with panic. “Call an ambulance!
Chives, call someone!”
The butler got to his feet, hustled away, and Roxas could hear him talking to
someone in the other room. A few moments later, he returned and knelt beside
them again. “I called Riku and he’s on his way,” Chives said. “He gave me some
instructions on what to do until he gets here.”
Axel held the young man’s battered hand and rubbed it gently. “Good, good.
What’d he say? What should we do?”
“He said to try to warm him up until he gets here. His body temperature is our
biggest problem right now, not the injuries,” Chives explained. “Let’s get
Cloud upstairs.”
Axel nodded.
Together, the two men lifted Cloud by his feet and under his shoulders. They
carried him upstairs with more care than Roxas had ever seen given to a slave.
Helplessly, Roxas trailed after them with Cleo in his arms and lingered in the
threshold of the doorway. He just watched, his heart beating heavily in his
chest.
Chives and Axel laid the blonde down on the neatly-made bed and made quick work
of his wet clothing. The shirt was so tattered that Axel was able to rip it and
the jeans were too big so they slid off easily. There was a terrible deep wound
from his naval to his collarbone. It was still seeping blood. Beneath the
clothes, the youth’s wore no undergarments and his genitals were painfully
swollen and bruised. A metal ring was fastened at the base of his shaft and
just above his balls, stretching the skin. Signs of use seeped from his core.
Roxas shuddered and hugged Cleo a little closer. The puppy whimpered as if
sensing Roxas’s concern and fear.
Downstairs, the phone began to ring. It sounded so loud in the vast echoing
silence of the large house.
With a muffled curse, Chives rushed past Roxas. He paused for only a moment to
give the boy a small push and a quick word of, “Go and help Axel until I get
back.”
Beyond the windows, the night was cool and still. Though it was frosted with
pure white snow and colored with candied lights, something about it felt wrong.
Roxas’s entire body hummed with the fear that someone—one of them—was outside
in the darkness. Would they have come this far to get Roxas back? It didn’t
seem possible, but Roxas was their favorite and they hadn’t wanted to get rid
of him. Heart pounding, Roxas set Cleo down on the floor and went to Axel’s
side.
Axel was crying and whispering.
Roxas felt as if the tears were a solid slap to his face. Why would his master
be crying? Especially over the life of a slave? That… that wasn’t even
possible. It just wasn’t possible! But Axel was there, kneeling at the bedside
of this slave, sobbing and whispering as he packed blankets around the blonde.
“Please, Cloud, come back. Don’t die!” Axel whispered over and over. He spoke
it like a mantra—like if he said it enough, it would come true.
As Axel finished tucking the blankets in around Cloud’s battered body, he
clutched Cloud’s hand and began to rub it furiously. Those fingers were bluish
and blood seeped from beneath his torn nails. Cloud made a soft sound and his
face twisted with pain.
Roxas touched Axel’s shoulder lightly.
Axel turned his head and his green eyes met Roxas’s. Fear and pain overwhelmed
his tearful gaze. “Roxas?” he whispered.
“Don’t rub,” Roxas murmured as loudly as he dared. “It does more harm than
help.”
Axel sniffled and stopped rubbing Cloud’s hand. He held it so gently, tenderly,
like a baby bird. “How do you know that?” he asked softly.
Roxas looked away and didn’t answer. He didn’t want to remember the times he
had been left naked in the cold, shivering, teeth chattering, until he couldn’t
take anymore and begged—pleaded, offered, cried—to be let back inside
regardless of the horrors that lay in wait for him. He would break and they
would say, ‘Hallelujah.’
Chives returned a moment later, slightly winded, and broke Roxas out of his
thoughts. “That was Riku,” he explained about the phone call. “He’ll be here as
soon as he can, but his street hasn’t been plowed and he can’t get out of his
driveway in that old car of his.”
“Damn it,” Axel whispered and gently stroked Cloud’s hand. “I don’t know if we
can wait that long.”
Chives put his hand on Axel’s shoulder and gazed down at Cloud. “He’ll have to.
You know how the hospitals are…”
Axel started to rub Cloud’s hand, caught himself, and stopped. “Damn it,” he
swore. Then, he sat down heavily beside the bed, put his head between his
knees, and sucked in several deep breaths to steady his ragged nerves. “Cloud,
please, hang on.”
“Just keep him as warm as you can,” Chives told him, “and don’t rub.” Then, he
put his hand on Roxas’s narrow shoulder and said gently, “I need to talk to
you.”
A bubble of fear welled up in Roxas’s chest, but he nodded and followed the
butler into the hallway outside the bedroom. Cleo followed them, but Roxas
didn’t immediately stoop to pick up the puppy. If Chives blamed him for what
happened to Cloud, he didn’t want Cleo to be caught in the crossfire. If Chives
pushed him down the stairs as punishment, Roxas could imagine how his body
would feel as it broke apart. A little shudder of fear went through his body.
Chives and Cleo looked at him curiously, but he didn’t explain to either of
them.
“Listen, Roxas,” Chives began and his hands moved absently as he spoke like
white doves taking flight. “There’s something you need to know about Cloud and
Axel.”
“Cloud is the… pet Master had before me,” Roxas put in.
“Yes,” Chives agreed, “but Cloud ran away and then Axel bought you.”
“So now that Cloud’s back…” Roxas murmured and his eyes slid to the carpet. “Am
I going back to the Puppy Mill?”
Chives wanted to hug the poor child. He sounded so broken, his eyes were so
full of fear and pain, and he looked as if he was going to cry as he gingerly
touched the top of Cleo’s little head. “I doubt it highly,” the butler said
with thick dignity. “What you need to understand is that Axel never hurt
Cloud.”
“Then why’d he run away?” Roxas whispered.
If a slave was caught, the punishment for running away was worse than almost
anything that could possibly have been happening to a slave. On top of whatever
punishment their master’s saw fit to mete out, their feet would be disfigured
so that they could never walk correctly again. Though there were times when
Roxas had thought of running away and damn the consequences, he wouldn’t run
away from this place. This was the best he could possibly have.
“Cloud was in love,” Chives said.
“In love?” Roxas breathed out.
“He hasn’t been a slave very long and he has a wife and kids. He tried to run
away to get back to them. He was convinced something terrible would happen if
he wasn’t there to protect them,” Chives explained. “Axel wanted to free him
but something like that is impossible.”
“Then what…? What happened?” Roxas whispered and his voice broke. “Why is he…
so beaten…?”
Chives sighed and turned his gaze out the window at the frozen night beyond. “I
don’t know. Something must have happened,” he paused and his face paled. “Maybe
Luxord had something to do with it.”
Pain and fear speared through Roxas’s small violated body just with the mention
of that man’s name. He thought of the collar around Cloud’s throat with their
mark on it. Abruptly, Roxas whimpered and hugged both arms around himself. Cleo
whined and rubbed her small head against his lower leg, licking at his jeans.
Chives didn’t mention Roxas’s reaction and stooped down to lightly pet the
puppy. He smiled and said, “She’s a sweetie.”
Roxas couldn’t find his mouth to smile or his voice to agree. Memories flooded
him completely, tore him apart, and shredded his soul. He thought of Luxord
forcing him down before the fireplace, sparks leaping onto his skin as he was
taken brutally. Then, their mark seared through his mind. He remembered the
filthy mattress, the dirty sheets, and stinking pillows. His body bloomed with
memories of being stretched open, forced into, pounded, beaten, used—endlessly.
“Roxas?” Chives asked.
The boy snapped back with a jolt, a cry trapped in his throat. “Y-yeah?”
“Are you alright?”
He nodded and nervously smoothed his fingers against his shirt.
“Are you thinking about what Luxord did to you?” Chives asked, but his eyes
were wise and watchful.
Slowly, Roxas bit his lower lip and nodded.
Chives touched the boy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “That
will never happen to you again, Roxas. Axel can be stupid and brash, but he has
a good heart. He won’t hurt you, not purposefully at least. Do you understand
that?”
Honestly, Roxas shook his head.
Chives sighed. “You’ll be alright, kid,” he said softly.
The pair returned to the bedroom and stood around the bed like reapers waiting
for death. Axel didn’t even look up when they entered. He was still holding
Cloud’s hand and whispering his desperate mantra. Outside, a light snowfall
began to take over the night. Then, suddenly, a loud knocking echoed through
the house from downstairs at the same that Cloud lurched up sharply in the bed
with a shout.
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review! Tell me how much you love it! (Or hate it!)
Or I’m pulling it on hold and starting something new. I just got a great idea
for Vampire Knight (another one) and I want to start that.
***** Ice Over Clouds: Pt II *****
Wow, there were so many reviews for the last chapter! I would have updated a
little sooner, but my job combusted.
                                     X X X
There was both knocking and screaming.
“Go answer the door,” Chives said to Roxas.
Beyond Cloud’s screaming, Axel shouted for the butler in a state of panic, but
his words were lost in the slew of noise as the knocking roared through the
house again. Chives rushed to the side of the bed and pressed his strong hands
to Cloud’s heaving form. It looked like the young man was having some sort of
seizure—it looked terrifying and painful—and Roxas’s throat closed.
“Hurry! If that’s Riku, we need him! Now!” Chives shouted to Roxas through the
threshold of the open doorway.
As if a live wire had touched him, Roxas jolted into motion. He ran from the
threshold with Cleo barking at his heels. He stumbled down the stairs and
slipped on the cold hardwood floor in his stocking feet. At the door, he
hesitated. He had seen their mark on Cloud. What if they had come to get him
back? What if they had come for Cloud or Axel? What if they had come to
torture, to kill, to burn?
The knocking came again, louder, and it sounded like gunfire in Roxas’s broken
mind. But Roxas thought of Cloud, lying in the snow, frozen and bloody. He
thought of Axel, carrying Cloud into the house, kneeling at his side and
whispering his name over and over again.
Did it matter if they came for Roxas?
Could he put his own life ahead of Axel's, ahead of Cloud's?
Swallowing nervously, Roxas pulled open the front door before he could lose his
nerve. Immediately, a figure pushed past him into the house without a word of
greeting. It was the silver-haired man who had checked out his body after Axel
had bought him—the doctor, Riku. His greenish eyes darted around wildly,
searching for something—a sign.
Roxas pulled the heavy zip-up sweatshirt Axel had given him for Christmas
closer around his thin body. His heart pounded, but relief filled him. They
hadn’t been waiting outside the door to break him, hallelujah. This doctor had
been called to save the life of a slave. Axel must be a good person, even if he
had let Luxord rape Roxas, even if he had kissed him.
“Where all they?” was all Riku asked as he shrugged off his coat and threw it
aside.
“Upstairs,” Roxas said.
Cleo stared quietly at them, her eyes brown and soft.
Immediately, Riku raced upstairs with his big black doctor bag clutched at his
side.
The large house was quiet for a long moment. Roxas trailed back upstairs and
lingered in the doorway, watching as Riku joined Axel and Chives beside Cloud.
The damaged slave was lost beneath their hands. Urgency filled the air, thick
and tangible, but there was nothing Roxas could do to help. He just had to wait
and see what his new master was going to do with the runaway slave that had
returned here as if this was some kind of sanctuary.
Was it a sanctuary, a safe place?
Or was it just a place to die, a grave?
Only time would tell.
…
It felt as if hours had passed. Like a father forced to wait outside the
delivery room while his wife was inside having the baby, Roxas sat in the
hallway outside Cloud’s room with Cleo in his lap. The puppy was sound asleep,
absently murmuring with dreams as he stroked her soft golden fur. Roxas’s eyes
were growing heavy when the door opened and Riku emerged, talking quietly to
Chives. Neither of them noticed Roxas and continued talking as if they were
alone. Roxas sat silently in the shadows with Cleo, listening with his heart
like a stone in his throat.
This was the moment he discovered what kind of person his master really was…
Would he kill this beaten young man or just let him die? Would he abandon him
and throw him back out into the cold snow? Would he sell him back to
warehouses? What would he do?
“I don’t know what his chances of survival are,” Riku whispered to Chives.
“What do you mean?” the butler asked worriedly. “He looks like he’s coming
around.”
“He’s been stabbed in the stomach. There’s too much internal damage and with
the frostbite on top of it…” Riku combed his hand trough his silvery hair with
a heavy sigh. “I think it might just be too much for his body to handle.”
“Axel’s not going to like to hear that,” Chives said sorrowfully.
“I know… That’s why I’m telling you, Chives,” Riku said with a mournful sigh.
“I’m not sure Cloud will make it through the night. The best thing we can do
right now is keep him warm and comfortable. I’ve done all I can and we can’t
take him to a hospital. I doubt they’ll help a slave and the roads are hell on
ice.” A bitter grin pulled his lips at the inadvertent pun.
The butler shook his head ruefully at both the news and the bad joke. “This is
terrible,” Chives murmured forlornly. “Axel doesn’t care about the money he’ll
lose if Cloud dies. He cares about Cloud. He wants him to live.”
Riku nodded slowly, breathing lightly. “I hate to see this. When I go out on
house calls,” he murmured, “I’ve seen people beating the hell out of their
slaves. I look into those eyes of theirs and it’s like the abyss is looking
back at me. I want to help them so badly, but there’s nothing I can do.”
Riku took a shuddering breath and pressed his hand over the junction of his
elbow where scars lingered. “I’ve never really told anyone,” he began, “but
after the shit I got into with the drugs and the doctors. I didn’t qualify for
any sort of aid for medical school and I didn’t have any money. No one was
going to lend money to a junkie like me… But Axel did. He gave me the money and
when I tried to pay him back, he wouldn’t take it.” Riku pushed his hand
through his hair again, nervously. “Axel is different from everyone. He cares.
He cares about Cloud and about losers like me. I’ll always respect him for what
he does.”
“I never had to call you,” Chives said slowly, “but when Axel’s father visited
at Christmas, Luxord and Axel go really drunk. While Axel was passed out,
Luxord raped Roxas. When Axel found out, he threw out his father.” Chives met
Riku’s gaze. “I don’t think anyone but Xion knows how much Luxord means to
Axel. We can’t possibly understand what it must have taken to throw out his
father on Christmas over a slave.”
Riku breathed out shakily. “God, yeah,” he murmured. “I know how upset he was
about Cloud running away and for Cloud to come back like this…”
Chives nodded in unspoken agreement and wrung his thin hands. “I’ll do what I
can for both of them.”
Riku patted Chives’s shoulder. “For all three of them,” Riku corrected. “Take
care of Roxas, too. I’m sure the kid’s scared out of his mind. Who knows what
kind of twisted hell he went through? Have you seen his body?”
Chives nodded.
He had seen the poor kid lying naked on the living room floor with Luxord
bending over him. His pale body writhed with pain as he was slammed into over
and over. The expression on his beautiful face was nothing short of
horrifying—tears streaming down his cheeks, terror in those abyssal blue eyes,
blood rolling from his split lip as he bit down to try to silence his screams.
Even beyond that one moment, Chives had seen the hideous scars littering the
boy’s body. Roxas was in worse shape than Cloud even though Cloud was a working
slave and must have had ten years on the fifteen-year-old child. It was
horrible to even think about what kind of things had been done to leave marks
like that on Roxas’s small frail body—burns and cuts and bites and bruises in
varying stages of black and sunflower-yellow—and then the rapes. Roxas had been
sexually active since he was ten-years-old, at the very least.
“I’d hate to know what he’s thinking about this whole situation right now,”
Riku continued.
Chives nodded. “I’m going to make him some hot chocolate and try to talk to
him.”
Riku smiled at Chives and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a good man,
Chives.”
“I try, sir,” he said with thick dignity.
Despite the situation, Riku laughed a little and then vanished down the
hallway. Chives stood there a moment longer, just watching the doctor’s shadow
disappear until he heard the front door slam shut with the sucking chill of the
wind. Then, he turned and looked right at Roxas.
The boy’s heart leaped into his throat. He had been caught eavesdropping. Would
he be beaten or tossed out into the freezing cold now that Cloud had returned?
Chives only smiled. “How about some hot chocolate?”
…
Riku had done his best to dress Cloud’s wounds and work the bluish tint out of
his frostbitten fingers and toes, but that was all he could do. ‘Internal
damage,’ he had said. The words still rang cruelly in Axel’s ears, echoing like
the sepulchral tone of church bells.
A hospital would do nothing to save the life of a slave unless Axel worked
himself up into a tirade with a lot of shouting and credit card waving. He was
willing to do both of those things, but the weather outside was what stopped
him. The snow was high and thick and coated in ice, blinding sheets of snow
blew on the cold wind, and it was only getting worse. Axel knew he would drive
too fast and he would probably kill himself and Cloud if he tried to drive them
there in this weather.
Though Riku hadn’t said anything, Axel knew Cloud didn’t have that much time
left. Cloud’s breath rattled in his lungs and blood was still seeping through
the thick bandage around his stomach despite Riku’s attempts to stitch it up.
With nothing else he could do, Axel sat as Cloud’s bedside and held his cold
hand.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Cloud. “I’m so sorry. I should have done
something. I should have tried to help you.”
Slowly yet suddenly, Cloud squeezed his fingers weakly.
“Cloud!” Axel said eagerly. “Are you alright? Are you in pain?”
“Not so much anymore, Axel,” he whispered. “I know I’m… going to die…”
Axel bit his lip and fought to hold back his tears. “No, Cloud, just hold on,”
he said firmly. “When the storm breaks, I’m going to take you to the hospital.
I’ll pay whatever it takes—”
Cloud shook his head and cut Axel off with resigned silence. “It’s okay, Axel,”
he whispered. “I… I’m ready to go.”
“What about your family?” Axel pleaded and squeezed Cloud’s cold fingers. “What
about them?”
Cloud closed his eyes tightly and a single tear slid down his cheek. “They’re
dead.”
“What?” Axel breathed. His heart sputtered to a stop in his chest, lying there
cold and useless behind the cage of his ribs.
Cloud nodded slowly, wincing in pain at the slight movement. His grip on Axel’s
hand tightened as he cried out softly and his breathing became more labored. “I
went to my house and there’s blood everywhere,” Cloud rasped out. “Tifa’s gone.
I found her hand, severed. She would have died protecting our children and if
they killed her, they would have killed our children too.”
“You don’t know that,” Axel insisted softly.
“I know,” Cloud whispered. “Axel, I always meant… to thank you.”
“For what?”
Cloud weakly squeezed his hand and forced a small smile. “For everything you
did for me.”
“Cloud,” Axel whispered.
“But now… I’m ready to go,” he whispered and a little wryness pulled at the
corners of his blue eyes. “I see you got a new kid to replace me.”
“Roxas,” Axel hesitated. “He’s…”
“He’s been through hell,” Cloud murmured. “I know, I can tell.”
“What can I do to help him like I did you, Cloud?”
“Just give him time and… let me talk to him.”
“But—”
“Please, I want to… do something good for you before I…”
“Cloud, you’re not going to…” Axel trailed off as Cloud fixed him in place with
a firm ice-blue stare, but that look was not as damaging as if usually was.
Axel saw it in Cloud’s face—he was dying and he was ready to go. It would’ve
been cruel to make him keep on living like this—as a slave, knowing his family
was gone, knowing he hadn’t been able to save them. “Okay, Cloud,” Axel
whispered. “Okay.”
Cloud’s smile was thin, but it was there.
…
Axel wandered the halls of his villa in search of Roxas or Chives for what felt
like an eternity, but it must have only been a few minutes. After all, there
weren’t many places Roxas would go in the house and he could hear Cleo barking
happily. Axel found Chives and Roxas sitting in front of the hearth downstairs,
drinking hot chocolate loaded with marshmallows while Cleo played happily with
a tennis ball in front of them.
Chives met Axel’s green eyes with unspoken question. ‘How is Cloud?’
Axel just shook his head.
Chives had known that Cloud’s chances of survival were low the moment he laid
eyes on the beaten frozen body collapsed in the living room. Axel hadn’t wanted
to believe it, but he wasn’t blind or stupid. A slave’s life was always short,
if they were lucky. Some lived to old age even though they had wished to die
years before.
Axel sighed heavily, raked his hand through his thick red hair, and beckoned
the pale blonde child with his hand. “Roxas, would you come with me?” Axel
asked softly. “You can leave Cleo with Chives. It’ll only take a minute.”
Shuddering, Roxas got to his feet and went nervously to Axel’s side. He glanced
back at Chives and the butler tried to give him a comforting look.
Axel led Roxas upstairs, guided him to Cloud’s room, and pushed him inside.
Then, because Cloud’s eyes were burning into him from the bed, he closed the
door behind Roxas. He heard Roxas’s little yelp of fear, but still didn’t open
the door. Instead, he put his back to it and leaned all his weight against the
cool wood. Slowly, he slid into a heap at the foot of the door and allowed a
single tear to slide down his cheek.
…
Cloud reached out gingerly to motion the tiny boy to his side. God, if he
thought he had been through bad things, it looked as if this kid had had it
even worse. His shoulders slumped, fear lined his face and eyes, his lips and
nails had been chewed painfully, and his body was badly damaged. Yet there was
still hope for him… if he stayed with Axel. Quickly, the boy came to Cloud’s
side and clasped his cold hand tightly. The boy’s skin was wonderfully warm
against Cloud’s frigid flesh.
“Hi,” Cloud breathed out on a rattling exhalation. “I’m Cloud.”
“I know,” Roxas whispered. “Is he going to let you die? Is there something I
can do?”
Cloud squeezed his hand tightly, comfortingly. “I’m ready to die, Roxas, but I
wanted to tell you about Axel…” He took a shuddering breath and tasted blood. A
fresh wave of pain washed through Cloud’s cold body. “He’s a good person. He
won’t hurt you.”
Roxas looked away sharply, shivering.
“I know you’ve heard that before, but you can trust me, Roxas,” Cloud murmured.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, not with my last breath.”
The boy nodded slowly. “I understand.”
“If you give him a chance, he’ll help you. If it’s in his power, he won’t hurt
you or let you be hurt.”
The feeling of Luxord tearing into his body lit Roxas’s nerves from the inside
out, but he nodded anyway. Cloud smiled weakly at him and then his face
transformed with agony. He cried out softly and pressed his hand over the
blankets and bandages over his torso. His hand convulsed, tightening on Roxas’s
fingers to the point of pain, but Roxas continued to hold his hand regardless.
“Cloud,” Roxas whispered. “Tell me… who did this to you? Tell me why, if you
know.”
The tremor passed and Cloud’s labored breathing cut through the silence. He
lifted a hand to the collar at his throat and traced his fingertips over their
mark. “Did you recognize this?”
Roxas nodded weakly. “They had me,” he whispered. “They had to get rid of me.
They needed the money, but…”
Cloud let out a shuddering breath and blood rolled from the corner of his
mouth. “It’s the mark of the Organization.”
“The Organization?” Roxas repeated.
“You never knew?” Cloud asked and there was something like broken glass in his
voice.
Roxas shook his head. “They had me for as long as I can remember.”
“They were looking for me, always looking,” Cloud whispered. “I hid as best I
could and tried to live a normal life. I got married and had kids and then… I
don’t know what happened. There was a fire where I worked, I was knocked out,
and when I woke up, I had been sold as a slave. Axel bought me. I found out
where I was and then I left. I had to look for my family, but then… they were
already dead.”
Roxas squeezed Cloud’s hand tightly.
“While I was at my house, the Organization found me. They took me away and they
did this to me. They said it was punishment,” Cloud whispered and then his
words broke off in a long bout of coughing. “It all happened so fast.”
“Punishment?” Roxas whispered. “For what?”
“Something to do with my family, with my father and mother, with my little
brother…” Cloud stared into Roxas’s eyes for a long moment. “You remind me of
him.”
Roxas wet his lips nervously. “The Organization… Did they say, ‘He’s broken.
Hallelujah’?”
The mimicry in Roxas’s voice went through Cloud’s body like the blade of a
knife.
“Don’t say those words,” Cloud insisted in a rasping breath.
Roxas trembled. “Why…?”
“Just don’t,” Cloud whispered. Then, he collapsed into fit of coughing until
blood stained his mouth. “Stay with Axel. You can trust him. He’ll protect
you.”
Roxas nodded slowly, studying Cloud’s face and the mark on the collar at his
throat.
Cloud squeezed Roxas’s hand and then whispered, “Get Axel for me. I need to
say… goodbye…”
Roxas nodded, gently laid Cloud’s cold hand on the bed, and went to the door.
He pulled it open and found Axel sitting on the other side with his knees drawn
up. His green eyes were red-rimmed and his face was drawn with sadness. “Cloud
wants to see you,” Roxas murmured.
Axel nodded silently, rose to his feet, and went to Cloud’s bedside. He gently
clasped the hand that Roxas had been holding only moments before. Roxas was too
far away to hear what Axel or Cloud said, but he watched both their lips move.
Axel smiled thinly, weakly, and Cloud nodded. Then, Cloud’s eyes slid closed
and Roxas saw the weak movement of his chest go still. Axel dipped his head and
his broad shoulders shook as he cried quietly. Roxas lingered in the threshold,
looking on with his heart in his throat.
Cloud looked peaceful as if he really had been ready to go. Maybe this really
was a safe place…
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Ice Over Clouds: Pt III *****
I have no idea why so many people seemed to think Cloud survived the last
chapter. Cloud is dead. I think you all read way to fast.
                                     X X X
After Cloud’s death, Axel remained at the slave’s side for a long time and
Roxas stood in the threshold, just watching. Finally, Chives came into the
upstairs hallway to check on them, took in the situation, and gently guided
Roxas downstairs. He settled the boy onto the plush couch, built the fire up a
little higher in the grate, and gave Roxas a stack of blankets.
“Roxas?” Chives murmured. He reached out to brush the boy’s wild pale hair out
of his face, but Roxas flinched away reflexively. “Are you alright?”
“What will happen now?” Roxas whispered and his voice was distant. Cleo licked
his fingers, but he didn’t appear to notice.
Chives sighed and tucked a blanket gently around the boy. “Now, it’s nighttime
and you’ll go to sleep. Hopefully the blizzard won’t knock the power out, but
that fire will last through the night. In the morning, we’ll take care of
Cloud.”
Roxas’s blue eyes abruptly fell on Chives like a physical touch. He wet his
lips, opened his mouth, and then closed it. He struggled for a long moment, but
finally decided not to speak.
Chives handed him a second blanket and said, “You can sleep here tonight,
unless you’d like to sleep in Axel’s bed.”
Roxas’s knuckles whitened on the blankets and he shook his head.
“I thought so,” Chives said. “Goodnight Roxas.”
Roxas lay down on his side and stared into the flames. The firelight played on
his pale skin and hair, hung in his eyes like the gold that framed a jewel, and
smoothed over the visible injuries on his slender body. He looked beautiful and
frail, but also so much like Cloud.
Chives shook himself and returned back upstairs.
The night beyond the window was deep and still. The snow fell in heavy sheets,
covering the entire world as if it sought to remove all signs of Cloud from its
face. Roxas lifted Cleo onto the couch and she snuggled into his side. Petting
her lightly, Roxas listened to the howling storm outside and the crackle of the
fire in the grate. Distantly, he could hear Chives voice as he spoke with Axel
and Axel began to wail, but that might also have been the storm.
Roxas closed his eyes and slept.
The blizzard broke some point in the night and the house fell silent. Axel
stood at the window, looking out at the snow-covered world. He couldn’t sleep,
not with Cloud’s body lying in the other room. Chives had tried to convince him
that it wasn’t his fault that Cloud died, but Axel couldn’t believe that. If he
had continued looking for Cloud instead of buying a new slave to replace him,
Cloud might have survived. But…
If he hadn’t purchased Roxas’s life, what would have happened to the poor boy?
Shuddering, Axel thought of the beads that had been forced inside Roxas’s body.
He couldn’t have left Roxas in a life like that, but he wasn’t sure he would
have traded Cloud’s life for Roxas’s. He wished there had been a way he could
have saved them both. Axel sighed heavily and raked his hands through his fiery
hair. Axel went to his bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling emptily. Tears
welled in his eyes and rolled silently down his cheeks.
The icy wind howled against the windowpane and then faded into the hoary night.
…
The next morning, Chives woke at his usual time, dressed, and went into the
kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. Then, nursing a mug, he made rounds on the
villa. He looked in on Roxas in the living room and added a second log to the
embers of the fire. The boy was sleeping, but he looked troubled. Cleo worked
herself out from beneath the blankets, barked once, and jumped down to dance
around Chives’s feet. He let her out into the yard and stood on the porch to
make sure she didn’t wander. When she finished, Chives went upstairs to check
on Axel.
The butler eased the door open and saw the redhead lying on his wrinkled bed in
the same clothes he had worn the day before. His bright green eyes were closed
and he appeared to be finally sleeping. Cloud’s death had been incredibly hard
on him. It have taken Chives a long time to persuade Axel to leave the body and
get some rest.
Chives quietly began to close the door, but Axel’s voice rang out. “I’m awake,”
he said.
Chives sighed and opened the door the rest of the way. “Have you been awake all
night?” he asked.
Axel nodded and sat up. “Yeah… Who could sleep after that?”
“I did,” Chives confessed, “and so did Roxas.”
Axel scraped himself out of bed and stretched until his back popped.
“Take a shower,” Chives said. “And then come down for some breakfast. I already
made some coffee.”
“Will you bring me a cup?” Axel asked.
“You can’t drink it in the shower,” Chives scolded. “Just shower and then come
downstairs.”
Axel nodded and moved to his ensuite bathroom. The door closed softly behind
him and then Chives heard the water start up. With a sigh, he left Axel’s room
and went to the room that used to be Cloud’s and currently still was. The body
was just where they had left it the night before, cold and pale and still.
Chives closed the door on the image of Cloud and went back downstairs.
Roxas was sitting up on the couch when Chives walked by. Sleepily, he rubbed
his face and pushed his hair back.
“Good morning,” Chives called to the boy. “Do you want some breakfast?”
Roxas nodded without a thought to protest or lie. He looked worn to the bone,
emotionally and physically.
“Go ahead an take Cleo outside first. Axel should be out of the shower soon and
you can both eat together,” Chives said.
Roxas’s eyes widened, but he nodded without protest. He shrugged into his
winter coat, pushed his feet into his boots, and trudged out into the snow with
Cleo. Nervously, the boy’s blue eyes scanned the front yard, but he went
outside without much hesitation.
Chives ducked into the kitchen and began rattling the pots and pans.
As he cooked, Chives began organizing his checklist for the day. He had to do
something about Cloud’s body. Slaves weren’t buried in cemeteries since they
weren’t considered people anymore and the ground was frozen so Cloud couldn’t
be buried in the garden. He would have to be cremated until summertime. There
was a pretty vase in the china cabinet that was painted with a scene of blue
sky and fluffy clouds, but Axel had never cared for it. It would be the perfect
urn for all that remained of Cloud.
The bloodied sheets and probably the mattress from Cloud’s room would have to
go in the garbage. There weren’t many garbage services that would come to take
the mattress in this weather so Chives would put it in the garage for now and
inflate the air mattress for Roxas until a new mattress could be purchased. He
should probably enlist Axel’s help in moving Cloud’s body into the garage until
it could be cremated as well. The last thing they needed right now was for the
house to smell of decay.
Because of the weather, garbage services would probably be postponed, but it
wouldn’t hurt to gather up all the trash anyway. Cloud’s bloodied clothes
couldn’t be saved and there were onion skins in the kitchen garbage that were
beginning to reek. Chives left the hash browns and sausages over low heat as he
went to retrieve the garbage.
Axel was still in the shower so Chives left his garbage for later and went
right to Cloud’s room. He draped the soiled sheet over Cloud’s pale face and
gathered Cloud’s trashed clothing from the garbage. A small piece of paper
tumbled from the bundle of clothing and lay on the floor like a bird with
broken wings. Chives stooped to pick it up and realized it bore the same mark
as the one on Cloud’s collar. He knew he could have left it for Axel to open,
but curiosity got the better of him. The butler unfolded and read it quickly.
His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat.
He raced to Axel’s bedroom without a care for the fact that the young master
was still in the shower. Chives barreled into the bathroom just as Axel was
stepping out of the shower.
The redhead quickly snatched a towel around his waist. “Chives, what the
hell—?” Axel snapped at him.
“Shut up! Read this,” Chives said and shoved the paper into Axel’s hands.
Axel’s green catlike eyes widened with surprise. He had never seen Chives look
so rattled and he had never known his butler to disobey orders. Sharply, he
turned his eyes to the rumpled paper, read it, and then lifted his nervous gaze
to Chives. “Where did you find this?” he asked.
“In the pocket of Cloud’s pants,” the butler said.
“Do you think,” Axel asked, “the people who killed Cloud put the note in his
pocket?”
“It seems very likely.”
“Then Roxas is…” Axel trailed off and wet his lips nervously.
“It seems very likely,” Chives said with a nod, “and dangerous.”
Axel crumpled the note in his fist and then thrust it into Chives’s hands.
“Don’t tell Roxas about this,” he said sharply. “He’s just starting to come out
of his shell and I don’t want to scare him.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll do something to keep him safe,” Axel said. “I need to
think.”
Then, still wearing only his towel, he went to the window and looked at the
frozen world beyond. Chives remained standing in the bathroom threshold,
waiting for something, for anything, but Axel didn’t speak. Honestly, he didn’t
really have a plan for something like this. Cloud had been a handful, but
Roxas… The boy was turning out to be a dangerous nightmare. Axel had never been
the kind of person to just bury his head in the sand. He had to do something.
He would not lose Roxas like he had lost Cloud.
“Axel?” Chives asked.
“I’m thinking,” he said. “Just get rid of that note.”
Chives closed the door to Axel’s bedroom softly at his back and noticed Roxas
standing at the mouth of the hallway. The boy was cradling Cleo against his
chest, sunk deep inside his sweatshirt, and his blue eyes were bright. Chives
knew then that it would be impossible to hide it. Roxas already sensed that
something was wrong, but Axel had asked Chives not to say anything to him. So,
Chives ducked his head and pushed past the poor boy.
The crumpled note was clenched in his palm and he quickly threw it into the
fire whereupon it burned all to ashes. Chives had half been expecting it to
survive the blaze like something out of a horror movie, but it was only simple
paper.
The writing was ugly as if the person who wrote the message was illiterate and
the ink was thick dense black. It read simply: ‘Bring Roxas to the Puppy Mill
and leave him there for us. If you don’t, the same thing will happen to you.’
…
After a hearty breakfast of sausage and hash browns, Chives and Axel moved
Cloud’s body to the garage until it could be cremated. Shortly afterwards, they
moved the bloodied mattress too. Chives replaced the bed with an inflatable air
mattress and fitted it with clean fresh sheets. Only then was Roxas allowed
back into the room that was Cloud’s but now belonged only to him.
He sat on the bed, breathed deeply, and soaked up the feelings. His master had
been kind to a dying runaway slave and would have saved Cloud’s life if he
could. Axel was going to give Cloud a proper burial as soon as the weather
permitted. Axel was a kind master and it was still almost too good to be true.
Roxas found himself waiting with baited breath for the second sword to fall. To
be in this wonderful warm house and be taken care of gently as if he mattered,
Roxas knew there would be a price, but what…?
Cleo tried to jump onto the bed, but didn’t quite make it. She yipped at Roxas
until he picked her up and then she snuggled into the neatly-made bed.
Roxas smiled faintly. “Hey cutie,” he whispered and petted her head.
Then, he went into the bathroom and started the shower, adjusting the
temperature to delicious warmth. There was a time he wouldn’t have dared even
turn on the tap for a desperate drink when his mouth was dried with semen, but
here he was about to shower. Axel was so kind and insisted with an iron-will
that he shower each day.
It was so strange to live like this, Roxas thought.
Axel hadn’t beaten him within an inch of his life or flayed the skin off his
bones. Axel hadn’t starved him to the point of death or lined his stomach with
spent seed. Axel hadn’t violated him until his body was torn and bleeding.
Axel hadn’t tried to break every piece of him. ‘He’s broken. Hallelujah…’
Roxas shuddered as he undressed and quickly ducked beneath the warm spray of
the water. The heat coursed through his blood and warmed him from the inside
out. Gently, he washed the dried blood from his hands and scrubbed his fingers
through his pale hair. He curled his fingers over the bones of his hips, the
burns on his chest, and the bruises that marred every intimate part of his
body. He was finally beginning to heal, the pain and marks fading as much as
they ever could.
His heart pounded suddenly, rising like the tempo of a drum.
What would he do if Axel suddenly changed and hurt him? What if he took back
all his pretty promises and presents? What if he left Roxas naked and violated
on the cold floor? What if he became a master for Roxas to hate and fear rather
than trust?
Roxas had known a master like Axel once before. This man had been the only one
to be kind to him in the midst of endless horrors and suffering. He pretended
to love and cherish and care for Roxas. He brought him food when he was
starving, water when he was thirsty, bandaged his wounds, and touched him
gently rather than taking pleasure from torturing him. When that man decided to
betray Roxas in the worst possible way, it was the worst feeling in the entire
world.
Roxas was loathe to trust anyone again.
He stepped out of the shower and redressed, shrugging into his heavy sweater
even though he was warm from his shower. It had been so long since he had been
allowed to wear clothes and it was a feeling he treasured. When—if—Axel decided
to strip him naked and throw him into the snow, Roxas at least wanted the
memory of clothes on his skin.
There was a light knock on his door.
“Yes?” Roxas asked uncertainly.
Chives opened the door and smiled at him uneasily. Roxas had never seen that
expression on the butler’s face before and it made him nervous. “Axel wants you
to pack up some clothes. You two are going on a trip,” the butler said. “Do you
want me to help you?”
Roxas shook his head. “What about Cleo?” he whispered. His heart pounded and
his stomach was filled with icy dread. Was this the moment he had feared?
Desperately, he hoped Axel’s kindness would last even a little bit longer.
“You’re taking her with you.”
“Okay,” Roxas said and swallowed worriedly.
Chives ducked out of the room and left Roxas standing there alone.
A tremor ran through Roxas’s body. Why were they leaving? Was Axel going to get
rid of him? Maybe loan him to some friends to fuck, torture, rape, and destroy?
But… why would Cleo be included in something like that? Even if Axel was going
to rape Roxas to death, he didn’t think the redhead would ever hurt the small
puppy. Confused, but uplifted by that single thought, Roxas packed some clothes
into a backpack, gathered Cleo in his arms, and zipped up his sweater.
…
The car was already warm when Roxas and Axel slid into it after trudging
through the thick snow. Axel drove silently, his eyes focused on the road and
his mouth set into a hard line. He didn’t look as if he had gotten any sleep,
but his expression was not one of a man who was about to condemn his slave to
death or dismemberment. Cleo settled in Roxas’s lap in the passenger seat and
promptly went to sleep. Roxas was silent, petting her nervously and keeping his
blue eyes on the scenery outside the window.
“Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?” Axel asked him suddenly.
Startled by his master’s voice, Roxas glanced over at him and then shook his
head.
Axel sighed. “You don’t care?”
The boy wet his lips. “Are you getting rid of me?”
“No,” Axel assured him.
“Are you going to let someone…” Roxas hesitated, “…rape me?”
“No!”
“Then I don’t care,” Roxas whispered and pet Cleo gently.
Silence stretched between them again as Axel drove. Cleo yipped happily in her
sleep, her small legs in the act of running in her dreams, and Roxas smiled
faintly as he stroked her. Axel reached over to pet the puppy as well, watching
as Roxas nervously shied away from his hand, but otherwise allowed Axel’s
fingers to graze his jean-clad thigh.
Axel had told Chives that he didn’t want to freak Roxas out, but he had to know
what he was dealing with. If anyone knew what might be going on, it would have
to be Roxas. He had no choice but to ask the boy, even though he didn’t want
to. “Roxas?” Axel began.
“Yes?” the boy asked and stared at Cleo in his lap.
“Is there anyone who,” Axel asked, “wants to hurt you? Or wants you back?”
Roxas went painfully still.
“An old master, maybe?” Axel continued.
Roxas was a statue in the passenger seat, frozen. His back was ramrod straight,
just like when Axel had gently kissed him, and he bit down on his lower lip
fiercely. He turned his terrified beautiful cerulean-sky-blue eyes to Axel’s
face. “W-what?” he whispered. A single tear rolled down his pale face. “W-
what?”
                                     X X X
How happy is everyone that I finally updated this story after I spent so long
ignoring it? I like to read yaoi occasionally, but I kind of hate writing it.
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Safety? *****
This is a short transition chapter, but it’s all I can manage. My god—my life
at work completely blew up! I’m exhausted.
                                     X X X
The single tear made its way down Roxas’s pale thin face, gleaming like ice or
a shard of a broken mirror. Axel immediately realized that he had done
something very wrong. Roxas gathered Cleo up against his chest and had his hand
on the door of the car all in about six seconds. He looked as if he was
prepared to leap from the moving vehicle.
“Stop!” Axel shouted.
Sure enough, Roxas yanked up the lock and threw the door open. Outside, a gust
of icy winter air swept into the car and the white snow flashed by in a blur.
It looked like an icy grave. Roxas was already unfastening his seatbelt. What
could be so horrible that he was prepared to risk his life like this?
“Stop it! Roxas!”
Axel slammed on the brakes and the car skidded on the snowy road. Roxas had one
foot on the ground when Axel grabbed his wrist, yanked him back into the
vehicle, and reached across him to grab the open door. Once he had slammed it
and had Roxas safely back inside, Axel turned his attention back to the matter
at hand.
“What? What is it?”
“I won’t go back!” Roxas screamed at him. His face was as pale as death and his
blue eyes were abyssal. “I’ll never go back. I’d rather die!” He struggled to
free himself from Axel’s grasp on his forearm desperately, shrieking. “Let me
go!”
Axel fought with the boy, unwilling to lose yet another slave—not after Cloud
and with that note. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to Roxas. The boy’s
body was so thin and frail that it didn’t take much for Axel to capture both
Roxas’s wrists in his larger hands and pin them deftly.
“Stop it, Roxas. Talk to me!” the redhead demanded.
“I’ll never go back!” Roxas shouted at him, still struggling. In his fuss, Cleo
had been thrown from his lap and onto the floor of the car. The puppy hunkered
there, whimpering, as Roxas struggled against Axel’s grip on his wrists. “No!
Let me go!”
“Roxas!” Axel shouted suddenly. “Fucking talk to me!”
Then, all the fight went out of Roxas like air escaping a punctured balloon. He
crumpled in the passenger seat, tears sliding down his face. “Please… just let
me go… I don’t care. Just… please, I never want to go back to them… I’d rather
die out there… in the cold, in the snow… Please…”
Axel softened. “Roxas, what is it?” he murmured gently. He loosened his grasp
on Roxas’s fragile wrists and held them gently. He could feel Roxas’s pulse
hammering wildly beneath his pale skin and his breath came in short nervous
gasps. With his free hand, he reached to push Roxas’s hair out of his face and
the boy flinched away slightly.
The boy shook his head and his blue eyes welled with tears. “Please… just let
me go. Let me die. Don’t take me back… not to them…”
“Roxas, please, talk to me,” Axel insisted as gently as he could.
Then, Roxas’s voice changed, mimicking the horrible tone Axel had heard back
when he played the song, ‘Broken Hallelujah,’ for the boy. Roxas’s mimicry…
what a strange gift. In a dark mean voice, Roxas whispered, “He’s broken.
Hallelujah…”
Then, in his own timid voice, he whispered, “They broke me apart… I can’t ever
go back to that.”
A finger of curiosity and worry crept into Axel’s mind. “Roxas, did you…
escape?”
The boy shook his head and his throat flashed as he swallowed. “They needed
money so… they sold me. They didn’t think anyone would buy me since my body is
so…” his voice broke “…damaged. They thought that if they waited long enough
I’d be cheap enough to buy back and they could… have me… again…” Roxas sobbed.
“I can’t… I can’t go back.”
Axel gently embraced Roxas and rubbed the boy’s thin trembling back. “You’re
not going anywhere.”
For a moment, Roxas resisted the warm strong arms of his strange master. Then,
his slender fingers clutched into Axel’s cotton shirt almost of their own
accord. The boy crumpled against Axel, sobbing, his small body wracked with
pain and fear.
Axel soothed him for a long time, whispering promises until Roxas’s trembling
and crying stopped. Then, stroking his soft flaxen hair, he whispered softly,
“Just tell me who’s after you and I’ll do whatever I can to protect you. I
don’t want anyone to ever hurt you.”
Roxas sniffled and whispered, “The Organization.”
“The Organization?” Axel repeated.
The boy nodded, his face pressed into Axel’s shirt.
“Who are they?” Axel asked.
“I never really knew… It was Cloud who told me what they called themselves,”
Roxas whispered. “I just know that there are a lot of them.”
Axel’s heart skipped a beat and he tightened his arms around Roxas’s tiny body.
The same people who had killed Cloud and dumped him in Axel’s frozen lawn to
die were the same people that had tortured and violated Roxas since the boy had
been ten years old.
“They’re the ones who always… raped me,” Roxas continued in a trembling voice.
“Sometimes… together…”
The redhead shushed him and stroked his hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m
going to protect you.”
Suddenly, Roxas fought against Axel’s embrace like a wild animal that had been
caged. Startled, Axel released him and Roxas yanked away. His eyes were like
chips of ice and fierce even as they still glittered with tears. “Like you
protected me from your father?” Roxas hissed.
Axel grit his teeth. Shame welled up in his chest and heart. “I never meant for
that to happen. You know that, Roxas.”
Roxas turned away sharply and gazed out the window. He lifted Cleo back into
his lap and began to pet her, ignoring his master seated beside him. He bit his
lower lip and his hands trembled. Roxas looked so small, so thin, so completely
and utterly betrayed and beaten that Axel just wished he could promise with
absolute certainty that Roxas would never be hurt again. He wished that with
all his heart. But he could never promise that. Just as with his father, he had
no idea what he was up against.
The Organization…?
What kind of power did they have?
Axel put the car back in drive and rolled along the icy road. Beside him, Roxas
silently stared out the window with his small white hand resting on the handle
as if he was prepared to spring from the vehicle at any moment, but he never
moved. He just sat there, watching, his blue eyes fixed on the world outside
the car with longing and fear.
…
After receiving the note from Chives, Axel had thought long and hard about what
he was going to do to protect Roxas. Clearly, whoever was after him knew where
Axel lived so it would be best to move Roxas to a new and safe location.
Axel didn’t want to risk endangering Xion or her family. Though her father was
big and strong, she had too many little brothers and sisters. Axel could never
risk her. Riku was the next choice, but he was a doctor and was always away on
house calls. He couldn’t bring Roxas with him so that wasn’t an option either.
Instead, Axel decided that he and Roxas would go into the city and stay with
Axel’s friend, Vexen. Vexen lived in an apartment all alone. He was a college
student, but in his free time, he carved ice sculptures for a fancy restaurant
so there were plenty of pointy objects with which to defend oneself lying
around. That, and Vexen loved a good fight. He was the ideal person to hide
Roxas with while Axel found out what he could about this ‘Organization.’
Once they reached the city, Axel would spend the night with Vexen and Roxas to
settle the boy in and lay the ground rules for everything. Then, he would leave
to find whatever information he could about this Organization and do whatever
he could to bring them to justice. If necessary, Chives would drive out and
assist Axel, but he was hoping he could wrap this up quickly. The last thing he
needed was for something bad to happen to Roxas.
In the passenger seat beside Axel, Roxas’s head drooped as sleep teased him. He
murmured softly and curled his fingers lightly around his battered wrist as if
to comfort himself with his own touch. In his lap, Cleo was snoozing happily.
God, the kid was so beautiful with his pale skin and golden hair and sapphire
eyes. Axel couldn’t wait for the time when Roxas was healed and trusted him. He
couldn’t wait to kiss those soft lips, taste him, devour him. He yearned to
feel the boy’s hot tight body clenching around his length. He wanted to see
what Roxas looked like in the throes of pleasure with his head tipped back, his
lips parted, his face flushed, and his beautiful eyes glazed.
Focus, Axel reminded himself and forced his eyes back to the road.
Before any of that could happen, he would have to solve this harrowing
situation as fast as possible. Then, he could take Roxas home, help him crawl
out of his shell, and heal his damaged heart and body. Only then would he
finally be able to act out his fantasies and desires. Hopefully, Roxas would
desire him, too.
Everything would be all right. Everything would be okay. Vexen would watch over
Roxas and Axel would take care of the Organization.
Nothing could go wrong.
                                     X X X
Let’s not get too excited about the Organization (which I have cut the
‘Thirteen’ out of because, clearly, Axel and Roxas aren’t there and then
there’s Axel’s father, Luxord). I’ve never played a game where they’re involved
so I don’t know much about them. I did a little floundering in the Kingdom
Hearts Wiki for some information, but it doesn’t really matter. They’re bad
guys! (Right…?) Anyway, moving on…
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review…?
***** The Ice Sculptor's Apartment *****
The not-so-epic return of… *dun dun* ParadiseAvenger’s Recommendation Board:
“Wretched Revenge” by Tasogare no Raikou (over on fanfiction.net). For those of
you that like what I write (angst and sex and good twisted plot) you’ll love
this.
                                     X X X
Night began to fall on the horizon, washing over the snowy-white landscape like
ink spilled on a white tablecloth.
Soon after that, Roxas fell into an exhausted sleep that lasted the entire
drive to Vexen’s apartment in the city. Axel had called ahead when he stopped
for gas about half an hour ago and Vexen was waiting for them on the stoop when
they arrived. Vexen’s apartment building was an old redbrick monstrosity, but
it withstood the test of time and it looked warmly inviting in the icy
darkness. The steps had been shoveled and there were several misshapen snowmen
standing guard at the sidewalk.
Axel got out of the car and closed the space between himself and his friend.
“Long time, no see.”
“Hey Axel,” Vexen said with a grin as he clasped his friend’s hand in greeting.
“It’s great to see you. I just wish it was under better circumstances. You’ve
got to come visit me more, man.”
Vexen’s hands were ice-cold and his sleeves were wet—he must have been carving
something. His long blonde hair was twisted back into a ponytail though a few
strands hung in his ice-blue eyes. His massive frame filled up the doorway, but
then he smiled and it transformed his face. His green eyes were shiny like
glass marbles, focused like those of a bird that had taken in sight of an
insect. He glanced past Axel’s shoulder at Roxas and smiled wider. Yeah, Axel
told himself, Roxas would be safe with Vexen.
Axel grinned at his friend, wiped his dampened hand on his jeans, and then
rubbed his chilled hands together. “I know,” he said. “Thanks for agreeing to
take care of Roxas while I’m away.”
“No problem. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine,” Vexen said. (Axel hadn’t
mentioned that Roxas was a slave, but Vexen had come to the conclusion that
Roxas was just a friend and that was just fine with Axel.) “Come on in. Can I
grab anything for you?”
“I’ve got it,” Axel assured him.
Then, Axel opened the passenger door, gathered up the still-sleeping Roxas in
his arms, set Cleo down so she could pee and stretch her little legs, and
carried Roxas into Vexen’s small apartment. Cleo trotted in after him, sniffing
everything curiously and falling over her own legs like a typical puppy. The
couch was made up with sheets and blankets and there was a half-finished ice
sculpture on the kitchen table. It was rather large and kind of shaped like a
tree.
“Interesting,” Axel remarked.
“What?” Vexen asked.
“The sculpture,” the redhead said and angled his chin towards it as he settled
Roxas down on the couch. He lifted Cleo up with the boy and covered them both
up. With a sigh of contentment, Roxas nestled into the blankets deeper. Even in
sleep, he was probably happy to get out of the car and the crunched position he
had been sleeping in.
“Isn’t it?” Vexen asked. “It’s for some hippie wedding. They wanted a tree
centerpiece.”
“Not Cupid?” Axel asked curiously.
Vexen shrugged. “Actually, Cupid isn’t so popular anymore,” he explained. “The
bow and arrow melt first and then all that’s left is a fat baby in a diaper.
It’s not all that attractive.”
Axel barked a laugh. “That’s kind of hilarious.”
Vexen smiled broadly and continued, “I’m not complaining since it’s a bitch to
carve anyway. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to carve a bow or an
arrow?”
Axel chuckled. “No idea.”
Vexen snorted, milled his way to his small kitchen, and took two frosted beers
out of the fridge. “So, I don’t really know where I’m going to put you up
tonight,” he said. “I only have the one couch and you’re not getting my bed.
Friendship only goes so far.”
“It’s cool, just set me up on the floor,” Axel said and took a grateful sip of
beer. Then, he eyed the can. His mouth went dry as he recalled what had
happened to Roxas the last time he had gotten drunk, but Vexen wasn’t going to
hurt Roxas. Axel took another drink and sighed as the alcohol warmed him from
the inside out. “I can sleep anywhere.”
“I know you can,” Vexen said. “I remember in high school, you used to sleep in
every class. You even fell asleep while the rest of us were trying to rig up a
camera in the girl’s locker room.”
“Hey, girls aren’t that interesting,” Axel protested.
“You were our lookout!” Vexen shouted, laughing despite himself. “The principal
caught all of us and we had detention for a week.”
“Good times,” Axel said slyly.
Vexen let out a long-suffering sigh and pushed some hair out of his face. “I’ll
dig out some blankets,” he said. “I lent someone my air-mattress otherwise I’d
put you on that.”
Axel finished the beer and crunched the can in his fist. “I’m beat. Just point
me in the right direction.”
Vexen put his ice sculpture away inside an industrial-size freezer that took up
most of his kitchen and set about dragging blankets and pillows out of the
closet for Axel. It was pretty late, so Vexen saw that Axel was settled in, bid
his friend goodnight, and went to shower. When he came out of the bathroom,
Axel was snoring loudly. Vexen ventured through his living room until he was
standing alongside the couch, looking down at Roxas’s pale sleeping face. The
boy murmured and shifted in his sleep as if he could feel Vexen’s gaze on him.
Lightly, Vexen brushed some of the boy’s platinum tresses out of his face and
murmured, “What a cute kid.”
…
The cage was small and dark. He was naked and cold, hurt and violated. It
scratched at his memory like a scar.
The youth’s core was stretched to its absolute limits with the measured phallus
they had managed to plow into his small beaten body. He couldn’t seem to
breathe. There wasn’t enough room inside of his body for air. It was too filled
with pain and the unforgiving phallus. It was larger even than the two cocks he
had been forced to take when they were preparing him. The horrible sensation of
both dicks slipping and sliding, thrusting and plowing, inside him still
plagued him.
But, at least, he was free of them.
For now…
They might have sold him, but there was no doubt in his mind that they would
get him back. They said that he would never escape and he believed them. He was
trapped in this never-ending hell, but for now… he was free of them. It didn’t
even matter that he was going to be sold to someone else or packed away into a
slave house like cattle.
He was free of them.
For now…
The door of the tiny cage was opened and light poured in. His eyes watered and
burned, unused to the brightness after spending so long in the dark. Someone’s
blurred hands reached into the cage and pulled him out. They held him on his
feet, but the moment of kindness was short-lived.
A moment later, that hand pressed to the large phallus inside him. He cried out
as the shaft wriggled within the abused sheath of his muscles, twisted lightly.
Then, it was removed slowly. He could breathe for the first time in what felt
like an eternity. Fingers slipped inside, probing for semen or blood. They
would have to sell him for less if he was obviously damaged beyond a point that
could be healed or if he had been recently used. Finding everything to be
alright, fresh lubricant was smoothed inside his core and the phallus was
pushed back into him.
He cried out weakly, fingers clutching at the arm that held him up. “Please,
no…”
Mercy was not shown to him, at least, not when it came to the auction. He and
the handler stood at the foot of a small staircase, listening to the auctioneer
speaking. He trembled, shivering wildly with cold and fear. Finally, the
auctioneer finished with the slave he had been selling and there was a
smattering of applause.
The boy was led out onto the platform, naked, and shown to the crowd below. The
audience sounded like carrion birds feasting on the carcass, devouring the
sight before them. The auctioneer palmed the phallus, pulled it out a few
inches, and pushed it back inside. He whimpered, hands curling into tiny fists
over his genitals. The auctioneer removed his hand from the phallus and lifted
a short crop. The strike was brief, but hard and unspeakably painful. It
slashed low on the boy’s body and spared right into his most pained place. With
a sharp scream, he collapsed to the floor of the platform. The skin chaffed off
his knees.
Someone applauded and the auctioneer took the hint.
The boy was pushed into a new position, forced to remain on his hands and knees
like a dog. Blonde hair obscured his vision, but he was grateful not to have to
see the audience enjoying his pain. These new masters were just like his old
ones. They would break him, hallelujah.
The auctioneer gripped the thick measured phallus again. He pulled it out with
painstaking slowness while holding his microphone to the boy’s lips so the
audience could hear his little cries of pain before slowly pushing it back in.
There were footsteps on the wooden platform as someone brought something to the
auctioneer. The phallus was slowly pulled from his body completely. His arms
trembled with relief and nearly failed to support his weight. The boy gasped
softly.
There was a soft snap as the auctioneer put on a rubber glove. Lightly, he
caressed the boy’s bottom and cupped the battered cheeks. He spread them apart,
revealing the ravaged place deep inside. The boy whimpered softly, hating how
every sound he made was amplified for the audience. Then, without warning, the
auctioneer pressed first four fingers and then his entire fist into the boy’s
body. Immediately, the boy’s trembling arms gave out and his face scraped
against the rough planks of the platform.
“Scream,” the auctioneer whispered against the shell of his ear. “Let them hear
you. What are you like when you’re being fucked?”
The young slave shuddered in horror. Then, the auctioneer gripped the boy’s
small member and began to stroke to the point of bruising. The crowd below
cheered, clapping and hooting. The auctioneer gripped the boy’s face and turned
him to face the audience. Tears ran down the boy’s cheeks and dripped onto the
boards.
“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t…”
“Scream!” the auctioneer shouted.
Though the fist was removed from inside him, a savage blow landed on his
exposed back. His skin ruptured beneath the crack of the whip and blood rolled
down his back and thighs. The auctioneer rammed the thick phallus back into his
small body, pushing it deeper than it had been before, past the hilt, tearing
him up. Now, the blonde boy did scream.
A cry came from the audience—bidding on his life, his soul, his body.
“Sold!” the auctioneer shouted.
He screamed!
…
Roxas woke sharply to someone licking his face. A moment of terror grabbed his
guts and he lurched up, clutching the blankets to his chest. His sudden
movement sent Cleo rolling with a yelp of surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he
whispered and gently stroked the puppy’s head. “Are you okay?”
She seemed to forgive him for frightening her because she licked his cheek
happily.
“I’m sorry,” he said to her again.
“Sorry for what?” came his new master’s voice. Roxas looked around and finally
spotted Axel. He was lying on the floor, looking incredibly comfortable in his
nest of pillow and blankets. He was smiling and he reached out to pat Cleo
lightly.
Roxas quickly looked away from those bright green eyes. “I…”
“Were you having a bad dream?” Axel asked suddenly.
Roxas didn’t answer him.
Axel sighed. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said finally. Then, he scraped
himself from the floor and stretched. “You’re going to stay here with Vexen
while I take care of this Organization thing. Don’t worry. I’m going to make
sure I protect you. You’ll be safe here.” Axel knelt beside the couch and
gently touched Roxas’s clenched hands. “Okay?”
Roxas nodded, but there was darkness in his blue eyes that said he didn’t hold
out much hope of being protected by Axel again. Then, softly, he whispered,
“Why aren’t I going with you?”
Axel tenderly touched Roxas’s face where a bruise left by Luxord was still
fading. “Because I don’t want to see you hurt,” he murmured.
The boy didn’t speak.
Axel sighed again. “I’m going to shower and I’m going to head out. If you need
anything, just ask Vexen, okay? He’s an old friend. He’ll take care of you.”
Roxas looked like he would be starving on the floor before he’d dare ask
anything of Axel’s friend.
Axel sighed and spent a moment wondering where Vexen was anyway. He wanted to
introduce them properly before he left. With a shrug, Axel went to shower, but
when he got out, Vexen was still nowhere to be seen. The apartment was quiet
and still, cool from the ice and large freezer.
“Roxas, I’m leaving,” Axel explained one final time. “I left Vexen a note.
Remember, if you need anything, just ask him, okay?”
Roxas nodded timidly and hugged Cleo close.
Axel waved to Roxas, ducked out the door, and closed it behind him.
Roxas listened to his footsteps retreating down the hallway. He remained
sitting on the couch, petting Cleo, but he wasn’t alone for very long.
A familiar face entered the apartment, grinned that toothy Cheshire cat grin,
and said in a voice Roxas had learned to perfectly mimic, “Hello Roxas.”
Terror gripped Roxas’s heart in a vice. Axel wouldn’t really have left him
here, right? Not after all his earnest promises of protection and caring?
Frozen, for a moment, he just stared at Vexen—cerulean eyes wide, shattered
heart pounding, blood running cold in his veins, death gripping his body. Then,
the large blonde man took a step towards him and licked his lips hungrily. That
snapped Roxas out of it. He lunged for the door, screaming for Axel, for
anyone, but he never had a chance.
In Axel’s plan, everything had gone wrong.
                                     X X X
And it turns out that only a few people were on to me. Strange… I figured you’d
all be shouting, “Vexen is part of the Organization! Don’t go Axel! NOOOOOO!”
Ah well.
Well, the review count for the previous chapters dropped to a new low so I
guess that means I’m free to work on other stuff and update as slowly as I
please.
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Someone to Protect *****
I have an excessive amount of stories in progress—all my Rise of the Guardians
one shots, some HTTYD stuff because the sequel was so awesome, this hellish
pain in the ass…
                                     X X X
Consciousness came back to Roxas in layers, peeling away until he was nothing
but raw aching fear.
First, with a crackle of static not unlike turning on an old radio, his hearing
returned. People were laughing and it sounded like the cackling of carrion
crows, flesh-eaters, demons, monsters, nightmare creatures. They. Them. Those
men, those people. The Organization. The sound of their laughter echoed inside
Roxas’s head and heart, digging in little needles of ice and fear.
The second layer scraped away like a curtain lifting on a tragic stage. The
room was familiar and the smell was familiar. The stale air was thick with the
scents of sex and blood, sweat and cigarette smoke, stale piss and soiled
sheets. He was back in the room that was his personal hell, back in their
clutches, back with them—just like they had said.
Thirdly, he became aware of his body and skin. He could feel that all his
clothes had been stripped away and he was lying naked on a mattress. It was
stupid to think that the mattress felt familiar to his skin, but he couldn’t
help thinking that. A sheet had been draped over his body, but it was stiff
against his hips—probably with dried semen and blood. The cold air kissed his
bare shoulders, raising goose bumps on his pale porcelain skin.
Taste was slow to return, but it seeped back like wine decanting. His mouth
tasted like blood and there were painful gashes in his tongue and lips. Vexen
must have punched him in the face to knock him out, but his teeth still all
felt intact when he probed them with his tongue. They never hurt his face too
badly. It was his best feature, besides the tight sheath of his body, but that
didn’t last the way his face did.
Finally, pressed against his naked back, he could feel the warm fluff of Cleo’s
little body. Thankfully, she was breathing and whimpering softly, but at least
she was alive. Roxas suddenly wished beyond all wishes that he had left her
beyond at Axel’s villa where she would have been safe. He would have been
alone, but he had been alone all his life. He loved Cleo enough to wish she was
safe, even if she was away from him. He just wanted her to live through this
hell.
What had he ever done to deserve this pain, this torment? What horrible things
had he done in a past life to deserve this punishment? Even if he had done
something horrible, he was certain he had paid for it time and time over by
now. He just wanted this to end! But, Roxas knew he would never escape from his
living hell. No one would save him—not now.
Choking back tears, Roxas forced himself to listen to what they were saying.
“I can’t believe it!” One of them said, “He landed right in your lap? Just like
that?”
“I know!” came Vexen’s voice. “It’s ridiculous, right?”
Axel’s friend, Vexen… He had been part of the Organization all along. But did
Axel know that? Had Axel delivered Roxas knowingly back into their arms to be
violated and tortured? Or was it just an unfortunate accident? Shards of
Roxas’s heart hoped that Axel wasn’t that kind of person, but he had been
betrayed before. He knew better than to believe when the evidence was contrary.
“That’s literally on a silver platter!”
There was more laughter, cackling and hooting wildly.
“What about Axel?” a second man asked.
“I ransacked my apartment,” Vexen explained loftily. “He’ll probably figure
that ‘The Organization’ came and stole Roxas. He’ll never even suspect that I’m
the one who took him. Axel always was a moron, even in high school.”
“That’s clever,” the first man said, “but are you sure that’ll work?”
“Axel and I have been friends a long time,” Vexen said. “He trusts me.”
Silence slid between the group of men and Roxas could feel their eyes move
across him like a physical touch. He tried not to move, not to breathe too
deeply, not to do anything to give away that he was conscious. Cleo whimpered
and curled closer against Roxas’s back.
“So,” one of the men said, “Vexen, how’s the ice sculpting going?”
“Alright,” Vexen said smoothly. “It’s fun and it pays the bills.”
Silence lapsed between them again. Though they could all get along very well
when they were beating or raping Roxas, there didn’t seem to be much room for
small talk. Someone shuffled their feet and someone cleared their throat.
“But not as much fun as this,” Vexen said finally to break the awkward silence.
“I know,” one of the other men agreed. “I’ve missed him.”
“Me too,” the third added, “and he’s been healed up. It’ll be just like when we
used him the first time, you know?”
“God, he we such a tight fuck when he was young,” Vexen said hungrily.
“Younger, you mean,” one of them said with a chuckle.
Roxas squeezed his cerulean eyes shut tightly, but tears leaked beneath his
lids regardless. Cleo snuggled tighter against his back, whimpering. There was
a stinging sensation, as if he had been cut, as her tongue rasped against his
back comfortingly. ‘Please,’ he begged a god that had never listened to him
before. ‘Please, let this just be a nightmare, a dream, I’ll do anything.’ But
as before, that merciful god wasn’t listening to Roxas. God wasn’t even looking
his way.
“So, what’s with the puppy?” the second man asked Vexen.
“It must be a pet,” Vexen said. “Axel brought her along with Roxas.”
“And you didn’t do anything to it?” came a cold voice that chilled Roxas to his
core.
There was a harsh slap. “What’s wrong with you?” Vexen demanded. “She’s just a
puppy!”
“Jeez, sorry,” snapped the second man. “I didn’t realize we were an animal
shelter.”
“We’re not,” Vexen protested, “but we’re not just going to kill a defenseless
puppy!”
“Artists,” the third man grumbled. “You’re all bleeding hearts.”
Again, Roxas prayed, biting his lip desperately as the tears coursed down his
pale cheeks. ‘If you won’t save me, at least… please, save Cleo. She never did
anything to deserve to be hurt. She’s just a puppy, just a baby. She’s
innocent. So please, don’t let them hurt her… even if you let them hurt me…’
Maybe someone would hear that prayer and take it to heart. Maybe the god above
wanted Roxas to suffer, but maybe… just maybe… he would protect Cleo.
“Hey, I think he’s awake now,” Vexen said with a tangible smirk.
“I think you’re right,” the second man said.
Roxas tried to remain as still as he could on the soiled mattress and keep his
breathing even. Maybe if they thought he was still unconscious, they would
leave him alone. He swallowed nervously and shifted as slightly as he dared in
an attempt to shelter the more vulnerable parts of his body.
“Roxas,” Vexen cooed. “It’s time to wake up.”
“He’s faking,” the other man said.
“I know,” said the third.
They laughed together.
Knuckles brushed Roxas’s back through the sheet and he tensed, but it seemed
that Vexen was only lifting Cleo from the mattress beside Roxas. He listened to
the man’s footsteps, his eyes still tightly shut, and he felt certain that Cleo
had been set down gently somewhere else in the room. She yipped softly,
happily, but then whimpered again. Even so, Roxas was relieved. As long as
Vexen was here, Cleo was safe. They weren’t going to hurt her.
“Hey,” one of the men said sharply. “Stop faking.”
Then, a cigarette seared into the side of his thigh. Screaming, Roxas lurched
away. His eyes flew open as he pressed back against the headboard of the bed,
clutching the sheet to his chest and desperately trying to escape the burning
tip of the cigarette.
“Please, please, don’t!” the boy begged.
The second man grinned and Roxas recognized him as Xaldin. He was bigger and
meaner than Vexen with his dark hair and ugly sideburns. Roxas also knew from
experience that Xaldin was the most painful. He got off on torturing Roxas, on
stretching his body to its limits, on leaving scars that would last forever. He
smoked only so that he could put them out on Roxas’s pale flesh. He also had
the biggest cock and rarely used lubricant.
“Please…” Roxas whispered, staring into that face with terror in his voice.
“Please, don’t…”
Vexen caught Roxas’s chin in his cold hands and forced him to meet his eyes.
“Did you think you had escaped us, little pet? Did you think you were going to
live your happy little life with Axel? Was that what you thought?”
Roxas pulled his face away, but Vexen struck him sharply. His hand cracked
across Roxas’s cheek. Tears welled in Roxas’s eyes, rolled down his stinging
face, and dripped off his chin. Trembling, he lifted a hand to his cheek and
held it gently. “Please… stop…”
“He’s begging,” Xaldin said. “It’s been a long time since he’s down that.”
“Axel’s been healing our little fuck-toy and he did a bang up job,” Xaldin put
in.
“My son is a gentle touch, a real nice kid,” came a voice that sent Roxas’s
heart plummeting into his stomach. He turned his head and stared right into
Luxord’s smirk. Frozen in terror and shock, he could only stare as Axel’s
father waved at him cheekily. “Did you miss me, Roxy?”
“H-how?” Roxas breathed out.
Vexen slung his arm around Luxord’s shoulders. “Well, Roxas, I heard you’re
familiar with our newest recruit.”
Luxord rolled his hips lewdly. “Oh, we’re intimately familiar with each other.”
“I’m so jealous,” Vexen chuckled.
Xaldin grabbed Roxas’s face abruptly and dug his fingers into Roxas’s throbbing
cheek. “I bet you’re nice and tight now, huh? I bet Axel didn’t even fuck you,
did he?”
Roxas tried to pull away even though he knew it would only earn him another
slap.
Across the small room, he could see Cleo. She was lying on a chair curled up in
Vexen’s coat. Her sweet eyes were watching him and it looked as if she wished
she could help, but she was just a baby. Roxas was on his own, just like he
always had been.
“What are you looking at?” Xaldin snapped.
Roxas tore his gaze away and kept it on the soiled sheets.
Xaldin turned to look over his shoulder. “Ah, the puppy…” Then, he glanced at
Vexen and said with a cruel grin, “Come on. Let’s kill it. It’ll destroy the
kid!”
Luxord chuckled and folded his arms over his chest. He didn’t look like he
cared one way or the other.
Vexen paused to gnaw at his lip, thinking.
“No!” Roxas screamed. He released his grip on the sheet that he was clutching
over his nudity and grabbed the front of Xaldin’s shirt desperately. “Please,
don’t! She’s just a baby!”
Xaldin chuckled and closed his strong hands over Roxas’s frail wrists. He
tightened his grip until Roxas winced. “I tell you what,” he said. “I’ll side
with Vexen and we won’t hurt the puppy if you…” He paused and turned to the
other two men. “What should we make him do, guys?”
Vexen licked his lips eagerly and grinned. “Make him suck,” he said. “He’s
always has hated to suck.”
“That’s good,” Luxord put in. “You’re devious.”
“I try,” Vexen said with a smooth smile.
Xaldin turned back to Roxas. “Hear that? You suck us and we won’t hurt the
puppy.”
Trembling, Roxas nodded.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t care what they did to him. For that,
he both loved and hated Axel. If he didn’t care, then he wouldn’t have to suck
them, but he loved Cleo and he wanted to protect her. If he protected her, then
he wouldn’t be alone in this hellhole. For that, he didn’t care what they did
to him or what he had to submit to.
Vexen and Xaldin unzipped their pants and Roxas was shocked to find that they
were both already stone-hard with the anticipation of violating his mouth.
Luxord stood back, patient, his eyes glittering and watchful, but he had a
fierce tent growing in his pants that betrayed his outward cool.
Wetting his lips nervously, Roxas reached out and cautiously gripped each cock
with one hand. They were as he remembered—soft sticky skin stretched over a
frame of steel and lust, pulses throbbing on the sensitive vein at the
underside. With groans, the two men pressed hip to hip to give Roxas the best
access and no place to escape to. With only a moment of hesitation, Roxas
licked the mushroomed head of first one and then the other. Vexen groaned, but
Xaldin was silent in his pleasure.
Roxas closed his eyes and tried not to think about what he was doing, He tried
not to think about the taste, the smell, or where both those cocks had been
before. He tried not to imagine he could still taste himself on them or smell
his own blood. His grip tightened and Vexen groaned appreciatively.
Roxas engulfed the artist in his mouth, working him as deep as he could into
his throat without choking. Vexen’s cold fingers tangled in his hair as his
hips wantonly thrust against Roxas’s face. The boy pressed his tongue to the
sensitive nerves around the head and dragged his teeth along the length of
Vexen’s shaft as he withdrew to breathe. Vexen threw his head back in a shower
of blonde tresses and moaned loudly as Roxas lapped at the slit. The precum was
bitter and salty, but he swallowed it anyway, just as he would when Vexen
finally came.
Xaldin was growing impatient of watching Roxas suck Vexen. He shifted and
pushed his elbow into Vexen’s side. Taking the hint before he was struck, Roxas
pulled his mouth from Vexen with a soft pop and turned his head to face Xaldin.
He opened his mouth as wide as he could to accommodate the thick girth, but the
skin at the corners of his lips strained painfully as Xaldin forced his way
inside.
“Mind those teeth,” Xaldin hissed in warning.
Roxas did his best, but there just wasn’t enough space inside his mouth for his
teeth, tongue, and Xaldin’s thick shaft. Instead, he tried to focus on licking
all the sensitive places and stroking everything his mouth couldn’t reach, but
Xaldin was too cruel and too impatient. He gripped Roxas’s hair in his fist and
rammed his cock deep into the boy’s throat. It was all Roxas could do to
breathe as Xaldin thrust into his throat repeatedly. The muscles spasmed and
clenched, rubbed raw by the largeness.
He gagged and choked, hardly aware that his grip on Vexen had tightened to the
point of pain, as Xaldin plowed into his mouth relentlessly. The cigarette hung
from the corner of his lips and hot ash rained down on Roxas’s upturned face
like searing sunlight. He whimpered and the little sound poured into Xaldin’s
shaft. With a muted groan of bliss, Xaldin spilled endlessly. The semen scalded
a path down Roxas’s raw throat and into his churning stomach.
When Xaldin pulled free, Roxas coughed into his hand hoarsely. Blood and semen
stained his palm.
“You already broke him, Xaldin,” Vexen said sternly. “You’re too rough.”
“Shut up,” Xaldin said and took a deep drag on his cigarette.
Roxas flinched away as the tip flamed orange and yellow. He could already feel
it burning into his skin, searing a fresh scar on top of injuries that already
marked him as their worthless property. Xaldin chuckled, but didn’t put it out
on Roxas’s skin. He took another long drag as he watched Roxas tremble.
With a shuddering breath, Roxas turned back to Vexen and realized that he was
gripping the artist’s cock hard enough to prevent the blood from flowing
correctly. Vexen’s shaft had gone dark angry red and the vein stood out
horribly, but precum dripped heavily from his tip.
“You neglected me, Roxas,” Vexen said with a smile. “You’d better make it up to
me.”
Roxas nodded weakly, loosened his grip, and quickly took Vexen back into his
mouth. He redoubled his efforts, hating himself every step of the decline into
hell. His lips and tongue were raw and sore, the back of his throat throbbed,
and nausea welled up like blood in a wound. Even so, he bobbed his head in
rhythm with the motions of his hands until Vexen had forgotten all of his rage
and replaced it with pleasure. Roxas swirled his tongue around the head and
Vexen came as suddenly as a storm.
His hot seed exploded in Roxas’s mouth, sour and salty, and the boy was nearly
sick. He forced back the urge to vomit and swallowed with great difficulty.
Then, he looked up at Vexen with glistening blue eyes and took in the sated
expression on the artist’s face.
“My turn,” Luxord said suddenly.
Roxas crumpled inwardly and his fingers knotted in the filthy sheets.
“Not in his ass,” Xaldin said in a fantastic exhalation of smoke. “Xemnas has
something good for him. Some kind of ‘welcome back’ present for our little slut
and he wants his ass to be perfect when he gives it to him.”
Roxas shuddered in revulsion, but some shattered part of him was grateful that
he wouldn’t be completely violated just yet. He would always postpone the
inevitable, even for a few measly seconds.
Luxord nodded as he approached Roxas. Almost gently, he gripped Roxas’s chin
and angled his head so that he was forced to look right into Luxord’s eyes.
“You were such an enjoyable fuck, Roxy,” he hissed. “It was nice to watch you
work. You really are a slut, aren’t you? It’s unfortunate that my son never got
to enjoy you.”
Roxas wet his lips weakly and his throat flashed as he swallowed painfully.
Luxord gripped his shaft in his hand and began to stroke. It didn’t take long
for his orgasm to reach him. Roxas’s face was beautiful and pale, his eyes were
tragic and lovely, and Luxord had so many images of the boy in the throes of
sex and pain. His seed splattered on Roxas’s face, burning his eyes and his
split lip cruelly.
Roxas winced and tried to pull away.
Luxord smeared the seed onto the split in his lip, pressing down so hard that
fresh blood welled from the wound. “I guess I’ll enjoy you in my son’s stead,”
Luxord hissed and glanced back at Cleo. “I’m looking forward to giving you
Christmas presents of my own.”
Then, laughing, the three men left.
Roxas wiped his face with his hands, but his eyes still burned and his lips
ached and his throat was raw.
Naked and shivering, Roxas stepped out of the bed, crossed the room, and
gathered Cleo in his arms. “It’s okay,” he whispered to the little puppy as she
timidly licked his chin. He pressed his hand to her head to stop her. The last
thing he wanted was for her to taste the semen that coated his skin. “I’ll… do
my best to protect you.” He didn’t promise the puppy that he could, but he
would do all he could and that was really all he could do.
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review! Because I've moved back to hatred...
***** Information and False Leads *****
*yawn* I have a headache.
                                     X X X
It turned out that once Axel Inferno got out in the great wide world and tried
to figure out how to track down this ‘Organization,’ he really had no clue how
to find them or even where to start looking. Where could he start?
He could go to the police, but they would put more effort into getting a cat
out of a tree than they would trying to protect a slave.
He could try a private investigator, but they probably wouldn’t care either. It
would be a waste of money.
Axel pulled the car over, put it in park, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“The Organization,” he said softly to himself and mulled the words over.
Titles could mean everything, but then they could mean nothing. The
Organization could be a group of escaped slaves that hated Roxas, though that
seemed unlikely. It could be an old master, but it was most likely a group of
them considering Roxas’s reactions. Titles were deceiving, after all. Axel had
once run into biker gang that called themselves ‘The Fat Middle-Aged Bald Guys
in Flannel Shirts,’ but he had also met a stripper who called herself ‘Hell’s
Angel’ and an assassin who went by the simple name, ‘For Hire.’
He decided that the title of ‘The Organization’ probably had little to do with
trying to figure out who had killed Cloud and was now after Roxas. However, it
was the only piece of the puzzle he had. If he didn’t start there, then where
could he start?
Groaning, he tilted his head back and sighed. “I should have asked Roxas more
questions when I had the chance,” he grumbled and pushed his hands through his
hair. “Damn it.”
Then, it hit him. There were all kinds of organizations when it came to
slaves—organizations for raping and breaking in sex slaves, organizations for
beating and torturing the rebellious ones, organizations for impregnating women
to make more slave babies.
Maybe one of those groups was after Roxas!
Axel thought a moment longer. No, he decided after a long moment. Those
organizations were all interested in selling slaves so there wasn’t much chance
that they would want Roxas back or would kill another slave to get him back.
Roxas had been sold multiple times and he was painfully broken. Their job was
over—finished, complete, that was it.
Axel took his lighter out of his pocket and flicked it restlessly. It was
probably an old master or masters of Roxas’s. Where could he find that
information? When he had bought Roxas at the Puppy Mill, he hadn’t come with
any paperwork so the records of his sale and purchases were probably long gone.
That was another dead end.
Or was it?
There had to be records of Roxas somewhere! Someone kept track of that, right?
Wasn’t there some kind of law about that? Like if a slave contracted an STD and
their master tried to sell them, they would be killed before they would be sent
to a new master. Someone had to do something to keep diseases under control
after all.
Axel rubbed his face with his hands hard and called Xion.
“What?” she answered in a whisper.
“Why are you whispering?” he asked curiously.
“The kids are napping and I do not want to wake them up,” Xion said. “What do
you want, Axel? Or are you just doing your two o’clock rounds to check in on
me?”
Axel resisted the urge to tell Xion that it sounded like she needed a nap
herself more than the kids did. Instead, he told her, “I need to find the sale
records for Roxas. Where do you think I should look?”
There was a moment of silence and then Xion spoke in a low voice like she was
in charge of a conspiracy. “Don’t tell anyone, Axel, but there are these secret
organizations all over the world devoted to the storing of knowledge,” she said
secretively.
“Where are they?” Axel asked eagerly. “Where can I find one?”
“They’re called… libraries,” she said sarcastically. Then, with a click, Xion
hung up.
“She didn’t have to get all snippy about it. I hope she takes a nap herself.”
Axel glowered at the phone for a moment and then repeated, “Libraries, huh?”
Then, Axel put the car in drive and motored off in search of one such secret
building. He wasn’t sure if a library would really keep records of slaves, but
it was probably a good place to look. They kept copies of newspapers and
magazines and such. It probably wasn’t too much of a stretch to put aside some
space for records, even for something as insignificant as slaves. Even if they
didn’t have any records, maybe they could point him in the right direction. It
was a good place to start. Xion was pretty smart.
As it turned out, libraries weren’t very secret at all and it didn’t take Axel
long to find one.
Without wasting any time, Axel walked right up to the front desk and talked to
the small birdlike woman who was sitting there with her half-moon glasses
perched on the edge of her nose. “Hello,” he began with his most charismatic
smile. “Can you tell me if you have records for slaves here?”
She adjusted her glasses as she looked up at him and blushed a little beneath
his bright smile. “Well,” she began. “What kind of records were you looking
for?”
“Records of sale,” Axel told her.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t keep those kinds of records here,” she told him.
“Do you know where I might find them?” Axel asked.
She took a pen from her desk drawer and wrote a veritable paragraph of
instructions. “Yes,” she began. “If you go to this address, you should be able
to find them.”
Once he was outside, Axel unfolded the piece of paper and stared at it. The
address was for the Puppy Mill and the woman had explained everything in her
long paragraph of directions. Apparently, every slave had detailed paperwork
that was supposed to go with them from master to master and the place where
they had been originally purchased was supposed to be keeping record of each
sale that passed through their hands. All the records were then logged online
and could be accessed by the bureau from anywhere. The man Axel had bought
Roxas from had to have Roxas’s records squirreled away somewhere. All Axel had
to do was demand it from him.
Easy enough, right?
As it turns out, not…
Within a few hours, Axel had driven all the way back to the Puppy Mill and was
back in the same filthy shop where he had originally seen Roxas. Then, the
boy’s eyes had been like beacons in the darkness and cold, but the place was
even more deserted after Christmas. A scrawny slave-girl was hunkered behind
the desk, naked and shivering, and Axel paused to wonder if this sick merchant
had forced a string of beads inside her body just like he had done to Roxas.
“What do you mean you don’t have the paperwork from him?” Axel demanded and
slammed his hands down on the counter. “You have to have it!”
“Well, I don’t,” the man said without looking up. He busily counted the money
from his last transaction.
Axel grabbed the trader by the front of his grubby shirt and hoisted him up so
their noses were just about touching. The money fluttered softly to the ground
like the feathers ripped from a bird. “Listen to me, bub, I need those papers
so you’d better find them. Got it?”
“Alright, alright,” the merchant said. He wasn’t nearly as intimidated as Axel
had hoped. “Let me have a look in the back.”
Axel released him with a hard shove.
The man hustled into the back of his shop and was gone for what felt like an
eternity. Axel was just about to start yelling and cursing when he emerged from
the back with a small beat-up laptop and an even crappier printer connected by
a slew of wires.
“Hang on a minute,” the merchant muttered as his chubby fingers moved across
the keys. “Ah, here you go.” The printer fired up with a lot of whining and
squealing. “I know I’m supposed to give out the paperwork to anyone who buys
him, but no one cares and it’s such a waste of paper.”
“You’re a model citizen,” Axel ground out. “I’m glad you’re doing something
good for the planet.”
The merchant glanced at him and then back at the computer. “Touchy, aren’t you?
Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
Finally, the printer halted and a small sheaf of paper remained in the tray
like a patient cobra waiting to strike. The merchant picked up the stack,
leafed through it, nodded to himself a few times, and then handed it to Axel.
“That’s all of it,” he explained. “It’s such a waste of paper and ink, isn’t
it?”
“Whatever,” Axel said and snatched the papers from his hands.
“What, no tip?”
Axel stopped in the doorway and turned to glare at the merchant. His cat-green
eyes flashed dangerously—he was so not in the mood for this shit. “Yeah,” he
snapped, “Feed everyone a decent meal and take a bath!”
Then, Axel stormed out of the shop and stalked through several drifts of snow.
He stuffed himself back into the warmth and safety of his car with a huff. God
damn it, he hated winter. Everything was made worse by the cold and the snow.
He wished they could just skip this season, but everything would be messed up
if there wasn’t any winter. Plus, what about Christmas?
Axel shook himself away from his hatred of the cold and turned his attention to
the sheaf of papers he had received from the merchant. Sighing, Axel leafed
through and skimmed for something that caught his eye before he read the whole
thing in detail. He didn’t really expect the title ‘The Organization’ to
printed there in big bold letters and it wasn’t. He had nearly worked his way
through all the pages when he found the listing of Roxas’s previous masters.
Roxas hadn’t been owned by many people, which would help shorten Axel’s search
fantastically. Only six people were documented as his previous masters,
including the merchant at the Puppy Mill. Axel’s own name was listed at the
bottom along with the sale date, a short description, and the declaration
‘clean.’
Roxas’s last master was…
Axel’s heart skipped a beat.
…Vexen Pride.
Axel quickly wrestled his phone out of his pocket, punched in Vexen’s number,
and pressed it to his ear. The empty ringing of the phone echoed the pounding
of his heart. Vexen didn’t answer. With a stifled curse, Axel redialed and
waited anxiously.
Finally, Vexen answered with a breathless, “Hello?”
“Vexen!” Axel shouted.
“Axel, shit—”
“Sorry, no time,” Axel said quickly. “Where’s Roxas?”
“I don’t know. I just got back from dropping off the tree ice sculpture and my
apartment’s been trashed!”
Axel’s throat closed over and he choked out, “Roxas is gone?”
A beat of silence passed and Axel could imagine Vexen turning over furniture as
he searched for the boy. “It looks that way,” he said finally.
“Shit!” Axel slammed his fist against the steering wheel.
“What’s going on?” Vexen asked.
“I’ll explain as soon as I get there,” Axel said.
“When will that be?”
“I’m outside the Puppy Mill so… an hour at least.”
Vexen was quiet for a moment, calculating. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll keep looking,
just in case, and I’ll call if I find him or anything else.”
Axel hung up sharply and threw his phone into the cup holder. “Shit!”
He cranked the engine over, put his foot to the floor, and the car lunged into
motion. It fishtailed on the icy road, but surged forward with otherworldly
purpose as Axel gripped the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. His heart pounded
and cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck despite the chill of the
weather. The snowy countryside sped by and light flurries began to fall in a
gentle curtain. The whap-whap of the windshield wipers sounded like the ticking
of a clock—counting down, running out.
                                     X X X
Gee, maybe Axel’s not so stupid after all. Let’s see how well he plays the
hero. I enjoyed the action. I like action. (And yes, Vexen’s last name is Pride
like his shield, get over it.)
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** He's Broken. Hallelujah. *****
YICRY: I definitely appreciate criticism and do take it with a grain of salt.
Just when it’s not going after the plot of my story. Eventually, I smooth out
all the plot rumples, but if everything was straight-forward it would be
boring. Plot-related criticism is the only kind I don’t take unless you’re
critiquing how a character behaved or if something was completely out there.
Everything in its place and a place for everything. I almost wish more people
reviewed like you so you could get something out of it rather than just a
benign “Good job.”
                                     X X X
Roxas lay down on the soiled mattress with Cleo cradled in his arms. He stroked
her soft fur and soaked up the warmth of her small body. Sleepily, he nestled
his face against her warm breathing side and tried to relax. Who knew how long
it would be before they came for him? Who knew how long it would be before he
ever managed to sleep again? Sleeping was impossible when his body was stuffed
with toys or he was bound in a terrible position. He should take advantage of
this moment to sleep.
Roxas closed his eyes and managed to nod off a short while later. The next
thing he knew, icy-cold hands were pinning him to the mattress. He cried out
and struggled weakly, but he heard a lighter flick and the searing tip of a
cigarette threatened his skin. He went still, his breath rushing from his lungs
desperately.
“Please,” he began. “Please, don’t.”
Vexen chuckled, “I like this side of you, Roxas. I missed hearing you beg.”
Then, he nibbled the shell of Roxas’s ear tenderly. His breath was hot and
loud, distracting.
Xaldin’s cigarette hovered just above the flesh of Roxas’s shoulder. He felt
the fine hairs there prickle and burn at the proximity, but the searing pain
did not come. A moment later, the cigarette withdrew and Roxas let out a breath
that was partly relief but it trembled with fear.
“Relax, Roxas,” Vexen whispered against his ear. “This will be good for you.”
“Please, don’t,” Roxas pleaded. “Don’t.”
Vexen pressed Roxas facedown into the mattress and pinned his wrists behind his
back. Xaldin’s hand replaced Vexen’s and kept Roxas from struggling with his
cruelly tight grip. Roxas whimpered and squirmed weakly as the thin sheet was
stripped away from his nakedness. Vexen’s cold hands moved down his sides
lightly and spread Roxas’s cheeks.
“What a pretty little rosebud,” Vexen remarked and dropped his mouth to the
cleft. His tongue was hot and wet, probing and circling Roxas’s core. His
tongue rasped over the small round scar that Xaldin had left even there and
Vexen pulled back slightly. His breath was cool on Roxas’s wet skin as he
spoke, “Damn it, Xaldin. You even burned him here.”
Xaldin shrugged. “None of you were here to stop me,” he remarked.
Vexen shook his head so that his hair lightly tickled Roxas’s bare back.
“That’s awful,” he said sourly and then dipped his tongue back against Roxas’s
sensitive skin.
The boy trembled and his entire body quivered as the sensations washed through
him. He had never been touched so gently. Vexen’s tongue was warm and soft, far
gentler than fingers or objects. His hips moved, writhing beneath the
onslaught. Vexen pressed one finger slowly into his body and the wetness made
the entrance easy. Roxas shivered as Vexen curled his fingers against the
little bundle of nerves inside his core. A second finger slid inside and
Vexen’s tongue dipped after it. Roxas whimpered and pressed his face into the
mattress to stifle the sounds.
“He’s ready,” Xaldin remarked.
“Give me the bottle,” Vexen said.
The glass was cold and unforgiving, but Vexen slid it gently into Roxas’s body.
He had his finger over the mouth of the bottle, but he slowly withdrew it until
only the bottle remained. Roxas was suddenly aware of a cold sensation seeping
into his core. Vexen wriggled the bottle gently and pushed it in a little
deeper, but not enough to cause pain.
Roxas heard liquid slosh. “W-what…?” he whispered. “Wh-what is t-that?”
“It’s alcohol,” Xaldin said shortly.
“We’re throwing you a little party,” Vexen said, “and we want you to enjoy it.”
“N-no,” Roxas protested. “Please, t-take it out of me.”
Vexen wriggled the bottle and listened to the liquid splash inside. “It sounds
like you’ve drunk about half of this right up,” he said. “Your body is greedy
and honest, even if that pretty mouth of yours is not.”
Roxas whimpered. He tried to squirm away, but Xaldin was holding him too
tightly and he was in no position to struggle. One wrong move and the bottle
could break inside his body. He would never recover from that. Helplessly,
Roxas lay on the filthy mattress as the bottle of alcohol filled him.
His mind began to feel blurred and hazy, slow-moving, as if he was trapped
within some sort of thick bubble.
“Do you like it, Roxas?” Vexen purred against his ear.
Roxas felt the bottle move inside his body, but he couldn’t find the will to
care. Another long moment passed and then the bottle was slipped out of him.
His muscles clenched at the loss and wetness pooled between his cheeks. He felt
fingers probing at his core, but they didn’t slip inside him.
Vexen chuckled.
“Here,” Xaldin said and fished something from his pocket.
Vexen accepted the small object, but Roxas didn’t feel it enter his body. “Now,
we wait,” Vexen said.
“Should we leave the bottle inside him?” Xaldin put in.
“It’s glass,” Vexen said. “We shouldn’t risk it. What if it breaks?”
Xaldin nodded and released Roxas’s wrists.
Then, without another word, they both left. Roxas listened to their footsteps
fading like drums at the end of a song. He rolled over and pressed a hand to
his stomach. The beginnings of hunger were beginning to gnaw at him and he was
cold inside. The alcohol wasn’t warming up, but it was making his body feel
warm and tired. Cleo was still lying beside him, staring with molten eyes, but
Roxas closed his. He couldn’t look at her, not right now.
Again, Roxas slept.
…
Minutes or centuries might have passed as the boy slept. Roxas became aware of
people talking but their voices were distant and garbled. The mattress felt
like it was moving underneath him, rocking with an unknown current. His body
was hot and cold at the same time. His skin prickled, his mouth was dry, his
limbs felt heavy.
Everything felt so strange.
Someone’s cool hands slid down his chest and paused to lightly pinch his
nipples. His body blazed with hot throbbing fire and pleasure rushed through
Roxas’s blood, scorching his lungs and leaving him gasping for breath. It felt
good and it shouldn’t have felt good. His eyes snapped open in shock. The
entire room was blurry and Vexen’s face was a pale smear recognizable only by
his blonde hair and cold hands. He wanted to squirm away, but his limbs felt
leaden. What was wrong with his body? What had happened?
“It looks like the drugs are working,” Vexen murmured. His hands roamed down
Roxas’s naked sides, wandered back to his chest, and rolled his pert nipples
lightly between his fingertips.
The boy twitched and strained away from the caress. A little whimpering cry
worked up his throat and escaped like a bird taking flight. An unfamiliar
feeling spread through Roxas, settling like a coil inside his lower belly and
tightening in his genitals. He thrashed faintly and warm hands closed down on
his thin wrists. Vexen continued to touch him and his fingertips were like ice,
but even so a pleasurable heat coursed through his body.
Something was wrong with him—very wrong, impossibly wrong!
Roxas’s mouth fell open, the words to beg and plead on the tip of his tongue,
but no sound came out save a muted croak. His throat burned painfully. His
mouth tasted like blood and semen. God, had his vocal chords been cut? Was he
mute now, unable even to scream in agony when he was violated? He had never
thought that he would miss screaming.
Roxas’s hazy eyes scanned his surroundings. He managed to pick out Cleo for
only a second and then his eyes fell on a play of light and shadows—pale hair,
tan skin, golden eyes shining through blurred darkness. There was a fourth
person in the room besides Vexen, Xaldin, and Luxord. Who was it? Who else was
here?
“Can we do it now? He’s as awake as he’s going to get,” Vexen asked in a
whining tone that didn’t suit him. “Axel just called me in a state of panic and
I told him I was at my apartment. I’ve got to get there in time to meet him and
play my part, but I don’t want to miss out.”
Roxas’s heart skipped a beat.
His kind master, Axel…
Was there a chance, even a small chance, that he would be saved? He hadn’t
allowed himself to think of Axel. The redhead wasn’t cruel enough to have
deposited him in the lap of the Organization. It was Luxord all over again. The
best of intentions had turned out wrong… so wrong. Someone had once said that,
‘The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’
“Of course,” the fourth man said and Roxas recognized the voice through the
haze in his mind. His blood ran cold. “I wouldn’t want you to miss this. It’s
going to be fun.”
A whimper escaped Roxas as Vexen’s cold fingers combed through his hair almost
gently. Luxord’s hand was on his hip, thumb stroking circles on the sharp bone.
Xaldin’s lips brushed across the back of his neck and a shudder ran through
him. Why did it feel good? God, they were going to rape him and his body was
burning in response. It wasn’t supposed to feel good!
“I know Axel hasn’t fucked him so he’s going to be tight. Let’s lube him up so
everything goes perfectly,” Luxord said to the others. “I don’t want us to have
to stop because we ripped him.”
Roxas squeezed his eyes shut, but tears leaked beneath his lids regardless. He
had no control over anything. He couldn’t even scream, his throat felt like
sandpaper. He could barely move, his limbs were too heavy. The sensations
coursing through his brutalized body made it hard to draw in a deep enough
breath. His small member was rising like a tender fern seeking the light.
Everything burned. He was on fire.
Was this… pleasure?
A lubricated finger pushed into his ass easily. His muscles couldn’t even
resist. Heat settled in his lower belly, curled there without moving. Xaldin
flicked the tip of his tiny rising member with his fingernail and the pain was
only more heat. Roxas’s lips cracked open, but no sound escaped.
“The drugs are perfect,” Vexen said as he wriggled his finger. “He’s not even
resisting.”
“Lube him up anyway,” Luxord put in and added his fingers to Roxas’s puckered
hole.
The boy cried out softly, but the sound was barely a whisper. He couldn’t even
fist his hands in the sheets. His body felt cooked, limp and soft and pliable.
He couldn’t fight back, he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t speak. He was a doll,
his limbs to be posed and arranged for their pleasure, or in this case his own.
His small member was shamefully hard, engorged by their blazing touches. Vexen
curled his fingers into Roxas’s prostate at the same time Luxord wrapped his
warm fingers around Roxas’s small member and the boy orgasmed on the spot. His
body wracked with shivers of pleasure and disgrace, his cheeks flushed, and a
little whimper slipped from his parted lips.
The men laughed.
“That was too easy,” Luxord said with a chuckle as he smeared the spent semen
on Roxas’s lips.
“Yeah, let’s do it now,” Vexen muttered. “I have to hurry.”
A ragdoll in their arms, Roxas’s body was adjusted and he stared blearily up
into their faces. They looked like gargoyles with their mouths maws of sadistic
smiles and their eyes as bright as black beetles. His throat burned with the
pleading question—why? Why are you doing this to me? But his voice wouldn’t
work and no one answered his silent pleas.
He already knew anyway.
They wanted to break him, shatter every inch of him, as punishment.
Because of his family…
His family had done something to them when Roxas was only a child. They had
told him the whole story once, but they had also been taking turns forcing him
to hold his breath until he nearly blacked out so he didn’t remember much. All
he remembered was that he had somehow done something to deserve this hell and
pain and suffering and torment. It was his family’s punishment.
Xaldin sat down heavily on the bed beside Roxas’s face and the entire mattress
jiggled. He gripped a fistful of the boy’s pale blonde hair and pulled some out
by the roots as he turned the boy’s face towards his hard member. “Suck me,
Roxas,” he said coldly. When Roxas didn’t immediately open his mouth, Xaldin
slapped his cheek hard so that Roxas’s head bounced on the mattress. As sick as
it was, even the slap sent a rush of heat to Roxas’s genitals.
What had they done to him?
Roxas couldn’t even keep his mouth closed once the order had filtered through
his hazy mind, no matter how much he usually fought against fellatio. His mouth
opened of its own accord and Xaldin slammed into the back of his throat. Roxas
felt the thick cock slide into the ragged sheath of his throat, forging deep,
but his gag reflex never responded even as he was certainly choked. It was
almost as if his body had died or at least abandoned him.
At the foot of the bed, Vexen spread Roxas’s thin legs high and apart. He
pushed into the boy’s body with painstaking slowness, letting Roxas feel every
inch of his cock. Heat raged through the boy’s blood, pooling in his stomach
once again.
“God, he’s as tight as when we first took him,” Vexen groaned, “and so hot. I
wonder if I’ll get drunk from the alcohol left inside him.”
Then, Vexen thrust only once. His length brushed Roxas’s throbbing sensitive
prostate and a second orgasm rocked the boy. Luxord chuckled and gathered the
semen on his fingertips, smearing it against Roxas’s cheeks and lips. Xaldin
smirked and slammed harder into Roxas’s strained mouth. Vexen began to move
with purpose, each thrust shooting through Roxas’s body like an individual
spark inside a firework. Even though he had already come twice, Roxas’s small
member hardened with interest again.
Roxas would have sobbed, but he felt too disconnected from his body and this
situation. It felt almost as if he was watching all this happen to someone
else.
Luxord grasped Roxas’s small cock and pressed it against his own, stroking them
in time with Vexen’s thrusts against his prostate. Roxas could feel another
orgasm building in the pit of his stomach like a bomb, like a flower opening,
like a fire raging out of control. God, why? He wasn’t supposed to like this
and he didn’t want this. It wasn’t supposed to feel good.
They were fucking raping him!
Tears leaked beneath Roxas’s lids and rolled slowly down his flushed face.
“Don’t cry, Roxy,” Luxord crooned. His tongue was hot on Roxas’s face as he
licked away the tears and then stroked his small member harder.
Somewhere in the room, Cleo whimpered.
Through his damp lashes, Roxas could see the fourth man. He was just sitting
there in a fall of chiaroscuro, watching with his golden eyes.
Roxas’s entire body was on fire. Warmth pooled in his lower belly, building
with each thrust of Vexen’s cock and each of Luxord strokes. Roxas had mostly
forgotten about the pain in his mouth and throat as Xaldin pounded into him.
The pleasure was too great, too hot, too strong. It was then that it happened.
With an abruptness that was painful, Luxord tied a small length of ribbon
around the base of Roxas’s small cock, cutting off his ability to orgasm, yet
the pleasure continued to build as Vexen brushed his prostate and Luxord
continued to pump him. Xaldin slammed deep into the back of his throat, cutting
off his air so that all the sensations grew even more acute and heated. Roxas
whimpered and squirmed between them. His hands wrapped around Luxord’s wrist
and clung desperately.
“Please,” Roxas whispered as best he could.
The vibrations of his weak voice went right into Xaldin’s shaft and he came
with a suddenness that was like a tidal wave. Hot semen filled Roxas’s mouth,
choking him. As soon as Xaldin pulled out, Roxas coughed and panted heavily.
His entire body heaved, wracked with pleasure and agony.
As Roxas’s body convulsed, his muscles clenched tightly around Vexen’s cock.
With a groan and a curse, Vexen spilled hot and sticky inside Roxas’s ass. He
remained inside Roxas for a long moment, watching as Luxord continued to stroke
both of them together.
Roxas’s smell member was flushed painful red, the vein standing out, but the
tight ribbon prevented him from coming. With a smirk, Luxord tightened his grip
and finally his seed splattered across Roxas’s chest and face. The feeling of
hot wetness sent a rush of pleasure into Roxas’s desperate member.
“Step away,” the fourth man said suddenly.
Without touching Roxas further, they stood on either side of the mattress, just
watching…
Roxas curled in on himself and sobbed. Tears streamed down his face as he
folded his hands over his throbbing erection. He tugged at the ribbon, but
Xaldin immediately pulled his hands away and pinned them easily to the soiled
mattress.
Luxord flicked the tip of Roxas’s swollen cock and watched it bob back and
forth. “It looks painful,” he remarked.
“How much longer are we going to make him wait?” Vexen asked the fourth man.
His heart was the softest out of all these men, though not by much.
“I was thinking a few hours,” Xaldin put in. “He should suffer.”
“No way!” Vexen protested. “I want to see it!”
“How about just five more minutes?” Luxord suggested.
Xaldin wrinkled his nose. “Fine,” he grumbled.
“Touch him,” the fourth man said, but he still didn’t move from his seat. His
golden eyes sparkled in the dim blurriness.
Roxas squirmed and made soft sounds of anguish as Luxord and Vexen caressed his
naked body, but he couldn’t escape Xaldin’s grip on his wrists. They pinched
and rolled his nipples, cupped his balls, stroked his aching member, and
slipped their fingers into his hot sheath. The teasing sensations flooded his
heated blood, but he couldn’t cum. A single bead of escaped seed rolled down
the side of his swollen cock, but it did nothing to ease his suffering. The
pressure only seemed to build more. Tears leaked from the corners of his blue
eyes and he whimpered thinly.
“Time’s up,” Vexen said suddenly.
Luxord flicked his small tortured member again.
“Beg,” the fourth man said.
A small croaking noise escaped Roxas’s raw throat. He wasn’t sure what was
sicker—the fact that they were actually going to make him beg for release or
that whatever they had done to him made it impossible to speak so he couldn’t
even beg. More tears streamed down his face and his lips moved weakly.
“How badly do you want it?” Luxord asked. He gripped Roxas’s cock solidly and
pumped it.
A moan escaped Roxas as his hips lifted in a half-realized thrust.
“Beg, slave,” the fourth man repeated.
Roxas tossed his head and gasped for air. His entire body quivered, his hips
lifted wantonly, and he whimpered. It was pathetic and sick, but he needed
it—he wanted it bad enough. Somehow, he found his voice and managed to speak,
“P-p-p-plea…”
Luxord and Vexen grinned at each other, laughing like jackals, and each picked
something to tease. Vexen even leaned down to engulf Roxas inside his hot mouth
while Luxord pushed his fingers inside the boy’s hot body. Xaldin twisted his
wrists together painfully to free one of his hands and pinched Roxas’s swollen
nipples. Roxas screamed, his voice echoing against the walls of the hellish
room that he couldn’t ever escape.
“Beg,” the shadowed man ordered.
“P-pl-plea-please,” Roxas sobbed.
Vexen licked the head of him, pulling another scream from the tortured boy.
“P-plea-please, l-l-l-let m-me…”
“Let you what?” Luxord added cruelly.
“L-l-let m-me-e… c-c-c-c-cu…” He just couldn’t get the words out. If he begged
for this, begged for release, something inside him would break and it would
never be repaired. He would become completely broken, not even a doll, not even
a pet… just a hole for them to fuck, just a dump for their semen, just a slab
of meat to be tortured and burned. If he begged for this, he’d be even less
than a slave. He’d be nothing…
Luxord squeezed his balls, tearing a scream from his dry throat.
“Beg,” the fourth man said again.
Vexen sucked hard, licking and teasing his over-sensitive head. His teeth
scraped, but a new wave of heat washed into Roxas’s belly and coiled there like
a viper.
It was hopeless, though, and Roxas couldn’t resist. He never had been able
to—not at their hands, not as broken as he was. “P-plea-please!” he begged
them, his voice cracked and sputtered as the hot pleasure coursed through his
burning veins. “L-let me c-cu-cum!”
The ribbon tied at the base of his cock was released and Vexen removed his
mouth. Xaldin lifted Roxas’s head from the mattress and pried his mouth open
with his thumb. Vexen gave his member one final explosive stroke and it was as
if Roxas had never orgasmed in his life. The hot salty seed filled his open
mouth and splattered on his chest. Panting desperately, Roxas collapsed, but he
still couldn’t move. He remained lying on the filthy mattress, spread-eagled as
they had left him.
“That was fun. How many of those drugs to we have left?” Vexen asked.
“Plenty,” Luxord said and then laughed. “And I could always get more.”
“Well, I’d better go play my part. I am an artist after all,” Vexen said
dramatically.
“A starving artist,” Xaldin snapped.
Vexen made an indignant sound and then all was silent. They had left.
Only the fourth man remained. He was cloaked in shadows, but his golden eyes
stood out, just watching.
Tears dripped slowly down Roxas’s cheeks, mingling with his own seed. That was
it… He had enjoyed being raped. He had even begged for it. Though he felt Cleo
jump onto the bed beside him and snuggle against his chest, it did nothing to
comfort him. This was the final nail in his coffin. He was ruined, broken
beyond repair, destroyed completely.
“He’s broken,” Roxas whispered in his own voice. “Hallelujah.”
“That’s exactly right,” the fourth man said. Then, he was gone too.
                                     X X X
And… THE END!
(Just kidding.)
Review or it might be though.
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Fire Against Ice *****
Well, does anyone know who the mysterious fourth man was? I’ve said his name a
couple times, but I was trying to be sneaky about it anyway.
                                     X X X
Axel barely put his car in park before he leaped from the driver’s seat and
bolted up the front steps of Vexen’s apartment building. He slipped on some ice
on the stairs, went down on his knees, tore his jeans, and kept going. They
were only pants—he could get new ones or he could even patch them, but if
someone else raped Roxas… His heart told him that it would all be over. There
would be no hope, no chance to heal the boy, no matter how kind he was or what
he did.
“Please,” Axel panted between breaths as he threw open the front door and
sprinted up the stairs to Vexen’s apartment. “Please don’t let it be… too
late.”
He exploded into Vexen’s apartment, gasping for breath. It was worse than he
had expected. The couch had been overturned, the television was lying on the
floor, and all the drawers of the small desk had been yanked open. Papers,
clothes, and various objects were strewn all over the floor. The fridge had
been pulled open and all the food was laying on the kitchen floor. There His
were no signs of Roxas or Cleo. The apartment had been thoroughly trashed and
there were signs of a struggle everywhere, but…
Something was off.
Vexen was calmly gathering ice-carving tools off the floor and laying them out
on the kitchen table. His large freezer hadn’t been touched even though
everything had been torn of out the fridge. As he cleaned up, a little smirk
decorated Vexen’s lips. It was not the expression to be expected on the face of
someone who had had their home ransacked nor was it the expression of a friend
who had lost a treasured possession they had promised to take care of.
Axel stooped to pick up a few magazines lying in the threshold. “There’s no
sign of Roxas?” he asked as smoothly as possible.
“Not that I can find,” Vexen said without taking his eyes from the mess on the
floor. “Like I told you on the phone, I went to drop off the tree sculpture and
when I came back… everything was like this.”
“What could have happened?” Axel asked as he set the magazines down neatly.
Axel and Vexen had been friends since high school and Vexen usually had his
back. Just because Vexen had been Roxas’s last master didn’t necessarily mean
he was part of this Organization. Axel didn’t want to jump all over his friend
if he hadn’t done anything wrong… even though his gut was screaming that
everything was wrong with Vexen’s reactions.
The artist rolled his shoulders. “Who knows? I guess that Organization got
Roxas.”
Axel’s heart skipped a beat and he rose to his full height, barring the front
door with his body. “That’s a little strange, Vexen.”
“What is?” Vexen asked nonchalantly. He straightened and met Axel’s eyes with a
crisp smile.
“You know, I don’t want to hurt myself jumping to conclusions and all,” Axel
said slowly, “but I don’t remember ever telling you about the Organization.”
Several beats of silence passed between them.
To Vexen’s credit, if he was lying or had something to do with Roxas’s
disappearance, his face didn’t outwardly show it. His expression remained as
cool and pale as ice. He wet his lips and finally explained, “Roxas told me.”
Axel closed the door quietly at his back and studied his friend across the
subdued mess of the apartment. “And,” he said, “now Roxas is gone.”
Vexen’s eyes met Axel’s in a clash of green.
Then, Vexen grabbed one of his ice-carving tools and lunged at his longtime
friend. Axel wasn’t a pushover to begin with and he was barking mad now. He
barely reacted, but his movements were as quick and direct as a viper striking.
He grabbed the sharp tool, twisted Vexen’s wrist with a crack, tossed the
weapon away, and released his injured betrayer. Howling, Vexen staggered
backwards and then came at Axel in a waist-high head butt. Axel kicked him in
the face and then threw him down on the floor. He sat all his weight on Vexen’s
stomach and twisted his arm by the fingers to the point of breaking them.
“You’re going to tell me the truth, Vexen,” Axel hissed. “And you’re going to
do it now.” Though Axel carried a lighter, he had given up smoking a long time
ago. Now, he flicked the lighter and singed some of Vexen’s pale hair. “You’re
part of the Organization, aren’t you?”
“Stop!” Vexen tried to jerk away, his eyes wide at the sight of the flame so
close to his face, but Axel was too heavy and too strong. “Wait!”
They were polar opposites—always had been and always would be. Vexen was ice
and Axel loved fire.
“Tell me where Roxas is, Vexen,” Axel snarled. “I know you know.”
“He’s just a fucking slave!” Vexen protested. His voice rose higher and higher
with fear and his eyes shone with the firelight. “Let me go! Damn it! What does
it matter?”
Coldly, Axel burned his friend’s earlobe.
Vexen screamed, howling and cursing. The air filled with the scent of cooked
meat and burned hair.
“Tell me!” Axel shouted and bent Vexen’s fingers until he heard the bones
grind. “I’ll keep burning you. If that doesn’t work, I’ll break every one of
your fingers until you tell me!”
“I’m your friend!”
“Do you think that means anything now? You betrayed me, Vexen,” Axel hissed. He
continued to bend his fingers, feeling Vexen’s body twitch and tremble in pain
beneath him. “I wonder what an ice sculptor would be without his fingers.”
Vexen whimpered, “Stop! Stop. I’ll tell you.”
Axel loosened his grip, but only marginally. “Where is he?”
“The Organization has him.”
“Where?” Axel ground out.
“I don’t know,” Vexen said but his eyes darted.
“You’re lying.”
“I really don’t know,” he repeated.
Axel flicked the lighter and stared at the long hot flame. “Where should I burn
you first? Or would you rather I broke a finger?”
“He’s in our house!” Vexen gasped out.
“Where?” Axel demanded.
Vexen hesitated.
Without warning, Axel burned him. The flesh beneath his chin curled, peeled,
blackened, but Axel didn’t keep the flame there long enough to cause severe
damage.
Howling in agony, Vexen screamed and his voice mingled with pleas for Axel to
stop.
“I won’t ask you again, Vexen,” Axel said once the screaming stopped. “No
amount of begging will make me stop.”
Sobbing, Vexen choked out the address.
Axel put the lighter away and stared down at his friend. He fisted a hand in
Vexen’s shirt, pulled him close, and dug his fingers into the burn beneath his
chin.
“Stop! Damn it,” Vexen pleaded. “Stop. That hurts!”
“Did you stop when Roxas begged you to?” Axel snarled.
Vexen managed to smirk through his pain. “You should hear the kid scream,
Axel,” he snickered. “It’s like music. And the faces he makes when you fuck
him—”
Axel punched him in the face until his friend lost consciousness. “You should
see him smile a little bit,” Axel hissed at the fallen artist, his throat tight
with pain and blame. “It’s almost like heaven on earth, you fucking bastard.”
He kicked Vexen one final time before leaving the wrecked apartment.
If only Roxas could just hold on until he got there.
…
Roxas’s body was hot and cold, throbbing with pleasure and aching with agony,
searing and frozen all at the same time. The mattress felt like sandpaper and
silk on his oversensitive skin. His limbs were too weak to allow him to move
much, but he managed to slide his fingers between his thighs. His core was hot
and aching, his small member pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and he was
painfully tempted to touch himself. He wasn’t sure why that idea sent a spike
of distress through his skull.
Whimpering, he rolled over on the mattress and cupped his hands over his aching
genitals. A small soft tongue licked a cut on his back and the sensation moved
between his legs. Tears rolled down his flushed face and his dry lips parted to
cry out in suffering. Why…? Why did his body feel like this? Everything was
blurred, hazy, mingled with feelings that shouldn’t go together.
Somewhere, a door opened and then closed. There were footsteps.
“Look at him,” a familiar voice said.
“He finally looks like the little whore he was meant to be.”
Hot hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position. A
familiar blonde man with a sparkling grin lifted a small puppy from beside the
boy and set her on the floor. The puppy whimpered, looking up at him with
mournful eyes. Roxas limply hung from the grasping hands, unable to pull away
and unwilling to lean into the touch.
“Now that Xemnas is finished with him and Vexen is gone, we should be free to
do as we like to him, right?” asked the blonde.
The dark-haired man nodded.
Luxord pulled Roxas closer, gripping his chin with his fingertips, and pushed
his tongue into the boy’s hot mouth. Roxas moaned quietly and his eyes
fluttered closed yet a chill of horror moved through his body. He weakly
struggled and then flopped backwards on the mattress. His vision was hazy and
blurred as Luxord leaned over him.
“I’ve been looking forward to having you again, Roxy,” Luxord hissed as he
unbuckled his belt.
Luxord’s fingers were cool on Roxas’s overheated skin. He gripped the boy’s
thin thighs, spread them wide, and pushed in slowly. His shaft was large and
hot. Roxas threw his head back and several weak whimpers and moans escaped his
lips. Tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped into the soiled sheets.
“No-o,” he moaned.
“Yes,” Luxord said.
The man pinched his swollen nipples and wrapped his fingers around the boy’s
aching shaft. He began to stroke in time with his deep thrusts. Pleasure
scalded through the boy’s body, searing into him like a brand even as another
moan escaped. His body quivered, trembling like a leaf beneath the onslaught of
feelings and touches. His slender legs curled around Luxord’s waist, pulling
him closer even his fingers twitched with the desire to push him away.
Spikes of white-hot pleasure coursed through the boy’s beaten broken body as
Luxord pounded into him relentless. His vision was blurred and out-of-focus so
Roxas let his eyes fall closed. What did it matter if they used him until there
was nothing left? It didn’t seem like there was much of him left anyway. A coil
of pleasure welled in the boy’s stomach and burst in an explosion of white
light that blinded him. Hot semen splattered on his face and chest. Shame
followed it like a splash of icy water, but the heat swiftly returned to wash
it away.
Luxord smeared it into his skin, chuckling, as he caressed the curve of Roxas’s
thin ribcage. “You came again, Roxy,” he hissed. “You like this. You like being
used like this, don’t you?”
Roxas’s lips quivered. His throat went dry and closed over the words.
It felt so good, but…
Some shard of his heart knew something was wrong with him.
Roxas was just a collection of hazy feelings—pain, violation, fear, pleasure,
shame, longing, horror, desire… mostly pain and pleasure. Luxord pulled away
and Xaldin took his place. He twisted Roxas facedown on the mattress and
gripped his thin arms in a painfully vice. With a groan of delight, he forced
its way inside until his large cock was buried to the hilt. The angle was sharp
and different, spreading the boy’s body open wider than it had been before.
“Damn it, Luxord,” Xaldin hissed out. “He’s all wet with your cum.”
Xaldin began to thrust, slamming his hips into Roxas’s bruised cheeks. He
whimpered weakly and shuddered beneath Xaldin’s hands. The boy’s small body was
stretched open in a way that it hadn’t been for a while. He hadn’t been used
since a kind and strange redhead had bought him. Who had bought him?
He couldn’t remember.
He couldn’t remember his own name.
Xaldin was grunting like a hog, his thrusts deep and feral. He dipped down, bit
into the junction of Roxas’s neck and shoulder, and drank the blood noisily.
Roxas cried out, but the agony was half-pleasure. Xaldin plowed into him
ruthlessly and tore the boy apart at the seams. Darkness began to seep in at
the edges of his vision. Could this be death? No, it hurt too much to be death.
They said a name. “Roxas!”
Whose name was it?
It must have been his, but he couldn’t remember it.
Xaldin continued to thrust inside of him, filling and emptying his tormented
body like waves crashing against a cliff. Even though the boy knew he should be
feeling pain, he didn’t. He only felt hot coursing pleasure that raged in his
blood and brain until everything else was gone from his mind.
Why was he like this? Who was he?
It didn’t matter.
Finally, Xaldin spilled inside him, grunting, and it seared hot inside the
boy’s ruined body. He pulled out and rolled Roxas forcefully onto his back. The
boy lay there like a doll, limbs splayed and legs spread. His small member was
stiff and he pleadingly pressed his hands over it.
Xaldin pulled his hands away and Luxord dropped in between his thighs. His grip
was tight, cutting off the impending orgasm, as he dipped down and drew a long
slow lick across the head of Roxas’s small member. The boy trembled, his hips
lifted wantonly, and his lips parted in a dry quiet plea.
“Say it, Roxy,” Luxord whispered. His breath wafted hot against the boy’s wet
quivering shaft. “Beg for it.”
“P-please,” the boy whispered.
Xaldin put a cigarette in the corner of his lips, but didn’t light up. He
looked down at Roxas with hard eyes. “Do it,” he said.
“Pl-please, let m-me,” he whimpered.
Luxord stroked and licked Roxas’s small member. The pleasure welled up in
Roxas’s belly to the point of pain. His skin burned and prickled, but Luxord
continued his onslaught of pleasurable torment. He closed his mouth over Roxas
and swallowed him deep. The boy’s fingers curled desperately and his hips
bucked weakly.
“Let m-me, pl-plea-ease.”
Luxord pushed his fingers into Roxas’s wet body and stroked the ravaged walls
inside. He curled his fingers and jabbed them against the boy’s swollen
prostate. White-hot bolts of bliss speared through Roxas’s body like lightning
in the dark. He cried out weakly, but Luxord’s grip was too tight to allow
orgasm.
“Please!” the boy gasped. His voice rose, whimpering and crying, pleading and
begging. “Please, it hurts! Let me—”
Luxord released his grip and Roxas’s orgasm rocked through his small body like
an earthquake. Luxord chuckled and sat back, watching the thin strands of seed
spurt forth in weak little bursts. Roxas had already been forced to come so
many times that there was hardly anything left inside him. Xaldin freed the
boy’s wrists and let him run his hands over his sticky semen-splattered chest.
“You begged to be raped, Roxy,” Luxord whispered and pinched his raw nipple
lightly.
The boy whimpered and tried to curl weakly on his side, but his limbs were too
weak to support him. Xaldin lit up his cigarette and sucked in a deep lungful
of smoke as he stared down at Roxas. Semen seeped from inside Roxas’s body and
dripped between his cheeks to soil the filthy sheets.
“You begged for it,” Xaldin said and blew smoke in Roxas’s face.
The boy’s entire body shook with the viciousness of the hacking cough. He
whimpered and wheezed for breath, but there was blood on his chapped lips. His
pale hair and skin blended in with the filthy white sheets, patterned with
bruises and blood and scars like tears in the cloth.
“You begged us to rape you.”
“Yes,” the boy whispered. His voice was broken and cracked like ice when liquor
was poured over it. “Please, fuck me harder, Masters… Please, let me come.”
…
Axel drove slowly down the thin winding drive that spiraled into dark woods. He
didn’t want to risk being stuck in the snow, not now, not when Roxas needed him
so desperately. Finally, a quaint cottage came into view. The number on the
small mailbox was thirteen. Though this was the address Vexen had given him,
Axel couldn’t be sure it was the right place. Axel assumed that Vexen had
cracked like a ceramic plate under the threat of being burned and tortured, but
it was possible that he had been brave enough to lie to Axel.
Axel took the tire iron from beneath his seat, weighed it in his cold hands,
trudged through the thick snow, and mounted the porch steps as quietly as he
could. He tried the front door and the knob turned easily in his hand,
unlocked.
‘Lazy stupid bastards,’ Axel thought as stepped inside silently.
The cottage was just as quaint inside as it was outside. It looked like
someone’s grandmother had decorated it, but there were signs of the truth here
and there. Beer bottles littered the kitchen counter, bloodied whips lay out on
the table, and there were several bottles of pills strewn on the coffee table.
Axel could make out the word ‘aphrodisiac’ in the same terrible handwriting
that had written the note Chives had found in Cloud’s pants. Somewhere inside
the house, Axel could hear people grunting and speaking and a puppy
barked—Cleo, Roxas’s Christmas present.
Axel searched the house slowly and cautiously, peeking in doorways in search of
Roxas. Finally, he found a basement door. As he eased it open, the voices
became clearer, but he didn’t like the sounds in the background—the slap-slap
of flesh on flesh, small whimpers, moans and grunts, the creaking of a
mattress. Axel’s heart skipped a beat and he steeled himself for what he might
find when he walked down the stairs.
Axel adjusted his grasp on the tire iron and crept silently down the stairs. He
reached the bottom just as two men took a small step back from Roxas’s abused
broken body. Cleo stood in the shadows of the small room, her eyes glittering
as she whimpered softly.
“You begged us to rape you,” one of them said cruelly.
Then, they laughed like jackals.
The larger black-haired man’s phone rang.
“Hello? Yeah… What?! Alright, we will.” Luxord hung up and his eyes roved over
Roxas hungrily. Axel’s heart stuttered to a horrified stop in his chest. What
was his father doing here, raping Roxas again? “We need to get him out of here.
Axel figured it out and he’s on his way here.”
It was bad luck that Vexen had called just then, but it seemed that even the
Organization’s bad luck had just run out.
“Vexen’s such a bitch,” Xaldin growled and took a long drag on his cigarette.
“He says Axel burned him,” Luxord explained.
“So he sold us out, the pussy,” Xaldin hissed and leaned over the bed with the
burning point of his cigarette poised over Roxas’s naked chest.
Axel’s eyes widened. He didn’t want to attack them when they were together—they
might be able to overpower him, but he couldn’t just stand here and let them
burn Roxas. He had to do something! Silently, he came into the room and swung
the tire iron at the back of Luxord’s head. The man went down like a house of
cards. He probably didn’t even know that his son had knocked him out.
“What the—?” Xaldin demanded.
Axel swung and Xaldin caught the tire iron in his bare hands.
“Oh, you’re here to save the little slut, aren’t you?” Xaldin snarled and
ground his burning cigarette into Axel’s knuckles to try to get him to release
the tire iron.
Axel hissed in pain, but didn’t let go. He had been burned before—not with a
cigarette, but with his lighter. Even so, he could cope with the pain.
Xaldin’s lips pulled back over his teeth in a feral sneer. “You’re a tough one,
aren’t you?”
Before Axel could respond, Xaldin ripped the tire iron from his hands and
smashed it ruthlessly across Axel’s chest. Something cracked and his skin
split. Pain flared in a white-hot blaze and his vision danced with black spots,
tunneling out in anguish. Axel fought to stay on his feet, staggering backwards
as Xaldin swung at him again. His back hit the wall and Xaldin closed in.
Axel leveled his palms against the wall and kept his eyes on Xaldin, waiting
for the moment to strike. Xaldin chuckled as he approached and tossed the tire
iron nonchalantly from hand to hand. Axel shifted his feet and tried to ignore
the searing pain in his abdomen. Finally, Xaldin was close enough. Axel pushed
off from the wall and grabbed the tire iron. The pair grappled for it, cursing
and swearing.
Xaldin managed to strike Axel in the chest again, reigniting the searing pain.
Axel grit his teeth, but refused to let go of the tire iron. In life, there was
only one pain that no man could overcome and Axel took full advantage of it. He
slammed his knee into Xaldin’s groin and shoved his nuts halfway into his chest
cavity. Xaldin went down with a howl, clutching himself desperately. Axel
kicked him brutally in the face and just like that, it was over.
Roxas was still lying on the soiled mattress, naked and unmoving. The only sign
that he was even alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest and the steady
seeping of blood from his split lip.
Axel rushed to Roxas’s side and gingerly touched his flushed face. “Roxas, can
you hear me?” he asked quickly. “Are you okay?”
Roxas’s blue eyes were glazed, unseeing and out-of-focus. “P-please,” he
whispered brokenly. “F-fuck me h-harder, Masters…”
“Goddamn it,” Axel swore. He quickly pulled off his winter jacket, swathed
Roxas’s naked body inside the still-warm fabric, and gathered the boy’s thin
body in his arms. “Cleo, come on,” he called to the puppy and she bounded up
the stairs after him.
Axel kicked open the cabin’s front door and carried Roxas to the car, settling
him in the passenger seat gently. Cleo clambered in after him and Axel slammed
the door. He paused for a brief moment, glaring at the quaint little cottage.
He hoped that with this—two of their men unconscious and the other burned—the
Organization would get the message that Axel was not to be fucked with and
neither was Roxas.
                                     X X X
Yes, I realize that we’ve, for all intents and purposes, come full circle, but
this is actually going to give everyone a nice step in the right direction.
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Aftershock: Pt I *****
I practically doubled the length of this chapter when I edited it.
                                     X X X
The drive from the Organization’s cabin back to Axel’s manor felt as if it
lasted an eternity. The snowy road stretched on forever like a black ribbon
amidst so much pristine whiteness. Axel’s chest throbbed painfully with each
breath he drew, but the gash had finally stopped bleeding. Crumpled in the
passenger seat and swathed in Axel’s coat, Roxas whimpered and whispered
occasionally. He shifted restlessly beneath the seatbelt, writhing as if in
pain. Sweat beaded on his pale brow and ran slowly down his jaw.
“Hang in there, Roxas,” Axel gasped out. “We’re almost home.”
Roxas whispered something ribald, but it was mostly lost beneath the whap-whap
of the windshield wipers.
Finally, Axel pulled into his driveway and let his breath out in a relieved and
pained rush. The beautiful villa looked just like a sanctuary, its windows
glowing with warm amber lights and the Christmas tree visible through the
curtains. Axel honked the horn a few times until Chives came outside. He had
never been so happy to see the butler.
Chives rushed down the steps and through the snow to the haphazardly-parked
car. “Goodness,” he gasped. “Why are you back so soon?” His eyes roved Axel and
fell on the hideous bloody gash that spanned across his torso from shoulder to
hip. “What happened?”
“Long story,” Axel wheezed out. “I’ll tell you later. Just… help me get Roxas
inside.”
Chives nodded, pulled open the passenger door, and gently lifted the small boy
into his arms. Cleo leaped out of the car and immediately sank deep into the
snow. Axel paused to scoop her up and hissed in pain as his chest throbbed.
“Should I call Riku?” Chives asked once they were inside the house.
Axel shook his head. “Maybe later. Right now, let’s just get Roxas upstairs.”
“What about you?” Chives asked with concern.
“I’m okay,” Axel said and dragged himself up the stairs after the butler. “I’ve
been through worse.”
“Listen to your breathing,” Chives protested. “You probably have some broken
ribs.”
“Later,” Axel repeated. He opened the door to Roxas’s bedroom and staggered
inside.
Chives laid Roxas down gently on the bed and stepped back to look the boy over.
His frail wrists were circled with bruises, his lip was split, and his skin was
several shades warmer than it should have been. He was naked beneath Axel’s
winter coat and something sticky and white was smeared over most of his chest
and parts of his face.
“God,” Chives whispered.
Axel sat down heavily beside Roxas on the bed and brushed the boy’s pale hair
away from his battered face. Roxas whimpered, his tongue darted out to wet his
bloodied lips, and the muscles in his neck strained in no particular direction.
“Do it,” he whimpered weakly. “Please, let me…”
“You can go, Chives,” Axel breathed out. “If I need you, I’ll call for you,
okay?”
The butler nodded and left quietly.
Axel sat beside Roxas for a few short minutes, trying to remember how to
breathe through the agony building up in his shattered chest, but the pain
didn’t fade. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. Maybe something really was
wrong with him, but he didn’t have time to worry about himself now. He had
gotten Roxas into this situation, handed him back to Vexen and the Organization
on a silver platter. He might as well have done this to Roxas with his own
hands. Axel had to take care of the poor violated child first.
Swallowing back a cry of pain, Axel gathered Roxas in his arms and carried him
to the bathroom. Bending over to set him gently in the bottom of the tub felt
like another blow and Axel almost dropped him. Gently, he tugged the winter
coat away from the boy’s nude body and tossed it aside. Then, Axel crumpled to
his knees beside the tub and sucked in a deep breath that was rife with pain.
He started the water on low, did his best to shield Roxas from the cold spray,
and waited for it to warm.
Finally, Axel began to rinse Roxas off. The boy whimpered and flinched beneath
the warm spray, alternately shifting into it and trying to pull away. Semen and
faint traces of blood swirled away down the drain. Axel felt nauseous, but he
forced himself to watch. Roxas had gone through so much and it was all Axel’s
fault. If he hadn’t failed so thoroughly at protecting Roxas, maybe the boy
wouldn’t be in this position right now.
Roxas whimpered, “Please, please… I need to…” His small hands roamed over his
heaving chest, pausing at his raw nipples to pinch and rub them, before he
pulled the touch away with a sob. He clutched at the side of the tub and a
tremor ran through his small body.
“Roxas,” Axel whispered. “What’s wrong?”
The boy didn’t respond. His fingers twitched as they carded over his narrow
thighs and dipped between them. With a jolt, he moved his hands away, but they
wandered back a few moments later. His small member was swollen and flushed
red, but it was painfully erect.
“Roxas?” Axel murmured.
The boy curled his fingers around his small erection and then clutched the side
of the tub again. He whimpered and let out a small keening moan. He curled in
on himself, pressing his body against the side of the tub. Abruptly, his
bruised hips thrust weakly against the cool porcelain.
Axel gently cupped Roxas’s bottom and spread his cheeks cautiously. Semen
seeped from inside him, but there was no sign of a toy that would be causing
his arousal. Axel turned off the warm water, wrapped Roxas in a towel, lifted
him from the tub, and cradled him gently in his lap as he dried him off.
“What did they do to you, Roxas?” Axel whispered.
The boy twitched in Axel’s arms. As Axel gently rubbed the boy’s skin dry,
Roxas grew more and more agitated. His hips rolled, his hands clutched, and his
small member stood out against the towel. Small beads of wet precum gathered on
the tip and began to seep through the fabric.
Roxas’s chapped lips parted and he whimpered out, “Please, let me… Master, I
need it. I want it… please.”
“Did they drug you?” Axel whispered. He had seen drugs at the cabin, but he
couldn’t be sure the Organization had used them on Roxas. On the other hand,
what else would cause Roxas to behave like this? Axel gently brushed the boy’s
pale hair out of his face and Roxas writhed in his arms with a stifled moan.
“Roxas, do you remember if they gave you anything?”
The boy squirmed in Axel’s arms, grinding his small hips against the towel.
“Please, Master,” he whispered. “Let me… let me…”
“Can you even hear me?” Axel breathed out.
Roxas didn’t respond save to whimper and moan quietly. A single tortured tear
slid down his flushed cheek.
Axel stopped touching him and just held him gently until he calmed as much as
he was going to. Then, he carried Roxas back to the bed and laid him down
gingerly. He took a set of pajamas out of the dresser and carefully dressed
Roxas. He tucked the boy in beneath the covers and then slumped down beside the
bed to put his head between his knees. God, he felt so sick.
“Chives?” he called weakly.
As if the butler had been waiting outside the door, he entered the room
immediately and knelt at Axel’s side. “Are you alright?”
Axel nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Just… help me treat this.” He gestured to
the wound bisecting his chest and picked weakly at the dried blood that fused
his t-shirt to the wound.
“You should go to the hospital or at least let me call Riku,” Chives insisted.
“I’m okay,” Axel said breathlessly. “I just want to be here when Roxas comes
around.”
Chives glanced at the boy as he tossed on the bed, whimpering and moaning.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“I think he might have been drugged,” Axel whispered. “He’s…”
Chives silenced Axel with a single look, gently helped the young master to his
feet, and led him to his own room. Axel eased himself into an overstuffed
armchair with a groan while Chives dug through the bathroom cabinets for the
first aid supplies.
“Just cut this shirt off,” Axel called. “It’s wrecked anyway.”
“Yes sir,” Chives said. He returned to Axel’s side with a warm wet cloth,
antiseptic, and scissors. With all the care of a mother, Chives cut the shirt
away from Axel’s chest and hissed as he looked at the wound. “What were you hit
with?”
“A tire iron,” Axel said. “One of those Organization assholes got the better of
me.”
Chives shook his head. “You’re lucky you weren’t injured more seriously,” he
murmured.
Gently, the butler wiped some of the dried blood away. Axel’s chest was
hideously bruised in a long streak where the tire iron had struck him and the
skin was split in a few places along the line. Gingerly, Chives probed his
fingertips against the wound and gauged Axel’s reactions to each touch. When
Axel yelped in pain, Chives gently pressed his palm over the rib, but he
couldn’t feel an obvious break.
“Your rib is probably cracked,” he said softly and poured some antiseptic onto
a paper towel. “You know this will sting.”
Axel nodded and gripped the sheets tightly.
Chives dabbed the alcohol against the places where the skin was split. When he
finished, he asked, “Are you planning on taking a shower now?”
Axel shook his head. “No, I’m going to go back to Roxas. I want to be there for
him since this is all my fault.”
Chives sighed, but nodded in understanding. He taped a long swath of gauze over
the wound and helped Axel into a shirt that buttoned down the front. Then, he
mopped some blood off Axel’s face and smoothed back his flame-red hair. “You’re
a good person, Axel,” he said.
“It doesn’t feel that way,” Axel murmured.
Chives ruffled his hair affectionately, but didn’t speak.
“Give Riku a call,” Axel called after Chives. “Just tell him what happened and
ask him if there’s anything I should do.”
Chives nodded and left Axel alone with his thoughts.
…
Roxas came back to his senses slowly. He could hear someone else’s raspy
breathing so he knew it wasn’t alone. He opened one eye and scanned the perfect
white ceiling before closing his eyes again. At least, he didn’t seem to be
trapped in that hellish basement anymore. He was no longer naked. He wearing
clean cotton pajamas and had been tucked neatly into a warm plush bed. The
sheets smelled nice, clean, and fresh. A deep ache lingered inside his body and
he knew that he had been fucked again. Considering how badly his body hurt, his
violators had shown no mercy.
He couldn’t remember what had happened. Everything was hazy and disjointed.
The last thing he remembered was…
He tried to think back, but his skull pounded with agony. He recalled being in
the ice sculptor’s apartment with the kind redhead… What was his name? He
couldn’t remember, but he knew the artist. He was one of them—part of the
Organization—Vexen. He remembered being returned to them, being forced to suck
to save something precious to him… But what?
What was precious to him?
Right, it was the little puppy, Cleo who had been given to him as a Christmas
gift by the kind redhead whose name he couldn’t remember. After that… it was
just a hazy blur. He tried to think, tried to remember, and then, as sudden as
a train crash, it all came back to him.
He had begged to be fucking raped!
Hot tears leaked beneath his tightly-clenched lids and a raw sob escaped his
throat. He fisted his small hands in the sheets and rolled onto his side. The
soft cotton rasped against his aching nipples and swollen member. That
disgusting used feeling flooded his blood. He was nothing but a hole—a cum
dump, a whore, a slut. He was lower than a sex slave now. He was a slave to
sex.
He had begged for it.
He had pleaded to cum.
He had destroyed himself wholly.
‘He’s broken. Hallelujah.’
Another sob escaped him. Then, he sensed the movement in the room. Someone rose
to their feet with a groan of pain and a deep rasping breath. They came to sit
on the edge of the bed and their weight dipped the mattress. Cleo yipped softly
as if concerned, but was soothed and quieted by a long-fingered hand. The boy
continued to sob, his throat raw, his body burning.
“Shh, Roxas, it’s alright,” a man said gently. “You’re safe here. You’re safe
now. Shh…” A warm hand stroked his head, smoothing back his pale hair.
That name again… Was it his name?
“Roxas, can you hear me?” the man asked again.
The boy didn’t recognize his voice or his hand. Was he a member of the
Organization? He had brilliant green eyes and flame-red hair. Was this the kind
and strange redhead he barely remembered? Or was this another violator looking
to break him? The boy squeezed his eyes shut tightly and scalding tears rolled
down his cheeks.
“Roxas?”
The boy slowly opened his blue eyes and gazed around the room. The walls seemed
familiar along with the thick plush carpet, ensuite bathroom, and wide window
looking out over a snow-covered garden. He shifted, trying to focus his eyes on
the nearby face. The man’s catlike green eyes watched him closely and with a
gentleness that the boy had never felt. His thick unruly red hair was the color
of fire. His skin was pale and unblemished, the pulse beating darkly in his
throat, and he had soft long-fingered hands. He didn’t think this man was part
of the Organization.
“Roxas, can you talk to me?”
The boy just stared at the man, uncomprehending. Who was this person? Whose
name was that? Where was he and why was he in a clean bed? He was nothing now,
just a hole. He had begged for sex, begged to cum, begged to he used, begged,
begged, begged…
“Roxas?” The redhead gingerly touched the boy’s face and then looked away as
someone stepped into the threshold of the room. “Chives, I don’t think he
understands me. Do you think it could be the drugs they gave him?”
“Anything is possible,” someone else said with dignity. “Should I call Riku and
tell him to come here?”
“No, let’s give him a little more time. Maybe he’ll come around,” the redhead
said.
“Alright, I’m going to head downstairs,” the second man said. Footsteps could
be heard retreating from the room and a door softly closed.
The redhead remained seated on the edge of the bed, gently stroking the boy’s
pale blonde tresses. “I’m sure you’ll come back to me, Roxas. They couldn’t
have really… broken you, right? I mean, it was the effect of the drugs, wasn’t
it? Roxas?”
The boy stared at him. Drugs? What drugs?
“Please, talk to me,” the redhead insisted. “Please, Roxas, just… say something
to me. Can I order you to speak?”
A jolt of terror went through the boy. Orders… Disobeying them led to
punishment. Punishment led to beatings and rapes. Rapes led to him begging to
cum. He didn’t want any of that to happen. Desperately, he wet his lips and
opened his mouth. “Master,” he choked out.
The redhead smiled thinly. “Roxas, how do you feel?”
The boy’s body burned, each innocent touch surging through him and settling
warmly in his stomach. He could feel himself growing hard from the sensations
and tears pricked in his eyes. He didn’t want to go through it again. He didn’t
want to be used, he didn’t want to beg, he didn’t want to be turned into
nothing.
“Roxas, please, talk to me. Are the drugs still affecting you?”
There was that word again—drugs. What drugs?
“Roxas?”
“W-what drugs?” he croaked.
“They must have given you something,” Axel said. “I saw bottles of drugs when I
was getting you out of there. When I noticed how… responsive you were, I was
worried. It must be some kind of aphrodisiac, an incredibly strong one.”
“Aphrodisiac?” the boy choked out.
“It’s a pleasure drug,” the redhead said softly. “Do you remember anything?”
He shook his head. “I… I begged them… to fuck me…”
“Roxas, you aren’t supposed to say that word.”
He stared at the redhead. “Why?”
“It’s what we agreed.”
“Agreed?”
The redhead sighed. “Do you remember me, Roxas? Do you remember what happened?”
“I… I begged them… to let me… cum…”
“Before that?”
“I sucked them…”
The redhead gently stroked his face. “Do you remember me, Roxas?”
The boy stared at him, uncomprehending. “You…”
“I bought you. I’m your new master.”
The boy’s body tensed and his eyes widened with terror.
“You’re okay. It’s okay,” the redhead said gently. “I won’t hurt you. Remember,
Roxas?”
“Who is…? Roxas?”
The redhead’s eyes widened and then sadness filled those green orbs. “You are.”
The boy shook his head. “No… I’m just a… hole. I’m a cum dump. A slut, a whore,
a slave…”
The man put his hand gently over the boy’s mouth. “No, you’re not,” he
murmured. “Your name is Roxas and you are fifteen years old. Why would you
think that?”
“Because I… enjoyed it. I… begged.”
Gently, the man pulled him into a tight embrace. “No, they drugged you. It
wasn’t your fault.”
“Drugged me?”
The redhead nodded.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Axel.”
“Axel…”
“Roxas, do you remember?”
The boy closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened. As before, his
head ached. Instead, he focused on the feeling of this man’s gentle arms around
him. When the Organization had touched his body, they had tried to cause pain.
They had never been gentle or kind like this man was being. Even so, their
cruel touches had felt strangely pleasurable.
The boy had been raped so many times before and it had never felt like that—not
even when they had been trying so hard to hit his prostate, not even when they
sucked him, not even when they filled him with vibrators, not even when they
were gentle in their attempts to make him come… He still hadn’t been reduced to
begging. He had never begged for them before.
“Do you remember?” the redhead asked.
“It was strange,” the boy murmured.
“It was the drugs. You’re not a… hole, Roxas. You’re a human being.”
The boy nodded slowly, lulled by Axel’s words. His body hummed with warmth and
pleasure. There was no pain—he was warm and comfortable, cradled to this man’s
chest, those long-fingered soft hands gently stroking his hair. It felt good.
It felt so good.
“The drugs should wear off in just a little while,” the man whispered into his
hair. “Then, you’ll be back to normal.”
“I’m human,” Roxas whispered. The words were foreign on his lips. “Human… Not
a… cum dump…”
Axel hugged him close and stroked his hair. “I’m sorry, Roxas,” he whispered.
It felt so good. This man’s touch felt like heaven, surging through Roxas’s
body like a warm gentle tide. He was achingly hard and the coil in his lower
belly was so close to bursting. Drugs, he reminded himself, it’s just the
drugs, but the pleasure was too much. He was lost inside it, unable to think
about what he was doing. His hand wandered to his small throbbing length and
freed it from the confines of his pajama pants. Before the redhead could notice
or protest, he stroked himself to the peak and completion.
Axel was stunned when he felt Roxas’s seed splatter on his shirt. “Roxas…?”
His blue eyes were still glazed and far-seeing. “Feels… so good,” he whispered.
“Your touch…”
“Roxas, I wasn’t trying to—”
“Drugs,” the boy whispered. Then, still cradled in Axel’s arms, he just passed
out.
                                     X X X
Man, Roxas is having some major problems. And how is Axel going to react to
being jerked off on? I think it’s going to be pretty rocky.
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Aftershock: Pt II *****
And the inspiration left me… Damn.
I HATE THIS STORY! If it wasn’t for everyone insisting that they like it and
that I’m doing good, I would totally quit. Maybe I should focus on just
wrapping it up rather than getting through what I originally had planned for
this when I was still thinking positive about it. I could feasibly shorten this
into one final arc and be done by maybe forty-five or so chapters, maybe less…
maybe I’ll aim for that.
                                     X X X
When Roxas woke again, his mind was clear and cold. He was lying in an unmade
bed, half-naked, and his skin had that sticky dried-semen feel to it. His
nipples were red and swollen, his genitals were painfully chafed, and his ass
throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Abruptly, everything that had happened
rushed back to him in a confusing snarled blur.
Roxas’s body heaved weakly and he forced himself to swallow back nausea. He
remembered everything now.
He had been drugged like an animal for slaughter. Vexen had pressed a bottle of
liquor into his body and poured the alcohol inside him. Xaldin had taken pills
from his pocket and Vexen had pushed them inside Roxas’s ass. He was lucky they
hadn’t given him an overdose and killed him. Maybe it would have been better if
they had, he thought as he took in the fresh damage to his fragile body.
Under his strange new master’s care, he had finally healed, even if his body
was still more like a shattered vase that had been glued back together. Now
that the Organization had had him again…
His mouth tasted like blood and his skin was overly-sensitive. Raw cigarette
burns, weeping blood and tinged black at the edges, marred his pale chest and
shoulders. His wrists were circled with new bruises and dark handprints were
wrapped around his hips and thighs. His healed sheath burned with pain having
been stretched to its limits once again. He was lucky they hadn’t ripped his
body to pieces but the drugs had probably relaxed his muscles into pliant
putty. He should have been thankful for that too or else he would be in even
worse shape, but it was hard to be thankful.
The door opened gently.
Roxas turned his head sharply to see who was coming.
Axel stepped into the bedroom, fresh clothes tucked under his arm and a tray
with some steaming tea and crackers on it. He smiled gently at Roxas, his cat-
green eyes bright and sad. “Hey, I’m glad you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
he asked as he set down the tray on the nightstand. “Those drugs should have
worn off by now. Are you feeling sick? Should I call Riku?” He reached to touch
the boy’s forehead to see if the drug-induced fever had abated, but Roxas
flinched away. “Ah, sorry,” he murmured. “After what happened, you probably
don’t want to be touched for a while, right?”
Roxas stared at him, uncomprehending. Axel was being… so kind to him. Could his
blurred memories of what happened been wrong? He had jerked himself off on his
master and confessed what those men had done to him. Worst of all, Axel had
dropped him into the Organization’s lap on a silver platter. Had he wanted
Roxas to be used and broken?
Though something told Roxas that Axel had unintentionally handed him to Vexen,
masters were still not to be trusted.
“Roxas?” Axel whispered and he reached out again, despite what he had just
said.
The boy jerked his face away. His blue eyes strayed around the familiar
confines of his room in Axel’s house—the room that used to be Cloud’s before
Cloud ran away and came back on death’s door. Cloud had insisted with his final
breath that Axel wasn’t going to hurt Roxas, but the boy just couldn’t believe
it. In Axel’s so-called ‘kind’ hands, he had been hurt badly. He had been
cruelly raped—first by Axel’s own father and then once again by the
Organization.
“Hey, look at me,” Axel pleaded. “I’m sorry about what happened, but I came
back for you, didn’t I?”
Roxas bit his lower lip, tasted blood, and released it before he caused himself
more pain. It didn’t mean anything—Axel might have wanted to protect his
investment or maybe… he really cared. No! Masters were not to be trusted!
Cleo yipped softly and her little paws peeped up over the edge of the bed, her
head not quite able to see over the rim of the mattress. Axel lifted the puppy
onto the bed and she immediately made a quick path to Roxas’s face and began
licking him enthusiastically. Roxas cuddled her into his body and turned so
that he had his back to Axel. He didn’t want the redhead to see how much he
cared for the sweet pet. Who knew what would happen if Axel knew that? If Axel
knew he had sucked their cocks with all he had left to protect her, what would
this master do with that knowledge?
Axel sighed deeply and pushed his long fingers through his mussed red hair with
a small wince. “Alright,” he said bitterly. “Fine.”
A bubble of terror welled up like a stone in Roxas’s chest, his heart skipping
beats and his blood running cold. He didn’t like the tone in his master’s
voice. That tone was… dangerous. He had the sudden horrible premonition that
something terrible was going to happen unless he did something to remedy the
situation. His head snapped up from Cleo. He half-turned to look at Axel and
saw that the redhead’s fists were clenched. Blood was even seeping between his
tightly clenched fingers.
Bad!
This was… so bad!
Axel rose from the bed and Roxas knew that if he didn’t do something, nothing
would matter anymore. What if Axel took Cleo away? What if Axel sold Roxas
again? What if he just gave him back to the Organization? What if, what if,
what if…? Terror choked Roxas and hot tears burned in the back of his throat.
He watched his trembling hands as if they belonged to someone else as he set
Cleo down on the floor beside the bed. Axel had his back to Roxas, headed for
the door. The moment to fix this was shrinking, but Roxas didn’t know what to
do to save himself.
Desperately, the boy flung himself at Axel’s retreating form, wrapping his arms
around his master’s waist and digging his face into his back. “Wait! Please,
I’m sorry!” he choked out, his voice cracking with pain at his sudden
movements. “Please, please, please,” he begged, but he had no idea what it was
that he was begging for.
“Roxas,” Axel breathed.
The boy’s hands pressed flush against Axel’s lower belly, fingers digging in,
and he could feel Roxas’s frail body shaking. Pain seeped through Axel’s
battered chest, but it was distant compared to the warmth of Roxas’s body
pressed against his back. Slowly, the strength began to leave Roxas’s sobbing
body and Axel realized just how long they had been standing like that—in some
sort of stalemate standoff.
Roxas slid to his knees behind Axel, still clinging to his jeans with both
hands. “Please,” he whispered desperately.
Axel turned, gathered Roxas’s small body in his arms, and carried him back to
the bed. The boy was still half-naked so Axel tucked him beneath the covers,
smoothing them absently over Roxas’s thin legs as he gazed at the boy’s
downturned face. Roxas was pale, trembling, and he looked like he was fighting
with himself over the lesser of two evils.
Axel sighed heavily and pushed a hand through his thick red tresses. “Roxas,”
he began. Something was wrong and he was ready to rectify this whole situation,
but he didn’t get to finish what he was about to say.
Roxas threw off the blankets, flung his arms around Axel’s neck, and pressed
their lips together in a hard desperate kiss. Axel tried to push him away, but
Roxas had his small hands fisted in Axel’s hair and it hurt worse to try to pry
the boy off. Axel closed his eyes and resisted the urge to kiss Roxas in
return. The boy tugged at him, his soft warm tongue pressing at the crease of
Axel’s lips frantically. He whimpered softly and folded his small body against
Axel’s chest.
“Please,” Roxas whispered into the one-sided kiss. “Please.”
Axel’s willpower collapsed like a house of cards and he opened his mouth.
With the first taste of Roxas, he was completely lost. The boy’s mouth was warm
and small enough that Axel could reach the farthest corners of his lips. It was
too tempting to overpower the boy’s smaller body and Axel had never been able
to resist temptation. That was obvious just by his inability to hold his liquor
even though he still compulsively drank. Even the sound of Roxas being raped by
his father a few feet from him hadn’t been able to break into his drunken
stupor.
Axel cupped the back of Roxas’s head and deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms
around his slim waist and pulled him to straddle his lap. Axel’s tongue
dominated, his mouth devoured, his kisses turned fierce with arousal, and his
hands wandered the boy’s frail body. Roxas didn’t quite resist him, but he
didn’t fall into the ministrations like a lover. He shrank from the touches, he
squirmed, he pulled away to breathe, but he was silent. He didn’t protest. He
just allowed Axel to kiss and touch him, to caress and fondle him, to molest
and rape.
Cleo yipped softly as if she was in pain.
Roxas squeezed his eyes shut tightly and fought back the tears that threatened
to leak down his cheeks. If he let Axel do this, then… his master wouldn’t get
rid of him. What did it matter if his body was violated again? There was not a
single virginity left within him. He had already been used and discarded like a
doll—without a heart, without a soul, without a body, without anything.
Except Cleo.
He had Cleo.
Axel’s hands ran down the boy’s bare chest, caressing the scars and dips and
bumps and crags of old breaks. Fresh scabs and wounds marked his pale skin and
Axel was careful to avoid touching them directly. When Axel caressed his
swollen nipples as lightly as a feather a shiver ran through Roxas’s small body
as they rose into peaks beneath the touch. Roxas’s skin, though so beaten and
scarred, was like living velvet—soft, warm, virtually hairless, and so perfect.
Axel groaned in bliss, thinking of what the texture would be like against his
tongue and lips when he kissed and licked every inch of Roxas’s small lovely
body.
His large hand slipped lower and cupped Roxas through the thin material of his
pajama bottoms, feeling the boy’s genitals delicately. The length was small and
didn’t harden as Axel gentle stroked it, but that was alright. Roxas had been
through so much and it would probably take a little longer for him to enjoy
Axel’s caresses. Axel slipped the waistband of the pajamas aside and pressed
his hand to the boy’s warm bare skin. Roxas shuddered again, but Axel was too
lost in the boy’s kiss and body to pay much attention.
Cleo yipped softly, but Axel ignored the puppy in favor of fastening his mouth
over the racing pulse in Roxas’s white throat. He wanted to take Roxas, to own
him as master and slave, as lover and loved. He wanted to lay his hands on
every inch of pale satin-soft skin, caress every bruise that lingered, and kiss
every cruel scar. Axel suddenly realized that Roxas would let him. Despite what
had happened, the boy didn’t shy away from his touch. Roxas remained still and
quiet, lips parted and body prone, like a pretty doll.
Axel gently lay the boy down on the bed, cushioning him tenderly against the
pillows. Pain spiked through Axel’s ruined chest, but he pushed it away. He
feathered his lips against Roxas’s reddened nipples and the boy let out a
strangled sound. Axel leaned back, saw that Roxas’s eyes were closed, and
kissed his closed lids gently. Then, he tugged down the boy’s pajama bottoms
and cupped his small flaccid member. Axel kissed him again, licked his lips
gently, and Roxas granted access easily.
“Does it feel good?” Axel whispered. “Let me know if anything I do hurts you.”
Roxas didn’t make a sound—not of pleasure, fear, or pain.
“I won’t be angry,” Axel promised. “You can tell me.”
Roxas’s small hands closed over Axel’s broad shoulders and pulled him slightly
closer. Smiling tenderly, Axel dipped his head and kissed a path from Roxas’s
jaw to the small cluster of burns at his collarbone, pausing occasionally to
suckle lightly. Gently, Axel ran his fingers down the small member until it
finally began to harden beneath his ministrations. Then, he brought his fingers
to his mouth and wet them thoroughly. Roxas’s small white body trembled like a
dove and Axel kissed him reassuringly.
Axel palmed the swell of Roxas’s bottom, pressed his damp finger to the boy’s
abused opening, and gently slipped one finger inside. Roxas’s boy was hot and
tight, wet, and Axel nearly came just thinking about what it would feel like to
have Roxas’s sheath clenching around his aching shaft. He added a second finger
and curved them to press against Roxas’s raw prostate. The boy yelped quietly
and his entire body jolted as if a live wire had touched it. His muscles
tightened around Axel’s long fingers.
“God,” Axel gasped breathlessly. He fumbled at his too-tight jeans.
Cleo yipped and her nails clicked on the hardwood floor as she ran from one
side of the bed to the other.
“Shut up,” Axel grumbled at the puppy. He finally managed to free his hard
shaft and pressed it against Roxas’s small member, stroking them in unison.
Roxas whimpered and brought his arms up around Axel, pulling him close.
Cleo began barking in a frenzy, louder and louder.
Axel wanted to concentrate on touching Roxas, on kissing him, on owning
him…God, why had be bought Roxas such a loud pet? He didn’t want the dog
barking and yowling now of all times! “Quiet,” Axel snapped at the puppy, but
Cleo continued barking madly. “Shut up!”
A small cry escaped Roxas’s lips, but he muffled the sound by kissing Axel. His
fingertips trembled as he pulled Axel closer.
Axel moved his lips lower, suckling and nipping the fragile soft skin of the
boy’s neck. He traced his tongue over a rough raised portion of badly-scarred
skin.
Roxas breathed deeply, his hands sliding down Axel’s back. “Cleo, hush,” the
boy whispered suddenly. “This is… for us…”
Those words brought Axel back to his senses like a spray of icy water. “What?”
he breathed out against Roxas’s skin.
A whimper escaped Roxas’s swollen kissed-too-hard lips. His blue eyes were
wide, red-rimmed, and welled with shining tears. Axel lay between the boy’s
thin thighs, their members pressed together. Goose bumps had broken out all
over Roxas’s body and his nipples were badly swollen from being touched again.
Though he reached for Axel, his arms were as thin as twigs, marked with small
round cigarette burns, and circled with deep bruises. Naked, all his scars and
injuries laid bare, he looked more like a victim than ever.
“Please,” Roxas whispered brokenly. “Please.”
Axel took his hands and held them at length. “Please what?”
“D-don’t… hurt us,” Roxas whispered.
The words were like a stake through Axel’s heart. “Don’t hurt you?”
Roxas closed his eyes. “You… want this b-body… Take it, but don’t… don’t get
rid of me. Don’t send me b-back… don’t give me back to t-them.”
Axel’s heart skipped a beat. “You think…?”
“P-please, don’t… don’t hurt me,” Roxas sobbed. “Use me… if you want. Just d-
don’t get rid of me. Don’t s-send me b-back, not to them.”
Sickened, Axel leaped away from the bed and stumbled to clutch his aching
chest. Breathing hard, he noticed for the first time that he had worked the
poor boy into a half-hard state and the cleft between his battered cheeks was
slick with wetness. How far had he planned on going, drunk on the scent and
texture of Roxas’s bared skin? Had he really intended to take him now, so soon
after he had been drugged and brutally raped? Axel sat down heavily, put his
head between his legs, and tried to breathe deeply. Pain speared through his
broken ribs.
“You really thought I’d give you back to the Organization?” Axel whispered.
“You thought I’d get rid of you after everything that’s happened?”
Roxas didn’t answer, but his silence was enough.
Axel got to his feet and limped from room, slamming the door behind him.
Roxas pulled his pajama bottoms back up before he reached for Cleo and cradled
her in his arms. He wished he had something kind to tell the puppy, but he
didn’t. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what had just happened. Had he saved them? Or
condemned them both? Instead, he just held her and cried.
                                     X X X
I went back and re-read everything I wrote in this story. Yuhck! This stuff
sucks…
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review. Tell me how you love it and me. I need that for this story or else,
epic death…
***** Axel's Second Plan *****
Phew! There were fifteen reviews for the last chapter in like two days. That
deserves an update!
                                     X X X
Rocketing out of Roxas’s room, Axel blew past Chives like his ass was on fire
despite his battered ribcage. He flew down the stairs, raced through the living
room, and darted into the kitchen. He was breathing hard, his face was flushed,
and his eyes were glassy. He looked as if he had been having a very pleasant
dream than suddenly became a nightmare and woken him cruelly. In fact, he
looked downright nauseous. The kitchen door swung shut and Chives could hear
him clattering about inside, swearing, and breaking things in a state of
frenzied worry and panic.
“Hmm, young master,” Chives muttered and headed towards the kitchen. He pushed
open the door and took in the sight before him. “Axel, what are you—?”
“Get out!” Axel shouted and tossed a frying pan blindly at the butler.
Chives was a little less used to having things thrown at him than he was Axel
charging around the villa, but he still ducked effortlessly. The pan jangled
across the floor behind him noisily. “What one earth are you doing?” he
demanded of his employer.
“Calling someone!” Axel shrieked and threw his arms up in the air wildly.
“Out!” He hurled a wooden spoon at the butler. This time Chives closed the door
to the kitchen and the utensil collided with the door. Axel resumed cursing and
banging, grumbling and shouting.
Then, everything fell momentarily quiet.
Chives pushed the door open again and peered around the jamb.
Axel was doubled over against the counter, clutching his chest and breathing
jaggedly. His face was ghost-pale with pain. “Chives,” he rasped out.
“What am I going to do with you?” Chives asked. He strolled through the
kitchen, pulled up a chair, and forced Axel to sit. “Relax,” he said as he
rested his hands on Axel’s shoulders. “Calm down and try to focus on taking
nice deep breaths.”
Axel’s shoulders trembled as he breathed deeply and let the breath out slowly
and painfully. He raked a hand through his thick hair and mumbled something.
Finally, his breathing evened out and he leaned back in the chair with his hand
resting lightly over the cracked ribs.
“Now,” Chives continued as he moved away to fill a mug with water. He put it in
the microwave and got out a teabag followed by a jar of honey. “Are you going
to tell me what happened?”
Axel eyed the mug and the jar of honey. “If I say no, do I still get that tea?”
“What do you think?” Chives scolded as he dropped the teabag into the steaming
water.
Axel sighed as deeply as he could. “I… did something really… stupid…”
Chives listened patiently and stirred some honey into the tea.
“Roxas kissed me,” Axel forced out. “And I couldn’t stop.”
Chives’s hand went still with concern. “Did you…?”
“No!” Axel choked out. “I stopped before that, but… I got so close.” He scraped
his hands against his face. “Roxas didn’t try to stop me, Chives. He wanted me
to take him. He was… afraid I was going to get rid of him because of what
happened.”
“Did you talk to him?” Chives asked.
“I couldn’t,” Axel whispered. “I just… I had to get out of there. I couldn’t
look at him—at what I almost did to him. He was naked, Chives.”
The butler set the cup of steaming tea down before Axel and watched the redhead
wrap trembling hands around the mug. “What matters is that you stopped, Axel.
You didn’t hurt him,” he tried to explain. “Roxas is incredibly damaged, maybe
more than either of us realized. He knows his body is a bargaining chip and he
tried to use it to gain something he wanted. You have to try to understand that
not all of this is your fault. Most of it can be traced to the Organization.
They broke something inside that boy, Axel.”
“God…” Axel’s entire body shuddered. “Shit…”
Chives touched his hand gently and guided him to take a sip of tea. “You have
to try to help Roxas,” he continued. “He’s hurt and scared. He was drugged,
probably forced to enjoy being raped, and violated. He might think you gave him
back to the Organization on purpose.”
“I told him that I didn’t,” Axel murmured. “I told him it was an accident.”
“Drink some more,” Chives said softly. “You can help Roxas, if you try. You
remember how Cloud was when you first bought him, don’t you?”
Axel coughed and looked up at Chives incredulously. “You can’t compare those
two,” he said. “Cloud was wild, rebellious, crazed with hope and desire. He was
trouble, right to the end. He missed his family, but he never stopped believing
that he would find them, help them, save them, be reunited with them.” Axel
stared into the mug of tea. “But Roxas is… God, he’s so hurt.”
Chives smiled thinly. “Yes, he is,” he agreed, “but you did everything you
could to help Cloud, remember?”
“I wasn’t going to stop him from searching for his family,” Axel muttered.
“You bought him newspapers and gave him access to the computer for research,”
Chives continued. “There are many people who never would have cared, who never
would have helped him, or let him keep that hope for his family.”
Axel lowered his eyes. “A lot of good that did…” he whispered, “Cloud is dead
now. Maybe if I hadn’t—”
“Hush,” Chives interrupted. “Drink.”
Axel took another sip of tea and felt the heat of it soak into his very soul.
He sighed weakly. “Where are you going with all this, Chives?”
“Just reminding you that you’re a good person and you’re capable of great
things if you just think about what to do,” he said smoothly. “You are very
good at fixing problems. Probably because you’ve made so many mistakes.”
Axel glowered at Chives, but a smile pulled at the corner of his lips.
“Now, what are you going to do to help Roxas?” Chives asked.
“I need to think,” Axel murmured. “Don’t you have something to buttle?”
“Buttle, sir?” Chives repeated.
“You’re a butler, aren’t you? Don’t you buttle?” Axel asked cheekily.
Chives accepted the ribbing with a good-natured smile and left the kitchen
quietly. He returned to the living room and resumed taking down the Christmas
tree. Not much time had truly passed since Axel bought Roxas a few days before
Christmas and now New Years had just ended, but it felt like an eternity. It
probably felt even longer to Roxas—who had been raped under Axel’s care at
least twice and then accidently handed over to his worst nightmare.
Nevertheless, some good had surely come out of all this. The boy had gained
Cleo at least.
Chives sighed as he delicately wrapped several glass orbs in tissue paper and
tucked them back into their box. He paused, holding a sky-blue decoration in
his hands and considering it. What about Cloud? Cloud had died. He had been
killed by the Organization that had wanted Roxas. Could he have been saved if
only they had some something differently? With a jolt, Chives realized
something. If the Organization had wanted Roxas, why would they kill Cloud and
his family? What was the connection between them, if there was one at all?
Silently, Chives compared them.
Cloud Strife had been a free man for most of his life, something that made it
nearly impossible for him to submit to the fact that his life was now not his
own. He could never admit to being possessed and owned, body and soul. He had
been bitter at his own weakness that allowed him to be captured, yet he had
always been somehow hopeful. He had no doubts that he would someday regain his
freedom and get back to his wife and kids. Then, Cloud had escaped Axel,
vanished for little over a month, and then returned only to die with a note
from the Organization in his bloodied trouser’s pocket.
Roxas, as far as they knew, had been a slave his entire life. He had probably
never known a family, a mother, or a kind touch. The state of his broken soul,
his beaten body, his shattered personality, and cowering fear said that much.
The Organization had somehow come to want Roxas bad enough to risk anything,
but why? How could one broken little boy be worth so much to them? It didn’t
make sense for them to want Roxas—Cloud maybe—but not the beaten child.
Physically, Chives supposed there was some resemblance between them.
Cloud had been long and tall, his body strong and defined with broad shoulders
and chiseled muscles, and his wit sharp as a knife. His eyes had been sharp
ice-blue and his fair platinum-honeyed hair windswept and softly spiked.
Roxas’s body was nothing more than a skeleton, without muscles, without
definition, without any fantastic features. Yet, they had the same sort of
face. Roxas’s hair was the same shade as Cloud’s and his eyes were the same
cerulean-blue.
Could they have been… brothers? Father and son? Distant cousins?
Chives sighed, wrapped the sky-blue orb, and packed it away until next
Christmas.
Anything was possible really. It could all just be a strange coincidence, but
the butler had never really believed in coincidences.
Suddenly, a sparkling Christmas ball fell and shattered into a thousand pieces.
In the kitchen, Chives heard Axel begin to shout again, but couldn’t make out
what he was saying. He supposed it didn’t matter, just so long as Axel had come
up with a plan to help Roxas.
…
Axel punched her number once, got the answering machine, dialed again, once
again got the machine, left a frenzied message, and then called a third time.
This time, her voice barking mad, Xion answered. “Hell’s teeth, Axel! What the
hell do you want?” she demanded.
“Xion!” he shouted. “I need your help!”
“It’s the day after New Years! I’m hung-over! What could you possibly want?”
she shouted back and then groaned. “Wait, wait, shut up. Stop yelling. You’re
killing me…”
Axel softened his voice as he explained, “Xion, I… I’ve screwed up big time.”
“So apologize to whoever you wronged and stop drinking so much,” she barked and
then groaned again. “Actually, I’m beginning to think I should stop drinking
period… Maybe prohibition wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Can I get it
reinstated?”
“That’s not it, Xion, I…” Axel choked and his voice suddenly cracked with
emotion.
Xion murmured something and began to hum sweetly.
Gratefully, Axel listened to the song of her voice until his heart stopped
pounding against his ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. He pressed his
hand gingerly over his injured rib and breathed deeply through the lingering
pain. When Axel felt moderately under control again, he whispered, “Thanks.”
“Tell me,” she murmured softly. “I’m here for you.”
“Xion, I never got a chance to tell you what happened,” Axel began.
Then, it all just came pouring out of him. He told her about Cloud’s return and
subsequent death, about the note Chives had found in his pocket, about the
threat. He explained how he had planned to protect Roxas by sending him to stay
with a friend, but that Vexen had been part of the Organization all along. He
managed to tell her how he had saved Roxas but the boy had already been drugged
and violated beyond all reasoning. He explained how Roxas had desperately
kissed him, how Axel had lost it and nearly had his way with the boy’s frail
body even knowing what he had just been through, and how Roxas had been too
afraid to try to stop him.
“He thought that I’d… get rid of him… if he refused me…” Axel whispered
finally. “I don’t know what to do now, Xion.”
Xion was silent for a long moment, but Axel listened to the sound of her
breathing and was oddly comforted. Xion was a wonderful friend.
“What should I do, Xion?” Axel whispered after a long moment passed between
them.
She breathed out slowly and he heard her moving through her house, kicking
aside toys that jangled and rattled. A dog barked, a cat meowed loudly, and
children shouted in the background. Xion groaned as the noise speared into her
aching head. For a moment, there was muffled chatter on the other side of the
phone, but Axel couldn’t understand what was being said.
“I have to do something,” he whispered emptily.
“I know,” Xion said when she finally returned to the phone. “Okay, Axel… I’ll
help you out this one time, but I expect payment. I know you got Roxas a puppy
for Christmas and I want one too.”
Axel snorted a little, but wasn’t quite able to laugh.
                                     X X X
Well, what’s the plan?
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Xion's Arrival *****
Alright, I got a couple chapters written for this and I’ve started keeping
notes on where I want to go with it. Hopefully that will help me keep it under
control. (But I’ve discovered Shugo Chara, or more to the point I’ve discovered
Ikuto from Shugo Chara. He’s a sexy kitty! Check him out! I might have to write
a little story for him…)
                                     X X X
Not wanting to frighten Roxas further, Axel told Chives Xion’s plan and had the
butler execute it. Axel sat on the couch for a long time after that with his
hand resting over his injured ribs and staring at the television unseeingly.
Chives finished taking down the Christmas decorations and headed upstairs to
the room that had once been Cloud’s but now belonged to Roxas. He knocked
lightly, but Roxas didn’t call for him to enter. Chives knocked again and then
left himself in.
The room looked normal and calm, but it felt like a shell that closed over
Roxas’s emotions and feelings to protect him. The fifteen-year-old child was
sitting on the bed, snarled up in blankets and sheets with Cleo in his lap. His
collarbones were bare and fragile as were his ankles. When he saw Chives, Roxas
looked up with his pale blue eyes and stared tragically at the butler for a
long moment. Then, a single tear ran down his pale cheek. “I…” he whispered,
“What’s going to happen to me now…?”
Chives took a shallow breath and haplessly smoothed the covers beside Roxas’s
thigh. “Axel has arranged for you to go on a little trip,” he said slowly. Axel
wanted Xion’s plan to be a surprise, but Chives didn’t think it was a good
idea. He wished he could go against Axel and tell Roxas exactly what was going
to happen, but he had already promised to let the trip be a surprise.
Roxas paled and sucked in a trembling breath of air. “W-wh-what?”
“Just pack some clothes and leave Cleo on the bed,” Chives said as gently as he
could and turned to leave the bedroom. “Alright, Roxas?”
The boy threw himself at Chives, shedding blankets and sheets left and right.
He was wearing only his pajama pants and his naked chest and back were
patterned with hideous bruises, fresh wounds, and scars. Roxas grabbed the
butler’s shirtfront and clung to it desperately. Tears gathered in his blue
eyes and rolled slowly down his cheeks. “What’s going to happen to me?” he
pleaded. “Please, tell me! What—?”
Gently, Chives embraced the small boy. “It’s alright. Nothing bad is going to
happen to you,” he soothed. “I promise…” Roxas’s skin was cool to the touch and
bumpy beneath Chives’s hands.
The boy trembled like a bird. “Th-the-then,” he choked out, “W-what is—?”
Chives hushed him and gently stroked his soft honeyed hair. “It’s a surprise,”
he repeated kindly, “but nothing bad will happen to you. I swear to you,
Roxas.”
“I-I did something b-bad!” Roxas clung to him, sobbing. “I k-know something b-
bad will happen to m-me! I’ll be pun-punished!”
Chives cradled the boy’s frail trembling body against his chest and his fingers
lightly traced a long scar that covered his thin back. Roxas whimpered quietly
when Chives’s fingers moved across a small round burn. A moment passed before
Chives pushed him back slightly and looked into his tear-stained face. “It’ll
be okay, honest,” he repeated and wiped the tears from Roxas’s reddened cheeks
gently. “Just pack some clothes and leave Cleo here. I’ll take care of her
while you’re gone, Roxas.”
“Then,” the boy breathed out hopelessly. “I’m coming… back?”
The butler nodded and smiled thinly. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to…”
Roxas’s blue eyes widened.
Chives patted the boy’s bare shoulder, careful to avoid bruises and burns.
“Pack, okay? Just enough clothes to last for two days.”
Roxas wet his lips and weakly nodded his agreement.
The butler smiled at him and turned to leave the bedroom. He wanted to give the
boy privacy to say his goodbyes to Cleo and pack some clothes. Roxas gathered
up the strewn sheets and blankets and set them on the bed. Then, he lifted Cleo
and cradled her to his chest like he would never see her again. He probably
didn’t believe that he would be coming back. After everything that had
happened, even if the boy believed that Axel might not want to hurt him
further, he probably didn’t think it was possible for something to go right.
Even if Axel wanted to protect him, Roxas thought that he would still be hurt
by fate. Chives saw a tear slide down the boy’s cheek before he closed the door
softly.
Outside the door, Axel waited anxiously. His cat-green eyes were wide and
desperate, his face was pale, and his red hair was a mess. “Well?” he asked
urgently. “How’d it go? Did you tell him? Is he packing? Chives?”
“He’s afraid,” Chives said and crossed his arms over his chest sternly. “He
thinks you’re getting rid of him or that he’s going to be punished. You should
just tell him the truth.”
“Xion convinced me to let it be a surprise,” Axel protested.
“Xion doesn’t always know best,” Chives said. “There’s a reason the two of you
are such good friends. You’re both stu—”
“But she knows better than I do,” Axel said bitterly.
Chives clapped him on the shoulder hard. “Alright, fine,” was all he said.
Axel sighed heavily, lingered at the door a moment, and then followed the
butler down the hall. His ribs ached as he breathed and he thought of the
Organization again. They had starved and tortured the poor boy, raped and
beaten and abused him until there was hardly anything left of the beautiful
youth. They had even been foolish enough to attack and injure Axel.
Then, his mind turned to Roxas. He wondered what Roxas was thinking, what he
was feeling—if he felt anything at all. Maybe he felt nothing but fear, pain,
and pleasure anymore. Maybe, no matter what Axel did from here on out, Roxas
would never heal. Maybe, he truly was nothing more than a doll without a heart
or soul. Maybe, he was just a beaten tortured body.
Who really knew what was to become of the human heart?
…
Roxas packed slowly, as if he could delay the inevitable. He counted and paired
out socks and silken boxers, jeans and t-shirts, all of which had been given to
him for Christmas by his strange kind master. He had also been given Cleo, his
most precious friend. He would have to leave her behind when he left for this…
surprise. What was going to happen to him? He shuddered, teeth chattering
nervously. He felt like a man on death row, unsure what was waiting for him on
the other side of death’s gate.
He didn’t know what was going to happen to him.
He didn’t know what was going to happen to Cleo either.
What was Axel’s plan now? And even worse, how was it going to go wrong and hurt
him? His master’s plans had always gone wrong and hurt Roxas, regardless of how
they were intended to work out. He didn’t want to be hurt anymore, but that was
only natural.
He glanced at Cleo. The small puppy watched him trustingly and yipped softly,
her tail wagging.
Roxas stroked her head. “I hope it will all be okay,” he murmured to her.
Then, he shouldered the small satchel and left the room. He hesitated in the
threshold, looking back over his shoulder at the room that had been his for a
few weeks. He suddenly found himself praying that he would come back not only
to Cleo, but to this room.
His pale skin vibrated with the memories of Axel’s touch. His strange master—so
kind, so gentle, so tender—and still so hurtful and strange. When Roxas had
tried to save himself by giving up his body, Axel had been more caring than
anyone Roxas had ever known, even the one kind master who had betrayed him. He
had kissed Roxas so frequently, being so considerate where Roxas’s nipples had
been rubbed raw or where his body had been stretched to its limits.
Roxas had almost enjoyed it…
The thought that he wanted to return here—to this place where he had been hurt
and protected—was staggering. A bubble of fear welled in his throat like a
stone, but he forced himself to swallow it. Hopefully, nothing would go wrong
this time. Roxas dared to hope that he wouldn’t be hurt again, not by his kind
and strange master.
There was a light rap on the door.
Chives peered around the threshold. “It’s time,” the butler said gently.
“Alright,” Roxas forced out.
Chives nodded and disappeared from the doorway. Roxas heard him talking to
someone, probably Axel, and his voice diminished down the hallway.
Roxas swallowed thickly, gave Cleo one final pet, and turned away from the
small puppy. He took one final look around the room that was now his and forced
back the sorrow that welled in his veins like an infection. He left the room
and closed the door softly behind himself. His heart beat like a drum, pounding
endlessly against the cage of his ribs until he thought it would break free of
his chest.
What was going to happen to him now?
…
Xion pulled up in front of Axel’s beautiful villa in her mom’s minivan and
spent a moment admiring the monstrous mansion. God, she wished she could live
inside that house with maids and butlers and slaves. It would be heaven, but
then again, she definitely loved her family and their small crowded home.
Honestly, she wouldn’t have traded her life for the world, especially in light
of everything that had happened to Axel recently. She sighed, put the van in
park, climbed out, and slogged through the snow to the front door. She entered
without knocking.
“Helloooooo!” she called, her voice bouncing off the walls of the large living
room. “Axel? Chives? Yo!”
Axel clambered down the stairs, panting, and paused at the bottom to clutch at
his ribs.
“Are you okay?” Xion asked as she rushed to his side and gently touched his
arm. “Axel?”
“I’m fine, Xion,” he gasped out. “Thanks for coming.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said with a wave of her hand. “How’s it going?”
Chives came down the stairs behind Axel, scaring the redhead when he spoke.
“He’s finishing up now,” he murmured. “It’ll just be a minute.” He paused at
the bottom of the stairs and scrutinized Axel’s crumpled form and pale face.
Lightly, he steered Axel over a few steps to lean on the banister. “So, Xion,
what are you planning?” he asked. “And why does it have to be a surprise?”
Xion grinned. “Nothing much. I thought I’d get him away from Axel and away from
everything here. A few days with my family is bound to loosen anyone up.”
As much as Chives hated to admit it, that did actually sound like a good idea
and Roxas would probably balk if he knew he was going to spend a few days in
all that mayhem. He nodded and smiled at the young woman. “Alright,” he agreed,
“Good luck then.”
Xion nodded. “Don’t worry about anything, guys. I have it all under control.”
“Thanks Xion,” Axel breathed out.
“And you get lots of rest while I take care of Roxas,” Xion said and poked Axel
gently in the ribs.
Axel hissed in pain. “I will,” he said. “Don’t poke me. That hurts.”
There was a soft sound at the top of the stairs and everyone’s heads turned to
look. Standing there with a small satchel clutched to his side was Roxas. His
face was pale and his eyes immediately darted from Xion and Chives to Axel. He
looked like he wanted to speak, to beg, to ask, but he didn’t get the chance.
Immediately, Axel backed away from the stairs and darted into the kitchen with
a stifled yelp of pain. He was still ashamed of his actions—of how hungry he
had been, of how greedily he had touched Roxas, of how badly he had wanted to
take the boy.
Chives and Xion both offered Roxas a soothing smile, but he didn’t look
comforted.
“Good luck,” Chives whispered to Xion.
Xion flashed him a thumbs up, confident as always. “Hey Roxas,” she called up
the stairs. “Remember me? Axel’s friend. I’m Xion.”
                                     X X X
I’m looking forward to writing Xion’s family chapters. It should be rather fun
and hilarious to lighten up the overall dark mood of this story. (Plus I love
Xion.)
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review! Or I’ll probably get distracted…
***** The Gainsborough-Fair House *****
Crap! I wanted to use Cloud as Xion’s father, but then I remembered that I’d
already used him… Bugger all! I hate it when that happens!
                                     X X X
Without ceremony and without even saying goodbye to Axel, Xion ushered Roxas
out to the waiting minivan. She loaded him into the passenger seat and tucked
his satchel in at his feet with a smile. Then, she bottled herself in behind
the wheel, waved to Axel’s villa even though no one was visible at the windows,
and headed back down the snowy driveway.
Once the mansion diminished from the rearview mirror, Xion asked, “So, Roxas,
how are you doing?”
Roxas wet his lips nervously and whispered, “G-good, I g-guess.”
“Don’t stutter,” Xion said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“S-sorry,” he murmured.
She sighed.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. Finally, Xion’s family home came
into view. It was rather large—two stories with a basement and an attic—but far
smaller than Axel’s giant villa. Even so, it looked safer and more comfortable.
A small piece of Roxas’s heart warmed as he gazed at it.
The quaint colonial-style house was painted bright white with pale grey
shutters and the front door was bright red decorated with a brass knocker in
the shape of a lion. The wraparound porch had a single wooden swing and a
colored baby seat hanging from the blue star-stenciled ceiling. The windows
were curtained brightly and warm amber light glowed beyond the glass. The tiny
front yard was littered with sleds, toys, a scarf and glove, and even an easel.
Much of the remaining space was packed with snowmen, snowwomen, and snow-
animals.
Roxas glimpsed the backyard through the trees. There was a small in-ground pool
and a gazebo fringed with new sturdy metal fencing, a small garden surrounded
by white picket fence, and a narrow path that had been shoveled to an igloo.
More snow-people filled the backyard and someone had built a ramp out of snow.
The rest of the home was surrounded by old-fashioned wooden fencing with
chicken wire stapled inside to keep everything—kids, dogs, cats, and toys
alike—on the property.
Within the yard, three dogs ran wild, chasing a cat with so much barking and
yowling that it looked like a scene from the archaic painting of ‘The Hunt.’
The other cat was sitting safely on the porch, watching everything with pale
yellow eyes. (1)
“Home sweet home,” Xion said as she parked the van and got out.
Nervously, Roxas unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out into the deep snow.
“Come on,” Xion called as she bounded through the snow to the front door. “It’s
alright.”
Shouldering his small satchel, Roxas followed her and stepped through the
threshold into the warm house. Several delicious smells wrapped around him like
a blanket, circling him in heat and comfort. His stomach growled and he
worriedly glanced at Xion.
Xion was taking off her winter coat, hat, gloves, and scarf and didn’t notice
his worry. “Give me your coat,” she said and held out her hand.
Roxas shrugged out of the garment and handed it over so she could hang it in
the closet.
“Follow me,” Xion said lightly. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Roxas followed her helplessly, like a leaf caught in the wake of a stiff
breeze.
Xion stepped into the kitchen and shouted over the dull roar of several
children arguing, “I’m home, everybody!”
“Xion!” came the echoing response.
“Welcome home,” a beautiful woman said sweetly and moved from the window to
embrace and kiss her oldest daughter. “And who is this?”
“This is Roxas, Mom,” Xion said. “I told you about him. He’s Axel’s, you know.”
The woman turned her lovely smile to Roxas and it was like a warm bright light.
“Welcome Roxas,” she said kindly.
“H-hi,” he whispered.
“Roxas, this is my mother, Aerith Gainsborough,” Xion said with a broad grin.
“You’ll meet my dad later when he comes home.”
Her mother, Aerith Gainsborough, was beautiful woman. She was incredibly young-
looking and astonishingly pretty despite her oldest daughter, Xion, being
twenty-one. She had long waist-length brown hair plaited into a braid and tied
with pink ribbons. Silk flowers were tucked into the neck of her dress and her
hair. She smiled, hands folded as if in prayer as she turned to look out the
window at the children playing in the backyard. When she turned back to Roxas
and Xion, she smiled even more beautifully.
Since Xion’s parents weren’t married, it was decided that the children would
all take Aerith’s last name.
Xion’s father wasn’t home during the day, but his presence lingered everywhere
in the house. Zack Fair’s motorcycle was usually sitting in the carport,
splattered with bugs from its many rides. He rode it even in the winter so it
was very well-used and loved. Xion took after her father with her dark hair,
deep blue eyes, and wild yet determined personality. She couldn’t imagine life
without him, just as she couldn’t imagine her father without her mother. They
rarely argued and never fought. They were a match made in heaven.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Roxas murmured.
“Charmed,” she said sweetly. Aerith looked as if she wanted to reach out to
embrace Roxas, but she restrained the urge.
“And these,” Xion said as she swept her hand out to gesture to the few children
sitting at the kitchen table, “are about half of my brothers and sisters. The
other half are probably out back, building an army of deranged snow-monsters.”
Aerith Gainsborough and Zack Fair had seven children excluding Xion of all
ages, shapes, and sizes.
At twenty-one, Xion was the oldest. She still lived at home to help her parents
manage her six younger siblings. Zack worked all day, every day, except Sunday,
and Aerith worked from nine to five Monday through Friday. Rather than hire a
babysitter, Xion had just chosen to live at home until one of the other
children could take her place watching over everyone younger. She took her
college classes online and worked at a nearby diner at night when Aerith came
home. She loved her family dearly, despite their many dysfunctions.
The second oldest was Hayner. He was thirteen, only two years younger than
Roxas. (The thought of Hayner going through the same things Roxas had turned
Xion’s stomach.) He was a typical thirteen-year-old boy, involved in every
sport known to man. He left a trail of sports equipment—bats, mitts, balls,
even grass-stained jerseys—all over the house. He was always starting fights
with his siblings, trying to get them to play with him. He was far too
competitive for his own good, something that always had Xion breaking up
squabbles amongst the children.
Third came Olette. She was a year younger than Hayner and she was water to his
fire. Where Hayner was the athlete, Olette was the ‘mathlete’ of the family.
She was beyond book-smart. She was calm, often settling small disputes between
her siblings when Xion wasn’t available. She got everyone to do their homework
and go to bed on time. She enjoyed shopping with Aerith, though her taste in
colors ranged from bright to brighter and she was commonly blinding at high
noon, but she had good taste in styles at least.
Pence was eleven, but he was as relaxed and level-headed as a ninety-year-old
man. When there was a problem, he was the first one to recommend stepping back,
taking a better look, and then breaking out the talking stick in an attempt to
resolve the conflict. He could teach the government and small third-world
countries a thing or two about negotiations. Occasionally, he, Hayner, and
Olette had it out over something and spent a few days ignoring each other, but
Pence was always the first to make up.
Namine was a very grown-up nine and three-quarters. She always said this
completely, practically counting down the days to her next birthday. She was a
budding artist as well—her easel, sketchpad, paints, charcoals, and pencils
were never far from her pale white hands. She, like Aerith, was beautiful with
that Sleeping Beauty platinum-blonde hair that usually didn’t last past the age
of three. She spoke softly, sweetly, as if she was a white fairytale queen from
another world.
A few years after Namine, Sora and Kairi were born. They were fraternal twins,
each seven.
Sora was older by seven minutes, though far less mature than his younger
sister. He was a stunning young child and everyone waited eagerly for puberty
to hit him when he would blossom like a flower. He had the brightest blue eyes
and pale chocolate tresses. He and Kairi were never apart, connected at the
hip. Kairi was able to convince him to play house and Sora could convince her
to play cops and robbers. No two children, even twins, had ever gotten along so
well.
Seven minutes younger, Kairi was as clever as Namine. She, like most little
girls, was beautiful. She had the limbs and face of a porcelain doll, thin and
long with a narrow waist. Her hair was the color of rich melted rubies and her
eyes were the same blue as Sora’s. When she played with her twin, they seemed
unaware that they were separate beings. A few times, Xion had even seen them
playing Bride and Groom, even delicately kissing with lots of childish lip-
puckering. They were fantastic little kids.
Finally, the youngest was Demyx who had just turned five. Being the baby of the
family, he was a big whiner—always complaining and whimpering to Xion the
second something went wrong. He was lucky he was so cute otherwise it would
have been madly annoying. As it was, Xion was getting to the point where she
was ready for him to start standing up for himself. He had an infatuation with
water, swimming every chance he could get, and he had just started taking
guitar lessons. The house was always filled with his off-key twanging.
“Now,” Xion said to her mother and Roxas. “I’ve got to jet, but I’ll be back.
Duty calls.”
“Trouble at the diner?” Aerith asked as Xion rushed about gathering her work
uniform.
“They called me while I was on my way to Axel’s. The chef is sick,” she
explained. “They need me to fill in until the night cook shows up.”
“Alright,” Aerith said and gave Xion another light kiss on the cheek. “I can
handle everything here. Your father will be home soon, too.”
“Awesome,” Xion said and grabbed her apron. “See you all later!”
Then, before Roxas could panic, she was gone in a gust of cold wind and the
loud bang of the front door. Roxas stood in the warm kitchen, shocked and
frozen, staring at the empty space where she had once been standing. His heart
began to throb and the wonderful feeling that had been building in his chest
abruptly went cold.
Aerith came to stand as his side and the smell of her perfume surrounded him.
She smelled of flowers, warm cookies, and something heavenly. Roxas felt dizzy,
drunk on the scent, and he a faint smile began to curve his lips. “Well, Xion
will be back in a few hours,” she said gently. “Why don’t you take a seat and
make yourself at home?”
“T-thanks,” Roxas whispered and nervously went to sit at the table with Olette,
Pence, Namine, and Demyx.
Namine looked at him curiously, tilting her head as if she knew something he
didn’t. Her pale blonde hair streamed over her narrow shoulders Then, she gave
him a sheet of plain paper and a pencil. “Here,” she said with a small pearly
smile. “You can have this, since you don’t have any homework.”
“Thank you,” Roxas breathed out and accepted the two objects.
Namine turned her attention back to her sketchpad, studying Roxas through the
fan of her pale lashes. He stared at the blank sheet of paper for much longer,
unable to find the courage to soil the perfect whiteness with anything.
Finally, he drew a tiny flower in the right-hand corner just as there was a
fantastic commotion at the front door.
…
Just as sunset was coloring the white snowy landscape, Xion returned home from
the diner. Her hair and clothes smelled of fried chicken and apple pie and the
scents were making her drowsy despite the weight of change in her pockets. She
pulled into the short carport beside her father’s motorcycle and paused a
moment to shake her head. She still found it hard to believe that Zack rode
that motorcycle all year round, even in two feet of snow and ice. Sometimes,
Aerith practically begged him to let her drive him to work.
Xion kicked open the door and stepped out into the snow, shivering as the cold
wind cut through her thin white blouse. She shrugged into her coat and yanked
her hat down over her ears. Then, she stepped around the corner of the garage
and watched her family with a smile on her face.
Now, everyone was out frolicking in the fresh snow. There was so much general
shouting and shrieking and running amok that Xion had a feeling the next state
could hear them.
Zack and Aerith had helped erect a small army of snowmen that now fringed most
of the backyard. Demyx was clinging to Aerith’s legs, screaming wildly and
working himself up to start bawling if a snowflake so much as touched him.
Namine crafted an elaborate igloo with Zack’s help and her blue eyes sparkled
in the dimness. Sora pulled Kairi on the sled, skidding through the drifts and
laughing loudly. Hayner, Olette, and Pence were having snowball war, screaming
and shrieking. The dogs leaped and jumped, trying to catch errant snowballs.
Roxas stood off to the side beside the snowman, blending in like just another
sculpture of snow and ice with his pale hair and skin.
Though the sight of her wild family warmed Xion’s heart, she had a feeling it
freaked out the neighbors.
She finally stepped into the beam of light from the porch and raised her hands
in a vigorous greeting. “Helloooo, loved ones!” she shouted and immediately
ducked to avoid a snowball. “Hey!”
There was a general happy eager cry of “Xion!” and all seven kids charged
towards her, smiling and laughing. Xion spent a long moment hugging each of
them, laughing, as if she hadn’t seen them a few hours earlier. God, she loved
them.
Was this what a family was like?
Did they love this much?
Xion was assalted by snowballs for several minutes before she finally managed
to break free and make her way over to Roxas. She brushed snow from her hair
and clothes and shivered dramatically. “Jesus, it’s freezing. Now I know how
Axel feels,” she said jokingly.
Roxas paled at the mention of his master’s name so Xion quickly changed the
subject. “So, how’ve you been getting along with everyone?”
“Fine,” he whispered.
She smiled broadly. “My family’s pretty great,” she said with a sigh. “I told
them all about you and they wanted to do what they could to help.”
Roxas’s throat flashed as he swallowed. “Oh,” he murmured.
Zack approached with Kairi and Sora hanging on his legs like monkeys. He
pressed a kiss to Aerith’s cheek and slung his arm around her shoulders. Then,
he ruffled Xion’s hat and hair, saying, “Hey kiddo. How was work?”
“Fine,” Xion said. “Just picking up the slack.”
“Dayshifts are always like that. It’s the night crew that has all the
dedication,” Zack said affectionately.
“Have you been taking good care of Roxas?” Xion asked her father and mother.
Aerith nodded smoothly.
“Sure,” Zack agreed. “I even taught him how to make a snowball.”
Xion swallowed back the disbelief that Roxas hadn’t known how to make one.
“That’s good,” she said.
“So, should we go inside and get dinner started?” Aerith asked lightly. “It’s
almost dark.”
“I’m starving,” Zack said.
“I split a burger with a coworker, but I could eat,” Xion agreed.
Aerith nodded and tucked some chestnut-colored hair behind her ear. “Roxas, why
don’t you give me a hand?”
The boy nodded slowly and let the snowball drop from his hands.
“Don’t be so nervous,” Zack said abruptly and clapped Roxas on the shoulder.
Xion saw the poor beaten boy’s lips twist with pain, but her mother beat her to
the reprimand.
Aerith pushed Zack back with her elbow and reached out for Roxas. “It’s
alright,” she soothed. “Just give us a chance. Everyone deserves a chance,
don’t you think, Roxas?”
He stared into her kind smiling face and then slowly nodded.
Aerith offered her hand, Roxas took it, and she guided him through the snowball
fight. Being a mother was as good as having a force field. Neither her kids nor
her husband would dare pelt her with snowballs.
A few feet away, Xion was now at the center of an endless barrage of snowballs,
laughing and shrieking as they rained down on her. Zack jumped in after her
like a soldier, helping her fight against the seven kids. Everyone was shouting
and laughing, screaming and yelling, but they were all smiling. Roxas didn’t
think he had ever seen so many smiles. Even when he turned his eyes away from
the family, Aerith was smiling as well.
It was a heart-warming sight, Roxas decided as he followed Aerith into the warm
house. He wished he had had a life like this at some point, even for a short
while. Memories like these he would treasure until the end of his days. But he
wondered even now, how long would this last before pain came back into his
life?
                                     X X X
(1) Xion’s house was greatly inspired by Helen’s house from the 2005 version of
“Yours, Mine, and Ours.” It’s hilarious movie. Everyone should totally watch
it!
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Of Hearth and Home *****
I love this chapter and it’s so long. How’s that for a change?
                                     X X X
Aerith had demanded her family stay outside and continue playing while she
brought Roxas inside and started dinner. Xion didn’t have much of a choice
since she was pinned in the middle of a dog-pile. Zack didn’t get much time
with his children and he wasn’t going to let this golden opportunity slip by.
(Besides, if he could tucker them all out, then maybe Daddy would get lucky
with Mommy tonight.) Roxas followed Aerith into the warm artsy tipsy house,
immediately engulfed in the soothing scents of baking gingerbread and flowers
that chased the chill of winter from his bones. A calm he had never known
wrapped its arms around him and he sighed softly in bliss.
“Do you like it?” Aerith asked him. She gently pressed her hand against his
lower back to move him aside so she could open the coat closet. She shrugged
out of her pale pea coat, hung it up in the closet, and toed off her fur-lined
boots. Beneath the pea coat, she was wearing a broomstick skirt of pale blue
and white layers and a pink camisole with a white blouse embroidered with
colorful flowers. She was so beautiful and her face was so kind.
Roxas just stared at her as he took off his coat and handed it to her, his lips
parted slightly and his blue eyes shining brightly in the warm buttery light of
the house. He had never known a woman like her in his life. If he had ever had
a mother, or if he had ever seen his mother, he was certain she would have been
as beautiful and sweet as Aerith. He let out a soft breath of air.
Aerith smiled at him gently and reached out to touch him, to brush the pale
hair back from his bruised face.
Even with the thoughts he had just been thinking, Roxas couldn’t help
reflexively flinched away from her touch. Then, when she sighed softly, he had
never felt so ashamed. Aerith had made no move to hurt him in the time he had
been alone with her. Her touch would probably be as kind as her face, but he
just couldn’t banish the fear that had been beaten into his mind, body, and
soul.
“I… I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Aerith reached for the young boy again, slower, letting him watch her every
move. Then, she gently embraced him, the smell of crushed flowers and
peppermint surrounding him in something that felt almost… safe. It was so
strange but wonderful. Roxas felt tears burning in his eyes and throat.
A shudder wracked his frail body and Aerith rubbed his thin back soothingly.
She hushed him, stroked his pale hair, and then began humming deep and low in
her throat. The tune rose and fell like water, wrapping around him as tightly
and gently as her warm arms. That feeling swelled within Roxas’s chest and a
single hot tear burned a path down his face.
“Oh, Roxas,” Aerith murmured. “It’s alright, baby, it’s alright.”
Roxas wrapped his arms around her tightly. Desperately, he clung to her gentle
body. He was sobbing now, his heart thundering behind the cage of his ribs, and
an endless stream of tears flowed down his pale face. He felt as if everything
bad that had ever happened was bared to her soft eyes and she still found him
worthy of her embrace. Aerith just held him, humming and whispering sweet
nothings, until his tears dried into soft hiccups and he found the strength to
open his eyes and look into her beautiful face.
Aerith smiled at him warmly. “It’s alright, Roxas,” she whispered again.
“You’re safe now.”
He choked, swallowing a fresh wave of scalding tears.
Though Chives had been taking down the Christmas décor in Axel’s villa, the
holidays were still in full-swing at the Gainsborough-Fair household. Xion’s
mother took Roxas on a quick tour of the house now that it was empty and quiet
while everyone was outside. The living room was spectacularly homey with plush
leather couches, an overstuffed armchair that clearly belonged to a man, and a
lovely coffee table with packed shelves underneath. There were toys, well-read
books, and patchwork quilts spread across the room. In the corner, waiting like
a smile, was their small and densely decorated tree though no presents remained
underneath.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Aerith asked.
He nodded.
“Did Axel give you presents?”
He bit his lip, hesitated, and then nodded.
“That’s good,” Aerith murmured.
Then, she guided him into the kitchen and Roxas felt spirited into another
world. Now that his fear had abated, he dared to look around at everything. The
kitchen was as old-fashioned and lived-in as the living room. The cabinets were
warm cherry, the counters were pale white granite, and the appliances were only
a few years old. At the kitchen’s center, there was a large island with a bowl
of fruit, a basket of potatoes, and several toy cars. The cars Aerith quickly
swept up and deposited in the living room with a sheepish smile.
Christmas had spilled over into the kitchen as well. Mistletoe hung down
teasingly, boughs of evergreens hung from the rafters in the ceiling
intermingled with dried bouquets of lilies, and a wreath hung in the window
with countless tinsel lights everywhere so that the kitchen looked like a fairy
village. There were two gingerbread houses on the island, one half-eaten and
the other yet untouched. A manger scene was set up on the top of the fridge.
“Wow,” Roxas breathed.
“You like it?” Aerith asked him softly. She didn’t mention that he had sat
silently at the kitchen table with the children earlier.
He blushed and shame welled in his throat. “Very much… m-master,” he whispered.
Aerith frowned. “Master?” she repeated. “Why would you call me that?”
“B-because you are,” he murmured.
She was silent, watching him closely.
“A-aren’t you?” he asked.
Gently, Aerith touched his narrow shoulder. “Roxas, I know the rest of the
world might feel that way about you, about what you’ve been made into, about
how you’ve been sold like an object that didn’t mean anything… but we’re
different in this family. I have raised my children never to look down on
others, regardless of anything that has happened to them in this life and I
feel the same way,” she whispered.
“B-but—” Roxas whispered.
She pulled him into another hug. “To me, Roxas, you are only a child in need of
love,” she said gently. “You are not a slave… Not in this house. Alright?”
Fresh tears filled Roxas’s blue eyes. “R-really?”
She nodded. “Twenty years ago, a man named Ansem Wise started a protest against
slavery. Zack and I would have joined him if we hadn’t had Xion at the time. I
don’t think it’s right to own another person and make them do things they don’t
want to do.”
The boy wet his lips, staring into her pale pretty face. Her voice and
expression were genuine. “What happened to him?”
“He was killed,” Aerith said softly. “Shot. Then, there was a fire. His family
disappeared and some think they went into hiding. They never found out who
killed Ansem and no one’s sure what happened to his family either.”
Roxas’s throat flashed as he swallowed nervously.
“Now,” Aerith said as she shook off the veil of sadness, “how about you help me
make dinner? I could always use help in the kitchen.”
Blushing at her smile, Roxas nodded. “I… I’d be… happy to.”
Aerith smiled anew. “Good,” she said.
Then, she set him up snapping green beans at the island while she took out a
tray of lasagna, sprinkled it with another layer of cheese, and put it into the
oven. Then, she joined him at the island, humming happily while she worked.
Roxas had never felt this way in his life and he couldn’t describe the feeling
for the world. All he knew was that he liked this and, dare he think it, he was
happy. He hardly found the space in his heart to miss Cleo. This place… it was
wonderful and safe and Aerith was so kind. He smiled as he snapped the beans
into thirds.
He really smiled.
…
Dinner was comfortable bedlam, organized chaos, and efficient mayhem. The table
proved to be filled to absolute maximum capacity with Aerith, Zack, their eight
children, and Roxas all squeezed in around it. The Gainsborough-Fairs packed
Roxas in between Aerith and Xion, so close that their elbows were touching and
made do with the lack of space. They were the kind of people who had learned to
roll with the punches over the years and they had to—having eight kids and all.
It was leftover night and everything Roxas had ever imagined eating was spread
out in a banquet across the table. It was a feast fit for kings and yet, here
he was.
Roxas had never felt so protected, sheltered, and even cared for. He couldn’t
keep the small faint smile from curving his lips. He had had a family dinner
with Axel and Luxord Inferno, but this—this was so completely and wholly
different. There was life and chatter and laughter and smiles. This was what a
family was really like.
“Pass me the green beans, honey,” Zack called from one end of the table to the
other.
Aerith smiled, grasped the bowl, and handed it to Hayner. “Give this to your
father,” she said.
He nodded, passed it to Sora and Kairi, and then it finally reached Zack’s
hands. “Thanks everyone,” he said. “Nice teamwork.”
“Thanks,” the family chirruped.
Aerith turned to Demyx. “Smaller bites, yikes!” she said and helped him cut the
ham on his plate leftover from Christmas dinner into human-sized bites. “Let me
help the carnivore cut his meat.”
Demyx growled, pretending to be said carnivore.
Olette laughed and then turned to Namine, the two of them whispering for a
moment.
“What’s the big secret, ladies?” Xion asked them.
“Nothing!” they said in unison.
Then, Olette giggled and her cheeks flushed with color. She couldn’t keep a
secret to save her life. “Namine wants to draw me!” she exclaimed.
“Olette!” Namine snapped sourly. “You weren’t supposed to tell. You’re such a
blabbermouth.”
“I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it!” the orange-clad girl said with another giggle.
“I’ll help you with your math to make up for it.”
“You love math,” Kairi put in.
“Yeah, so it’s not much of a punishment,” Sora added.
“You should have to play sports!” Hayner chipped in. “Against me! How about
soccer?”
“There’s three feet of snow on the ground and the backyard is full of snowmen!”
Olette protested. She looked like she was going to cry.
Xion opened her mouth to intervene.
Pence beat her to it. “Don’t pick on Olette, guys,” he said to his siblings.
Aerith smiled at her family and then turned to glance at Roxas. Her sparkling
eyes seemed to say, ‘Isn’t this nice?’
Roxas nodded, his lips still curved faintly.
Xion watched Roxas with her wonderful family and decided that when she called
Axel later to tell him how everything was going, she would have no bad things
to report. This seemed to be exactly what Roxas needed—time away from Axel,
with a real family, in a comfortable home, with people who cared nothing for
his past or his lack of future or that he was a slave. Already, she could see
the boy coming out of his shattered shell under her mother’s goddess influence.
…
Yawning, Xion made her way down the hallway to her room. She had her towel
slung around her shoulders, her bare feet slap-slapped on the hardwood, and her
cotton pajamas clung to her thin frame. She peeked in on her siblings as she
went, turning off lights and rearranging blankets and tucking in teddy bears
and giving out gentle sisterly kisses.
Hayner was sacked out, snoring loudly, sprawled all over the bed like he was
partially made out of liquid. He was wearing an over-sized hockey jersey as
pajamas with a football tucked under his arm. One of the dogs was sleeping in
the middle of the floor, running in its sleep. Xion stepped over the dog,
plucked the football from Hayner’s grasp, and set it on the nightstand.
Though Pence shared a room with Hayner, there was practically a line splitting
it down the middle. Hayner’s side was strewn with sports equipment and Pence’s
was neatly organized with everything in its place. Pence had tucked himself in
so neatly he might have been in a coffin, hands folded and arms crossed. He was
incredibly peaceful in sleep and in his waking hours. Xion smoothed his covers
slightly and closed their door lightly.
Just next door, Olette was asleep at her desk. There were countless books,
papers, and pens spread around her like a nest. Xion roused her gingerly,
closed up the books, and swept up the pens while Olette shuffled into her
pajamas. Xion tucked her in, kissed her goodnight, and shut off the desk lamp.
Namine shared a room with Olette. Between the two of them, there were enough
papers, books, and pencils to sink a ship. Namine was sitting up in her ruffled
white pajamas with the blankets drawn over her legs, drawing busily. Her pale
skin and blue eyes glowed in the dimness.
“Time for bed,” Xion said to her.
With grace beyond her years, Namine nodded. She set aside her sketchpad,
searched her blankets for her missing eraser, and burrowed down within the
cocoon of covers. She wrapped both arms around her favorite stuffed animal—a
white duck wearing blue. Xion flipped off the remaining lights and left the
door open a crack.
Xion peeked into Sora and Kairi’s shared room next. Sora’s bed was empty and
still neatly-made, but Xion saw two heads resting on the pillow of Kairi’s.
With a sigh, Xion pulled the quilt off Sora’s bed and covered them both up.
They didn’t stir, nestled as close together now as they had been in the womb.
“Sweet dreams,” Xion said to the twins and left their room.
Finally, she checked in on Demyx. His nightlight glowed brightly through the
shaft of his open door. Until a new baby came along, Demyx had the nursery all
to himself. Even though he was a little too old for it, there wasn’t room for
him in any of his siblings’ rooms yet. He was sleeping just as peacefully as
Pence, surrounded by stuffed animals and pillows.
Xion stopped outside her parents’ bedroom and rapped lightly on the door.
“Come on in,” Zack called.
Xion opened the door and peered around the threshold. “I checked on all the
kids,” she told her father. “Everything’s fine.”
“Thanks Xion,” Zack said gratefully. “You’re really a lifesaver.”
“No problem,” she said. “Try to keep it down tonight, okay?”
Zack grinned, but didn’t say anything further.
Xion closed the door tightly and went back to the kitchen with her cell phone
in hand. She punched in Axel’s number and listened to the line ringing as she
peered into the fridge for a midnight snack. Selecting a key lime pie flavored
yogurt, Xion had just put the first spoonful into her mouth when Axel answered.
“Xion, how is everything?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said after she had swallowed. “Roxas is getting along fine. I don’t
think you need to worry.”
Axel let out a breath of relief. “Good,” he murmured.
“And what about you?” Xion asked. “Are you getting any rest?”
“Sure,” Axel said. “I’m watching a movie on the couch. My ribs hurt pretty
badly so it’s hard to sleep.”
“Did you take some pain killers?”
“Nah,” he muttered.
“You should,” she said. “You being in pain isn’t going to help Roxas any.”
“I know,” Axel breathed out. “But I just… he’s been through so much. I want to
understand at least a little of his pain.”
“You can’t,” Xion said shortly. “So just take care of yourself, okay?”
Axel was quiet for a moment.
“Okay?” Xion repeated insistently.
“Okay,” he relented. “I’ll take some aspirin.”
“Good boy,” she said. “Now, it’s getting late so I’m going to bed. I’ll talk to
you tomorrow and you’ll pick Roxas up the day after, right?”
“Friday,” Axel agreed.
“Goodnight,” Xion said.
“Night.”
Xion ended the call, finished her yogurt, and walked down the hall back to her
own bedroom. It was dark and quiet inside. There was an air-mattress inflated
in the corner for Roxas. Axel’s pretty slave boy was lying there, deceptively
still, and Xion immediately knew that he was awake. She was not easily fooled
by little tricks like that, not when she had seven younger brothers and
sisters. With a sigh, Xion curled up in her own bed and lay on her side,
looking at the fortress of bone that was Roxas’s back. He started breathing
again once she went still.
“I know you’re awake,” she said. Her voice was sudden and louder than she had
intended in the silence of the room.
Roxas tensed.
“Roll over, Roxas,” she said. “Let’s talk.”
The boy did as she asked, his blue eyes glowing like fireflies in the darkness.
“Y-yes master?” he whispered.
“Didn’t Mom talk to you about that?” Xion asked.
“Yes,” he whispered. He lowered those beautiful eyes. “She told me about… what
you think of me…”
Xion nodded, resting her head on her hand. “We’re not like other people,
Roxas.”
“I know,” he whispered. “You are all… so kind to me.”
This was the moment, Xion realized. She would deliver a quick blow to the
fragile walls of mistrust and fear that Roxas had built between him and Axel.
“You know, Axel and I have been friends for a long time and he’s not like other
people either.”
Roxas jolted. “Cloud told me that… before he died…”
Xion didn’t say whether Cloud was right or wrong, she just nodded. Her face was
smooth and calm as she waited.
“Was he… wrong?” Roxas asked like a frightened child seeking the answer from a
wise parent.
“Well, has he hurt you?” Xion asked. “Intentionally?”
Roxas hesitated a moment, thinking. Axel had inadvertently hurt him several
times, but had he done it intentionally? Axel had nearly taken him, but Roxas
had initiated that kiss out of desperation and once Axel had sensed his
discomfort and fear, he had immediately stopped. “No,” Roxas breathed out.
“Do you think he will?”
Again, he hesitated. Xion could practically smell smoke as the gears in his
head began to turn as he thought about his short life with Axel. Axel had been
so kind. He had bought him clothes, presents, and the sweet puppy, Cleo. He had
given him his own room with a bed and a shower. He fed him things that were
actually fit for consumption. “No,” he breathed again.
“So…?” Xion murmured, trailing off.
The epiphany seemed to strike the boy solidly. He sucked in a sharp breath of
air and stared at her brightly in the darkness. “Then… my master is…”
“He’s truly kind. He wants to help you,” Xion whispered, “just like we do.”
Roxas bit his lower lip.
“Why don’t you just give him a chance? Just a small chance?” Xion suggested.
“Everyone deserves a chance, right?”
He hesitated and then nodded slowly.
“Good,” Xion said. “Now, get some sleep.” She rolled over, burrowing into the
covers.
But Roxas lay awake much longer, staring at the glow-in-the-dark star-speckled
ceiling in wonder. Could it really be possible? Could his master really care
for him? Could his master really be kind? But… he had believed that before and
been hurt so badly. It wasn’t smart to trust, but from the bottom of his broken
soul, he wanted to. God, he wanted to.
…
Axel Inferno had dozed off in front of the television shortly after talking
with Xion. After taking some aspirin, the pain in his ribcage diminished to a
dull throb that allowed him to fall asleep.
He had always been a heavy sleeper and was usually able to sleep anywhere. His
father used to joke that he was going to pick up Axel’s bed and put it in the
front yard so that when Axel woke up in the morning, he would be very confused
as to why he was outside and no longer in his bedroom. Luxord probably would
have been able to do that too. Axel could sleep through World War Three.
That was probably why he had missed the break in and subsequent robbery.
…
On the other hand, Chives was an incredibly light sleeper. He awoke the moment
he heard the sound of breaking glass and rolled over to look at the clock. At
first, he lay in his warm comfortable bed, wondering what Axel was doing
breaking things this late at night. After a moment, he still didn’t hear any
cursing which was strange. Whenever Axel broke something, he sounded like a
sailor, but the night was silent save that one soft sound of breaking glass.
With a sigh, Chives got out of bed and shrugged into his flannel robe, belting
it around his plump waist.
He made his way downstairs to the kitchen, figuring that Axel had probably been
making himself a snack and knocked something over. “Axel?” he called, his voice
bouncing off the walls. “What are you doing? And what did you break?” Chives
asked.
There was only silence, but the butler could hear someone breathing.
“Axel?” he asked again. “What are you doing? Especially this late at night?”
Silence answered him, broken only by soft breathing.
“Did you hurt yourself?” Chives asked. “Axel?”
Chives reached for the light switch and flipped it, flooding the room with
bright light. Blinking in the brightness, it took his aged eyes a moment to
adjust. Then, for one stunned moment, he and the strange man in the kitchen
just stared at each other. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in the butler’s
neck and his whole world went black.
That was why Chives missed the subsequent robbery, though he probably wished
that he had slept through it as Axel had.
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Something Worth Stealing *****
Aspio: I have no idea who you are or what you are talking about. I have never
used your name.
I would like to thank Yukiko no Kyuubi no Kitsune for the idea that got me out
of my self-dug-grave (for now…)
                                     X X X
First thing the next morning, Xion woke to the obnoxious sound of her phone
ringing. It was vibrating, going crazy on the nightstand beside her bed, and
ringing louder than her alarm clock ever did. With a groan, she rolled over and
groped for it.
“Hello?” she answered blearily.
“Xion!” came Axel’s voice. “Are you okay? Is everything okay?”
The panic in his voice immediately woke her completely. She sat up sharply in
bed, shedding the covers left and right, and turned on the lamp on her
nightstand. Roxas’s pale face and bright eyes shone in the sudden illumination,
startling her. She clutched the phone, her fingers whitening around it.
“Axel?” Xion asked. “What is it? What’s going on?”
“Someone broke into my house and knocked out Chives,” he said.
“Shit!” she cursed. “Is he okay? Are you okay?”
“We’re both fine. I was asleep the whole time. Chives was knocked out, but he’s
okay. He just has a bruise on his neck and a goose egg growing on his
forehead,” Axel explained.
“Thank goodness,” Xion breathed out. “Was anything taken?”
Axel was quiet for a moment and then admitted, “Cleo.”
Xion bit back the urge to repeat the puppy’s name aloud. “What?” she asked
instead. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Axel said and Xion could envision him pushing his hands through
his thick hair. “Chives didn’t get a good look at the intruder and there wasn’t
a note left behind. I think Chives’s interruption made him bolt before he
accomplished everything he wanted to do. He just took Cleo.”
“What are you going to do, Axel?” Xion asked.
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “Do you think you can keep Roxas at your house,
just for a little while?”
Xion nodded and said, “Sure. The kids will all leave for school. Once my
parents come home, this place is safer than Fort Knox.”
“Thanks,” Axel breathed out. He was quiet for a moment, thinking, breathing
hard. “I’m going to go after Cleo,” he said finally. “I’m pretty sure the
Organization came back for Roxas last night and when they didn’t find him, they
took Cleo instead. They have to know how much Cleo means to him.”
“Don’t worry about a thing here,” Xion assured him. “I have everything under
control.”
“Thanks, Xion,” Axel said.
“Call me often,” she said. “If I don’t hear from you, I’m calling the cops and
sending them after you.”
Axel chuckled. “You’re a good friend,” he said.
Xion dipped her head. “As soon as all this is over, I hope you know I’m going
to kick your ass for waking me up so early all the time,” she said jokingly.
“I’d expect nothing less,” Axel said. “Bye.”
Xion hung up and set the phone back on her nightstand. Roxas was staring at
her, his small white fingers tangled in the sheets and blankets. His face was
pale, his eyes gleamed in the light of the lamp, and his hair was wildly mussed
in all directions. He looked adorable, but the concern marred his features like
a scar.
“That was Axel,” Xion explained as lightly as she could. “He was just checking
in.”
“Did something happen?” Roxas asked timidly.
Xion wanted to lie, but she knew Roxas wasn’t that stupid. It was still dark
beyond the curtains of her window. No one called this early just to check in,
not even Axel. “Yes,” she admitted. “Something happened at Axel’s mansion.”
Roxas froze. His shoulders jerked ramrod straight and he shuddered. “Is
everything alright?”
Xion didn’t bask in the concern the boy obviously showed for Axel. It looked
like she had finally gotten through to the poor boy. “Chives and Axel are both
fine,” she told him. “Axel is going to take care of everything. He wants you to
stay with me until he gets this all sorted out. Alright?”
Roxas lowered his eyes to the sheets draped over his narrow thighs. “Is it… the
Organization?” he whispered.
“Axel thinks so,” Xion admitted.
“Then, it’s not safe for me to stay with you,” Roxas murmured. “I should go.”
Xion swung her legs out of the bed and sank onto the air-mattress beside him.
She reached out and Roxas pulled away, but she was more persistent and less
cautious than Axel or Aerith. She swathed him in an awkward side hug and said
firmly, “You don’t know what my parents do for a living, Roxas. They can
protect you and so can I. Trust me.”
Roxas’s throat flashed as he swallowed. “Alright,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
Xion patted him gently on the back, rose from the air-mattress, and crawled
back into bed. “Let’s get a little more sleep,” she said. “In about half an
hour, this place will be a riot. The kids all have to eat breakfast and then
leave for school. Maybe we’ll take a nice nap afterwards.” Then, within
seconds, Xion began to snore softly.
Roxas stifled a soft laugh and tried to go back to sleep as well. His heart was
pounding in his chest, but surprisingly, he was able to fall back asleep. He
wasn’t certain why, but he believed everything Xion had told him. He felt safe
in her house and with her family.
…
After Axel got off the phone with Xion, he turned his attention back to Chives.
“Are you okay?” he asked the butler for what must have been the millionth time.
“Not particularly, but I’m not going to die,” he muttered and moved a bag of
frozen peas from the hideous bruise on his neck to the lump on his forehead.
His assailant had managed a solid and perfect blow to the butler’s vagus nerve
and the disorienting blow had caused Chives to hit his head on the descent to
the floor.
“Guess there’s a little truth to the Vulcan Nerve Pinch, huh?”
Chives slid Axel a glare. “This is no time for jokes,” he said sternly.
“I know, I know,” Axel muttered as he took several deep breathes to gauge the
pain in his ribcage. The conditions of his body weren’t ideal for going after
the Organization again, but Axel didn’t have a choice. He could leave Cleo in
the hands of those psychos and there wasn’t much chance that a random cat
burglar had gone through all the effort of breaking into Axel’s mansion only to
steal a puppy. It just had to be the Organization.
“Maybe you should wait a little bit,” Chives said suddenly. “You could buy a
gun, at least.”
“I don’t believe in guns,” Axel muttered.
“Trust me, they’re very real,” Chives insisted. “It’s so dangerous. You can’t
just charge in like you did last time. I’m sure they’ll be expecting you.”
“I beat the hell out of them last time, Chives,” Axel said plainly. “I even
beat up my own father. They know not to mess with me. I’m sure most of that
pathetic group bolted. Besides, you only saw one man in our kitchen last night,
right?”
“I was only conscious for ten minutes,” Chives protested. “There could have
been five others standing in the shadows and I never would have known.”
Axel scraped back his hair. “I’m sure it was just one,” he insisted.
“Why are you so sure of that?” Chives demanded. “There’s no evidence. This is
crazy, Axel.”
Axel got his long black coat from the closet and shrugged into it with a wince
of pain. “I’m going to go to their little cabin and look in all the windows. If
I think I can, I’ll take care of them myself. If there’re more than two of
them, I’ll come back for a better weapon. Okay?”
Chives heaved out a deep sigh. He knew there was no stopping Axel at this
point. The kid had always been determined to a fault. Most masters would have
given up on Roxas weeks ago or just purchased a new puppy, but Axel wasn’t that
sort of person.
“At least take something better than a tire iron,” he said finally.
Axel smirked. “I’m bringing a golf club instead,” he agreed.
Chives shook his head and groaned as pain speared through his neck and skull.
“Just go,” he said. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back. Maybe we
can resolve all this.”
Axel nodded. “I’d love to know why these people want Roxas so badly. He’s just
a slave, isn’t he?”
Chives shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows?” he murmured. “Now, if I don’t hear
from you every hour, I’m going to call the Coast Guard. Alright?”
Barking a laugh, Axel said, “That’s almost the same thing Xion told me. Great
minds must think alike, huh?”
Chives slid him a long-suffering look. “Just go,” he repeated.
Axel zipped up his long coat, pulled the dark hood up over his red hair,
grabbed the golf club from its position by the door, and was gone into the
snowy pre-dawn. He slogged through the dense snow and slammed himself into his
car. He knew the way back to the Organization’s cabin and drove with single-
minded purpose, stopping only to call Xion and Chives. Finally, he pulled down
the narrow driveway and stared up at the Organization’s cabin.
…
Xion had just bundled the last kid onto the school bus and the Gainsborough-
Fair household was finally quiet and still. She handed Roxas a mug of steaming
hot chocolate and moved through the house to pick up assorted dishes, coats,
and papers. The Christmas tree twinkled merrily in the corner, the dogs were in
the backyard, and the cats were playing with something that jingled fiercely.
Xion shook a few flakes of fish food into the aquarium before finally sitting
down across from him at the kitchen table with a deep sigh of relief. Her cell
phone lay on the table between them.
“Is it always like this in the morning?” Roxas asked her nervously.
When she only grinned at him, the little frozen ball of fear in his chest began
to melt. “Most mornings, yeah,” she said and took a sip of her cocoa. “There
are a lot of people living here and most of our life is organized chaos. I’ve
lived with it for so long that I hardly even notice anymore. I don’t know what
to do with the dark or the quiet.”
Roxas stared at her cell phone a moment. Axel had called about twenty minutes
ago and talked to Xion for about five. The words to ask to speak with his
master had been bottled up in Roxas’s throat, but then he hadn’t dared ask.
Maybe the next time Axel called, Roxas would ask to speak to him. He was
worried about his strange kind master, even though he knew it would be terrible
to admit it.
“Are you worried about Axel?” Xion asked suddenly.
Roxas jolted in his seat, but his reaction gave him away before he could think
to lie.
“So am I,” Xion murmured. “I don’t know much about this Organization, but they
seem pretty dangerous. I heard about what they did to you. Those scars…”
Ashamed, Roxas folded his hand over the mess of small burns on his forearm.
“Do you know anything about them, Roxas?” she asked. “About why they want you
so badly?”
Roxas started to shake his head, but stopped suddenly. He had been thinking
more and more lately about the Organization. They had told him everything
once—why they hurt him so badly, why they kept him, why they would never let
him go—but Roxas couldn’t remember through the haze of suffocation that clouded
his mind. Lately, he had been trying very hard to remember and little snippets
were starting to come back to him. They were merely fragments—a word, an image,
a voice. The memory was hardly anything really, but…
“I’ve been trying to remember,” Roxas admitted. “They told me once.”
Xion wet her lips and looked at him eagerly. “And?”
He shrugged nervously and twisted his fingers together. “I don’t remember much.
I think it had something to do with my parents…”
“Your parents?” Xion repeated.
Roxas nodded slowly and nervously traced his fingers over the map of bruises
circling his wrist. “I’m being punished for something they did,” he murmured
more to himself than to Xion. “They told me that I deserved this. That it was
my punishment.”
“Were your parents slaves?” Xion asked.
Roxas jolted and stared into her blue eyes for a long moment. “I don’t… I don’t
know,” he confessed. “I don’t remember.”
“What’s your earliest memory?” she asked.
He wet his lips, probing the split at the corner of his mouth with the tip of
his tongue. “There was… a fire,” he murmured. “I remember there being a fire.”
“A fire?” Xion repeated. She tilted her head and stared out the window at the
army of snowmen for a long moment. “A fire…”
Roxas gazed at her as she twisted a strand of dark hair around her finger until
it practically curled. He wet his lips nervously as his eyes strayed to her
cell phone. He thought of Axel, of his flame-colored hair, of his warm kind
hands. He thought of Cloud, of the familiar planes of his face, of his golden
hair and blue eyes so much like Roxas’s own.
“A fire,” Xion murmured again. “How old did you say you were, Roxas?”
“Fifteen,” he told her.
“Do you have any idea how long you’ve been a slave?”
Though he shook his head, she didn’t appear discouraged. She rose from the
table, snatched her phone, and stuffed it into her pocket. She grabbed her coat
from the closet and tossed Roxas his. “Come with me,” she said. “We’re going
out for a little while. I have an idea.”
Roxas nodded and shrugged into his coat. Xion draped a scarf around his neck
and pulled a knitted hat down over her inky hair. Then, she grabbed her car
keys and the two of them trudged out into the snowy morning. Birds were
chirping, the sun was shining, and the icicles that circled the roof were
beginning to melt. It was a beautiful day, even if winter was still hanging on
with both hands.
                                     X X X
I've been updating a lot lately.
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** The Library and the Cabin *****
I’m so tired. It’s been a long few days.
                                     X X X
Xion parked her car in front of the library and gestured for Roxas to follow
her. They stared up at the building together for a moment. It was pretty
fantastic to look at after all. The entire front was nothing but glass windows
that peered in on a nerdy utopia of overstuffed couches, row upon row of books,
and librarians that spent most of their time reading rather than complaining
about noise.
“Have you ever been to a library before?” Xion asked Roxas as she crunched her
way across the salted parking lot.
Roxas shook his head. “I don’t know how to read,” he confessed.
A little breath caught in Xion’s throat, but she forced herself not to react
with the horror she felt inside. God, Roxas had been deprived of so much. She
made a mental note to tell Axel about this as soon as she talked to him. She
glanced at her watch. He had called while she was driving to the library, but
she hadn’t told him anything of her plan. She would hear from Axel again within
the hour and she hoped to have more to tell him than just Roxas’s illiteracy.
“Come on,” she said cheerfully and stomped some clinging snow off her boots in
the threshold.
“What are we doing here?” he asked shyly as she led him to a bank of computers
at the rear of the building.
“I have a hunch,” she said as she took off her coat and handed it to him. Then,
she sat down before the computer and began busily typing.
“What’s a hunch?” Roxas asked.
“Woman’s intuition,” she said and typed in a new search word.
Roxas wet his lips and stood quietly beside her, looking at the screen as if it
meant something to him. He vaguely recognized the font and colors of the pages
that streamed past. Newspaper, he thought. He had once been given a stack to
keep himself warm with when his clothes were destroyed by the overzealous
master who had once been kind to him. He shuddered at the memory and forced
himself to remain in the present.
Xion flicked through several more pages of results and then started a new
search.
“Can I ask… what you’re looking for?” Roxas asked nervously.
“Sure,” Xion said and paged through several things too quickly for Roxas to
even understand the pictures. “I thought maybe if we went back to the year you
were born and searched for information on fires, we might find something out
about why this Organization has it out for you so badly.”
Roxas peered at the screen, but didn’t recognize anything on it. “Really?”
Xion nodded and then sighed, “But it looks like I might have brought us out
here for nothing. I can’t find anything in the newspaper archives about any
serious fires in the past fifteen years.”
Roxas wet his lips, his heart pounded against his ribs, and he nervously said,
“Try searching for the Organization.”
“I tried that first,” Xion said. “Nothing.” She sat back in the chair and
turned slightly to face Roxas. “Any other suggestions?”
“What about the name… Xemnas?” Roxas murmured.
“Who’s that?” Xion asked.
Roxas shrugged lightly. “The man who leads the Organization. He’s the one who’s
always thinking of new ways to torture and rape me.”
Xion shuddered, but turned back to the screen regardless. She paged through a
short list of results, her blue eyes growing wider and wider as they skimmed
the pages quickly.
“What is it?” Roxas asked.
“We need to get print outs of this,” was all she said. “Axel will need to see
this when he gets back.”
“Gets back?” Roxas repeated.
Xion’s eyes flashed to his face and then back to the screen. “Axel made me
promise not to tell you, but last night, someone broke into his house.”
“You told me that,” Roxas murmured.
“I didn’t tell you that they took Cleo and that Axel is going after her,” she
continued.
Roxas gasped and his eyes widened. “What? Why?”
Xion pushed away from the computer. “He wants to settle this once and for all.
He wants you to be safe.”
Roxas chewed his lower lip nervously.
Xion gestured for Roxas to follow and walked over to a machine that was noisily
spitting out sheets of paper with meaningless words on it. Xion took each
sheet, shuffled them into a stack, and then silently led Roxas to a new section
of the library. She browsed through several books, shelving a few and handing a
few to Roxas. He wished he knew what they were all for, but Xion didn’t seem
inclined to tell him. She muttered to herself as she searched.
“Xion?” Roxas ventured just as her phone started ringing.
She answered in a quick whisper, thinking it was Axel. “Yeah?”
Chives voice came over the line as if from a great way off, peppered with
concern and laced with panic. “Have you heard from Axel in the last hour?”
Xion shuffled all the papers in her arms and looked around for a clock. Finding
none, she asked, “What time is it, Chives?”
“Almost one,” he told her.
Her heart skipped a beat. Axel should have called her about fifteen minutes ago
to let her know everything was all right. Countless scenarios flashed through
her mind, each worse than the next. Her knuckles whitened around the books and
papers.
“Are you saying that you haven’t heard from Axel either?” she breathed out.
Chives said, “No.”
“Shit,” Xion said sharply and whirled away from the bookshelf. “Something’s
wrong. Call the police.”
Then, she hung up, shoved her phone into her pocket, and beckoned Roxas with
her free hand. He followed quickly, staying so close that he was nearly her
shadow. His face was as pale as snow and his blue eyes were abyssal. He
probably knew exactly what could be happening to Axel, but Xion didn’t dare
ask. She didn’t want to know.
…
The Organization’s cabin was so unassuming and quaint on the outside that it
made Axel nauseous to think about the horrors that lurked behind those lacy
curtains and delicate masonry. He crept through the snow, gripping the golf
club he had brought tightly. His ribs ached with each breath, but that pain
wasn’t going to stop him now. If the Organization was willing to mutilate and
torture a poor boy like Roxas, what would they do to an innocent creature like
Cleo?
Axel sneaked around the perimeter, peeping in windows and looking under
flowerpots. The cabin was quiet and still. The television was dark, the lamps
were extinguished, the radio was silent, the refrigerator hummed softly. Axel
decided that if more than two members had been present, there would be more
signs of life. Deciding to risk it, Axel circled back to the front door and
turned the knob. It was locked.
Stifling a curse, Axel scoured the porch for any obvious hiding places for a
spare key. He groped around the doorframe, lifted the snowy welcome mat, and
stepped cautiously to locate loose floorboards. There was nothing and no sign
of a key either. Grumbling under his breath, Axel tried the knob again as if it
might have miraculously unlocked itself. It hadn’t.
Suddenly, Axel wished he had brought a tire iron instead of a golf club. He
restrained his irritation long enough to think logically and walked around the
cabin again, counting off windows until he reached the back door. The back door
was locked as well, but Axel wasn’t yet perturbed. It wasn’t summer so it
wasn’t as if the windows were wide open, but maybe one was unlocked anyway. He
tried all the windows on the first floor and did find one that slid open when
he pushed.
Axel slid the golf club inside first and then crammed his entire body in after
it. His shoulders and hips caught on the frame, but a little creative wiggling
allowed him to pour himself into the cabin. His butt got embarrassingly stuck
and Axel promised himself that he would go to the gym and lose a few pounds as
soon as he rescued Cleo. Finally, he spilled in a heap inside the
Organization’s cabin and spent a moment whimpering in agony. His ribcage
throbbed and every breath felt like a handful of broken glass rattling around
in his lungs.
He dragged himself to his feet, closed the window, unlocked the front door in
case he needed to make a quick getaway, and then crept through the house like a
misplaced shadow.
Axel peered into every room, but found each to be emptier than the last.
Several looked like they had been tossed. Empty drawers were hanging open, the
blankets had been pulled off the bed, and the closet spilled a few articles of
torture like organs. These rooms had been hastily packed, Axel realized. It
looked like several members of the Organization had fled after Axel’s first
rain on them. He wondered which one had been stupid enough to attack him a
second time.
Axel adjusted his grip on the golf club and looked into the only room that
still had clothing in it. A single lamp glowed on the nightstand, playing on
the glossy surface of a single leather whip. The bed was neatly-made and the
drawers were still full of clothes, but there was no sign of Cleo. Axel quickly
rummaged through the nightstand, searching for some sign of who remained in the
cabin. He found nothing but a small scrapbook of newspaper articles with
headlines about fires.
There was a loud sound in the cabin.
Axel quickly snapped the book shut and ducked behind the bed, listening with
every fiber of his being. He heard footsteps moving silently through the house.
Then, the television turned on and everything stilled. Axel rose from his
hiding place, crept to the doorway, and peered around the threshold. He could
just make out a head of silver hair sitting in front of the couch, illuminated
by the glow of the television. Axel gripped the golf club a little tighter and
slithered along the wall until he was could see the whites of the man’s eyes.
He crouched behind the couch and then snapped up in one quick movement. He
jammed the shaft of the club under the man’s chin and pulled back sharply,
cutting off his air and demanding his attention. The silver-haired man chuckled
low in his throat even as Axel drove the shaft into his windpipe further.
“I wondered if you’d come for the little pet,” the man remarked.
Axel snarled, “Where is she?”
The man waved his hand vaguely, but Axel took that to mean that Cleo was
somewhere in the house.
“Why are you after Roxas?” he demanded instead.
The man laughed. Then, the barrel of a gun was leveled at Axel’s face. “You’d
do well to step back,” the man said. “I’m not as stupid as my comrades and I
don’t mind shooting you. If it means getting to Roxas, I’ll burn the entire
world to the ground and dig him from the ashes.”
Helpless, Axel stepped away, but didn’t relinquish his grip on the golf club
just yet.
The man rose from the couch and turned to face Axel without ever letting the
sights of his gun waver. His golden eyes were like doubloons of sunken
treasure, shining through the dark madness that lined his face. His silver hair
spiked wildly on the sides and in the back. His mouth was turned down in a
determined cruel smile.
“Why do you want Roxas so badly?” Axel asked. His blood ran cold. “What did he
ever do to you?”
“He was born,” the man said coldly.
Axel swallowed thickly.
“I’ll have him,” the man continued, “and I’ll make him pay for everything his
grandfather ever did. I’ll rip the payment from the marrow of his bones, tear
it from his eyes and hair, flay it from his skin, rend it from his core until
there’s nothing left of him but my retribution.”
Axel took a tremulous step backwards. He had never felt fear like this before.
This man’s aura of rage and hatred filled the small cabin until there was
nothing left. It felt as if all the air was being sucked out, leaving Axel
gasping and reminded of the spearing agony behind his broken ribs.
“Why?” Axel breathed out.
The man’s golden eyes fell on him like a physical touch and it was harder than
any slap could ever have been. “Because of his grandfather,” the man said as if
that answered everything.
Then, there was a single loud report from the revolver in his hand. The muzzle
bucked and there was a blinding flash of light and noise. For a moment, Axel
though the shot had been only a warning. Then, the pain followed like infection
rushing into a wound. His vision blurred and then went black.
…
Chives was seated on the couch in the living room enjoying the peace and quiet
after everything that had happened. He was enjoying a cup of hot coffee and a
good book. He was trying not to look at the clock, trying not to think about
how much time had passed since he had last heard from Axel, trying not to
entertain horrified fantasies about what could have happened to the redhead.
The butler told himself that Axel was caught in traffic, that the snow had
piled up and he was merely delayed, that he was right in the middle of rescuing
Cleo and would call any minute now. Chives tried not to watch the clock as ten
minutes stretched into twenty. He stared at the words on the page before him,
but they swam like minnows through dark water.
Chives rose from the couch to refill his mug with fresh coffee. He added too
much cream as he stared at the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes had stretched
into thirty and the second hand ticked incessantly like the fingers of a ghost
demanding to be let inside. Chives told himself that Axel was victorious and
that he was driving home now, but he didn’t believe it.
The butler stoked the fire in the living room, enjoying the heat that wafted
from the hearth. He told himself that Axel had stopped for coffee and that he
would call any minute now, apologizing, and Chives would scold him. He stared
at the flames, trying not to recall Roxas’s naked body being violated here by
Luxord. He glanced at the clock and quickly at the phone.
The phone lay silent as the clock ticked on and on. Half an hour stretched into
forty-five minutes and still Axel did not call. The silence began to pound like
a heartbeat, echoing in the butler’s mind until he couldn’t take it any longer.
He picked up the phone and called Axel. For a long time, it rang and rang and
rang.
Chives told himself that Axel would answer, but he never did. The machine
picked up and read out its usual song and dance. Chives didn’t leave a message.
He tried to tell himself that Axel must have gotten a speeding ticket and
couldn’t answer while the cop was there. Certainly, Axel would call as soon as
he was finished grumbling about speed limits.
The butler waited, staring at the phone and then at the clock. Ten more minutes
passed and the phone remained silent. Plausibly reasons began to leave Chives’s
thoughts. He knew in his heart that something had gone horribly wrong. Axel was
in trouble. Chives refused to let himself think that Axel might be dead.
He grabbed the phone, called Axel again, and only got the machine. With his
heart racing, he called Xion instead.
She answered in a whisper, “Yeah?”
“Have you heard from Axel in the last hour?” Chives asked.
There was the sound of shuffling papers. “What time is it, Chives?” she asked.
“Almost one,” he told her.
Silence hung like an iron curtain between them.
“Are you saying,” Xion began, “that you haven’t heard from Axel either?”
Chives said, “No.”
“Shit,” Xion said sharply. “Something’s wrong. Call the police.”
Chives nodded even as he hung up. He didn’t fumble as he dialed the emergency
line. His hands were surer and steadier than he felt inside. As he gave them
the address, his voice didn’t shake either. Then, he returned to staring at the
clock. A full hour and ten minutes had passed since he had last heard from
Axel. Like Xion, he knew something was wrong. He could only hope that it wasn’t
too late.
…
It was dark and it was freezing. Axel’s arms were twisted behind his back,
pulling painfully on his shattered ribcage, and he could feel the cold circles
of shackles. His heart pounded and then he became aware of the slow trickle of
hot blood rolling down his chest. He tried to move, tried to get up, tried to
seen through the darkness, but his only answer was searing pain. He remembered
the flash of the gun, the scorching scent of gunpowder, and the white-hot
agony.
“Fuck,” he let himself say.
He managed to roll onto his stomach and pressed his chin into the concrete to
steady himself. Something wet and sticky came away on his skin. His first
thought was that this was the place where the Organization had kept Roxas, but
shouldn’t semen have dried by now? Then, he realized he was lying in a pool of
blood—his own blood. His heart pounded, sending waves of pain through his chest
and he struggled to inhale.
The gunshot, the blood, the pain, the darkness…
“Am I dead?” he asked aloud. His voice echoed back to him in the dimness of the
room.
Axel tried to drag himself onto his knees, but his body was too weak. His
muscles sagged uselessly and his breath came in a rasping gasp. Pain roared
through his chest and blackness closed in at the edges of his vision. He fought
at the darkness even though his body wanted nothing more than to give in. He
imagined himself beating it back with both hands—struggling, gasping,
breathing.
In his pocket, his phone began to ring. The sound drew him back like the cord
to his soul.
Axel tried to pull his hands down beneath his legs so he could get them in
front of him and therefore answer his phone. It was probably Xion and might
even be Chives, both calling to check on him. Damn, did he ever need them to
check on him right now. Their concern might be the only thing that saved his
life right now.
The puddle of blood beneath his body glinted in the faint light. Blood… There
was so much blood…
The phone ceased ringing and the silence closed around Axel like the lid on a
coffin. He struggled, welcoming even the pain that speared through his body. At
least that meant he was still alive. This hurt too much to be death. He
strained against the shackles until darkness crept into the edges of his
vision.
He paused, breathing hard through the haze of pain and blood and darkness. He
shivered. The only points of warmth on his body were the places in his chest
where endless pain and blood came pouring out. Damn, that psycho had shot him.
He still couldn’t believe it.
His phone started ringing again, so loud in the silence.
Axel lay still and listened to it, trying to focus on the notes of the strange
music. He imagined Xion calling him. By now, she was probably in her car,
driving as if she could get here before the police or the National Guard. Axel
spared a moment to pray that she didn’t come here. If that psycho had shot Axel
and brutalized Roxas, only god knew what he could do to a sweet girl like Xion.
The phone went silent again. The dark stillness closed in around Axel. It was
quiet, so quiet, too quiet.
“Cleo?” Axel rasped out. “Cleo… here girl…”
Where was Cleo? Where was that psycho with a handgun? Axel turned his head,
peering through the shadowed room. He could make out the shape of the soiled
bed where he had found the Organization raping Roxas, but that appeared to be
the only furniture in the room. Again, Axel tried to get up, but his body was
even weaker now. His strength was pouring out along with the blood, each pump
of his heart rending away layer after layer of the life that remained.
Axel sucked in a breath, wheezing. Where was that psycho who had shot him? Was
he still in the little cabin, lurking like a nightmare? Was he somewhere in
this shadowed room with Axel, watching the life bleed out of him? Had he left
to go after Roxas? Where could he be?
His phone rang again. Axel listened to the tones, trying to focus on breathing
through the agony in his chest.
The phone fell silent and then immediately started ringing again. He could
imagine Xion leaning over the steering wheel, pressing redial repeatedly. He
wondered if Roxas was with her, safe. He wondered if Roxas was worried about
him.
A moment of silence reigned before Axel’s phone began ringing again.
Upstairs, there was a loud pounding noise and someone shouted something. Axel
tried to answer, tried to call out, but his voice came out a weak croak. He lay
still, breathing wetly. Darkness clutched at the edges of his vision greedily.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the small cabin. Footsteps raged on the
floorboards overhead, mingled with shouting.
“Here,” Axel tried to croak. His mouth tasted like blood and his veins burned
with pain. “I’m here.”
His phone was still ringing, drowning out the sound of his weak voice.
A door crashed open nearby and footsteps pounded down the stairs.
“Get the paramedics!” a familiar voice shouted. Then, someone in black was
kneeling at his side, pressing painfully to the wound in his chest. “Now!”
“H-here,” Axel whispered.
His phone was still ringing and Axel felt someone remove it from his pocket.
Even through the haze of darkness clouding his mind, Axel recognized Xion’s
number. The little screen shone in the dark, illuminating a familiar face as
the plainclothes officer answered the cell phone.
“Yeah, Xion,” Zack Fair said smoothly. “I’ve got him. He’s alive. Meet us at
that hospital.”
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** Aftershock: Hospital *****
Happy AkuRoku Day! (I was previously unaware that this holiday even existed,
but Stevie was kind enough to tell me about it. I figured that deserved an
update, even if I just updated yesterday.)
                                     X X X
Massive drifts of snow fenced in the hospital parking lot, but it was the
cleanest stretch of macadam that Xion had seen since this seemingly-endless
winter had begun. She pulled into the hospital parking lot ten minutes behind
the ambulance, her car lunging with sudden speed as the tires gripped the
pavement. She hastily parked, jumped out of the car, and hit the ground
running. Roxas was on her heels, but she couldn’t be certain it was out of
concern for Axel or just because he was afraid to be separated from her.
Together, they slammed through the revolving door and skidded wetly on the
shiny linoleum floor.
Xion spotted a flash of flame-red hair on a long gurney and bolted towards it,
shouting, “Axel!”
Zack Fair moved into her path seamlessly and gathered his twenty-one year old
daughter in his arms like a child. “Xion, Xion,” he said soothingly. “Take a
breath. You’ve done all you can. Now, it’s time for the doctors to do their
jobs.”
“Is he okay?” she gasped out, clinging to her father’s heavy jacket and trying
to peer around his large body. “What happened? Is he going to be alright?”
Zack pulled her away from the swinging Emergency Room doors and led her into
the waiting room nearby. He caught Roxas by the shoulder and drew both of them
close to the heat and strength of his body. “Listen to me, guys,” he said
gently. “Take a deep breath. Do you want some coffee?”
Xion sat down heavily in one of the hideous green chairs and stared up into her
father’s blue eyes. “Dad, just tell me,” she said. “The suspense will kill me
before the news does.”
Zack nudged Roxas to sit down beside Xion and then crouched to be eye-level
with both of them. He took Xion’s hands and rubbed then gingerly. “Axel was
shot,” he said without preamble. “I’m not sure he’ll make it. It took us a long
time to find Axel so it’s going to be close. I only found him because I could
hear his phone ringing.”
“I was calling him,” Xion said thinly. Her caramel-colored skin was pale and
her eyes were like glass marbles.
Zack put his hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. “I know you were,” he
said. “Axel’s lost a lot of blood—”
“I’ll donate some blood,” she interrupted. “Type O.”
Zack nodded, smiled softly, and tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind
Xion’s ear. “I knew you would.”
“Did you find whoever shot him?” Xion asked. “The Organization?”
Roxas swallowed nervously, his eyes darting between Xion and her father.
Zack shook his head. “No, the cabin was empty when we arrived,” he murmured.
“Oh,” Xion whispered.
“Let’s get you to donate some blood so the doctors can save Axel’s life and
we’ll talk more later. Okay?”
Xion nodded and let her father pull her to her feet, guiding her through the
motions that would save the life of her best friend. Things seemed to happen in
a blur after that. Roxas followed like a small fish caught in the wake of a
cruise liner, terrified to lose sight of Xion or her father. The next thing he
knew, Xion was sitting in a small room with a needle in her vein with her
bright red blood pouring into a plastic bag. She had mostly come out of shock
and her eyes were bright with focus.
Zack pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Are you going to be okay now?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I’ll call you in a little while to see how everything is going, but I have to
get moving,” Zack explained as he stroked back her dark hair lovingly. “I was
on surveillance when I heard the call come in about Axel. I kind of left my
partner high and dry.”
“I understand,” she said. “I’m going to stay here and wait for Axel to come out
of surgery.”
“What about the kids?” Zack asked. “They’ll be out of school in a few hours. I
don’t want them home alone if there’s some kind of psycho on the loose.”
“Chives is going to stay with them until Mom gets home,” she explained. “He’s
not a ninja, but he can operate a phone to call the cops if something happens.
Plus, he’ll probably clean the house.”
“Alright,” Zack said and then turned his bright blue gaze to Roxas. “Do you
want me to drop you off back at home or do you want to stay here with Xion and
wait for Axel to come out of surgery?”
“I’ll stay here,” Roxas murmured.
“Alright.” Zack ruffled the boy’s blonde hair affectionately. “I’ll talk to you
kids soon. Call your mother and tell her what happened, Xion.”
“Sure thing,” Xion said.
Then, Zack lifted the collar of his heavy winter coat and was gone. Roxas and
Xion sat in silence for a while, listening to the distant activity of the
hospital and the steady drip-drip of Xion’s blood filling the donation bag. A
pleasant-faced nurse came to change the blood bag, but was gone before Xion
could ask about Axel. She slumped back in her seat with a sigh.
“You should drink that,” Roxas murmured finally and gestured to the small
carton of orange juice the nurse had given Xion. “Losing blood can make you
really lightheaded…” He hoped she wouldn’t ask how he had come to know that and
thankfully she didn’t.
Xion opened the carton and took a sip. “I’m glad you’re here, Roxas,” she said
softly. “I wouldn’t want to be in the hospital alone.”
Roxas came a little closer and sat down timidly beside Xion. She reached over
and took his hand, holding it tightly. Her fingers were cold and Roxas
enveloped them between his palms, rubbing gently. For a long moment, they sat
together in silence. Somewhere in the hospital, a life-giving machine was
beeping in time with their heartbeats.
A few minutes later, the nice nurse returned to remove the needle and paste a
band-aid over the vein at Xion’s elbow. “Be sure to drink your juice and eat
your cookies,” she said and turned to leave with the two bags of still-warm
blood in her hands.
Xion asked hastily before she could leave, “How’s Axel?”
“He needs this blood,” was all the nurse said. She left quickly, her sterilized
nonslip shoes squeaking hurriedly on the linoleum floor.
“What now?” Roxas asked Xion.
“We wait,” she said with a deep sigh and pressed her fingers to the wad of
gauze at her elbow. “We just have to wait.” She heaved herself out of the seat
and wobbled unsteadily for a moment before managing to regain her footing.
“Come on,” she said to Roxas. “Let’s go back to the waiting room.”
He nodded and followed her down the shiny white hallways. Together, they sat in
the hideous waiting room. Roxas watched the nurses, doctors, and patients
scurry back and forth with interest. Xion was still and quiet beside him,
holding his hand warmly, shivering even in her winter coat. Roxas took his off
and gently draped it over her. She peered at him through her lashes, smiled
weakly, and snuggled beneath the heavy jacket.
“This smells like Axel,” she murmured.
“He gave it to me for Christmas,” Roxas told her.
Her lips thinned as she pressed them together. “I hope Axel will be alright,”
she whispered and then a single tear slid down her cheek.
Roxas didn’t want to admit that he felt the same way. Axel was his master—a
strange kind master, but a master nonetheless. A little voice in the back of
Roxas’s head insisted that Axel could never really be kind to him, could never
really keep all his pretty promises, could never really be trusted, but…
Roxas’s heart didn’t agree. He was worried for Axel. He hoped that Axel would
be all right. He tried not to think about what would happen to him if Axel
died.
…
Xion drifted into a troubled and exhausted sleep soon after that. She slumped
against Roxas’s shoulder, gripping his hand and breathing raggedly in the
throes of nightmares. Occasionally, Roxas pulled his coat further up her body,
tucking it around her as gently as he could.
Then, the pleasant-faced nurse rushed over to them. Her eyes were wild and
there was blood on her pink scrubs. “Miss, wake up!” she said urgently.
Xion woke sharply and immediately paled. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“We’re losing him,” she said quickly. “We need more blood. We’ve already used
everything we had in reserve and the blood you gave us.”
“Is it safe for me to donate more?” Xion asked.
The nurse wet her lips. “You can donate another pint. It might be enough.”
“Yes,” Xion said quickly. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
The nurse ushered Roxas and Xion down the hall, quickly got together the tubing
and needle, and rigged Xion up. The nurse turned to Roxas. “Do you know your
blood type?” she asked him.
Roxas shook his head.
“Well,” the nurse said pensively as she watched Xion’s blood fill the bag.
“Thirty-seven percent of the population has type O blood and thirty-three
percent has A positive. Since O is a universal donor and Axel Inferno is A pos,
there’s a pretty good chance you’ll be able to help him. Will you donate some
blood, honey?”
Roxas was already nodding.
“I’ll grab a blood typing kit,” the nurse said. “Sit here and wait for me.”
When the nurse returned, she pricked Roxas’s finger and dripped a sample of
blood into the four testing fields. Even if the pain barely registered, Roxas
looked sharply away from the sight of his own blood. The three of them waited
for the test to cure and clump.
“A pos,” the nurse breathed out. “You’re a match for him.”
Then, the nurse slid a needle into his vein just like Xion. Roxas swallowed and
glanced at the bag slowly filling with his blood.
The nurse darted to Xion’s side, removed the needle, put a bandage over her
other elbow, and sealed the bag of blood. She turned back to Roxas, kinked the
tubing, hooked it up to a fresh bag, and scurried away with the two bags she
had already collected.
Xion reached across the space between them and gave Roxas’s hand a comforting
squeeze. Though her grip was weak, Roxas was grateful for it.
He didn’t say anything, just stared at the blood flowing into the bag. He could
hardly believe what he was doing. He was giving up his blood, all that was left
pure in his body, for the sake of his master. He had barely even thought about
the consequences of his actions. What would his master think if he survived to
learn that the blood of a filthy slave now flowed in his veins? Would he beat
Roxas? Would he rape him? Cold sweat broke out on the back of Roxas’s neck and
his heart skipped a beat.
Xion tugged Roxas’s hand lightly and he looked over at her with wide eyes.
“He’ll be grateful,” she whispered. “Axel will be.”
Roxas swallowed, uncertain if he had spoken aloud or if his emotions had been
portrayed so obviously on his face.
Her eyelids fluttered and she smiled weakly. “I feel pretty lightheaded,” she
murmured.
“Drink your juice,” Roxas told her and pressed the cold wet carton into her
hands.
She sipped it halfheartedly until the nurse returned to take the final bag of
Roxas’s blood and paste a bandage over his elbow. “Is Axel going to be
alright?” she asked for what felt like the hundredth time. “Is he okay?”
The nurse didn’t tell Xion anything except, “He needs this blood.” Then, she
was gone.
Roxas and Xion finished their juice in silence and then made their way back to
the waiting room. Xion’s cell phone rang and she spoke to her father for
several long minutes, telling him about the blood and what little she knew of
Axel. Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t start crying.
The sun began to set in a brilliant array of reds, pinks, and oranges. The
color glinted off the perfect white canvas of the snowy surroundings, but it
looked more like blood. Roxas forced away the memories of his blood smearing on
white sheets, of his white skin slashed and whipped until blood blossomed, of
blood and semen mingled between his violated thighs and spread legs. He forced
himself to think of his veins, of his master’s red hair, of the blood he had
given to save a life.
Roxas pressed his fingers over the bandage on his elbow and stared at it as the
sun sank beyond the horizon. His heart pounded like a drum in his chest and
throbbed against the cage of his ribs. All he let himself think about was
Axel’s smile, his pretty promises, the way he embraced Roxas whenever something
went wrong. Roxas wet his lips and couldn’t help thinking that no matter what
it cost him, he wanted to try to save Axel’s life.
…
When the Gainsborough-Fair household descended on the hospital with Chives in
tow, night had fallen beyond the spotlessly-clean windows of the hospital. The
sky was a beautiful woman dressed in a blue-black velvet gown, stars speckled
along her dress as diamonds. Her hair was made of frosty clouds, wispy around
the pale beautiful moon of her face. She was a watchful guardian, a merciful
goddess, a loving mother.
Aerith immediately wrapped Xion in her embrace and held her daughter tightly
for a long moment while all the children crowded around. Chives went to Roxas
and checked him over, smoothing back his blonde tresses and scrutinizing him as
if he was the one that had been injured. Then, the two of them switched. Roxas
found himself swathed in Aerith’s warm flower-scented arms. She stroked his
hair, whispering mindless words of relief and assurance. Chives hugged Xion
tightly and then straightened her clothes.
Xion spent a long minute assuring her brothers and sisters that she was okay.
Then, she told her family and Chives everything she knew about Axel. “Roxas and
I have both donated all the blood that we can,” she continued. “It’s all
dependent on the doctors now.”
Aerith nodded and stepped beneath the shelter of Zack’s arm. “I’m glad you’re
alright, Xion. I was worried that you’d be here—”
“Wrecking the place,” Zack put in to save his wife the trouble. “We know how
you are in hospitals.”
Xion’s skin was caught between a flush of shame, pale with worry, and sickly
green with whatever memories that came flooding back to her now. “I’m fine,”
she said shortly. “Roxas has been with me the whole time.”
Aerith nodded gratefully to Roxas.
“So, do you think Luxord is going to come down to see his son?” Zack asked
suddenly.
All the blood drained out of Roxas’s face.
Xion’s lips pulled back over her teeth in an irritated sneer. She was the only
one who knew about what Luxord had done to Roxas and that Axel had thrown his
own father out on Christmas morning or that Luxord had joined the Organization
and Axel had beaten him up. “Why would he?”
Zack lifted a brow and Aerith asked, “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
Xion realized that she had inadvertently put her foot into her mouth. Quickly,
she explained as simply as she could what Axel and his father had been through
ever since he had bought Roxas. When she finished, Aerith’s face was pale and
Zack’s was lined with disbelief. Xion nodded and took a deep breath.
“The hospital probably called him,” Zack said. “They have to notify next-of-kin
if they can. You’re telling me that you haven’t seen Luxord come in to see his
son?”
Xion shook her head and then confessed, “I did fall asleep for a little while.”
Zack turned to Roxas. “Did you see Luxord?”
Roxas shook his head.
“I wonder if something happened to him,” Zack murmured. “If he got involved
with this Organization… I can’t imagine he’d want his own son dead, especially
over a slave—no offence, Roxas—so maybe he was taken out of the picture by
whomever shot Axel.”
Xion hadn’t thought of that. She pressed her fingers to her mouth in shock and
horror. Sure, she didn’t like Luxord and she probably never would, but that
didn’t mean she wanted the bastard dead. She knew Axel’s father meant a lot to
him and she wouldn’t want her friend to lose his father. “Do you really think
so?” she breathed out.
Zack rolled his shoulders, noncommittal, but Xion could see that he had his cop
face on. “I’ll talk to a couple nurses,” he said, “and make a few calls to see
what I can find out.” Then, he pressed a quick kiss to Aerith’s cheek and
walked away.
The swinging doors opened and a pale-haired doctor stepped out. As it had all
afternoon, Xion’s head snapped in his direction. The doctor came towards her
and scrutinized the small army of children that had invaded his waiting room.
Apparently deciding that they weren’t in need of his help, he turned his
attention back to Xion and said, “You came in with Axel Inferno, right?”
Xion nodded. “Yes,” she said. Then, because she owed it to Axel, she asked,
“Were you able to contact his father, Luxord Inferno?”
The doctor shook his head.
“How’s Axel?” Xion asked.
“He’s out of the woods,” the doctor told her. “We managed to stop the bleeding,
repair the artery, and remove the bullet. He should recover just fine.”
“Is he awake? Can we see him?” she continued.
The doctor eyed the small army of noisy children. “He really needs to rest,” he
began.
Xion’s eyes welled with crocodile tears. “Please,” she begged.
“Alright,” the doctor relented, “but just for a few minutes and just you and
the boy.” He pointed sternly at Roxas. “Axel Inferno is in room 138.”
Roxas shrank back beneath the doctor’s stern glower, but Xion closed her
fingers around his hand. She guided him down the hallway before he could even
think of a reason why he shouldn’t see his injured master. The bandage over his
elbow suddenly felt like a searing brand. He almost stopped, almost turned and
ran all the way back to the waiting room where Xion’s family remained, almost
bolted like a frightened rabbit. However, the moment passed too quickly for
escape. The next thing he knew, Xion had pushed open the door and they were
inside Axel’s hospital room.
                                     X X X
Oh, I know! It’s such a cruel cliffhanger!
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Light in the Darkness *****
Phew, super long chapter.
                                     X X X
The room was a void of whiteness, like a field of snow or a bank of clouds, lit
only by the pale green glow of the heart monitor beeping absently beside the
bed. Axel was painfully out-of-place and colorful in the blizzard of pale
sheets and walls. His flame-red hair and emerald-green eyes glowed as if lit
from the inside. Again, Roxas thought of his own blood on white sheets and pale
skin, but he pushed those thoughts into the dark recesses of his mind.
Axel looked so small and thin, lying on the bed with his chest in a cage of
wires, tubes, and sensors. An IV dripped endlessly into his arm, pouring in
lifesaving fluids and precious painkillers. The blankets pressed against his
long thin legs, hugged his slender hips, and clung to the narrow curve of his
ribs. His collarbones stood out sharply and his shoulders looked like the
skulls of birds. For a moment, Roxas saw himself lying there.
How many times had he been hurt so badly? Yet he had never been cared for like
this. No one would ever have given their blood to save his life. No one would
have cared if he died and he wouldn’t have minded either. Now, though, he found
himself wondering if Axel would donate blood to save Roxas. Axel had been
prepared to take Cloud to a hospital, but the older man was too far gone to be
saved. Maybe, Axel really was a kind and wonderful person…
Xion closed the space between them so quickly it was as if it was physically
hurting her. She immediately clasped Axel’s hand between her own, assuring
herself of the heat beneath his skin and the pulse of life in his veins.
“Axel,” she breathed out. A single tear tracked down her cheek and she wiped it
hastily away.
Axel gazed at her sleepily and then smiled slowly. “Xion, hey,” he murmured.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “What about you? Are you all right? Are you in pain?”
He shook his head slowly and then winced slightly. “I don’t know,” he
whispered. “Some jerk… shot me…”
“I know,” Xion said and squeezed his hand tightly. “We almost lost you. Roxas
and I donated so much blood.”
Axel’s eyes brightened slightly. “Roxas…? Roxas is… with you?”
Xion nodded and gestured for Roxas to come closer to the bed. “Yeah, he’s
here,” she said. “He’s been with me the whole time.”
“Good, good…” Axel murmured. His eyes slid closed and then opened again.
“Roxas, come… please, come here…”
Despite himself and his racing heartbeat, Roxas moved towards the bed and stood
beside Xion nervously. Axel reached out lamely, the tube and monitor attached
to his hand prevented him from going far, so Roxas stepped a little closer and
gently took Axel’s hand. Weakly, Axel squeezed his fingers and smiled absently.
“Hi,” Roxas whispered.
“I’m glad,” Axel murmured.
Xion wiped another tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “You just
rest, Axel. I’ll take care of Roxas until you’re better,” she assured her
friend. “I’ll take care of everything. You just focus on getting better. Okay?”
Axel nodded slowly, sleepily, dreamily. “Roxas,” he murmured. “Before you… go…
tell me a story.”
Roxas swallowed nervously. “I don’t know any,” he confessed.
Axel shook his head slowly and grinned lamely. “Just… make one up,” he
murmured. “I don’t care.”
“But…” Roxas glanced nervously at Xion, but she offered him a reassuring smile
and gestured for him to go ahead. “Okay,” he whispered finally.
Axel stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes, still smiling.
“Once upon a time,” Xion supplied after a small moment and enfolded Axel’s hand
in her own.
“Once upon a time,” Roxas repeated and took a deep breath to steady his nerves.
“There was a soldier who left his loved one to go to war. He promised to come
back to her, but… that’s not the sort of thing you can promise. Even so, he did
everything he could to survive for her and he managed to, but… As he was
returning home, there was a blizzard. He found himself lost in the snow.”
Xion gingerly touched Roxas’s elbow, as if to remind him that Axel was lying
shot in a hospital blood with their blood filling his veins, but Roxas had
never been more aware of death than he was at this exact moment. His eyes
burned as he stared down at Axel’s pale face, at his flaming hair, at his green
eyes ringed with shadows.
“The soldier walked through the snow, losing more and more heart with each
step. Then, he saw a pair of herons. The birds were in love, perched on the
highest branch of a tall pine, together. The soldier flew into a rage. Why
could birds be together when he and his loved one could not? He shot down one
of the herons and then continued. He would get back to her, no matter what.”
Roxas continued, “A few days later, the soldier stumbled upon the body of the
heron he had killed before. He had been wandering in circles. He was no closer
to his love. Fate was laughing at him, punishing him, torturing him. The
soldier noticed that the heron’s head was gone. Was death mocking him as well
as fate? The soldier collapsed in the snow and cried.”
“A time later, the soldier opened his eyes to the sight of a beautiful woman in
white. She was wearing a kimono and there were feathers in her white hair. She
looked… so sad. She cradled something in her arms, something so precious… The
soldier gazed at her, wondering if she was the angel of death. Could the death
be so beautiful? With one white hand, she pointed.”
“The solider looked into the woman’s arms and saw that she carried a pale
skull. Shock and pain welled up in his chest like a wound. His heart throbbed,
beating in time with his aching feet and fingers. He thought of his loved one.
Would she hold his skull so dearly? What if he returned to her as only a skull?
Still, the beautiful woman in white pointed, cradling the skull.”
“The soldier rose from the snow and went in the direction that she pointed. Was
she leading him towards death or salvation? Even so, he walked and left the
beautiful woman behind in the snow. The soldier told himself that he would walk
until he made it home to his loved one. He would eat flesh, he would hunt, he
would walk through the snow… He would do it all to return to her.”
“Days or hours later, the soldier spotted a heron in the sky. He drew his bow,
anchored it, and fired. The heron fell, blood staining the pristine white snow.
The soldier descended upon the white bird and paused, wondering what had become
of the mate of the heron he had shot before. He held the heron’s body in his
hands and realized there was something tucked beneath the bird’s wing.”
“A heron’s skull, he realized with shock. Tears filled his eyes. This bird had
been carrying the bones of its loved ones all this time. Immediately, the
soldier thought of the woman in white who had guided him only hours before. She
had carried a precious skull as well. The heron and the woman were the same.”
“Weak with emotion, the soldier walked through the snow and suddenly saw the
lights of the small village at the foot of the mountain. He was saved. He would
see his loved one again. ‘I killed your loved one and yet you saved me,’ the
soldier sobbed. He carried the bird with him, hurrying back to his loved one.”
(1)
Silence followed in the wake of Roxas’s story.
Axel gazed up at him sleepily through heavy-lidded green eyes. “That was nice,
Roxas, but sad,” he murmured.
“Where did you hear a story like that, Roxas?” Xion asked, rubbing her fingers
over Axel’s knuckles.
Roxas wet his lips nervously. “An old master used to tell it to me, but it
usually had a different ending,” he confessed.
Xion caught his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, as if she might have known
the horrible ending a cruel master would add too such a sad tale.
There was a light knock on the door as the doctor returned. “Alright,” he said.
“I’ve made as much of an exception for you as I can. You have to go home now
and come back during regular visiting hours.”
Xion nodded, grateful for the time she and Roxas had gotten with Axel. It was
getting late and the day had been long. Besides, her family was probably
terrorizing the waiting room. “Sure,” she said and tugged Roxas’s hand lightly.
“Good night, Axel. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Axel tightened his grip on Roxas’s hand. “Do you have to go?”
Shards of Roxas’s heart wanted to say that he could stay, even if it wasn’t the
truth. He didn’t want to leave Axel, not now, not when he was so vulnerable and
hurt—not when he reminded Roxas so much of himself. He wanted to sit here all
night, holding Axel’s warm hand and listening to the steady beep-beep of his
heart monitor.
Before he could say anything, Xion interrupted gently, “Sorry, honey. We have
to go home, but we’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning. Okay, Axel?”
Axel nodded slowly. Then, his eyes slid closed and he was asleep within
minutes. His hold on Roxas’s hand loosened until Roxas could slide free. Xion
tucked Axel in, smoothing the covers over his legs and feet and giving his
pillow one final fluff. Somehow, that made it easier to leave him, but not by
much.
Roxas felt as if he was leaving part of himself behind as he left Axel there in
the hospital room.
…
After returning to the Gainsborough-Fair household, Xion bullied Roxas into
eating something, taking a hot shower, and then tucked him into bed like a
child. Then, she gathered her pajamas and was gone in the shower for a very
long time. Roxas was still lying awake on the air-mattress in her bedroom when
she came in, smelling of sweet peas and gardenias with her dark hair shiny and
damp. She didn’t notice that he was still awake and tiptoed quietly to her bed
to flop down on the cool sheets. She buried her face in her pillow and let out
a deep sigh.
“Xion?” Roxas ventured in the darkness.
She jolted and then rolled over in a noisy rustle of blankets. Her blue eyes
gleamed in the darkness as she reached to turn on the lamp on her nightstand.
“You’re still awake?” she asked even though it was obvious.
Roxas nodded and rolled to face her completely, still nestled under the
blankets. “Do you think Axel will be okay?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said with an even nod. “He’ll be fine. The doctors patched him up
nicely.”
“What…?” Roxas wet his lips. “What do you think happened?”
Xion tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “Well,” she murmured, “I don’t
really know. I know Axel went to the Organization’s cabin to go after Cleo, but
I can’t be sure how he came to get himself shot. He probably tried to do
something heroic.”
“Cleo wasn’t with Axel,” Roxas put in softly. “Do you think he found her?”
In that moment, Xion had never wanted to lie the way she did now as Roxas gazed
up at her hopefully, but her mother and father had taught her to always tell
the truth no matter how terrible it was. She slid out of her bed and sat on the
floor beside the poor boy. “Roxas,” she murmured. “I don’t think he did. If
someone would shoot Axel then—”
“What would that kind of person do to a puppy?” Roxas finished lamely.
Xion nodded slowly and gently touched his hand.
He didn’t pull away and gingerly wrapped his fingers around hers. “I should
have been there to protect her,” he whispered. “It’ll be my fault if something
happened to her.”
Xion ran her thumb over his knuckles. “No,” she told him gently. “You know
that’s not true. It’s no one’s fault except the bastard who took her from
Axel’s house.”
Roxas wet his lips nervously. “But,” he protested weakly.
Xion fixed him in place with her eyes. “Don’t think that,” she said. “You know
better than anyone else what the Organization would have done to you if you’d
been there.”
A shudder ran through Roxas’s body, rattling in his bones and teeth and
freezing his blood. He tightened his grip on her hand. “But Cleo,” he
whispered.
She hushed him. “We don’t know that anything bad has happened to her,” she said
honestly. “Maybe she managed to run away.” Xion didn’t mention Cloud or how
running had been the worst thing Cloud could have done.
Roxas must have seen the doubt on her face. He didn’t look like he believed her
and Xion couldn’t really blame him, but there was no definitive proof that
anything terrible had happened to the golden retriever puppy. She might really
be fine, even if Axel had been shot and nearly killed.
Then, Roxas whispered something that surprised Xion. He murmured very softly,
“Even if something did happen to Cleo, at least Axel’s okay…”
Xion’s eyes burned with tears as she nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed out. “At
least Axel’s alright.”
Then, Xion turned her bedside lamp off and rolled over onto her back. She
tucked her hands behind her head and gazed up at the ceiling. Moonlight played
on the thick snow, sending sparkling beams of light through the curtains and
across the ceiling. The night was beautiful, deep, and peaceful. Exhausted from
the long and stressful day, Xion quickly fell asleep. Roxas lay awake a little
while longer, gazing at the profile of Xion’s sleeping face and listening to
her even breathing. Then, he too slipped into slumber.
…
The floor was frigid and cold, rough on his burned and beaten skin, and Roxas
found himself missing the filthy soiled mattress that he was usually taken on.
Groaning, he tried to sit up, but his entire body trembled with pain and
starvation. The only thing inside his stomach right now was semen and blood. A
tear slipped down his cheek and he lowered himself back to the cold concrete
floor. His body was wracked with violent shivers and his teeth chattered
occasionally. God, he was so cold.
Distantly, he heard the door open and light footsteps crossed the space.
Someone stopped at his side and he felt them looking down on his nakedness like
a physical touch. Another tremor ran through his body and his fingers scraped
against the concrete as he tried to steel himself for the pain to come.
“Oh, little flower,” came a sweet gentle voice. “Poor pretty flower.”
The fear went out of Roxas like blood pouring from a wound. He turned his head
just enough to peer up at the man. “M-Master,” he whispered weakly.
The pink-haired man crouched down and gently brushed aside some of Roxas’s fair
hair to study the crop of fresh burns at his temple. “We’re alone,” he said
gently and pulled his hand away from the injury. “You can call me by name.”
A frail smile pulled at Roxas’s lips. “Marluxia,” he whispered.
Marluxia knelt down, gathered Roxas’s small naked body against his broad chest,
and lifted him gently from the floor. He pushed aside the soiled semen- and
blood-spattered sheets so he could lay Roxas down in a relatively clean portion
of the filthy bed. Roxas groaned quietly and shivered when he was released from
Marluxia’s warm arms. A moment later, Marluxia took off his dark jack and
swathed Roxas within it. Shivering gratefully, Roxas clutched it to his body.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Marluxia smiled lightly and reached to stroke the boy’s pale hair. “I brought
you some food, too. It’s not much,” he murmured as he pulled a small buttered
roll from within a paper napkin. It was still warm when Roxas eagerly accepted
it.
“Thank you,” Roxas repeated, “for everything.”
Marluxia inclined his head and sat down on the edge of the bed while Roxas ate
quietly. When he finished, Marluxia leaned over to gently touch Roxas’s face.
Repressing his fear to flinch and pull away, Roxas leaned gratefully into the
gentle touch.
“Xaldin burned you pretty badly, didn’t he?” Marluxia remarked.
Roxas nodded. A few old burns on his neck cracked painfully and began to bleed.
“I’m okay… now that you’re here,” he whispered shyly.
Marluxia smiled. His teeth were white and perfect. “I’ll see if I can bring you
some painkillers later. How’s everything else?”
Roxas averted his gaze. “Xemnas came to see me…” he murmured.
Marluxia gave his hand a comforting squeeze. “Did he hurt you badly?”
Roxas shook his head. “Not as bad as last time,” he confessed, “but it still
hurts. He… put those beads inside me… and left them.”
Marluxia gave Roxas a sympathetic and sorrowful smile, but didn’t offer to
remove them. Roxas couldn’t really blame him. While it was suicide for Roxas to
remove the beads from his body, it was dangerous for Marluxia as well. One
didn’t simply cross Xemnas and get away with it.
“I’d better go,” Marluxia said suddenly and tugged his warm jacket from Roxas’s
shoulders.
Immediately, the cold greedily clawed at Roxas’s skin and he fought back a bout
of chattering from his teeth. “Before you go,” Roxas ventured, “will you tell
me one of the Snow Goddess tales?”
“Maybe later,” Marluxia said and then he was gone.
The scent of flowers lingered in his wake, suffocating Roxas with their sweet
perfume. He curled up on the soiled mattress and stared at the tiny sliver of
sunlight that moved across the ceiling in a slow pattern. His body ached,
throbbed with fullness and use, but at least the ravenous hunger had abated a
little bit. Marluxia was kind, so kind…
At least he had been for several months.
The exact moment that Marluxia’s kindness ended was as sudden and painful as a
grenade going off. Roxas remembered as if the individual words had been carved
into his heart with a razor. It was agonizing and heartbreaking. Roxas didn’t
even remember what had happened afterwards. He was too broken, too bloody, too
betrayed.
This time, Xemnas had left Roxas strewn on the mattress with the shaft of a
large phallus rammed deep into his body. No matter which way Roxas tried to
lay, the pain was excruciating. It was too large and too deep. Tears leaked
slowly beneath his lids and he could only wait and pray that Marluxia would
come to see him, to take away some of this hurt, to be gentle and kind.
When the door opened, hope welled up like the light that spilled into the room.
Roxas rolled over and smiled weakly at his favorite trusted person. Marluxia
looked as he always did and smelled of wildflowers. He sat down on the bed
beside Roxas without speaking. For a long moment, he just gazed down at Roxas.
His fingers traced a light path from the cropping of bruises around Roxas’s
neck to the path of burns trailing down his shoulder to his wrist. Then, so
abruptly and suddenly that Roxas convinced himself it was only an accident,
Marluxia pressed his finger into a long gash that circled Roxas’s upper arm.
Roxas yelped and whimpered as hot blood rolled down his white skin. He stared
up at Marluxia and whispered, “That hurts… Vexen cut me…”
“I wonder,” Marluxia remarked, “why they get such a kick out of doing all this
to you?”
“I don’t know,” Roxas whispered and closed his eyes from the sight of his
beaten body. “I don’t know…”
“Xemnas says you deserve it,” Marluxia murmured. “Do you deserve this, Roxas?
Are you a bad person?” Then, he pinched Roxas’s swollen nipple between his
thumb and forefinger and rolled it slightly.
Roxas squirmed, whimpering, beneath the painful caress. “Don’t,” he pleaded.
“That hurts.”
Marluxia stroked the downward curve of his wounded mouth and said lightly, “You
have such a pretty face. Show me more of it.”
Then, he reached around Roxas to touch the phallus. He began to pull the thick
girth out and Roxas let out a breath of relief that lasted only a heartbeat.
Hard and fast, Marluxia pushed the phallus back into Roxas’s small body. His
muscles clenched painfully at the intrusion and the boy writhed against the
sheets.
Roxas cried out in anguish and surprise.
“Very pretty,” Marluxia said absently as he slid the phallus out again. “You’re
so much like a flower. Did you know flowers are nothing more than pretty sex
organs?” He rammed the phallus back into Roxas as deeply as it would go and
paused to listen to the boy’s unsteady gasping breath. “Maybe, that’s why they
like you for all your pretty sexy things.”
“It hurts. Stop, please,” Roxas gasped out. Tears rolled down his cheeks and
his eyes were squeezed shut. “Please, stop… Just take it out of me. That
hurts!”
But Marluxia didn’t. He continued thrusting the shaft in and out of Roxas’s
body as if he hadn’t heard.
“Please, Marluxia,” Roxas begged.
The blow was sudden and left his ears ringing.
Roxas whimpered and turned his face against the soiled sheets.
“Don’t call me by name,” Marluxia said coldly. “If you can’t be quiet, I’ll
just find a better use for your mouth.”
“No, please,” Roxas whispered. “Why…?”
Marluxia fumbled at the waistband of his pants. He lowered the zipper to reveal
flesh that was nothing like all the hardened shafts Roxas had been forced to
accept nor was it like the soft folds of the only woman Roxas had ever had to
taste. It was somewhere in the middle, strange and foreign. (2)
“I’m not a flower like you,” Marluxia muttered and gripped Roxas’s small
flaccid member tightly. “Not easy, not pretty, not even a flower…”
Roxas cried out and tried to pull free, but Marluxia’s grip only tightened.
“I want to see why they like you so much. Do you feel good inside or outside?
Maybe both?”
“Please, stop!” Roxas begged. “Don’t do this to me.”
Marluxia struck him again, harder, and Roxas’s mouth bloomed with blood.
“I said to shut up or I’d find good use for your mouth. Do for me like you do
for them,” Marluxia demanded. “Do it.”
Sobbing, breaking, Roxas opened his mouth, but there was no true shaft to
welcome inside. Though it was hard, there was wetness that he associated with
Larxene and women. Desperate to escape further punishment and pain, Roxas
licked and sucked as best he could. Though Marluxia groaned in pleasure, he
pulled away a moment later. He forced Roxas onto his hands and knees and slowly
pulled the phallus from Roxas’s body.
“I don’t have something like this,” Marluxia murmured as he compared the
phallus to his own strange genitals. “How do I take you?”
“Please,” Roxas begged. His fingers trembled and knotted in the dirty sheets.
“Please don’t. You’ve always been so kind to me. Whatever I did you upset you,
please, I’ll take it back. I’ll make up for everything, just please… don’t do
this to me.”
Marluxia slapped his backside and Roxas cried out.
“Guess I’ll just use my fingers,” Marluxia muttered and quickly pushed several
into the moist heat of Roxas’s quivering body. “Well, it does feel good.”
Roxas sobbed, trembling and shaking, as Marluxia violated his body with his
fingers. Marluxia’s free hand went down between his legs and though a few
fingers disappeared inside, the others stroked the hard little nub Roxas had
tasted earlier. Roxas looked away, burying his face into the filthy mattress.
He tried not to feel everything Marluxia was doing, but his fingers were so
long and thin. Every soft experimental stroke brushed over the little bundle of
nerves deep inside Roxas’s body.
He whimpered and couldn’t help the jolt of pleasure that ran through his body
and straight into his core. His small member began to harden, rising like a
fern seeking sunlight. Marluxia made a soft sound and continued thrusting and
stretching his fingers within Roxas’s body.
“Does it feel good, little flower?” Marluxia asked with a tenderness that made
Roxas ache for all the times this man had been so kind to him. “Do you like to
be fucked by me?”
Roxas didn’t answer. He just buried his face deeper into the foul-smelled
sheets and tried to focus on the pain of the burns on his arms and legs. His
knees were terribly bruised and this position wasn’t helping. Pain was
everywhere, filling and pressing in on him like black water.
Then, Marluxia gripped his member gently and began to stroke in time with the
thrusts of his fingers. Nothing could prepare Roxas for the wave of pleasure
that poured through his small body. He cried out sharply as the pleasure
crashed through him like a wave on a beach. Then, he crumpled on the bed and
could feel the warmth of his own seed against his skin. Shame welled in his
chest and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“I wonder,” Marluxia said lightly, “if I could put something like this inside
my body. You seemed to enjoy it plenty, little flower. Let me just see…”
Roxas didn’t dare open his eyes to see what Marluxia was doing. Gingerly,
Marluxia spread his cheeks and fit the phallus back into his small body. He
cried out, whimpering, as his muscles were stretched to their limits to
accommodate the girth of the large shaft. Tears rolled down his cheeks and
seeped into the soiled sheets.
“Hmm,” Marluxia murmured. “It looks like that hurts you. Maybe I shouldn’t try
it.”
Roxas shook his head weakly.
Silence fell between them, broken only by the soft wet sounds of quiet sex. A
moment later, Marluxia let out a satisfied breath and leaned back on the
mattress. “That was nice, little flower,” he murmured. “I guess I see why they
like you so much. And this is easier…”
Roxas didn’t answer, just breathed quietly into the filthy sheets. Though the
wonderful scent of flowers was all around him, the smell made him sick to his
stomach. How could Marluxia do this to him? How could he betray him, hurt him,
rape him just like all the others did? Roxas had thought that Marluxia was
different.
Marluxia rose from the bed and zipped his pants quietly. “Are you broken?” he
asked suddenly.
Roxas didn’t answer. He just sobbed quietly, tears trickling down his cheeks,
and kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see Marluxia, not now, not after
this.
“Hallelujah,” Marluxia remarked and then he slammed the door loudly.
…
Roxas woke with a start, his heart aching as if the betrayal had been carved
into him only moments ago, but no… He was still on the floor of Xion’s bedroom,
wrapped in clean blankets and dressed in cotton pajamas. Xion was sleeping
peacefully a few feet away and night still lingered beyond the curtains.
Quietly, Roxas got out of bed and eased open Xion’s bedroom door. He wandered
down the hallway, peering into the many doors at the children sleeping beyond.
Slowly, the vestiges of the terrible dream began to leave him. There was a dim
glow coming from the living room and he followed it gingerly.
Zack Fair was standing at the window, shirtless, and there was a long bright
scar covering most of his back.
A startled gasp escaped Roxas’s lips and he quickly clasped his hands over his
mouth, but it was too late. Zack turned sharply, his body like a coiled spring,
ready for an attack, but he relaxed when he recognized Roxas in the shadows.
The same scar that Roxas had seen on his back carried on to his chest, as if he
had been run through.
“Hey, what are you doing up?” Zack asked as he turned back to the window. The
moonlight played across his scar like a phantom hand. “Bad dream or just
couldn’t sleep?”
“Bad dream,” Roxas confessed before he could think about lying. His eyes were
fastened to the bright scar.
“Care to talk about it?” Zack asked lightly and waved his hand absently to
indicate Roxas could join him at the window.
The boy stepped quietly across the plush rug and peered out at the snowy
landscape beyond the glass. “No,” he murmured. “Thanks.”
Zack rolled his shoulders and the muscles of his back coiled. “Suit yourself,”
he said. “Sometimes, talking about it can help you let it go.”
“I think talking about it is what brought it back,” Roxas murmured, thinking of
the story he had told Axel in the hospital. Marluxia used to tell him that
story and it had been Roxas’s favorite, even if the soldier was usually led to
his death by the scorned heron-woman. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, no,” Zack said. “You’ve been through hell, Roxas. You can talk to us, or
Xion, or Axel. We’ll all listen to you, if you need it.”
Roxas wet his lips and murmured again, “Thanks.”
Zack patted him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go back to bed, Roxas? I have
everything under control here.”
“Do you think the Organization will come here for me?” Roxas choked out. “I can
leave. Maybe I should—”
“Shut up,” Zack said shortly and shook Roxas gently. “Don’t think like that.
Everything is under control and everyone is safe right now. I’m watching over
you so don’t worry.”
Roxas’s throat flashed as he swallowed. Then, he nodded nervously.
Zack smiled, patted his shoulder again, and gave him a nudge back down the
hallway. “Go back to bed, Roxas,” he said.
Roxas nodded and turned away, stepping into the deep shadows of the hall. Then,
he paused and listened to Zack’s footsteps on the rug as he padded back to the
window. He peeked around the corner of the hallway and stared at the shape of
Zack’s strong back for a long moment. Moonlight played on the bright snow, on
the bright scar, on the brightness that suddenly seemed to be everywhere in
Roxas’s life.
                                     X X X
(1) This story—that I did not do justice—is from the wonderful graphic novel,
“Snow Goddess Tales” by CLAMP. It’s the fourth chapter, ‘Hiyoku no Tori.’ It’s
incredibly beautiful and sad. Everyone should check it out (and have a tissue
while you read it)!
(2) Described here is intersexed genitalia. (Inspired by the manga, Nabari no
Ou, in which the best character Yoite is literally genderless.)
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Home is Where the Heart Is *****
God, I’ve been so busy at work…
                                     X X X
The next few days were warm and some of the snow began to melt, but they passed
in a slow monotony for Roxas and Xion. Each morning after Xion bundled all her
siblings off to school and saw her parents to work, she and Roxas drove to the
hospital where they spent the meager visiting hours with Axel. At first, Axel
had been too medicated to even hold a conversation with so Xion mostly played
solitaire on his lap. It was enough that they were close to him, she told
Roxas.
But as two days turned into four, Axel came out of his stupor and turned into a
crotchety old man. He was sick of being cooped up in the white room with only a
television to pass the time. He wanted to go home to his own bed and his
PlayStaton. He was sick of being dressed and bathed by nurses, prodded and
poked by doctors, tested by orderlies, and constantly irritated by the
remaining hospital staff. He couldn’t stand the smell of the disinfectant any
longer.
On the sixth day, Xion and Roxas arrived just as Axel hurled several pillows, a
bedpan, and a potted plant out of his room. A nurse in pink scrubs ran out of
the room, covering her head with her clipboard. Xion managed to catch the
innocent plant before it crashed to the floor and stepped over the rest of the
displaced objects.
“Axel!” she shouted. “What in unholy hell are you doing?”
“I’m ready to go home!” he yelled. “I’m sick of this place. I’m fine! Take me
home, Xion. Check me out, right now!” Axel threw back the covers fiercely and
staggered barefoot from the bed. “I’m sick of this place. I hate hospitals!”
While Xion wanted nothing more than to agree with him, she knew it was in
Axel’s best interest to stay in the hospital at least one more day. Being shot
was a serious thing. Although all the good the hospital stay was doing him was
probably voided by all his screaming and flailing…
Xion sighed, set down the plant, and jabbed her finger fiercely into Axel’s
chest. “Would you shut up and sit down?” she snapped. “I brought you a present,
but if you don’t quit acting like a child, you’re not going to get it!”
Growling, Axel sat down on the bed, crossed his arms, and glared at her
silently. “Well, what is it?”
“Nurse,” Xion said cheerfully, “Whatever you needed to do, you can probably do
it now.”
“That’s okay,” the nurse squeaked out. “I can come back later.” And with that,
she scurried away.
Xion slapped Axel in the shoulder. “Look what you’ve done. You make everyone
cry. You’re like a monster,” she berated him.
“I’m not a monster,” Axel protested. “She wanted to get me to—” He broke off
abruptly, flushing, and Xion thought about the bedpan that had been hurled into
the hallway.
Tactfully, she changed the subject by calling to Roxas. “Come on in,” she said.
“It’s safe now.”
Roxas was carrying their gift and he scooted nervously into the room. “Here,”
he said nervously.
Axel accepted the cloth bag and dug eagerly inside it to produce a Nintendo DS.
“This way,” Xion said flatly, “you can stop terrorizing nurses and play video
games like a good little boy.”
“I could have used this yesterday,” Axel grumbled as he turned it around in his
hands. “There was nothing on TV. I had to watch the Food Network and it sucked
since they wouldn’t let me eat anything other than Jello and soup.”
“Sorry,” Xion said as she pulled up a chair beside his bed. “It took me that
long to find it. I haven’t had occasion to play my DS in months.”
“Thanks,” Axel said and his voice was finally mellow and soft. “When can I get
out of this place?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Xion said. “I’ll check you out and take you home. Although,
you might have gotten out sooner if you had been behaving—this place is like
prison.”
Axel snorted and beckoned to Roxas with one hand. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m alright,” Roxas murmured.
“We’re taking good care of him,” Xion said. “A few more days of my mom’s
cooking and Roxas will be ready to run a marathon with zombies chasing him.”
Roxas’s bright blue eyes widened and he lifted his hands in protest. “I don’t
know, Xion,” he squeaked out.
She chuckled. “I was kidding. Don’t have a cow.”
Relieved, Roxas came to sit delicately on the edge of the bed.
Axel took a moment to take in the sight of Roxas. When he had dropped Roxas off
at Xion’s a little over a week ago, the boy had been a bag of bones and
terrified nerves. Though there were still shadows around his eyes and a
thinness to his shoulders and face, Roxas had mended like a torn book placed in
the expert hands of a bookbinder. His skin was smooth and healthy, bare of
bruises if not scars. His golden hair shone with luster, his eyes were bright,
and his lips were no longer chapped. He looked stronger, better, and he no
longer flinched at Axel’s every movement. Though there was still a wariness to
Roxas, Axel could see that the boy was healing. If given enough time, he might
even trust again.
Xion was a miracle worker.
Axel reached over, caught her hand, and squeezed it.
She looked at him questioningly.
Axel tipped his head silently towards Roxas.
Xion followed the gesture and then smiled, nodding.
If Roxas noticed their silent exchange, he didn’t say anything. He was looking
at Axel, his blue eyes roving from Axel’s feet up to his bandaged shoulder. For
a moment, he appeared to hesitate, warring with himself. Then, he asked softly,
“Are you feeling alright? Are you in pain?”
“I’m doing okay,” Axel said and slid his hand across the blanket towards Roxas
without making a sudden move to touch the boy.
After another moment of nervousness, Roxas reached out and gently clasped
Axel’s hand between his own. He kept his blue eyes down and his fingers
trembled lightly as if he expected Axel to turn and strike him for being so
forward. When no harm came to him, the boy smiled at Axel—really smiled. “I’m
glad,” Roxas whispered.
For a moment, Axel thought he was dreaming, but Roxas’s skin was warm and soft
against his own. For a moment, he thought about how soft the rest of Roxas’s
skin must be or those long fingers would feel wrapped around his shaft. Then,
through sheer will and the fact that the hospital scrubs he was wearing would
do nothing to hide a sudden erection, Axel forced those thoughts away.
“Thanks for asking,” Axel murmured.
Roxas flushed and it was the most adorable sight Axel had ever seen. “Y-you’re
welcome,” he stuttered.
Xion grinned and took a deck of cards from the pocket of her sweater. “How
about we play a game, guys? Do you know how to play Old Maid?”
Axel nodded, but didn’t pull his hand away from Roxas. As long as the boy was
willing to touch him, Axel wouldn’t do anything to push him away. Roxas held on
for a long time, until he needed both hands to hold the fistful of cards he had
acquired.
…
The next day, Xion and Roxas checked Axel out of the hospital as early as
possible. The nurses and doctors all looked unspeakably relieved to see the
red-haired man go, but they couldn’t have been as happy as Axel was. He was
even happy to see the drifts of half-melted and refrozen snow. Shivering in his
borrowed ill-fitting jacket, Axel bounded through the parking lot to Xion’s
small silver car as if he had never been hurt in his life, as if he hadn’t been
shot a week ago.
“Is he alright?” Roxas whispered to Xion as they followed at a tamer pace.
“Probably not,” Xion admitted. “Maybe they overmedicated him or else he just
went stir crazy.”
“I heard that!” Axel shouted, whirling around to point his finger fiercely at
them. He grinned like a jackal, all straight perfect white teeth. “I’m just
happy to be out of the hospital.”
“Well, if you keep running around like that, you’ll wrench something and be
right back in it,” Xion warned him.
Axel stuck his tongue out at her and waited impatiently as Xion unlocked her
car and tossed his overnight bag into the trunk. Then, she slid behind the
wheel and Roxas climbed into the backseat. Axel clambered into the passenger
seat and put both hands over the heater with a grateful sigh. Then, he watched
the hospital diminish in the rearview mirror with bright green eyes. The drive
to Axel’s manor was peaceful. Shortly after they turned onto the highway, Axel
slumped against the window and fell into a deep sleep.
“Is he alright?” Roxas asked, leaning forward to peer at him.
“Sure,” Xion said. “He’s probably just tired. It sucks being in a hospital.”
Roxas nodded in understanding and sat back.
“You’ll take care of him, won’t you?” Xion asked as she signaled a lane change.
“I’m worried about him.”
“Yeah,” Roxas said lightly.
Xion rummaged through the center console of her car and produced a small cell
phone. “Here,” she said and passed it backwards to Roxas.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“A phone,” she said. “If anything happens, I want you to call me.”
“Call you?” he repeated.
She nodded. “I programmed my number and my dad’s. If anything happens, if the
Organization comes back, or if you need anything, you just call.”
“Thank you,” Roxas whispered and turned the phone over in his hands. “Where did
you get this?”
“I bought it,” she said. “They gave me all Axel’s personal effects at the
hospital and his credit card was with everything.”
Roxas smiled faintly and tucked the phone into his pocket as Xion turned down
Axel’s long driveway. The house was lit up like a Christmas tree, positively
glowing, and beautiful. Xion pulled up as close to the manor as she could, put
her car in park, and shut off the engine. Axel remained asleep, his face mashed
against the window, snoring softly.
“You can take your bags in,” Xion said to Roxas. “I’ll wake him up.”
“Should we wake him?” Roxas asked.
“He’s too heavy to carry,” she said with a shrug. Then, she reached across the
seat and pinched Axel’s nose. For a moment, nothing happened except his soft
snores fell silent. Then, with a great heaving gasp of breath, Axel woke with a
start.
“What the hell?” he demanded, glaring at Xion.
“Time to wake up,” Xion said smoothly. “You’re home.”
Axel turned his head and stared out the window at his house for a moment
without appearing to recognize it. Then, he grinned, pushed open the door, and
jumped out of the car. He rushed past Roxas, bounded up the stairs, and
disappeared inside. Roxas and Xion stared after him. A moment later, they could
hear him shouting overenthusiastic greetings to Chives.
“You’re sure he’ll be okay?” Roxas asked again.
Xion shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll tire himself out,” she said. “Hayner was kind of
like this after he got a concussion playing football.” She checked her phone
for the time and grumbled out a small curse. “I’ve got to go. The kids will be
home from school soon and I don’t want to leave them alone.”
Roxas nodded and accepted Xion’s gentle embrace.
“You be safe,” she told him sternly, “and call if you need anything. I mean
it.” Then, she hugged him again, climbed into her car, and disappeared into the
snowy afternoon.
Roxas picked up the two bags and went into the manor. Axel rushed about,
looking over his home as if it might have changed while he was gone. As far as
Roxas could tell, the only thing that had changed was that Chives had taken
down and disposed of the Christmas tree. Everything else was normal and quiet,
scented with gingerbread and evergreen. It was almost too quiet compared to the
organized chaos of Xion’s house. Roxas set the bags down on the floor and took
off his coat and gloves. Chives came out of the kitchen to greet him.
A few moments later, Axel sat down on the couch and fell asleep before he could
even turn on the television. Roxas and Chives stared down at him for a moment
before Chives disappeared back into the kitchen to finish cooking dinner.
Uncertain of what else to do, Roxas took the bags upstairs and unpacked his
clothes. Then, he hesitated outside of Axel’s room. Should he go in and put his
master’s clothes away? He wasn’t sure if he was allowed inside and he didn’t
want to risk upsetting Axel, not now of all times.
Instead, Roxas set the bag down outside the door, tucked it aside so no one
would trip over it, and returned to the living room. Axel hadn’t moved from his
position. Gingerly, Roxas tucked a blanket around his shoulders and sat down
beside him. The fire was crackling nicely in the hearth and Roxas gazed into
the flames. Beside him, Axel slept peacefully. His red hair was strewn across
the sofa and he murmured quietly as he dreamed. Roxas sighed softly and smiled
at his master.
…
Axel woke a few hours later with a cramp in his back. He was on his couch and
the fire had burned low in the grate. How long had he been sleeping? He sat up,
groaning and stretching, and a warm blanket slipped down his chest. His
shoulder laced with distant pain and he ran his hand over the thick knot of
bandages.
“Hi,” came a small voice.
Axel turned his head and stared at Roxas for a moment, surprised that the boy
had spoken without being directed to.
“Did you have a nice nap?” Roxas asked.
Axel nodded. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know,” Roxas said. “Past dinnertime. Chives and I ate a little while
ago, but he told me to let you sleep.”
“I was really tired,” Axel agreed lamely. “It’s hard to sleep in hospitals.”
Roxas nodded even if he didn’t understand. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to
get you something to eat?”
“Sure,” Axel said, still surprised that Roxas was being so forward. It looked
like Xion had been able to not only repair Roxas’s body, but parts of his mind
and heart as well. “I guess.”
Roxas rose from the couch and hurried into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he
returned with a bowl of corned beef and cabbage and a glass of milk. “Chives
says to eat the cabbage because it’s good for you,” he said softly.
Axel wrinkled his nose. “Do you like cabbage, Roxas?”
The boy nodded. “It was good.”
Axel dug gratefully into the food, but forced himself to eat slowly. After a
week of soup and Jello, he was dying for some real food.
“Do you feel alright?” Roxas asked when Axel finished. “Are you in pain?’
Axel shook his head, but admitted, “I’m a little cold.”
“You should take a bath,” Roxas murmured. “I could… I could draw one for you.”
“That would be nice,” Axel said.
“Am I allowed in your room?” Roxas asked.
“Sure.”
“I’ll just be a minute,” Roxas said and rose sharply. “Let me help you up the
stairs.”
“I’m okay, really—”
“Just a minute,” Roxas said quickly. “I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.”
Then, before Axel could say anything, the boy disappeared up the stairs and he
heard the water start up.
“Wow,” Axel murmured. This was interesting, to say the least. Roxas had gone
from a horrified frightened slave to an attentive eager young man. He wondered
if this was all Xion’s doing, but it had to be. She had gotten Roxas to care
about Axel, to like him, maybe even trust him a little. Axel smiled to himself.
Roxas hurried back down the stairs and came to stand beside Axel. “The bath is
running. Are you ready to go upstairs?”
Axel nodded and eased to his feet. Roxas followed closely, his hands stretched
out as if prepared to catch Axel at any moment. The concern the boy showed was
more than flattering. For a moment, Axel wondered just how far Roxas would go
to please him before he chased those thoughts away with a stick. He was finally
making progress with Roxas. He didn’t want to ruin it just because he was
horny.
The porcelain tub was half-filled and covered with a neat inch of bubbles.
Everything smelled wonderful and the mirror was steamed pleasantly. Roxas had
laid out Axel’s robe and a towel on the vanity along with fresh bandages and
the painkillers he had been prescribed.
“I can help you change your bandages when you’re finished,” Roxas offered.
Axel nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll be just… outside… if you need me,” Roxas said.
Then, the boy ducked quickly out of the bathroom and closed the door softly.
Letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, Roxas leaned against
the door and listened to the sounds of Axel getting undressed and stepping into
the tub. The water sloshed quietly.
Even with all of Xion’s assurances, Roxas hadn’t been certain Axel would accept
his actions, but his master seemed more surprised than upset. Roxas supposed
that was understandable since he had done little more than snivel and whimper
ever since he had been purchased. Roxas wanted to make Axel happy, to keep him
comfortable, to make sure he wasn’t hurt further. Axel had been trying to help
Roxas since day one and it was high time Roxas showed a little gratitude.
A little voice in the back of his mind whispered that Axel was just like
Marluxia, but Roxas squashed it down.
Axel had been kind in a way that Roxas had never felt before. Even Marluxia had
never been as kind as Axel was. Marluxia would never have put himself in danger
just for Roxas. Axel truly seemed to care about Roxas and spending time with
Xion’s family had opened a part of Roxas’s heart that he was certain had died
years ago. He listened to the sounds of Axel bathing for a moment before
ducking into the hallway to grab Axel’s bag. He quietly unpacked the clothes,
tossing the dirty articles into the hamper and putting what he thought was
clean on top of the dresser.
Tucked into the bag were the reams of Xion’s research. Roxas stared at the
papers for a long moment, trying to make sense of the words on the page, but
they didn’t miraculously assemble themselves into anything he could understand.
There was a single picture on the final sheet. It was in black and white and
painfully grainy so Roxas couldn’t make out much, but it appeared to be of a
happy little family. He thought he might have recognized a few faces, but it
was hard to be certain. Roxas put the stack of research on Axel’s desk and
returned to listening at the bathroom door.
It was quiet inside save the quiet slosh of the water lapping against the sides
of the tub.
Roxas moved away from the door. If Axel came out, he didn’t want to be caught
standing so close to the door like an eavesdropper. Delicately, Roxas turned
down Axel’s bed and fluffed the pillows so that everything would be perfect
when his master got out of the tub. A few more minutes passed and it was still
quiet in the bathroom. Roxas began to debate knocking on the door to check on
Axel. What if he had fallen asleep in the tub?
Then, Axel called softly, “Roxas? Can you help me?”
“Should I come in?” Roxas asked, his hand poised above the knob.
There was no answer.
A shiver of worry and doubt ran down Roxas’s spine. What if something had
happened to Axel? What if the Organization was here? The weight of the phone
Xion had given Roxas was a comfort as he pushed open the bathroom door. For a
moment, Roxas froze and just stared.
There was no terrible monster or horrible situation waiting on the other side
of the door. Axel was slumped in the tub with his injured shoulder hitched
awkwardly out of the warm water. His face was pale, his eyes were glazed, and
his wild hair was plastered to his head. He barely looked like the man Roxas
had come to know.
“Are you alright?” Roxas asked.
Axel shook his head slightly. “I don’t feel so great,” he murmured.
Roxas knelt beside the tub and gently pressed his hand to Axel’s forehead. He
was burning up. “You have a fever,” he said gently.
Axel shivered. “No, I don’t. I’m cold.”
“Maybe I should get Chives,” Roxas began.
Axel gripped the boy’s hand. “Don’t leave,” he whispered.
Roxas wet his lips and swallowed nervously. “Okay,” he relented.
Axel smiled faintly and then shivered violently. “I’m cold. Help me out of the
tub,” he said.
Roxas couldn’t find the will to protest. He pulled the drain and then gripped
Axel’s forearms tightly. Roxas wasn’t strong enough to lift him from the tub
and Axel was too unsteady to get out alone. Together, they somehow managed.
Roxas guided Axel to lean on the vanity and wrapped him in several fluffy
towels. Blearily, Axel dried himself off and Roxas worked at the soaked red
tresses until they had stopped dripping. He tried to keep his eyes from Axel’s
naked skin, from his limp member, from thinking about terrible things that had
happened to him before… Then, almost suddenly, Roxas found himself wondering if
Axel would continue to be this gentle, even if Roxas lay beneath him in his
most vulnerable state. He thought of Axel’s kiss, his gentle hands…
“Roxas,” Axel murmured, interrupting the boy’s thoughts. He tried to shrug into
his robe, but his shoulder was stiff with pain.
Roxas quickly helped him and knotted the belt securely around Axel’s waist.
“Tired,” Axel whispered.
Roxas nodded. “I know, I know,” he said and supported Axel gently. Axel gripped
the boy’s narrow shoulders, leaning on Roxas for support as the boy helped him
from the steamy bathroom. Roxas eased Axel down on his bed and pushed back
Axel’s damp hair to feel his forehead again. Axel’s skin was still overheated
and a flush was spreading across his cheeks. “I’m going to get Chives,” Roxas
told him.
Axel caught Roxas’s hand and clung to it, green eyes glazed with fever. “Don’t
go,” he pleaded. “Stay.”
“You need help,” Roxas insisted. “You have a fever.”
Axel tightened his grasp on Roxas.
“I’ll just get Chives and then I’ll come right back,” Roxas said.
“Promise?” Axel asked.
Roxas nodded. “I promise.”
Axel released Roxas’s hand and slumped over sideways against his pillows,
watching through his lashes.
Roxas glanced at Axel and then hurried from the room. He stood nervously at the
top of the stairs and called down to Chives. “Axel has a fever,” he said. “I
don’t know what to do.”
Chives appeared out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, and climbed
the stairs to stand with Roxas. “It’s probably from all the running around he’s
done,” Chives explained as they walked together back to Axel’s bedroom. “We’ll
just give him something to reduce his fever and let him sleep it off.”
Roxas nodded. He looked surprised that it would be so easy to cure a fever and
Chives patted him on the shoulder. Then, the butler went into the bathroom and
opened the medicine cabinet to take out a few ibuprofen. He shook them into his
hand and then filled Axel’s glass with water.
“Axel,” Chives said sternly. “You have to take these pills.”
“No,” Axel grumbled. “No.”
“You have to,” Chives pressed. “You have a fever.”
“No,” Axel said. “Cold…”
“Exactly,” Chives said and grasped Axel’s chin between his fingers. “Take these
and the cold will go away.”
Axel turned his head into his pillow, moaning. “No.”
Roxas glanced at Chives curiously.
“You saw how he was at the hospital,” Chives said with a great heaving sigh.
“Axel always has been a big baby when he’s sick.”
“Can I try?” Roxas asked.
Chives tipped the pills into Roxas’s hand and passed him the glass of water.
“Be my guest.”
“Um,” Roxas began timidly. “Please, take these. They’ll make you feel better.”
Much to Chives’s surprise, Axel turned to face Roxas with his green eyes
bright. He sat up slowly and rubbed his injured shoulder gently. Then, he held
out his hands like a child and accepted the pills and water. He took them and
then flopped back against the pillows.
“Amazing,” Chives said.
Roxas flushed.
“Well,” the butler continued. “He’ll be fine now. You can just let him sleep it
off.”
Roxas nodded and turned to follow Chives from Axel’s bedroom. Suddenly, Axel
snared the back of Roxas’s shirt and held on tightly.
“Don’t go,” he pleaded. “Stay.”
Chives tipped his hand and shrugged, saying, “It’s up to you, Roxas. I have to
get back to the dishes before the water gets cold.”
Roxas wet his lips and then nodded. “I’ll stay with him.”
Chives said, “Suit yourself,” and closed the door lightly behind him.
Roxas smoothed the blankets over Axel’s stomach and sat down delicately at the
edge of the bed, holding Axel’s hand gingerly between his own. Sleepily, his
master smiled at him. Axel wasn’t awake for much longer, but even after he had
fallen asleep, Roxas didn’t leave him. He thought about what Xion and Chives
had both said on several occasions, what Cloud had told him before he died, and
how Axel had come to save Roxas at such great cost to himself.
“You really are kind,” Roxas whispered. “Aren’t you?”
Axel didn’t answer, but Roxas was finally ready to admit that it was true. Axel
wasn’t like Marluxia. He was kind and sweet, even though he was stupid and his
plans to protect Roxas often went painfully awry, but he was trying and that
was more than any master had ever done for Roxas. Smiling tenderly, Roxas held
Axel’s hand well into the night.
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** A Storm of Information *****
Oh my god! My job blew up. We lost two fulltime people overnight and guess who
had to fill that gap, along with their own shifts? Me!
                                     X X X
When Axel Inferno woke the next morning, he was warm and comfortable in his own
bed. The scent of his freshly-laundered sheets perfectly surrounded him,
replacing the smells of antiseptic and bleach that had become so familiar
during his weeklong stay at the hospital. His shoulder throbbed dimly, hot
beneath the circle of bandages, and he wondered when he had last taken his
prescribed painkillers. Could he take another one now?
Groaning sleepily, Axel sat up in bed and his eyes nearly fell out of his head
at the sight that awaited him. Sleeping peacefully, Roxas was strewn across his
lap with his head pillowed on his folded arms. His pale face was smooth with
sleep, his pink lips curled into a small smile, and his fingers twisted in the
blankets. The hem of his t-shirt had been hitched up slightly, revealing a line
of small burns and old scars on the otherwise white skin of his hip.
“R-Roxas,” Axel whispered.
With a soft groan, Roxas’s blue eyes fluttered open. He sat up, his slight
weight moving across Axel’s thigh, and pushed a hand through his rumpled honey-
blonde hair. He met Axel’s eyes and smiled faintly, murmuring, “Good morning.”
Then, with a jolt, the blood drained from his face. “Oh, god—”
Before he could stop himself, Axel grabbed Roxas’s wrist and pulled him into a
tight embrace. “Don’t panic. It’s okay,” he said gently. “I think… I think I
asked you to stay last night.”
Roxas’s small body relaxed against Axel’s arms. “Oh,” he said softly.
Axel ran his hand down Roxas’s back, rubbing soothingly. “You stayed with me
all night?”
Roxas nodded slowly, his chin brushing against Axel’s shoulder and collarbone.
“Are you feeling better?”
“I think so,” Axel said and reached up to feel his forehead. “I don’t really
remember. Did I have a fever?”
Roxas sat back, his weight sinking down on Axel’s lap, and nodded. He stretched
out a hand and felt Axel’s forehead, pushing aside the flame-red tresses, and
then felt his own head for comparison. “I think it broke,” he said. “You feel
normal.”
Axel smirked. “What does normal feel like?”
Roxas’s eyes narrowed even as a smile pulled at his lips. “You’re silly,” he
said.
Axel scratched the back of his head. “I know,” he admitted.
Roxas eased himself from Axel’s lap and tugged his shirt down over his stomach,
embarrassed. “So, I’ll go downstairs and help Chives make breakfast while you
get dressed. You need to eat to keep your strength up,” he said gently.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Axel said. “I’m starving.”
Smiling, Roxas left Axel’s room and closed the door softly behind him.
Axel remained in bed a moment longer, letting a slow smile creep across his
face. Roxas had stayed the whole night with him. If that wasn’t progress, Axel
didn’t know what was. He leaped out of bed as if on rocket-powered roller-
skates and immediately regretted it as pain speared through his shoulder. He
knocked back one of his painkillers and then managed to get dress in jeans and
a button-up shirt. He was just about to head downstairs for breakfast when he
spotted a stack of papers on his desk. Odd, he hadn’t done any work since
before Cloud ran away, before he even bought Roxas, before Christmas.
Curious, Axel picked up the stack of paper and sat down in his desk chair to go
through it. The organization had Xion’s handiwork written all over it. Only she
thought that a stack was the same as a timeline. It was a good thing she wasn’t
in charge of filing anything or had a job with lots of paperwork. She’d be
fired in a few hours. The articles and notes were shuffled together
haphazardly, intermingled with pictures and scans from newspapers and even a
few handwritten notes in Xion’s outrageous scrawl.
He took several minutes to reorganize the stack into some sort of chronological
order and arrange them into reasonable piles by their apparent subjects.
The first few articles detailed the rebellion Axel vaguely remembered hearing
about some twenty years ago. Someone named Ansem Wise had tried to outlaw
slavery with very little success. He had been widely hated for his efforts.
Axel remembered Xion’s parents talking about it once, how they had planned to
join his cause but had just had Xion at the time and couldn’t risk the
repercussions.
Next, there was a grainy picture of a man Axel might have recognized. He had
wild hair and bright eyes, but it was hard to make out in black and white. He
was apparently Ansem’s brother and had frequently suffered from direct attacks
by Ansem by way of protesting his abuse of his slaves. His name had been
smudged out.
The next article was an obituary. A short time after the attacks on his
brother, Ansem was shot and killed. It was widely thought that he had been
killed by his brother for revenge. Many people thought that Ansem’s death would
be the end of the attempt to free the slaves, but it wasn’t.
Instead Ansem’s rebellion was taken over by his daughter, Aqua, and her
husband, Ventus. Ventus and Aqua were quieter about their protests, publishing
pictures and statistics rather than attacking people directly. It was both
easier and harder to ignore them. People started to think about slaves.
Mandatory health codes were instated when slaves were purchased to slow the
spread of disease. With the right amount of money, hospitals were ordered to
accept slaves and save their lives if their masters paid enough. A few
compassionate masters even freed their slaves.
Axel wet his lips and moved to the next article. There was a hideous picture of
a charred house on the front page. It described a terrible fire that had burned
down the Wise house. It was assumed that the fire had killed everyone inside,
including the young son of Aqua and Ventus though his remains were never found.
Only their older son had survived the fire because he had been out of town at
the time.
Ansem’s grief-stricken brother, Xemnas Wise, came forward to offer a reward for
his grandson. He was unwilling to admit that the child had died in the fire and
even pleaded for the Wises’ older son, Cloud, to come forward. They were the
only family that remained and they should try to act as such, in honor of
Ansem.
Axel’s heart began to pound.
Quickly he turned the page and found himself staring at a grainy photograph of
a smiling happy family. He squinted at it, but the quality was atrocious.
Instead, Axel opened his laptop and powered it on for the first time in weeks.
He searched for any family photographs of Ventus and Aqua Wise that he could
find. Immediately, his heart stopped.
Not only did Cloud’s smiling face gaze back at him from the computer screen,
but he recognized Roxas as well. His cheeks were still baby-round in the
photographs, his smile toothy and loved. He looked just like his father,
Ventus, and just like Cloud. Aqua shared her blue eyes with all of them,
smiling proudly in front of the house that would wind up a charred grave later
in their happy lives.
With a shout, Axel leaped away from his computer and stood back, panting.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
He couldn’t believe that the information had been this easy to find, right
there at his fingertips the entire time.
The Organization—Xemnas—wanted to destroy Roxas from the inside out because he
was Ansem Wise’s grandson. They had probably killed Cloud for the same reason.
It was only dumb luck that Axel had purchased either of them and kept them safe
for however long he could.
There was only one question to be answered now.
Why did Xemnas want to torture Roxas? What revenge did he want to take on the
boy? It wasn’t as if Ansem had been able to outlaw slavery. The few changes
Aqua had managed to instigate were hardly worth batting an eye out. There was a
part of this story, of this puzzle, that was still missing.
Axel threw himself back down at his laptop and quickly searched for record on
Xemnas. He couldn’t find anything explicit about the psychopath and nothing on
the Organization either. He pounded through several more pages of results
fruitlessly, hopelessly, desperately.
There was a light knock on the door and he turned to see Roxas standing in the
threshold. Axel’s green eyes were wild.
“Roxas,” he said quickly. “Do you know why Xemnas wants to hurt you?”
Startled, Roxas shook his head. “He told me once, but I don’t really remember…”
Axel rose from his chair and crossed the room to gently clasp Roxas’s narrow
shoulders in his hands. “I need you to think,” he said. “I need you to tell
me.”
Roxas trembled. He had been trying to think more and more about what the
Organization had told him while they smothered the oxygen from his lungs. The
memory of their confession was hazy, but a few new pieces were becoming
clearer. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “Something about what my grandfather did
to him.”
Axel pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to be patient, but he was
practically vibrating with urgency.
“Something about… a black list,” Roxas whispered finally. “I think.”
Axel tilted his head and repeated, “A black list?”
Roxas nodded, “But I don’t know what that means. I’m sorry.”
Axel turned back to his computer and typed those words into a search box. A
moment later, a few results popped up. Clicking on the first link, Axel found a
short list of names and pictures. The names were alphabetical so Xemnas was far
down on the list, but it looked like he was one of the first ones added to it.
Axel clicked on his name, aware that Roxas was approaching timidly to peer at
the screen. Axel’s green eyes quickly scanned the page that popped up.
“The Black List,” Axel murmured as he read. There was shock and awe in his
voice. “It’s a list of people who aren’t allowed to purchase slaves for
excessive cruelty and inhumane acts. It’s something started by Ansem Wise and
successfully enacted by his daughter, Aqua.”
Roxas shuddered, looking at the pictures of flayed skin and ripped bodies.
“What?” Among Xemnas’s injured slaves that had been taken from him when his
name was added to the Black List, he recognized Cloud’s brutalized skin and
eyes. There was a bite on his face.
“That’s why he wants to hurt you,” Axel breathed out. “Your family, your
grandfather, made it illegal for Xemnas to purchase slaves. That’s why he has
the Organization—to buy slaves for him. That’s why he won’t let you go! That’s
why he killed Cloud!”
Roxas’s face when ghost-pale. “N-no way,” he whispered. “That can’t…”
Axel gripped Roxas’s hand and squeezed his thin fingers. “Don’t be afraid,” he
whispered. “I’ll protect you.”
Roxas started to pull away, his skin aching with Axel’s other failed promises
and plans to keep him safe.
“I won’t send you away,” Axel promised. “I’ll keep you with me this time. And
the police—I’ll call Xion’s dad. Zack will know what to do.” He clasped Roxas’s
hand and pulled him downstairs to the kitchen where he quickly told Chives
everything he had learned. The butler listened in shock. Roxas tightened his
grip on Axel’s warm hand. He didn’t want to let go.
…
Xemnas Wise paced in front of the window of his room in the cheap hotel. He
couldn’t believe the police had found and been able to save Axel Inferno.
Luxord had called a few hours ago, wheezing, and told him everything he knew.
Disgusted, Xemnas had hung up.
“Worthless,” he snarled. “All of them, worthless.”
He couldn’t believe just how much of a thorn in his side this Axel had turned
up to be. First, he had purchased Cloud and nursed him back to health. When
Cloud escaped to come after his wife and children, still held by Xemnas and the
Organization, he had been strong enough to get rid of Larxene. Xemnas blamed
Axel for that. Though taking revenge on Cloud had been sweet, he wasn’t the one
Xemnas wanted.
He wanted Roxas.
Roxas was the precious babe. He had been Ansem’s favorite grandson. Aqua and
Ventus had been rasiging him to respect and care for slave. Roxas was supposed
to be the next generation and Xemnas wanted nothing more than to tear him apart
at the seams.
He wanted Roxas to suffer.
Xemnas moved away from the window and sat down at the wobbly little table. He
had taken apart his gun and cleaned every inch of it. Oiled to perfect
condition, Xemnas slowly loaded each chamber of the revolver and clicked the
cylinder shut. He curled his fingers over the trigger and gazed at the wall.
Leveling the gun at the mirror, he momentarily considered shattering it, but
decided against it.
He would save his bullets for Roxas.
For nearly ten years, he had toyed with the boy. He had scarred and branded
him, raped and defiled him, abused and destroyed him, but it was time for the
game to end. Axel was a thorn in his side, gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
It was time for this to end.
When night fell, Xemnas would end Roxas. He would end this.
Xemnas would have his revenge and then move somewhere where there was no Black
List. He would buy another slave, maybe one that reminded him of Roxas, and
pick up where he had left off before his worthless brother had interfered. He
could already feel the whip in his hands, feel their ruined bodies clenching
around him, hear the delicious whimpers of their broken voices.
Yes, after all these years, he was ready to lay the finishing touches on his
vengeance.
If Axel interfered, Xemnas would kill him too. What was one human life compared
to the lives of all the animals, all the slaves, he had butchered over the
years? It wasn’t as if he owed Luxord anything. That man was as worthless as
his son, simpering like a child.
Xemnas pushed his gun into his waistband and moved back to the window. He
looked out over the city, smirking, and slipped his hand down the front of his
pants. His flesh pulsed, hardening with the thought of what was to come. Xemnas
stroked himself idly, with the patience only he possessed. Finally, night fell
and Xemnas finished himself off. Pleased, he collected his belongings, loaded
them into his car, and drove to the sanctuary that Roxas had found to hide
himself in.
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Through Darkness, Beyond Light *****
Oh my god! My job has blown up... I went from working part-time to fulltime
overnight! I was so not ready for that!
                                     X X X
Night fell beyond Axel’s villa like a velvet curtain descending on a stage. The
snow glittered in half-melted piles all over the yard. It had been warm and
Chives had spent much of the day shoveling the drive with Roxas in case they
needed to make a quick getaway. Though Axel had wanted to help, they insisted
he stay off his feet. He was still recovering from his injury. It had only been
one day since his release from the hospital.
Instead of helping physically, Axel called Xion and told her everything he had
learned through her research into Roxas, Xemnas, and the Organization. She had
been just as shocked as he was and given him her father’s direct line in case
something happened. Axel called Zack Fair and got some tips from the policeman.
Most of which consisted of, ‘Call me immediately if something happens, you
hear! And I’ll kick your ass if you don’t!’
It was seven o’clock when Chives, Roxas, and Axel finished dinner. They were
content with the fortifications on their house with the snow shoveled away,
knives and flashlights hidden in countless convenient locations, and car keys
by the door. Roxas stacked up their dirty plates and carried them into the
kitchen, smiling over his shoulder at Axel and Chives as he worked. The butler
reclined with a sigh and then rose to help Roxas with the dishes.
“Oh, I’ve got them,” Roxas began.
“Nonsense,” Chives said. “You shoveled more snow than I did. You relax. Watch
some television with Axel or take a shower or something.”
A moment later, Roxas emerged through the kitchen door looking sheepish as he
sat down at the table across from Axel. “Chives won’t let me help,” he said
softly.
Axel smirked. “Chives takes his kitchen very seriously,” he said. “Don’t worry
about it. You worked hard today, Roxas.”
Roxas wet his lips and smiled nervously.
Axel reached across the table, long fingers extended towards Roxas’s face. For
a moment, the boy looked like he wanted to shy away, but Axel didn’t force him
to accept the touch and Roxas leaned into it a moment later. His skin was warm
and soft as Axel’s fingers slid along his jaw and into his pale tresses. His
eyelids fluttered, lashes like twin fans kissing against his cheeks, and his
blue eyes gazed at Axel openly. This boy was so different from the broken
creature Axel had first brought home.
“Roxas,” he began, but then Chives stepped out of the kitchen and Roxas pulled
away, embarrassed to be accepting Axel’s touch.
Bright headlights moved across the wall. Tires crunched on the pavement and
lingering ice.
“I will get it,” Chives said and put aside his dishtowel.
“It might be Xion,” Axel said. “I told her what was happening, but I explicitly
told her not to come here because it’s dangerous. Send her home.”
“Of course,” Chives said and slid Axel a dignified glare. “She listens just
about as well as you do.”
Axel stuck his tongue out at Chives’s back.
Roxas giggled privately behind his hand. Though he really liked Xion and was
happy that she cared enough to check on them, he didn’t want her in danger.
Axel turned his attention back to Roxas, just about to speak, when the loud
report of gunfire rocked through the house. Roxas froze, his eyes widening with
horror, and Axel lunged to grab him. There was a crash in the parlor and
something shattered. Axel jerked Roxas into the kitchen and leaned on the door
to hold it shut. He fumbled along the counter for the landline telephone. He
had just closed his fingers around it when the power sputtered and the house
was plunged into darkness.
“Shit,” Axel hissed as his eyes adjusted to the potent gloom. The only
illumination was the pale moonlight that filtered in through the window.
Roxas’s bright eyes glowed in the darkness. He had grabbed a knife from the
drawer and was clutching it tightly. The blade glinted like a sharp smile.
“Shh,” Axel whispered and reached into the pocket of his pants for his cell
phone. His hand came away empty and he remembered setting it down on the coffee
table in the living room. “Shit!”
Abruptly, there was a loud bang on the door just behind Axel. The redhead’s
body jerked with the effort it took to keep it closed. He gestured for Roxas to
run and dug his heels into the tile, straining to keep the door shut against
the intruder. Weakly, Roxas shook his head even as his lips and hands trembled.
“Get out of here,” Axel hissed. “He’s not after me. Just run!”
Roxas heard the soft ratchet as a gun was cocked on the other side of the door.
His eyes widened and his heart leaped into his throat. He grabbed Axel by the
hand and yanked him away from the door just as a bullet ripped through the wood
where he had been standing. Axel stumbled, lost his footing, and crashed into
Roxas from behind. Somewhere in the kitchen, the bullet ricocheted
metallically. Though Roxas clutched at the counter, he lost his grip and the
two of them fell to the floor. Axel cried out and the knife skittered from
Roxas’s grasp. Then, the kitchen door kicked open with a bang and Roxas looked
up into the face that he still saw in his nightmares.
“Xemnas,” Axel snarled.
The golden-eyed man glowered down at them as if seeing insects crawling across
the floor. “Well, well,” he said cruelly though his voice was as smooth as
melted chocolate. “What have we here?”
Axel forced himself onto his knees between Xemnas and Roxas, throwing his arm
out to prevent Roxas from doing anything rash. His shoulder ached with the
movement. “Get out of my house. I’ve already called the police,” Axel snapped.
Xemnas laughed for a long moment and then his expression turned sharp and
cruel. “You didn’t call anyone,” he said with a sneer. “I cut the power.”
“I used my cell phone,” Axel said smartly.
Xemnas held up the familiar shape of Axel’s smart phone though it was smashed
beyond all recognition. “You mean… this cell phone?”
The blood drained from Axel’s face. “Get out!” he tried again.
“Give me Roxas,” Xemnas said as he leveled his gun at Axel’s face, “and I’ll
let you live.”
Axel glanced at Roxas, suddenly stricken by the knowledge that this boy was all
that remained of the Wise family, the people who had tried so hard to abolish
slavery. Axel couldn’t let it end here—he wouldn’t. “No!” he shouted. “If you
want to get to him, you’ll have to go through—”
“That can be arranged,” Xemnas said easily and his finger curled over the
trigger.
The second gunshot rang through the house. Axel saw the flash of the muzzle,
smelled the hot gunpowder, and familiar pain speared through his shoulder.
Something shattered and glass rained down on his head and shoulders. Then, the
cold tile rushed up to meet him and he became aware that he was looking at
Roxas’s narrow back. The boy had leaped over Axel at the last second, caught
his injured shoulder with his foot, and slammed his hands under the muzzle of
the gun. The bullet had found its mark on the overhead light, shattering the
bulbs.
Winded and dizzy with pain, Axel could only watch as Roxas and Xemnas grappled
for the gun, but it wasn’t much of a fight. Though Roxas was desperate and
pumped with adrenaline, Xemnas was easily twice his size. He easily overpowered
Roxas and slammed him facedown into the kitchen table. Roxas cried out and the
sound was pitiful and agonizing in the silence. A silver candelabrum crashed
over, hit the floor, and rolled noisily on the broken glass.
“Stop,” Axel protested from his position slumped against the refrigerator.
“Please, stop.”
Xemnas pressed the gun into Roxas’s back and sneered at Axel over his shoulder.
His golden eyes gleamed hideously. “You just lay there, boy,” he snarled. “If
you move, I’ll pull the trigger.”
Roxas whimpered weakly, his fingernails scraping the wood of the table. Glass
from the shattered bulbs covered the surface and his blood smeared all along
the wood, dripping over the edge of the table where he gripped it to anchor
himself. He gasped in pain, shoes crunching on the shattered glass.
Xemnas hooked his fingers into Roxas’s jeans and tugged them down to expose the
boy’s scarred pale bottom. Then, he leaned over and hissed against the shell of
Roxas’s ear. “I think I’ll use you one more time before I kill you,” he
snarled.
Roxas shuddered, his entire body wracked with fear and pain.
“No,” Axel protested and struggled to his feet.
Xemnas cocked his gun and dug it harder into Roxas’s back. “I warned you once
and I won’t warn you again,” he growled. “The next time you move, I will shoot
him. Just sit down and enjoy the show.”
Axel didn’t see how he had a choice. Defeated once again, he stepped back from
Roxas and Xemnas and leaned on the counter. The dishes that Chives had yet to
put away were stacked on the counter. The silverware was still lying out, but
their dinner had been light and the only utensils they had used were forks and
spoons. Xemnas would notice if Axel went for a knife and Roxas’s knife was lost
somewhere in the darkness. Heart pounding, Axel looked back at Roxas and
wished, not for the first time, that there was something he could do.
Roxas’s fingers scraped against the table and glass cut into his hands as he
fumbled.
Xemnas ran his gun down Roxas’s back, raising goose bumps of fear and torment
on the boy’s pale skin. When the cold muzzle of the gun pressed between Roxas’s
cheeks, he froze. Would Xemnas shoot him from the inside? Chuckling, Xemnas
pressed the gun against Roxas’s opening and pushed the very tip of it inside.
The sights scraped against Roxas’s fragile skin, ripping against old scars and
memories.
“W-wait,” Roxas pleaded. “I thought you were going to…”
“That would be too kind for you,” Xemnas snarled. “You don’t deserve to be
taken by me. You never have.”
Roxas trembled, hands scrabbling wildly over the glass-strewn table, as Xemnas
pushed more and more of the gun into Roxas’s small body. The metal was cold and
unforgiving, harder than anything he had ever been forced to take. When the
cylinder began to rip into him, Roxas finally found what he had been
desperately searching for in the dark—a shard of glass large enough to fit in
his hand. He gripped it even as the sharp glass cut into his palm. Then,
blindly, he stabbed backwards at Xemnas.
There was a horrible shrieking scream and it would take Roxas hours to realize
that the sound was coming from his lips. He gouged the glass into Xemnas’s
thigh, pulled it free, and then stabbed again. The second blow sank into his
stomach and Xemnas reeled back. The gun ripped free of Roxas’s body and he
stumbled over the pants that had been yanked to his ankles in his haste to
turn. His knife had slid somewhere in the darkness, but Roxas didn’t have time
to search for it.
He lunged at Xemnas like a wild animal, screaming, and stabbed again with the
shard of glass. The sliver ripped into Xemnas’s face and then Roxas felt the
muzzle press into his stomach. For a moment, he thought about pulling away,
trying to escape the gunfire, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to.
His only hope was—
Roxas pulled the shard of glass from Xemnas’s cheek and stabbed again. The
jagged shard cut into his palm and shredded through his hand. Slick with his
own blood, the glass slipped from his hand as he gouged it directly into
Xemnas’s eye. With a howl of rage and pain, Xemnas slammed his gun into Roxas’s
body and pulled the trigger.
Pain speared through Roxas’s core. He had never felt pain like this before and
it was nothing like what he was used to. Even so, he forced himself to push the
agony away. He had been through worse, so much worse, at Xemnas’s hands. What
about when Xemnas had flayed all the skin from his back and thighs? The times
Xaldin had burned every inch of his chest? When Vexen had carved Roxas’s body
like an ice sculpture? Even when Luxord had raped him in front of the
fireplace? Everything he had been through was far worse than this.
He reached out, hands combing the floor for the piece of glass he had been
using. Xemnas jammed his gun under Roxas’s chin, but the boy didn’t turn away
from his frantic search. The weapon cocked and, for a moment, Roxas though it
was all over. He wouldn’t have time to find the glass and kill Xemnas before
the bullet ripped apart his head.
Then, Axel’s red hair was all around him. He grabbed Xemnas’s hand and wrenched
it away from Roxas. He was shouting something, but Roxas couldn’t understand
through the ringing in his ears. Finally, he spotted the shard of glass and
reached for it frantically. Blood dripped from his hand, poured from his
stomach, filled his mouth.
Xemnas was fighting Axel now, cursing and swearing, and Roxas saw blood
blossomed against Axel’s shoulder. His wound… it must have opened. Injured so
badly just a week before and his ribs still tender from pervious breaks, Axel
didn’t have a chance. Xemnas wrenched the gun free and jammed it into Axel’s
chest. Heart in his throat, Roxas clutched at the piece of glass, gripping it
against his bones so that the glass could cut in but wouldn’t slip from his
hands again. Then, screaming, he stabbed into Xemnas’s face again.
His shoulder slammed into Xemnas’s gun and knocked it aside. The third shot
exploded into the ceiling, the blinding flash of the muzzle illuminating the
ruin all around them just for a moment. Xemnas kicked Roxas off, rolling over
to clutch at his face. A scream of agony tore from Roxas’s throat and he
clutched at his stomach, feeling acid and blood rush out as he pressed down.
“Roxas, stop!” Axel shouted. “Stop moving!”
Xemnas staggered to his feet and looked down at them. His face was something
out of a nightmare. One eye was nothing but blood, his lips and teeth and been
slashed, and blood covered much of his torso. “You worthless slave,” he snarled
and his words were badly slurred. Roxas must have cut his tongue. “I’ll kill
you! Just like I killed everyone else in your pathetic family!”
For a moment, Roxas just stared up the barrel of that gun. His blue eyes glowed
in the darkness, catching and soaking up the moonlight. Then, he said suddenly
in a voice that was not his own, “You might have killed me, brother, but there
will always be others to continue the work of humankind.”
Xemnas’s eyes widened and his hand shook wildly. “Ansem…? But how?”
Roxas chuckled and his voice shifted to that of a woman’s. “Did you think you
could be rid of all the good in the world that easily, Uncle?”
“You might have killed my family. You might have killed me,” Roxas snarled then
and his voice was Cloud’s, “but you won’t touch my little brother.”
Xemnas staggered back, his one remaining eye wide with terror and shock. “No!
No! I killed all of you!”
Roxas opened his mouth and laughed. “He’s broken,” he said in a voice that was
Xemnas’s. “He’s broken. Hallelujah!”
“No!” Xemnas screamed and leveled his gun at Roxas and Axel.
Axel threw himself between them, but Roxas’s hand closed on his shoulder and
jerked him back by his bandages. Axel’s head collided with the counter and
everything went fuzzy, like he was seeing it through a filter.
Roxas leaped at Xemnas one final time and the glass glinted in his palm. Xemnas
must have seen something different in that moment because rather than pull the
trigger, he cowered like a child. He screamed as Roxas jammed the glass into
his windpipe. Then, he stopped screaming and crumpled into a heap of meat.
Roxas stumbled into the edge of the table and cried out sharply, clutching at
his stomach. The glass clattered from Roxas’s hand and broke into three more
pieces on the tile floor.
Roxas dropped to his knees beside Axel and fumbled through is pocket with his
ruined hand. He opened a small cell phone that Axel didn’t recognize and
pressed one button. The light lit Roxas’s face eerily, glowing on the blood
that smeared across his skin.
“Xion,” Roxas whispered.
Axel heard Xion’s voice on the other end of the phone, rising with panic as she
shouted.
“Your dad,” Roxas whispered. “Chives, Axel… Hurt… Please, help…”
Then, Roxas handed the phone to Axel and slumped against his master’s lap. His
breath was ragged and weak. Blood seeped between his fingers, between his lips,
from his stomach. Axel put his hands on Roxas’s back and just held him as
gently as he could.
“Roxas, Roxas, please,” Axel whispered. “Stay with me.”
Roxas’s blue eyes fluttered open and he smiled weakly. “Are you okay?”
Axel nodded hastily. “Fine,” he said. “Don’t try to talk. Just… just keep
breathing. Stay with me.”
“Hallelujah,” Roxas whispered. Then, he closed his eyes and his breath rasped a
little harder. His small body hitched in pain, curling in on itself while
Xemnas bled out behind him. “Axel,” he whispered and Axel tried not to think
about how this was the first time Roxas had ever said his name.
“Yes, I’m here,” Axel said softly.
But Roxas never managed to say anything. With a stifled gasp of pain, his
fingers knotted in Axel’s jeans. Then, his heart stopped and he went limp in
Axel’s arms. An instant later, blue and red lights moved across Axel’s walls,
but it was already too late.
…
When Roxas stepped into the light, for a moment there was no one there to greet
him. He stood in the blinding brightness, shielding his eyes to no avail with
his hand, as alone as he had been his entire life. No, a little voice in his
head whispered, not his entire life.
He used to have a family. He could remember them in snippets and flashes now.
His mother’s water-colored hair, her sweet smile, the charms she was always
making for himself and his big brother… His father who looked so much like him
with the same unruly golden tresses and his strong hands… His big brother,
Cloud, who stood out stronger in Roxas’s memory… Very vaguely, he could
remember the sturdy voice of his grandfather, Ansem…
His name was Roxas Wise.
He hadn’t always been a slave.
It was then that someone walked out of the light to meet him. It took him a
moment to recognize Cloud, dressed a neat pinstriped suit with his skin glowing
healthily. Then, Roxas smiled and rushed to embrace his brother.
“Roxas,” Cloud murmured and embraced him in return. “I’m sorry. I never knew…”
“Neither did I,” Roxas whispered and tears burned in his eyes. “Where’s Mom?
What about Dad?”
Cloud gestured towards the brightest point of light and his eyes shone as if he
could see something Roxas couldn’t. “They’re here,” he said softly. “They’re
all here.”
“Where?” Roxas asked, squinting into the brightness. “I can’t see them.”
“It’s not your time yet, Roxas,” Cloud murmured and brushed back some wild
blonde hair. “You’re so young. You have so much life left that you could live…
with Axel…”
Roxas’s fingers knotted in Cloud’s suit. “No,” he pleaded. “I want to be with
you and Mom and Dad.”
Cloud shook his head. “This is why I came to meet you, just me,” he said and
gripped Roxas’s narrow shoulders. “You could live, Roxas. You could live the
life than none of us ever had. Do you realize what a chance you have? Uncle, I
mean, Xemnas is gone. You could resume our family’s work.”
“No,” Roxas whimpered. “I’m not strong enough. I’m just—”
“You were never just a slave to Axel,” Cloud said gently. “He could help you.
He would help you.” He caressed Roxas’s face, curling his hand to press Roxas’s
head against his strong chest. “And you’re strong enough. You’ve always been
strong enough. You were stronger than I was.”
Roxas shook his head, weakly fighting Cloud’s hold.
“I won’t stop you if you want to come back with me,” Cloud said. “But, please,
think about this chance. Just for a moment…”
Roxas stilled, his fingers tightening in the lapels of Cloud’s dark suit. He
could smell delicious food, sweet flowers, and clean fabric. He closed his eyes
and melted against Cloud’s warm embrace, holding on with his heart and soul.
Phantom pain and distant voices moved through the whiteness. Everything rippled
around him yet only Cloud remained constant in the shifting world. Someone
called his name.
“There’s not much time now,” Cloud whispered and looked up into the vast
whiteness and light. “You have to choose.”
Roxas clung to Cloud, thinking of his family waiting for him just beyond the
veil of bright light.
Then, he thought about what he would leave behind—Cleo, Chives, Xion and her
wonderful family… There were so many things he had never done, so many foods he
had never tasted, things he had never seen, and he wanted to experience them.
He couldn’t just forget about Axel… The redhead had done so much for him and he
was probably doing everything he could to help Roxas even now.
However, the world was dangerous for someone like Roxas. There was always
someone who would want to use him, want to own him, want to hurt him. The rest
of the Organization was still out there. Axel’s father, Luxord, was lurking in
the shadows. Certainly, he would come back to his son’s life to beg forgiveness
and that would be dangerous for Roxas.
Beyond the light, his family waited and there was safety in that light. There
would be no more pain or fear. He couldn’t imagine feeling like that. Was such
a thing even possible? Roxas had only ever known fear and pain, sometimes
pleasure that he hated as much as he wanted it. He wanted to experience more
than just that, though. He wanted to feel safe.
Roxas tightened his grasp on Cloud, a tremor running through his body.
“We’ll be here,” Cloud said tenderly and stroked Roxas’s hair. “We’ll always be
here. So, whatever you choose…”
Roxas nodded into Cloud’s chest, took a deep breath of the wonderful scents,
and finally spoke. The brightest rushed in, filling the world, and everything
rippled like water.
                                     X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review! (And panic in terror!)
***** Aftershock: Hallelujah *****
Penultimate chapter! Aftershock: Hallelujah!
                                     X X X
When Roxas opened his eyes, he was lying in a sea of flowers. For a moment,
confusion gripped him. He couldn’t remember anything of the world beyond, just
fleeting images and emotions, a choice… What had he chosen?
Then, bright cat-green eyes framed with red hair moved into his view and
smiled. “Roxas,” a familiar voice said and there was a light touch on his bare
arm. “You’re awake. You’re finally awake.”
Roxas opened his dry lips to speak and the corners of his mouth cracked. He
coughed weakly and muted pain moved through his body like a chill. Axel cupped
the back of his head and pressed a Styrofoam cup of water to the boy’s lips.
Roxas drank deeply and then Axel lowered him back against the pillows.
For a moment, Roxas only stared at Axel. The redhead looked hale and fit, his
face was flushed with color and life, and his green eyes sparkled. He was
wearing a tank top and there was a pink scar on his shoulder. The wound had
healed, but only recently.
“How long have I…?” Roxas whispered.
“About a week,” Axel said. “You were in a coma, but Xion knew you’d wake up.”
“Xion?” Roxas repeated.
Axel nodded eagerly, his face alight with happiness. “She’ll be right back.
She’s just taking out the—”
“Roxas!” Xion exclaimed. “Oh my gosh! You’re awake!” She quickly closed the
space between them with barely restrained delight and threw her arms as gently
as she could around Roxas’s shoulders. Her embrace smelled of sugar cookies,
hyacinths, and soap.
Roxas immediately hugged her in return, his fingers twisting weakly in her t-
shirt. She was so warm and he shuddered against her, tears welling in his eyes.
“—puppy,” Axel finished lamely.
Roxas realized that he could hear something barking. Xion released him, took a
moment to smile brightly at him, and reached to touch his sleep-mussed hair.
After smoothing the strands down, she bent over and picked up a squirming ball
of golden fluff. She held the puppy slightly away from Roxas by the collar,
grinning, until Roxas recognized her.
“Cleo!” he gasped.
Xion gave the puppy just enough space to lick Roxas’s face without risking
further damage to his body.
“You’ve grown so much,” Roxas giggled. “How did you…?”
“She showed up back at the villa right after…” Axel hesitated, uncertain of how
to describe what had happened at his home that night. “Well, she was a muddy
mess, but Xion cleaned her up. She’s been waiting for you to wake up with us.
We knew it was a sign when she came back. You just had to pull through.”
Roxas nodded distantly. He looked down at his hands. One was thickly wrapped in
bandages, so much so that he could barely bend his fingers and each attempted
movement sent a spear of pain through his entire arm. Vaguely, he remembered
using broken glass as a weapon and gingerly flexed his less bandaged hand. “I’m
alive,” he whispered.
Axel nodded and reached out to gingerly touch Roxas’s cheek, tucking his
fingers along the shell of his ear and brushing back some limp blonde hair.
The boy leaned into the touch, his blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. For a
moment, he and Axel just gazed at each other without speaking. Something seemed
to pass between them. Then, Roxas sniffled and asked, “Where’s Chives?”
“He’s fine,” Xion said kindly. “He’s right down the hall getting us some
coffee.”
“But that gunshot,” Roxas breathed out.
“It was aimed at the lock,” Axel explained and withdrew his hand to smooth the
blankets over Roxas’s legs. “Chives was hit by the door.”
Roxas smiled, too happy to express with words. “So,” he whispered, “everyone’s
okay…?”
“Everyone’s okay,” Axel agreed.
Roxas reached for Axel’s hand and held it as tightly as he could.
Then, the door to his hospital room swung open and there was no more time to be
concerned with the little things. Xion’s family poured into the room,
chattering and laughing, while Aerith hushed them. Once they realized Roxas was
awake, there was no silencing the explosion of excitement and relief that
followed.
Chives followed with a tray of hot coffee a moment later and almost dropped it
when he saw that Roxas was awake. “My dear boy,” he said with barely restrained
emotion. He quickly embraced the boy and the feeling of his starched suit
reminded Roxas of Cloud, though he wasn’t quite sure why.
The rest of the day passed like a party until Roxas was too tired to keep his
eyes open any longer. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the
dreams that came to Roxas were sweet rather than nightmares. He smiled as he
slept, his fingers curling weakly in the sheets.
…
Roxas had to stay in the hospital for the better part of the week. Though Axel
came to visit him every day and Xion was there at least every other, Roxas kind
of enjoyed the time he spent alone once visiting hours had ended. He spent a
lot of time thinking about his family, about his past, about everything that
had happened.
Axel had started filing the paperwork that would free Roxas from slavery and
give him back his name. Soon, Roxas would be a genuine person. It almost didn’t
seem possible after the years and years he had spent being tortured and used
and raped.
“Roxas Wise,” he murmured and looked down at his hands. Though the stitches
hadn’t been removed and the many gashes were hideous to look at, he was somehow
comforted by the sight of them. He knew that everything had been real. It
wasn’t just a dream. “I’m Roxas Wise.”
“Are you talking to yourself?” Axel asked as he elbowed into the hospital room
with a box of donuts. He set it down on Roxas’s table, opened the lid, selected
an éclair, and sat down with a sigh. “It’s warming up out there. Have a donut.”
Roxas delicately chose a pastry and nibbled the edge of it.
“Roxas?” Axel asked suddenly and there was something in his voice that made
Roxas stop eating.
“Yeah?”
“That night… with Xemnas… Right before you,” Axel hesitated.
“You can say that I killed him,” Roxas said evenly. “I did.”
Axel’s throat flashed as he swallowed. “It’s not about that.”
Roxas’s pale brow lifted and he set aside his donut to give Axel his undivided
attention.
“That night, you… you spoke in a lot of different voices. Ansem, Aqua, Cloud…”
Axel said. “How did that happened? Did you have a… spiritual experience? Out of
body or something?”
For a moment, Roxas almost laughed, but he forced himself not to. A little
smile tugged at his lips and betrayed him. “No,” he said as Axel flushed. “It
was just mimicry.”
“Mimicry?” Axel repeated and could have slapped himself. Roxas had shown his
proclivity for mimicry the night Axel bought him, perfectly repeating the
voices of his tormentors through his panic of Rufus Wainwright’s song, ‘Broken
Hallelujah.’ He had demonstrated that a few other times as well. How could Axel
have forgotten that? “I’m so stupid,” Axel said and slapped the flat of his
palm to his forehead.
Roxas tilted his head. “I don’t know why I used it,” he said. “I just… I wanted
to.”
“Well,” Axel said and wet his lips. “I think it was the perfect thing to do.
You broke Xemnas’s rage.”
Roxas nodded slowly, pensively, and his blue eyes moved out the window at the
bright morning beyond.
Axel watched him in silence for a moment. He didn’t want to tell Roxas, but
mimicking the voices of Xemnas’s brother, niece, and grandson had probably not
broken the man’s rage but his mind as well. For so long, Xemnas had been trying
to break Roxas—hallelujah—and yet Roxas had been the one to break him. All with
his peculiar talent for mimicry…
“So,” Axel said to change the subject. “The doctors said you could go home
tomorrow provided you promise not to do any heavy lifting or run a marathon.”
Roxas chuckled. “I promise not to.”
“Good,” Axel said. “This Friday are Sora and Kairi’s birthdays. Xion’s invited
us to the party. Do you want to go?”
“Sure,” Roxas said with a nod. “I’d like that.”
“Perfect,” Axel said and picked another donut from the box.
“Umm…?”
“What?” Axel asked, looking at Roxas over his snack.
“Is it… okay that I… call you Axel?” Roxas asked.
Axel swallowed and reached to take Roxas’s healing hand. “Of course,” he said
gently. “In fact, I want you to. I’ve always wanted you to, remember?”
Roxas wet his lips nervously and then nodded. “Axel,” he murmured. “Thank you
for everything.”
Axel grinned. “You’re welcome, but I didn’t do much. I should be thanking you.”
Roxas shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’ve done more than you know for me.”
Axel looked at Roxas curiously, but the boy didn’t elaborate. Instead, he
turned his attention back to his donut and didn’t talk about anything deeper
than flowers for a long while. Axel listened patiently, studying the curve of
Roxas’s pale cheek and jaw. He was healing. His skin was porcelain smooth and
perfect, his lips were full and pink, and his butter-blonde hair was tousled.
He was so beautiful and Axel tamped down the desire that welled in his chest.
…
The Gainsborough-Fair household was calamitous as usual when Axel and Roxas
pulled into the driveway on Friday. There seemed to be eight times the amount
of children running through the yard. All the snow had melted the week previous
and a few brave tulips, crocuses, and daffodils were daring to peek their heads
from beneath the protective soil. Aerith had inflated a bouncing castle in the
front yard, Zack was grilling burgers and hotdogs, and Xion was stringing up a
piñata in the large pine tree nearby.
“Hey!” Axel shouted over the ruckus as he got out of the car. “Need any help?
We brought some ice cream.”
Roxas climbed carefully out of the car, mindful of his injuries even though his
hands were mostly-healed save the deepest of the cuts.
“Hey Roxas,” Aerith called and waved to him.
With a quick glance at Axel, Roxas made his way over to her while Axel ducked
into the house to cram the ice cream into the freezer. Aerith embraced Roxas
gently and held him against her side with her arm around his shoulders.
“I heard that you’re… Aqua and Ventus’s son,” she murmured softly.
Roxas nodded.
“I knew them,” Aerith said with fondness and sorrow. “They were good people.”
“I don’t remember anything about them,” Roxas admitted. “Sometime, will you
tell me about them?”
Aerith nodded. “I’d like to do that,” she agreed. “Now, why don’t you go over
and get a hotdog from Zack? Have some fun Roxas.”
Roxas slipped away from her and crossed the lawn to where Zack was standing at
the barbecue.
“Hey,” Zack greeted. “How’re you doing, kid?”
“Okay,” Roxas said and put his hand gently over his stomach.
Zack glanced at him and nodded with understanding. “Yeah, I’ve been shot. It’s
no picnic,” he said and his eyes moved to Roxas’s battered hands. “Getting
stabbed isn’t either. I should know, but when you heal up, you get a great scar
out of it. Ladies love scars.” Zack tugged up the hem of his shirt and revealed
the very edge of the scar that bisected his chest and back. “That’s how I got
Aerith.”
A little smile tugged at Roxas’s lips.
“Here,” Zack said as he dropped cheese onto a burger and handed another to
Roxas. “Have a burger. Put some weight on, skinny kid.”
“Thank you,” Roxas said. “But I’m supposed to eat light—”
“It is light,” Zack protested. “It’s not a double-decker and it doesn’t have
bacon on it. Bah, just eat it!”
Smiling, Roxas carried the burger over to Xion just as she finished tying up
the piñata and stepped back to admire her handiwork. The piñata was vaguely
star-shaped with countless black and yellow streamers and emblazoned with
Batman’s face.
“what’s this for?” Roxas asked.
“It’s a piñata,” Xion said.
Roxas stared at her blankly, patiently.
“Don’t you know what a piñata is?” she asked.
He shook his head.
She could have smacked herself. Why would he know what a piñata was? He
probably didn’t know his own birthdate. “It’s fun,” she said lamely. “It’s full
of candy and you just whack it until it breaks open and all the candy falls
out.”
Roxas looked up at the spinning object curiously. “So, you hate this person,
right?” he asked and pointed at Batman.
“What?” Xion gasped. “No!”
For a moment, she saw a flicker of old fear cross Roxas’s face and it hung
there like a cloud blocking the sun. He was thinking about all the people who
had beaten him over the years, calling it a game and saying how delightful it
was so see his blood. Visibly, Roxas pushed these memories away and looked up
at the piñata with wide blue eyes.
“It’s just for fun, Roxas,” she said firmly and reached to put her hand on his
shoulder. “It’s only paper and there’s candy inside. It doesn’t… mean anything.
Okay?”
Roxas put his hand over hers and nodded, smiling brightly. “I understand,
Xion,” he assured her.
With a breath of relief, Xion embraced him and then tucked a daffodil behind
his ear. “So, Roxas,” she said without too much expatiation in her voice.
“When’s your birthday?”
“May 30th,” Roxas said evenly. (1)
Xion gaped at him, unable to disguise her shock.
He grinned, taking pleasure in her surprise. “Now that I know who I am, it’s
easy to find out things like that,” he told her. “Plus, Axel needed it for the
paperwork to free me.”
Xion’s mouth snapped closed with an audible click. “When do those papers go
through?” she asked.
“In a few weeks,” Roxas said. “Axel told me there’s a lot of bureaucratic red
tape that it has to get through. Politics and all that jazz.”
Xion nodded distantly, still surprised that Roxas had known his birthday. She
squinted at him. “What else do you know?”
“Slugs have four noses,” he said plainly.
“Eww! Why?” Xion demanded. “They crawl around in slime and eat dirt!”
Roxas smiled at her cheekily. Then, he tipped his head back and laughed as if
he was making up for lost time.
Having put away the ice cream, Axel walked over to join them. Sora and Kairi
ducked between his long legs, giggling, and a hoard of their friends went
screaming after them. Axel stumbled and steadied himself with a hand on Xion’s
shoulder. “Your house is a wreck,” he said. “I hope you know that.”
She shrugged. “The twins will only turn eight once,” she said. “Besides, many
hands make light work and we certainly have many hands here.”
“I’ll help too,” Roxas offered.
“I’ll get Chives to help,” Axel said with a wide stretch. “I don’t do
housework.”
Xion smacked Axel in the exposed stomach with the flat of her hand and he
jolted with surprise. “You’re such a prince, Axel,” she said flatly. “How does
Roxas put up with you? You know, Roxas, you know you can move in with me
whenever you want. Dad is considering adding onto the house so we’ll have more
space.”
“Thanks, but I’m trying to give Axel a chance,” Roxas said and glanced at Axel
with a warm smile. “Besides, I’m happy with Axel.”
Axel grinned at Roxas and slung an arm around the boy’s narrow shoulders,
tugging him close against his side. Roxas didn’t pull away and rested his hand
just above Axel’s hipbone. After a moment, he turned his head upwards and
smiled at Axel. Though Xion suddenly had a feeling she should turn away, that
what was going to happen next was private and precious, she couldn’t tear her
eyes away. Slowly, Roxas rose onto his toes and pressed his lips ever so
lightly against Axel’s in the briefest of kisses.
Axel froze, his hands clenching convulsively in the material of Roxas’s shirt.
Then, he brought his hand up to cradle the back of Roxas’s head as he deepened
the kiss by fractions. Roxas’s blue eyes fluttered closed with unspeakable
trust, and his shoulders relaxed in Axel’s embrace. His small scarred hands
closed in Axel’s shirt and tugged him a little closer. Then, like two
butterflies parting from a flower, they broke apart and looked into each
other’s eyes.
Xion let her breath out softly, stunned by what she had just witnessed. Axel
gazed down at Roxas, his green eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. With an
easy smile, as if nothing had happened, Roxas ran his fingers through his hair
and walked away.
“Did you see…?” Axel whispered to Xion.
She nodded, her hair tickling her cheeks.
“He just kissed…”
Again, she nodded.
Together, they watched Roxas’s back as he disappeared within the cacophony of
the party at the Gainsborough-Fair household. The golden sunlight streamed down
on them, melting everything it touched, including the frozen heart of one boy.
The dark clouds that had surrounded Roxas for so much of his life were finally
fading, making room for everything else. A warm breeze scented with flowers and
cake danced across the lawn like a lovely spirit.
                                     X X X
(1) Since I couldn’t find Roxas’s birthday and I didn’t want to just give him
Sora’s, I chose May 30th for his birthday. It’s the original release date for
Kingdom Hearts: 358/2 Days which was Roxas’s primary game and I think his first
real appearance in the series.
At this point in life, I don’t remember who requested that there be a birthday
party, but… you got your wish! (Maybe… I don’t remember much of what you
actually wanted to see. I only wrote down ‘Birthday Party’ in my notes for the
future.)
Questions, comments, concerns?
Review!
***** The Greatest Gift *****
FINAL CHAPTER! I have never been so happy to finally reach the end of a story!
                                     X X X
In typical government fashion, it took six weeks for the paperwork that freed
Roxas to arrive. In that time frame, Roxas grew ever closer to Axel. Without
the constant fear looming over his head, Roxas proved to be a sweet and
passionate fifteen-year-old boy. Beneath Axel’s tender hands, he melted like
frost under rays of sunshine. Roxas reminded Axel of an abused dog. Though
frightened, he had so much love to give and he wanted nothing more than to do
so.
“Check it out, Roxas!” Axel shouted as he came in from the mailbox.
Roxas peered around the threshold of the kitchen and his eyes lit upon the
manila envelope bearing the government seal. He immediately beamed and rushed
to Axel happily. “Is that…?”
“Here!” Axel said eagerly. “Open it.”
Roxas tore the folder open and dumped the contents on the kitchen table.
Amongst all the paperwork and legal mumbo-jumbo, Roxas picked up with shaking
hands a single glossy object. It was an ID card bearing his photograph and full
name. Tears welled in his eyes as he gazed at it.
Axel tucked his fingers along Roxas’s cheek and asked soothingly, “Are you
okay?”
Roxas nodded and then threw his arms gratefully around Axel’s waist. He buried
his face against Axel’s broad chest, sniffling, for a long moment. Then, he
rose up onto his toes and pressed a deep kiss to Axel’s lips. With a quiet
moan, Axel opened his mouth and snaked his tongue into Roxas’s warm cavern,
cradling the back of the boy’s head.
Gently, Roxas pushed him away and smiled coyly at him. “Not right now,” he said
gingerly. “Tonight.”
The blood rushed south and Axel’s jeans were suddenly too tight. “Tonight?” he
repeated.
Roxas nodded and nervously smoothed his hands along his shirt. “That is… if you
want to…”
Axel swept Roxas into his arms and hugged him tightly, feeling all the contours
and curves of his healed body. “I want to,” he breathed against the side of
Roxas’s pale neck. “Oh, I want to, but… only if you want to, Roxas. You don’t
owe me anything. You don’t have to…”
“I want to,” Roxas whispered. “Really… I do.”
Axel nodded, hoping his expression didn’t betray just how badly he wanted
Roxas. Over the course of the past six weeks, their relationship had developed
into what Axel had always intended it to be, but it was different now. Roxas
wasn’t his slave. Roxas was a genuine person—a person who would someday lead
the remains of his grandfather’s rebellion against slavery, a person who
deserved all the care and concern Axel had to give, a beautiful warm-hearted
person.
“Tonight,” Roxas said again with a small nervous smile. “After dinner. Come up
to my room.”
Axel nodded eagerly, but he could help the impatient words that escaped his
lips. “Why not now?”
Roxas smiled at him. “You’re so spoiled. It will do you good to wait for
something, Axel,” he said. “Later, after dinner, tonight.”
Mechanically, Axel nodded and watched the sway of Roxas’s hips as he turned and
walked away.
The boy climbed the stairs slowly, trying to calm the nervous fluttering of his
heart. Even though he wanted this badly, he was still worried that it would
hurt or that it would be like all the other times he had been taken. He knew
Axel would be gentle, but maybe something like this would never truly feel
good. Roxas let himself into his room, set his ID on the dresser, and walked
over to the mirror on his closet door.
With shaking hands, he pulled off his clothes and scrutinized his naked body.
Though his skeleton frame had filled in and become toned with muscle, he was
still slender and fragile. While the bruises had faded, the scars remained. His
skin was a map of all the cruelties he had suffered over the years. Every slash
or burn left an indelible mark on his skin like ink on the white paper. The
scar the bisected his chest, the burns that peppered his arms and torso, the
lashes of a whip across his back and shoulders, the crescents of fingernails
inside his thighs and on his hips—each was a permanent reminder of what he had
been through.
Gingerly, Roxas ran his fingertips along each scar, over the protruding bones
of his hips, down his soft length, and across the swell of his bottom. Then,
taking in a deep breath, he went to the nightstand beside the bed and pulled
out the bottle of lubricant that he had found a few weeks back when he was
cleaning the room. It was strange to think that Axel and his brother, Cloud,
had once been lovers. They must have used this same lubricant, but Roxas didn’t
feel slighted. In fact, it brought a little smile to his face.
He held the bottle in his hands and then removed the string of beads from the
drawer. How long ago had it been since those beads had been painfully forced
inside his small body? The merchant at the Puppy Mill liked to keep something
inside Roxas to keep him thinking about how his body didn’t belong to him, to
remind him that he could be taken at any moment, to keep him afraid. Roxas
pushed those memories away and took a deep breath as he felt their weight in
his hands.
Now, the thought of putting these beads inside his body to please Axel sent a
throb of overheated blood to his member. Flushing, Roxas took the lubricant and
the string of beads to the bathroom. He closed and locked the door behind
himself and leaned against the vanity for a moment, breathing softly. He turned
on the warm water in the shower and stepped beneath the spray. With practiced
ease, Roxas lathered his skin until it glowed and then scrubbed his fingers
through his hair.
Once he rinsed away all the soap, he stood beneath the cascade for a long time.
The warm water relaxed his stiff muscles even as his length continued to harden
with the thought of what was to come that night. For the first time, he would
be with someone because he wanted to and not even as master and slave, but as
two complete people. He would be with Axel for the first time and he wanted
that. He wanted that so much.
Inhaling deeply, Roxas ran his hand over the swell of his buttocks and slipped
his fingers into the crevice between his cheeks. Gently, he ran the pad of his
index finger over the sensitive bud and pressed gently. His body opened and he
slipped his wet finger inside. His muscles clenched around the familiar
intrusion, but Roxas was far more gentle with himself than any master had ever
been. Softly, he added a second finger and stretched his muscles.
His body shuddered, little spikes of heat and pleasure going directly to his
groin. Roxas leaned against the wall of the shower, the water pouring down over
his back and shoulders. He thrust his two fingers slightly and pressed against
the tiny bundle of nerves just inside his opening. He wanted to prepare himself
and also be certain that he would enjoy this before he lay beneath Axel. If
there was something he liked, he wanted to be able to tell the redhead.
Thrusting his fingers deeper and faster, Roxas began to pant. His member rose
up like a fern seeking sunlight, throbbing in time with his heartbeat and the
movement of his wet fingers. Roxas bent against the wall of the shower and
reached his other hand down to gently stroke his member. He gasped in pleasure
and bucked his hips forward. The pleasure built up in his chest like breath,
pressing against his ribs and throat. He moaned softly and stroked the
sensitive nerves inside his sheath.
With a soft cry, his orgasm rocked him. Streams of pearly seed splattered
against the wall and were quickly washed away by the water. Breathing hard,
Roxas withdrew his fingers and washed them off. He washed his body again,
paying extra attention to his opened core. He wanted everything to be perfect
for Axel.
Roxas shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Vigorously drying his
honeyed hair, he toweled off. The fluffy material ghosted along his
oversensitive member and made him gasp. Then, he hung up the towel and leaned
against the vanity. The beads and the bottle of lubricant waited for him,
patient and hungry.
Swallowing back a spike of arousal, Roxas squeezed some lubricant onto the
beads and stroked it all along them until they glistened. Then, he spread more
lube on his fingers and massaged it into his opening. Slickened, Roxas eased
the first and smallest bead inside himself. The feeling was familiar and not
altogether unwelcome. Roxas guided in the second bead into his body, then the
third and fourth. The string of beads was roughly ten inches long and the final
bead was the largest.
Breathing deeply, Roxas slipped the last bead inside himself. His muscles
clenched around the familiar intrusion and he tugged the string lightly to seat
the balls securely inside himself. The final ball rested against his prostate,
sending delightful waves of pleasure all through his body. Roxas redressed,
leaving the beads inside his body. He smiled as he looked in the mirror. It was
his little secret, his gift to Axel, and he couldn’t wait for tonight.
…
Axel was so excited, he could barely eat the meatloaf and mashed potatoes that
Chives had prepared. He kept glancing up from his plate to gaze at Roxas as the
sun set beyond the windows. Fireflies danced in the twilight, winking on and
off. Roxas met Axel’s green eyes and smiled demurely. His cheeks dimpled and he
shifted in his seat, lips parting to release a little gasp that went directly
between Axel’s legs. He crossed them and hoped that Chives wouldn’t notice the
bulge.
Unfortunately, Chives noticed everything. “Oh, would you two just get a room
already?” the butler demanded. “You’re driving me crazy. Whatever kinky thing
you have planned, just get to it and let me eat in peace.”
Roxas had the decency to blush, but Axel practically jumped from his chair.
“Sorry, Chives,” Roxas said as he put aside his napkin. He rose from his seat,
took Axel’s hand, and led the redhead upstairs to his bedroom. Roxas eased the
door closed behind them and locked it even though he doubted Chives would come
upstairs to check on them. “Sit here,” Roxas murmured and turned down the
covers on his bed.
Axel could barely sit. He was too eager, but he did as Roxas asked.
The boy stepped back and slowly peeled his t-shirt over his head. Though Axel
had seen Roxas naked several times before, his pale skin was no less beautiful
now. Axel’s hands itched with the desire to touch him. Then, Roxas unfastened
the snap of his jeans and slipped them down his hips. He was too nervous to
tease Axel and quickly tugged down his boxers. Naked, Roxas approached Axel.
His cheeks were stained pink as he lifted his leg to straddle Axel.
“I put something inside myself,” Roxas whispered.
Axel hadn’t thought he could get any harder, but those words proved him wrong.
Wrapping his arms around Roxas’s naked back, Axel pulled him closer and kissed
him deeply. Roxas sighed in bliss and Axel felt some of the tension leave the
boy’s body. He reached between Roxas’s legs and squeezed his hardening shaft
gently. Then, he slipped his hand further back and felt the little string brush
along his palm. He grasped it and tugged. Roxas gasped, his back arching, and
Axel rasped his tongue over the boy’s sensitive nipple.
“Are these… those beads…?” Axel asked, working the little string in a wide
circle that made Roxas’s hips buck uncontrollably as the largest bead rubbed
his prostate.
Roxas nodded breathlessly. “Yes.”
Axel didn’t mention how he had first found those beads and instead pulled hard
enough for the first bead to slide out of Roxas’s tight body with a wet pop.
Roxas yelped and clutched Axel’s shoulders. His little member pressed forward,
hard and impatient. Axel caressed Roxas’s bare back and tugged a second bead
free. Roxas dipped his head and kissed Axel deeply, but he couldn’t hold the
contact as Axel pulled a third and fourth bead free.
“You did this for me?” Axel asked as he eased the final bead from Roxas’s body.
Panting and trembling with pleasure, Roxas could only nod. “Y-yes,” he
whispered. “I want… I wanted it to be perfect.”
“It’s already perfect,” Axel murmured and kissed Roxas’s lips. “It would have
been no matter what.”
Roxas blushed adorably and reached for the bottle of lubricant that he had put
on his nightstand. Axel took it from his shaking fingers, pulled off his t-
shirt, and freed his shaft from his jeans. He squeezed some lubricant into
Roxas’s hands and let the boy rub it all along his hard length. The boy’s hands
were heaven, so soft and yet firm enough to drive Axel wild. Sufficiently
slickened, Roxas shifted forward so that the head of Axel’s member was pressed
to his prepared opening.
“Roxas,” Axel said suddenly and cupped the boy’s face in his long-fingered
hands. “Are you certain?”
Roxas stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. Then, he smiled beautifully
and nodded. “I’m sure,” he said. “I want you to, Axel.”
Axel kissed him tenderly as he slid into Roxas’s tight heat. It was everything
he had ever imagined it would be. Roxas threw his head back and gasped in
delight. Axel slid in slowly and gently, giving Roxas plenty of time to adjust
to the girth and length. Then, his hips met Roxas’s bottom and the boy’s breath
rushed out.
“I’m inside you completely, Roxas,” Axel whispered. “Can you feel it?”
Roxas nodded and shifted his hips experimentally.
Axel moaned. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Roxas whispered. “Please, let me feel it.”
Axel didn’t need to be told twice. He began to move with all the passion he had
restrained since he had bought Roxas. He thrust hard and deep into the boy’s
pliant body, lavishing kisses along his collarbones and throat. He nipped and
suckled, rubbed his thumbs over Roxas’s nipples, and caressed every inch of
scarred skin that he could reach. Roxas’s member bobbed between their bodies
and Axel gripped it firmly, stroking in time with his deep thrusts.
Roxas could only cling to Axel’s shoulders and ride out the euphoric waves of
feelings. Every nerve was warm with pleasure and delight. He kissed Axel, his
tongue lapping along Axel’s lips and teeth. He rocked his hips in an attempt to
meet Axel’s thrusts. It felt so good. There was nothing of the pain or fear he
was used to. He was warm in Axel’s arms, safe and loved. His body burned as
Axel caressed his small member, rolling his thumb over the tip.
Axel could feel his orgasm building and thrust more frantically into Roxas.
Suddenly, his shaft brushed something inside Roxas that made the boy shiver and
cry out. He stroked a little faster and angled his hips to hit that spot again
and again. He ran this hot tongue over a crop of healed burns at the base of
Roxas’s throat. He brought Roxas to the peak with him as easily as he would
have brought himself. With a cry, Roxas came and Axel spilled hot inside him.
Breathing hard, Axel wrapped his arms around Roxas’s back and held him tightly.
He kissed Roxas, cradling him as he softened inside the boy’s body. Roxas
leaned against him trustingly, breathing hot and moist against Axel’s throat.
Gently, Axel laid Roxas down on the bed and cuddled up beside him. He drew the
blankets over both of them and held him tenderly.
“Roxas,” Axel murmured, “was it good for you? Was it okay? I didn’t hurt you,
right?”
Roxas nodded sleepily and nuzzled closer against Axel’s bare chest. “It was
wonderful,” he whispered. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“That’s how it should feel,” Axel assured him and stroked Roxas’s pale hair
back from his face. “And it always will.”
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” he whispered. Roxas pressed a
kiss to the center of Axel’s chest. “Axel, I…” he hesitated, wetting his lips.
“I love you.”
For a moment, the words hung between them. Roxas began to squirm nervously,
trying to free himself from Axel’s tight embrace, but the redhead crushed him
closer until he found his voice. He leaned down and kissed Roxas’s cheeks,
forehead, nose, and throat. Then, with an even smile, Axel kissed his lips and
slipped his tongue into the moist cavern.
When he pulled back, he said, “I love you too.”
Tears welled in Roxas’s eyes and he buried his face into Axel’s bare skin.
For a long time, they lay together in silence until the last of the stars
emerged through the twilight. Roxas fell asleep quickly, emotionally and
physically exhausted by the day’s events, but Axel was awake for much longer.
He held the boy in his arms, cradling and stroking his hair. He thought about
everything that had happened and tucked Roxas’s head beneath his chin.
There were three indisputable facts in Axel Inferno’s life.
The first two involved Roxas. The boy, though fragile and broken, was the light
of Axel’s life. He was a beautiful boy, happy and smiling even though he had
been through more than most people could even fathom. He spent so much time
playing with Cleo, helping Chives, and caring for Axel. He had given his blood
to save Axel’s life and given his body to Axel in a display of absolute trust
and love.
Though so many terrible things had happened since Roxas’s purchase, the third
indisputable fact was that Axel wouldn’t have traded any of it for the world.
                                     X X X
Oh my freaking god! I have never been so happy to see the end of a story. This
has been the bane of my existence since I started it the first time!
Also, I’m aware that this lemon is a little unrealistic for their first time
after everything Roxas has been through, but I don’t really care. I wanted it
to be super kinky for everyone who stuck with this beast and I also wanted to
reuse the beads I wrote into the early chapters. So, suspend your belief a
little bit and just be happy I finished this hateful horrible monster!
First, drop me a REVIEW and let me know what you think. The final chapter is
the most important one for reviews!
Second, I own nothing except my original plotline and my original characters
(which I believe is only Chives).
Third, there will be NO SEQUEL! So don’t even ask!
Fourth, please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! The Breaking of Poisonwood
by Paradise Avenger. (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a
slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new
life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when
Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior…
Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we
discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to
his advantage. The Poisonwood—)
Questions, comments, concerns?
So, I bid you adieu.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!