At first Renji didn't realize that something was amiss; he was used to being escorted around by a couple of orderlies at all times at this point. But then they didn't lead him toward the green house, or even the sun room.
He stumbled mid-step as a wave of utter panic hit him; years of discipline helped him fight it down before he did something really stupid, like attacking the orderlies. This time, at least, he wasn't going in half drugged out of his mind. He forced one foot to move, then the other, and kept walking as he shoved all of the fear and inconvenient thoughts aside, searching for and ultimately finding the strange calm that came with a fight.
Because this would be a fight. With his fear shoved aside, he remembered the pen, still tucked in the waistband of his pants and hidden from plain sight. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it would do.
Silently, he went to the office and went inside. He stood still, expression calm as he waited for the orderlies to leave. Rather than thinking about the man behind the desk, he concentrated on the distance between them and just how long it would take for him to cover it and insert the pen into Muraki's neck.
Muraki smiled at the orderlies, assuring them that despite his record Mr. Brothers had been perfectly obliging towards him and there would be no need to interrupt. Once they shut the door behind them, the silence was deafening.
Muraki didn't move from where he was seated behind the desk, but he inspected Kyle openly from head to toe. There was nothing beneath those clothes he hadn't already seen, but it was nice to remember. "Good afternoon, Mr. Brothers. I'm glad you look so well today."
Renji said nothing; he mentally counted five seconds, enough time for the orderlies to be far enough away down the hall.
He gave no warning, simply lunging forward, one hand whipping the pen out from his waistband. He flicked the cap off as he leapt onto the the desk. His eyes were fixed on Muraki's neck, where he intended to stab.
Muraki gave little warning, the slight widening of his eyes and perhaps a not-quite-sane smirk that accompanied it. This spell wasn't subtle in the least. At the moment the lights died the room lit up violet, a double pentagram taking up the entire floor of the office.
A single, much smaller pentagram bound Kyle in place on his desk, hands snapped up above his head just as he was about to reach the doctor's throat, his feet held in place so that he couldn't move from the kneeling position.
Still reclining in his chair, the doctor sighed, crossed his legs, and tilted his head up to look at his newly captured pray. "Ah, Renji. I know you enjoy being tied up, but haven't you ever heard of forplay?"
Renji fought down the stab of panic that he felt. He hadn't spent most of his life going from fight to fight to let his feelings get away from him now, no matter what the situation. This didn't mean that he was beaten; he didn't give up, and he certainly wouldn't stop fighting in the face of this bastard.
"Eat shit and die," he hissed.
For a moment he held completely still, trying to gather his reiatsu. Even bound, he had some power; maybe he could break Muraki's spell.
"Eloquent." Muraki purred, finally standing so he could move more freely. He brushed his fingers from the knee to the inside Kyle's thigh, where his hand came to rest against the cloth. He pushed outward steadily, forcing Kyle's legs open a bit more.
But of course, he was only teasing.
He reached for the hem of Kyle's shirt instead, beginning to pull it up and out of the way. He had nothing to fear after all: he would have sensed something supernatural about Kyle and prepared for it if it had been necessary. The only precaution he'd taken this time was using a binding spell he'd done before. It was only easy to break if one knew where to hit it - at the five points on the pentagram spread across the floor. But Kyle would be doing no moving today, so the doctor remained utterly unconcerned.
Renji steadfastly refused to think of anything but how he was going to escape and then rip off Muraki's head. He clamped down tightly on his own feelings, focusing just on the anger and ignoring the utter panic that was trying to assert itself.
When Muraki touched him, however, that didn't stop him from really, really wanting to throw up.
No. This isn't going to happen again.
Before Rukia had been adopted, she'd thought it was funny to toss binding spells on him to practice. He'd gotten good at breaking out, just by grace of overpowering them. It wasn't delicate, but it worked. And this time, all he really needed to do was gain control of one of his hands, if briefly.
He sent his spirit surging against the binding spell, trying to tear it apart even with his muted strength. There was no art to it, just raw power. If it worked, he'd be tapped out, but still able to fight. And if it didn't work... well, it wouldn't matter then.
It didn't take much to break a spell that simple. Kyle's blind burst of power was both unexpected and strong enough to shatter two of the five anchor points. Even a normal bullet could have done the same. If he'd aimed well, he could have broken free. The spell flickered and weakened, but held for the moment.
Muraki recovered more quickly. Careless as it might have been to assume, he wasn't stupid. He moved back enough to pull a drawer open. The needle was already loaded when he pulled it out; something for later that would need to be used now.
"My my, aren't you surprising." The purr in his voice had turned into something like a growl - the doctor was annoyed, Kyle had succeeded in that much. Without preamble, he stabbed it into Kyle's shoulder and emptied it.
A strong sedative. Let him fight now. He wouldn't be strong enough or lucid enough to do any damage.
Renji didn't bother feeling elated with his success; summoning up that much power already had his head spinning.
Muraki was out of the way too fast, though, and was fishing for something in his desk. Renji tried to summon up another surge of reiatsu; he could feel the spell weakening.
Too slow...
As the needle plunged into his shoulder, he looked at Muraki and simply said, "Go fuck yourself."
Muraki calmly pulled the needle out and returned it to the drawer. He had a fair amount of work to do before the hour was up, and he really should stop dallying. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and rolled up the selves of his shirt to keep them out of the way.
He smiled cruelly at Kyle's useless defiance. "Would you like me to find some way to keep your mouth occupied? Perhaps with a piece of your charming roommate as the gag? Or," It was easy enough to slip the scalpel from that morning out of his drawer. "I can relive you of that sharp tongue."
The doctor didn't bluff, but he also didn't have the time to waste waiting there for an answer. He let his fingers brush against Kyle's sides as he pulled the shirt up to his wrists. It was easy enough to begin from there. He slipped his fingers just beneath the waistband of Kyle's pants, gripping his side hard enough to leave a deep bruise. The scalpel only made a small cut but he spread the blood across the man's own intricate tattoos, his lips moving in in a soundless chant. The pain, he knew, would be exquisite.
Renji hadn't been the king of witty banter in the face of insurmountable odds to begin with; his thoughts already grinding to a halt thanks to the sedative, he couldn't think of anything nasty to say in return to Muraki's latest threat. He settled on spitting on the floor in disgust, since he could still do that decently no matter how many drugs he got put on.
Really, if the man wanted to cut out his tongue, it would make his day. He had people that could heal him, or he could even try to fix himself. And it would be at least interesting to see what sort of lie the guy could come up with for that sort of thing. And pain... pain was a good distraction.
Renji wasn't sure what Muraki did next, but he felt the wet of blood against the familiar lines of his tattoos. Even if he was becoming rapidly incoherent, he still felt disgusted that something he'd worked so hard for, something that was so important to him, was being touched by filth.
Then the pain hit. For a moment, Renji gritted his teeth against it. Sluggishly, he sorted through his options; he couldn't fight, but he could still annoy, perhaps...
He rolled his eyes up to give Muraki a look that was defiant, even if unfocused. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Then he grabbed hold of the pain and screamed it out.
It wasn't much of a scream, all things considered, not with his muscles going slack. He probably wouldn't be able to get more than a dull moan out in a minute. But it was something.
Muraki didn't even pause at the scream, didn't look up despite the slight smirk that edged his lips as they moved. When he finished the tattoos on Kyle's chest, he moved up to the face and paused for a moment, his hand resting on the man's cheek.
"Did I mention nobody can hear you? You should have done that last week. Now behave or I'll spank you when we're done here."
The face and neck, and then past the waist. Wherever Kyle's tattoos touched, Muraki's fingers followed weaving the spell into them. Alternately, he used his free hand to grip Kyle's body. Arm, waist, leg...he wasn't shy about where he left bruises.
Renji didn't bother trying to scream any more, instead taking the pain silently and using it to fuel his anger. He didn't have the energy or control over his body. He did manage to spit, one last time, when Muraki's face was in range. He expected retaliation, but it was something to do, at least, some way to say that he wasn't giving up even if drugs had caused his body to betray him utterly.
With nothing left that he could do, he kept his eyes fixed straight ahead and refused to acknowledge what was being done to him. Whatever it was... well, so far it just hurt. Which made it preferable to last time, as far as he was concerned.
It was almost the same as the morning, as far as Muraki was concerned. They held together and thought themselves so defiant until that door opened again and they realized the real horror of what had transpired. That was fine. The good doctor was patient.
He only wiped the spit off and continued until the last tattoo was covered from that first drop of blood. It would fade out after this, everything except the initial cut that would heal on its own.
"Finished. That wasn't so bad was it?" He almost purred from behind Kyle There was one last thing to attend to. Muraki brought his hand back and did exactly as he promised: he slapped Kyle's ass hard enough to leave a decent bruise. (He gave it a little squeeze too, but it was so cute and firm that was hard to resist.) "Don't worry, we'll get to this in our own sweet time."
He tugged the shirt back down, re-adjusted the pants then, finally, stepped away and deactivated the last of his binding spell. The nurses would be in soon enough and it wouldn't be a good idea for them to see his idea of life-touching therapy.
Even as a barely conscious, drooling wreck, Renji was aware enough to catalog the slap on the ass as just one more reason he was going to rip off Muraki's head and piss down his neck. In his befuddled way, he was all too happy to see the orderlies enter the room to drag him off.
He stumbled mid-step as a wave of utter panic hit him; years of discipline helped him fight it down before he did something really stupid, like attacking the orderlies. This time, at least, he wasn't going in half drugged out of his mind. He forced one foot to move, then the other, and kept walking as he shoved all of the fear and inconvenient thoughts aside, searching for and ultimately finding the strange calm that came with a fight.
Because this would be a fight. With his fear shoved aside, he remembered the pen, still tucked in the waistband of his pants and hidden from plain sight. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it would do.
Silently, he went to the office and went inside. He stood still, expression calm as he waited for the orderlies to leave. Rather than thinking about the man behind the desk, he concentrated on the distance between them and just how long it would take for him to cover it and insert the pen into Muraki's neck.
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Muraki didn't move from where he was seated behind the desk, but he inspected Kyle openly from head to toe. There was nothing beneath those clothes he hadn't already seen, but it was nice to remember. "Good afternoon, Mr. Brothers. I'm glad you look so well today."
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He gave no warning, simply lunging forward, one hand whipping the pen out from his waistband. He flicked the cap off as he leapt onto the the desk. His eyes were fixed on Muraki's neck, where he intended to stab.
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A single, much smaller pentagram bound Kyle in place on his desk, hands snapped up above his head just as he was about to reach the doctor's throat, his feet held in place so that he couldn't move from the kneeling position.
Still reclining in his chair, the doctor sighed, crossed his legs, and tilted his head up to look at his newly captured pray. "Ah, Renji. I know you enjoy being tied up, but haven't you ever heard of forplay?"
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"Eat shit and die," he hissed.
For a moment he held completely still, trying to gather his reiatsu. Even bound, he had some power; maybe he could break Muraki's spell.
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But of course, he was only teasing.
He reached for the hem of Kyle's shirt instead, beginning to pull it up and out of the way. He had nothing to fear after all: he would have sensed something supernatural about Kyle and prepared for it if it had been necessary. The only precaution he'd taken this time was using a binding spell he'd done before. It was only easy to break if one knew where to hit it - at the five points on the pentagram spread across the floor. But Kyle would be doing no moving today, so the doctor remained utterly unconcerned.
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When Muraki touched him, however, that didn't stop him from really, really wanting to throw up.
No. This isn't going to happen again.
Before Rukia had been adopted, she'd thought it was funny to toss binding spells on him to practice. He'd gotten good at breaking out, just by grace of overpowering them. It wasn't delicate, but it worked. And this time, all he really needed to do was gain control of one of his hands, if briefly.
He sent his spirit surging against the binding spell, trying to tear it apart even with his muted strength. There was no art to it, just raw power. If it worked, he'd be tapped out, but still able to fight. And if it didn't work... well, it wouldn't matter then.
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Muraki recovered more quickly. Careless as it might have been to assume, he wasn't stupid. He moved back enough to pull a drawer open. The needle was already loaded when he pulled it out; something for later that would need to be used now.
"My my, aren't you surprising." The purr in his voice had turned into something like a growl - the doctor was annoyed, Kyle had succeeded in that much. Without preamble, he stabbed it into Kyle's shoulder and emptied it.
A strong sedative. Let him fight now. He wouldn't be strong enough or lucid enough to do any damage.
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Muraki was out of the way too fast, though, and was fishing for something in his desk. Renji tried to summon up another surge of reiatsu; he could feel the spell weakening.
Too slow...
As the needle plunged into his shoulder, he looked at Muraki and simply said, "Go fuck yourself."
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He smiled cruelly at Kyle's useless defiance. "Would you like me to find some way to keep your mouth occupied? Perhaps with a piece of your charming roommate as the gag? Or," It was easy enough to slip the scalpel from that morning out of his drawer. "I can relive you of that sharp tongue."
The doctor didn't bluff, but he also didn't have the time to waste waiting there for an answer. He let his fingers brush against Kyle's sides as he pulled the shirt up to his wrists. It was easy enough to begin from there. He slipped his fingers just beneath the waistband of Kyle's pants, gripping his side hard enough to leave a deep bruise. The scalpel only made a small cut but he spread the blood across the man's own intricate tattoos, his lips moving in in a soundless chant. The pain, he knew, would be exquisite.
Reply
Really, if the man wanted to cut out his tongue, it would make his day. He had people that could heal him, or he could even try to fix himself. And it would be at least interesting to see what sort of lie the guy could come up with for that sort of thing. And pain... pain was a good distraction.
Renji wasn't sure what Muraki did next, but he felt the wet of blood against the familiar lines of his tattoos. Even if he was becoming rapidly incoherent, he still felt disgusted that something he'd worked so hard for, something that was so important to him, was being touched by filth.
Then the pain hit. For a moment, Renji gritted his teeth against it. Sluggishly, he sorted through his options; he couldn't fight, but he could still annoy, perhaps...
He rolled his eyes up to give Muraki a look that was defiant, even if unfocused. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Then he grabbed hold of the pain and screamed it out.
It wasn't much of a scream, all things considered, not with his muscles going slack. He probably wouldn't be able to get more than a dull moan out in a minute. But it was something.
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"Did I mention nobody can hear you? You should have done that last week. Now behave or I'll spank you when we're done here."
The face and neck, and then past the waist. Wherever Kyle's tattoos touched, Muraki's fingers followed weaving the spell into them. Alternately, he used his free hand to grip Kyle's body. Arm, waist, leg...he wasn't shy about where he left bruises.
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With nothing left that he could do, he kept his eyes fixed straight ahead and refused to acknowledge what was being done to him. Whatever it was... well, so far it just hurt. Which made it preferable to last time, as far as he was concerned.
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He only wiped the spit off and continued until the last tattoo was covered from that first drop of blood. It would fade out after this, everything except the initial cut that would heal on its own.
"Finished. That wasn't so bad was it?" He almost purred from behind Kyle There was one last thing to attend to. Muraki brought his hand back and did exactly as he promised: he slapped Kyle's ass hard enough to leave a decent bruise. (He gave it a little squeeze too, but it was so cute and firm that was hard to resist.) "Don't worry, we'll get to this in our own sweet time."
He tugged the shirt back down, re-adjusted the pants then, finally, stepped away and deactivated the last of his binding spell. The nurses would be in soon enough and it wouldn't be a good idea for them to see his idea of life-touching therapy.
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