Who: Nataku [
soulparadox ] , Nagi [
striginae ] & Genkaku [
hypermonk ] later
Where: Liebert mansion basement
When: Late evening, shortly after
this conversation.Summary: A murder attempt of the well-meaning sort. (Good intentions alone never saved anyone.)
Rating: T
(
HIDING in the light, shut my eyes TIGHT, talking to the WALL, WAITING for your CALL ; would you be ALIVE? would you TAKE my side, blinded by GREED, are you SATISFIED? )
"Do you believe that there is any reason to be afraid of the dark?" Nataku paused, head tilted slightly as though he heard an odd noise. "No. I am certain that there is nothing within the dark to be particularly concerned with. Yet knowing this, I still believe there are bugs and black that can devour someone. It may be a hallucination or residue from partaking in medication that I should not have ingested." As he spoke, he stabbed the macaroni with a fork before holding it out to Nagi's hand; doing his part to help.
He looked to the door for a moment, paused in his actions as though he heard something, before returning to the conversation. "It is merely a thought that I had. I need you to answer it relatively quickly." No need to explain that he would rather not have Genkaku enter while they were conversing with one another. The man seemed smart enough to be able to figure out that out for himself. And while Nataku felt a little rushed and decided that there was no real way that he could recover from his sudden phobia so quickly, he did wish to make this a nice last moment for Nagi at least.
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But -- darkness. It was an odd question. Given the way Nataku seemed to operate strictly on logic and reason, a fear of the dark was something of an anomaly. And Nagi thought for a moment, his breathing slow and horase, wondering what to say. (Why was the answer needed so quickly? Was Nataku to be kicked out soon? By Genkaku? -- the thoughts send a shiver down his limbs, but he shook it off, trying to ward off the fear and revulsion, at least for the moment.)
It took him a terribly long while to sort through static-hazed thoughts, to formulate words that would normally take him only a moment. But still, but still, concentrating on this seemingly trivial issue helped to calm his nerves. "A fear of the dark is common in children." Even artificial, his voice was hushed, low, the slightest bit hoarse from shallow breaths, but still, he spoke, eyes half-narrowed in thought. "Most likely because all people fear what they do not know. -- and darkness -- obscures features. Makes it difficult to see. -- One begins to fear that something unknown will emerge from the darkness." Doubling over, he gave a rasping cough before continuing, looking at Nataku. "... perhaps there's something else you're afraid of, and the darkness makes you think that fear will come true."
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"I see. I am still a child." This was something that he always told people as though they did not believe that he was one. He was aware of what he was, at least. That he was someone who did not understand the world, still had difficulties in fully understanding how it worked and how to respond to it. But he remained alive to this point. But, that was neither here nor there. Nataku remembered why he was afraid. Alucard had disappeared in the dark and he was left by himself. His head tilted slightly, taking in that memory and finding his answer. "I suppose that I am concerned with the idea that I will be left alone. Without my family."
His gaze had fixed on the man's features, wondering if he would admit to what Rokuro said that he was doing. It was not that he thought that he was clever, merely that now that he was thinking on it, that was what he seemed to be concerned with. An irrational fear and fear of something that was abstract, which made it even more complex to deal with since he worked better with literal concepts. "So how shall I get rid of such a fear?"
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Another long moment of thought, and he flexed his fingers, trying to piece together his mind during this moment of calm, where he could concentrate on something, anything. "... fears of abstract concepts are difficult to eradicate, if not impossible, at least by logical means." A small sigh, as he took in a low breath, trying to calm shallow breaths. "Perhaps it would be best to face your fear of loneliness."
There was the weak beginning of a laugh, rasping and hollow -- Nataku. He didn't belong here. Not with the others here. And Nagi sounded almost bitter for a moment. (Wishing that these circumstances were different.) "... speak to those people you hold close. Explain to them what you fear. -- and if they may leave, follow them. If you do not wish to lose someone precious, then you must also make the effort to keep them."
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The bowl of food was picked up as he went to set it back on the dining cart. "I understand. I will make sure that they will not get too far from me. I thank you for helping me, at least a little bit." It seemed like he would push the cart back out of the room, but he only moved it so that it would be out of the way. Not certain how much scrambling would take place and not wanting to make any more of a mess than he already would make.
"Now for the reason that I am here." It was not so much that the tone of his voice changed, since it barely ever changed, but that the expression shifted from its usual blankness to mild anger. "I said that you would be an inconvenience if you became a corpse. This is true. But only if someone was not immediately here to clean it up." His hand rose to float harmlessly in the air. "I remember … when you bleed … you can cause pain to me. Correct?"
His head tilted slightly as he decided that he should ask. Since he had been working on the belief that Nagi would benefit from this as well, but he may be wrong. If he was not going to profit from his own death, then Nataku would simply strike him from the list of those that would be happy. "Do you wish to be free? That would make you happy, correct?"
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But no -- now wasn't the time for it. The realization came several moments too slow, delayed by the sluggish flow of drugs in his veins, but even past the lockdown on his mental processes, Nagi could tell that Nataku was -- angry. At him? The question asked soon afters -- 'but only if someone was not immediately here to clean it up' -- only supplemented that suggestion, and for a moment, Nagi felt a sharp pang of fear prickle down his back. (-- why?)
His limbs felt like they were made of led, his framed wracked by uncontrolled tremors and twitches -- but still, he dragged himself away from the other a scant inch, pale eyes fixed in a wary (disbelieving) stare. "-- you plan on freeing me?" His voice had gone quiet, partly from the effort of forcing himself to move, but also partly from the unwillingness to believe that Nataku might be trying to dispose of him. That -- was the only logical conclusion that could be drawn from those words, wasn't it? (Maybe. Maybe he was missing something. Maybe he was making a mistake, maybe the drugs were impairing his judgment, maybe Genkaku's constant tormenting was getting to him, no, Nataku wouldn't be the type to commit murder for not good reason. -- reason.) A shuddering breath out. "What -- are you planning on doing?"
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"I no longer feel like asking if you would be so kind as to love him back." His head tilted. "It is not that you are not kind, but that you are both human. Both emotional and illogical. If you admitted that you loved him, Genkaku would be happy and perhaps release you from here." This was how he understood how things would work if such simple words were spoken. Spoken and be true, of course. His gaze remained on the door as his ribbon continued to rise in the air. Perhaps, trying to be intimidating. "But because you do not … you continue to drive him farther and farther away from us."
Pulling his gaze away from the door, he stared at the other for a time. Not as angry as before but actually seemingly worried, scared. "I wonder if you are the metaphorical darkness." He waited a few seconds for a response before taking a tighter grip on the ribbon. The reaction was instantaneous; the ends lashing out to wrap around Nagi's delicate neck - to rise him up and against the wall so that he would be slowly strangled to death. He thought about simply beheading him, but that seemed like it was too kind. Or perhaps, he wanted the man to realize that he had done something wrong and admit to it before his eventual death.
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Breath catching in his throat, Nagi made to speak, but found that he couldn't. "-- no, Nataku -- I --" The sudden realization that he was in very real danger sent a spike of adrenaline rushing through his system, clashing with the drugs that numbed his senses, and he dragged himself backwards, back pressed against the cold concrete wall, shivering -- trying desperately to free himself from the tight coil of prayer beads. (Ah, what would Genkaku think? -- was the vague thought at the back of his mind. Maybe he would regret this. If I were to die here, because I could not fight back.) "Please don't --"
The thought was torn out of his head the next moment, when the ribbon wrapped about his throat, then jerked him upwards, instantly cutting off air. The artificial voice-box pressed against his windpipe, and he gasped for air, tied arms rising to grapple with the ribbon in a futile attempt to escape. And past the faint strangled noise that escaped his throat, he could barely whisper, "-- I wouldn't -- have thought you the type -- to think like this." A shudder, a gasp -- his vision was blurring. (Of everything, this was not how I imagined I would die.)
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"However, someone told me about your true nature. That you are actually a liar. That you are actually trying to drive my brother away from us." His tugged his ribbon slightly - which caused him to pull Nagi away from the wall, about to set his feet back on the ground, before slamming him back into the stone. He was not happy to be fooled. "If Genkaku is not here, who will protect Johan?" Nataku would do his best to look after the Senator, but that was not his job. That was not his part in the family.
"I do not wish for you to lie anymore." He looked down for a moment, but his hold on the ribbon remained sure. "Were you lying before about how to help me with my problem?" Even as he much he wanted an answer; the ribbon began to tighten around Nagi's throat. Reflecting the anger that the child did not quite comprehend. Was unsure why he was upset about lying. Because he saw that it caused harm to his brother? Or because he saw no reason in it? Difficult to say, perhaps it would think on it later afterward.
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"-- who? --" (Someone who hated him? -- perhaps Genkaku? In a cruel move, toying with him more, laughing at this scene from behind the curtains? -- no, unlikely. Then who? -- someone from the labs?) Whatever fragmented thoughts he'd been trying to formulate, however, were instantly obliterated, when he was slammed against the concrete surface. The blow effectively drove every last breath of air out of his lungs, and he cringed, his head ringing from the shock. Blood trickling down from his temples where the skin had been torn off, rivulets of opera scarlet leaking into the edge of his vision, painting everything bright.
(-- perhaps. Perhaps. This is for the best. Maybe this is the only way I can escape his torment.) His attempts to tear away from the ribbon had weakened, then stopped, fingers grasping only loosely at the folds of blood-stained cloth. The gaze he had fixed on Nataku had long since been drained of the desperate pleading (-- please don't do this --), replaced by something close to half-conscious defeat.
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The monk journeyed back into his room, awakening from his sleep and took his beloved flying V. He wasn’t gonna let some little fucker destroy everything that Genkaku had completed, if Nataku was gonna screw everything up, then the little fly was gonna get the worse torturous death that anyone could ask for. Totally beautiful blissful death. With the guitar slung over his shoulder, the monk made his way to the estate’s basement, taking in slow steps, and with each step the corner of his lips pulled upwards.
A large clack emerged from within the large blood-scented room as the metal door slid open, and sluggish movements were to follow. His eyes at first gazed to Nagi and his delirium-induced state, the drugs that crawled through veins and constricted around that pretty little head could only made a small amused sound emerge from the base of Genkaku’s throat - but when the monk’s head tilted to Nataku, he cocked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, tossing the guitar to the concrete ground and took slow steps, "Hmmm, you’re getting on my nerves, little bro."
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Nataku flinched when the door opened. Did not have enough time to drop Nagi to the floor and act as though he had not been trying to strangle the life out of him; that he was just present so that he would give food to the man and prepare to kill him on the next visit. Instead, he stayed as he was with something close to a guilty expression on his face. Head tilted slightly to the ground with his gaze up to Genkaku. He had been thinking that he had more time to kill him than this. Looked briefly at the guitar that was set down before seemingly relieved that it was set down on the ground; that he would not be shot at with it.
"On your nerves? I am nowhere near you." Nataku corrected Genkaku's speech, not realizing that he was making his own situation worse by doing so. He just did not wish for his brother to be speaking incorrectly. "I know that you may be upset that I am strangling Nagi, but I cannot stop what I am doing. If you would wait outside for a few moments, I will be finished. Is that acceptable?" With his free hand, he gestured to the hall. Knowing that he probably would be told to leave and that he should not order his brother around; he thought that he should at least try.
Nataku was doing all of this for him, after all.
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Spots of black marred his already-blurred vision, and he heard, rather than saw, Genkaku enter, flinching at the slam of the iron door rebounding against the wall. It was suddenly and painfully cold, and he shivered, head rolling back to gaze weakly at Genkaku -- meeting the other's leering stare for a brief moment. And during that second, he was utterly torn. (Death, here and now, at this child's hands -- or continuous torment at the hands of this monster? A path of needles or a path of knives. Which would you have me choose? Which would you condemn me too? He came terribly, terribly close to asking for help, for the briefest moment, before restraining himself.)
His lungs already purged of air, Nagi could no longer speak, barely choking out a faint strangled noise past lips wet with saliva -- and he shook his head weakly, eyes closed. Waiting for the conclusion to this tragicomedy one way or the other.
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"Nah. Little brother--" He uttered violently as fingers slipped into his pocket and emerged from a thin cigar lodged between slender fingers, "--You don’t get it, don’tcha?" The cigar was placed between his lips and the monk tossed his head back, red strands over his shoulder as the cigar emitted a swirling of toxic smoke. He lifted the cigar from his mouth, pointing it at Nataku, "Ain’t you ever gonna get it? Not gonna get that Nagi isn’t yours to play with?" He scratched the side of his head, "Huh...gotta say, wonder why fuckin’ Johan puts up with you."
"Hey--" He muttered abruptly, taking the end of the cigar and putting it out on Nataku’s neck, charring the other’s flesh, "If you wanna play, could’ve just asked..." Though, the next maneuver that the monk committed wasn’t playful at all. the occupied hand grasped at the back of Nataku’s skull - the grip hard, harsh and violet, dangerous and brutal as he yanked Nataku from Genkaku’s prized vermin. Then, with one strong and powerful jerking of his arm, Genkaku hurled the boy’s skull to collide with the wall, and harshly whispered with a raspy tone, "...Tch. don’t know when to back off."
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The ribbon was released when he went to hold his neck, which allowed Nagi to be free. His eyes widened for a moment as he released the hold on the burnt skin so that he could look up at the monk, trying his best to appear apologetic. "I always ask if I could play with you…" His voice was quiet and small, but still spoken with the blandness that it always was. Nataku wondered if he was going to crawl towards Nagi to try to finish the job before the man could get a breath in - was not too far away from him, or if he should quietly leave the room. Neither choice was taken as the back of his head was grabbed while he was quietly debating his two options.
Did not have time to ask if he could be released by Genkaku before his skull collided with the wall. Crumbling against the stone, he thought that he heard something break when he hit the wall. His eyes closed in a moment of pain as he felt nauseous, confused as to why. Instead of going to baby his head, he went to his ears. Looking around for the ringing, confused as to where it was. Blood started to curl down from the initial wound, which he expected, but he became concerned that his ears and eyes appeared to be bleeding as well. Sat at he was as he touched his face, smearing the blood in the process of his confusion as he was trying to figure out what was wrong with him.
"Big brother, big brother." He kept muttering, wondering why it hurt when he touched his face, but unable to word it properly. Just kept calling to Genkaku and quietly touching his injuries, staring at the blood in confusion, before he eventually lost consciousness.
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And his lungs were still writhing, his breath coming in staggered gasps, when the sudden crunch of bone tore through the air. A sickening noise, accompanied by the slick of blood and the quiet mutter of incoherent words. "-- Nataku." Ironic, really, that he should worry for the person who had been so intent on killing him until a moment ago. But all he could think -- it wasn't the child's fault. And despite the dark whispers at the back of his mind -- he deserves to die, why shouldn't he die? -- he couldn't help but stare at Nataku, at the blood pouring from his face, the fumbling drag of fingers through the trickles of red, then the staggering collapse. -- dead?
"-- how could you --" A low hiss of words, ragged with hoarse breaths, but still sharp and vicious -- and Nagi fixed a venomous stare on Genkaku, shoulders heaving with each stuttering breath, but his words still determined. "It wasn't -- his fault. Rokuro. -- you would be wise to watch -- your lackeys better." It was meaningless, most likely would achieve nothing. But still, but still -- tearing his eyes away from Genkaku, he looked to Nataku, hoping, praying, that the other was still alive. (Please don't let another person I know to perish at the hands of this monster.)
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