chapter 1 : merely the beginning of a downfall. his.
Author : mariegina
Rating : NC-17
Summary: Tegoshi is not perfect. Who ever said idols were perfect? Tegoshi was anything but.
Disclaimer : I'm not even PRETTIER than him. What makes you think I own him?
Warning(s) : Gory? Or not. But yeah.
Read the prequel community.livejournal.com/lifesexpression/4546.html#cutid1
The cuckoos perched on the window mock him with their eyes, their beaks screaming profanities at him. He feels shadows all around, hovering, overwhelming. As they close in more and more, he feels breathless, his head starting to feel light. He doesn’t know who they are, or even WHAT they are. They glide across his bedroom, swiftly to where he is. They don’t have eyes, nor do they have ears. They don’t have bodies, just faint silhouettes that hints that they are supernatural. Tegoshi starts to wonder if this is all just a dream. But he knows that, as he looks into the looming darkness, it is not a dream.
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He jolts up in bed, cold sweat lining his forehead. It hasn’t been the first time, and he doubts it’s the last. Unable to fall asleep, he steps out of bed and wanders the corridors of his home. Looking up, he sees the moon, big and white. It feels strangely near, but nowhere threatening, unlike the one he sees in his dreams. No, nightmares. They are his nightmares, depriving him of rest. He knows not why it happens, but he does not know how to stop them. It is taking a toll on his body.
They are on a tour these days, NewS. He loves to sing, he loves to hear them praise him. Therefore, he forces himself to stay up, surviving mainly on adrenaline. They do not realize what is going on, neither do they care. He knows that is it bad to think such thoughts, thoughts that drain your energy, deplete you of life. However he cannot stop.
They eat at him, dreams of shadows and blood. A high-pitched shriek cutting through the air and ringing continuously, nameless faces haunting his every thoughts. He thinks he sees them in the dark corners of the room, among the audiences present outside. He thinks they are stalking him, that they are bringers of death. A bad omen.
At the same time, he feels that their nameless faces are a message. A sign of something he is supposed to remember. He doesn’t remember. It gnaws at him, scratches at his conscience.
It is now break time, and their next show is in 5 hours time. He sees flitting shadows and his head starts to pound. He feels his heart beating against his chest, struggling like a caged bird. It hurts.
His eyes wander about and suddenly- it stops. There is a knife on the table, placed there for their convenience- a fruits’ knife. He sees his reflection on the blade and a shiver creeps up his back. He feels excitement building in his soul and he lets out a smile. Reaching out to the object, his fingers wrap around the handle and he lifts up the silver.
All he sees is silver and all he hears is a deafening buzz that traps him in his own world. He sees silver, he feels silver. And suddenly, the silver disappears with red in its place. The red line trickles down his arm and he stares at it in amusement.
He watches as more blood trickles out and he starts to pull along the handle, red spots staining the white carpet beneath his feet. They form a pattern and Tegoshi wonders if he should do something about it.
Too late.
He lifts his head and his hand stops in midair. It is as that very moment when everyone else walks back into the room and stands still, stunned. He simply looks up at them and smiles. And then he speaks.
“Ne, how does it look? It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
The silence is deafening as he enjoys the look on their faces, especially as realization dawns upon Koyama and his mouth drops open in horror. Everything slows down and Time stops as his head hurts as if someone was hammering a nail into his head.
The last thing he remembers before seeing all black is a female staff who sees him and shrieks, running out in a frenzy.
The darkness engulfs him, and he knows nothing more.
Rating : NC-17
Summary: Tegoshi is not perfect. Who ever said idols were perfect? Tegoshi was anything but.
Disclaimer : I'm not even PRETTIER than him. What makes you think I own him?
Warning(s) : Gory? Or not. But yeah.
Read the prequel community.livejournal.com/lifesexpression/4546.html#cutid1
The cuckoos perched on the window mock him with their eyes, their beaks screaming profanities at him. He feels shadows all around, hovering, overwhelming. As they close in more and more, he feels breathless, his head starting to feel light. He doesn’t know who they are, or even WHAT they are. They glide across his bedroom, swiftly to where he is. They don’t have eyes, nor do they have ears. They don’t have bodies, just faint silhouettes that hints that they are supernatural. Tegoshi starts to wonder if this is all just a dream. But he knows that, as he looks into the looming darkness, it is not a dream.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\
He jolts up in bed, cold sweat lining his forehead. It hasn’t been the first time, and he doubts it’s the last. Unable to fall asleep, he steps out of bed and wanders the corridors of his home. Looking up, he sees the moon, big and white. It feels strangely near, but nowhere threatening, unlike the one he sees in his dreams. No, nightmares. They are his nightmares, depriving him of rest. He knows not why it happens, but he does not know how to stop them. It is taking a toll on his body.
They are on a tour these days, NewS. He loves to sing, he loves to hear them praise him. Therefore, he forces himself to stay up, surviving mainly on adrenaline. They do not realize what is going on, neither do they care. He knows that is it bad to think such thoughts, thoughts that drain your energy, deplete you of life. However he cannot stop.
They eat at him, dreams of shadows and blood. A high-pitched shriek cutting through the air and ringing continuously, nameless faces haunting his every thoughts. He thinks he sees them in the dark corners of the room, among the audiences present outside. He thinks they are stalking him, that they are bringers of death. A bad omen.
At the same time, he feels that their nameless faces are a message. A sign of something he is supposed to remember. He doesn’t remember. It gnaws at him, scratches at his conscience.
It is now break time, and their next show is in 5 hours time. He sees flitting shadows and his head starts to pound. He feels his heart beating against his chest, struggling like a caged bird. It hurts.
His eyes wander about and suddenly- it stops. There is a knife on the table, placed there for their convenience- a fruits’ knife. He sees his reflection on the blade and a shiver creeps up his back. He feels excitement building in his soul and he lets out a smile. Reaching out to the object, his fingers wrap around the handle and he lifts up the silver.
All he sees is silver and all he hears is a deafening buzz that traps him in his own world. He sees silver, he feels silver. And suddenly, the silver disappears with red in its place. The red line trickles down his arm and he stares at it in amusement.
He watches as more blood trickles out and he starts to pull along the handle, red spots staining the white carpet beneath his feet. They form a pattern and Tegoshi wonders if he should do something about it.
Too late.
He lifts his head and his hand stops in midair. It is as that very moment when everyone else walks back into the room and stands still, stunned. He simply looks up at them and smiles. And then he speaks.
“Ne, how does it look? It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
The silence is deafening as he enjoys the look on their faces, especially as realization dawns upon Koyama and his mouth drops open in horror. Everything slows down and Time stops as his head hurts as if someone was hammering a nail into his head.
The last thing he remembers before seeing all black is a female staff who sees him and shrieks, running out in a frenzy.
The darkness engulfs him, and he knows nothing more.