Moon-Dancing Demon Man ~ Part 5

13 oktober 2008

Thud.. Thud.. Thud..
The world was dark. Heavy. Nothing was to be seen or felt.
Thud.. Thud..
The air was pressing down upon him, causing a dull pain.
Cold stones beneath him.
A metallic smell tickling his nostrils.
The soft sound of a woman breathing.
His vocal cords vibrated as a soft groan slid between his lips. Then he moved his head, and a flash of white light crashed down before his eyes.
Adrenaline exploded within him. A roar emerged from his chest. Chains clattered as he pulled them furiously. The air was damp and there was no light but a little candle on the floor next to the wall opposite to him.
Handcuffs. Chains. Doors and stone walls. They had locked him in. Caged him.
The iron bars in the door shook as he jerked the bonds that held him, threw himself in different directions in a carnal attempt to get loose.
The rough floor scratched his knees, the cuffs chafed the skin of his wrists, and the smell of blood seemed to trigger something even worse inside of him.
Eyes were wide open, but the world was nowhere to be seen. He could feel his own lips grow cold as they were parted, but the growling was not to be herd. Strained muscles hurt and his head was about to explode when a voice that had been there all the time suddenly got through to him.
“..on’t do this! Please, Saïx, stop!”
It was a lovely voice. Vibrate and full, yet not dark as one could imagine. A voice that shot straight into one’s soul.
He roared in pain and protest as all instincts told him to tear free, but his conscious mind tried to stop.
The woman gasped, and then her voice changed. It was soft, calming, yet encouraging.
“That’s it..” she was breathing through her mouth, and something about her scent was familiar. “That’s it, easy..”
Though the muscles were still tensed, he let the chains slacker, his chest heaving violently.
“..Xeline.” His own voice was rough, dull, but she moved before his closed eyes.
“Yes, it’s me. Calm down, Saïx, and I’ll let you loose.”
The promise of getting rid of the bonds had him force the breaths grow slower, to let his arms down, and then a cool hand touched his arm.
“That’s it”, she said again, even softer.
He could see her, faintly, in the flickering light of the candle that Xeline no doubt had brought inside the cell with her. In the dim light, the breathtaking beauty was turned into a goddess, strong and frail in the same time.
Her gracefully drawn brow was knit into an expression of the deepest worry, and the cherry lips were parted just the slightest.
Stormy grey eyes were fixed upon him for a moment, and then she smiled a tiny bit, letting the smooth hand slide down to Saïx’s wrist as she undid the handcuffs.
“There you go..” she said it in a calm voice, soft and soothing and not at all the kind of overly positive voice that are often used by a sickbed.
He could feel her gaze upon him, watching like wondering if he would wreak havoc again; yet in the same time, Xeline’s look was compassionate.
Something stung inside of him. At first, Saïx believed it was because she looked so scared for him. Because she couldn’t feel sad for him. Because she imagined she could feel at all, when she couldn’t.
But then he realized. She wasn’t scared of him. She was scared for him. There was something about it that made Saïx.. He couldn’t define it. It was like when you put a cool compress upon a burn wound, or drink when you’re thirsty.
Whatever “it” was, it made Saïx smile and raise his head towards her.
“Xeline..” he spoke her name again, with a tune that was softer, more personal than he ever used, though his voice was strained and broken.
A hand found Saïx’s cheek, and black hair swept across the floor when she moved closer to him.
There was a moment of silence, when Saïx didn’t know what to say and Xeline seemed to hesitate whether to speak her mind or not.
“How are you feeling?” she finally asked, in a voice that was.. reserved, in a sense. As if she herself thought the question was stupid.
Saïx wondered himself. Closing his eyes, he tried to locate something, though not a feeling, but he tried to examine his own state.
It was impossible. To compare it with something, it was like someone had filled his head with syrup, so everything was dim and slow and sticky.
“Dull”, he finally answered, and a swift smile touched Xeline’s lips once again. Then, Saïx frowned. He remembered the sight of the full moon, and the tickling of his own hair as it grew longer. Also, he remembered the intense pain in the very tips of his fingers when his nails grew thicker and turned into claws. But then.. he didn’t remember a thing.
“What happened?”
There was a change of atmosphere, and Xeline shifted uncomfortably.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Saïx told her what’d just flown through his head. “I don’t know everything”, she started, slowly, with her eyes fixed on the floor between them. “I woke up a while after it started..”
As Xeline told him, the memories came crushing down upon Saïx. They struck him with the force of a hammer in a blacksmith’s hand, and before he knew what happened, Saïx found that cold tears were running down his cheeks, that his upper lip was withdrawn in a silent growl of pain.
It didn’t matter how well Saïx knew that he was incapable of feeling. This very moment, he was afraid of himself, of what happened to him so that he hurt the ones close to him.
Normally, he had some sort of control over it, when he was battle-crazed or such likes. But at times like this, he was scared and ashamed over whatever dwelled inside him. A beast that was triggered by the pale silver light that he loved so much. That was amused, even pleasured by feeling flesh rip beneath its claws, and that purred inside his chest at the taste of blood.
Saïx was disgusted with himself. Filled with hatred and fear towards the creature that he became, the one that joyfully would have ripped the head off even Demyx, one of the most innocent of the Organization, and definitely one of the closest to him.
The world seemed cold. Colder than the dungeon where the lonely candle’s flickering light enhanced and deepened the shadows of the blood still upon his hands.
They dripped from his chin, wet his face till he couldn’t see anymore, but no matter how many tears he cried in his lonely darkness, they would never wash away the blood and shame that filled him, so strong it almost made him nauseous.
Then there was something warm around his shoulders, and a soothing voice whispered soft words that he couldn’t hear, but the mere thing of a friendly voice in the depths of his self-loathing was enough to make Saïx whimper from the strange pain that he felt.
Silken hair fell over his legs like a warming quilt, and then arms that radiated with softness and comfort were put around him, pulled him close and the voice kept mumbling quiet little words.
And there, Saïx cried in all his misery, loathed himself for what he had done, and what lay still in the future, hid from the world in the warmth and stillness of Xeline’s embrace.


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