.x.

Chapter Three

The Lighthouse, The Library, and The Fencer’s Bedroom

.x.

He grunted, holding onto the chain with one hand, straining his neck, and stretching his other arm until his fingers could just barely brush against the key, a thin piece of bronze, which ultimately pushed it even further back. It was a wonder why the key--what he hoped was for his metal neck brace--was doing under the table in the first place, but it just meant a better situation for the helpless blonde, chained to the bed for who knows how long. He had begun to think that he was going to be forced here forever. Oh dear, a sex slave! He was already fitted for one: ripped, flexible, and barely clothed. He grabbed at the key desperately. He was no one's sex slave, and he would make sure of it.

Cloud was concerned over the fact that the one that had placed the odd drink in his guest room could come back any time now, all the more reason to make haste and get his hands on the key. Even if the key was not for his uncomfortable, cold metal collar, it had to go to something. The brace's lock didn't seem much of a grand one and it was easy to figure out, Cloud was sure, so even if the copper key wasn't intentionally for it, getting it unlocked with it would be simple.

He hissed as a biting, cutting pain broke through his left shoulder; he had stretched his arm so much that his wound was in an intensely painful state, one where he winced and whimpered each time he moved. He sucked back air through his teeth, stopping his attempt at escape to lightly touch his wrapped injury with his hand, shielding it from the horrors of his surroundings from under his palm.

Cloud gritted his teeth, sighing, and resumed trying to get the small key. He growled, already stretched out to his maximum. The bright blue sky seeped through the thin curtains of maroon behind the table. The fire from the hearth had long gone out, and the room's light was solely from the large, arched window in front of him. From where he was on the floor, he could just see the clouds poking the air with scattered puffs of white. He never understood how people could see things in them; the patterns of the white shreds were random and irregular.

The blonde then wondered how Demyx was holding up, for he did not know how long he had been in the room already. His phone was not on him, he was sure, since not a scrap of the clothing he had come with was on his body now. He pushed himself up with his hands, ignoring the stab in his shoulder, and stood up, unable to move forward. Through the swaying curtains Cloud could see the tops of trees, obviously looking over the front of the house, and off into the distance--Destiny Islands, although the faint silhouettes of buildings and the town were smaller than he remembered.

He headed back towards the high bed, climbing on top of the thick mattress with the help of the chain to hoist him up. His neck was sore from the straining, and resting his head upon a pillow helped as he gazed up at the ceiling through the white net of a canopy of the four-poster bed. His chest was stiff from lying on his stomach for so long, curling himself up into a ball under the sheets.

The boom of thunder awoke him half an hour later, or so it felt to Cloud, whose eyes stung from the odd sleep deprivation. Another pierced the air, a blast that could have easily shaken the house, followed by two less-threatening shots of thunder off into the distance. Cloud opened his curious, blood-shot blue eyes, lifting his head to stare out the window by the table and wardrobe. Plunk, plunk, plunk. The rain began to fall heavily at a suddenly fast pace, hitting the glass window. A battle between the roars of thunder raged on as one sounded off after another, some close and some far. Lightning tempted them, the sounds bursting through the heavy gust of rain after one such light would strike.

.x.

Cloud rested on the bed once more under the ocean of knitted blankets that were in a heap from his constant move from the bed to the floor whenever he’d hear even the slightest move outside his own comfort zone of the guest bedroom. He fixed them, flattening them out properly as a way of getting over his crushed hope of using the key under the table to open his uncomfortable neck brace.

He felt like a chicken in a coop being fed double rations of chicken feed so he would get fat enough to be shoved into an oven. The slave idea never left him, although he knew the idea of such a thing was highly un-modern. Still, he hoped for the best and stayed under the covers. All he could do was sulk in his space, unaware of what was to happen to him. Apart of him wanted someone to come into his room, which is why he spent a long time staring anxiously at the door, but no one came to his rescue—Cloud was a damsel in distress.

He growled at the same time as his stomach, an empty area in his lower body. He rubbed the skin over it gently, letting a sigh escape his dry lips. “Food,” he whispered to himself. “Food!”

Cloud leaned over the side of the bed, letting his arms dangle off. He felt the chain on is bare back, and he shivered at the touch. His neck was starting to get itchy. Cloud looked around the room for something else he could use to get into the lock, but nothing came in sight in the distance he was allotted. However, from the bottom of the bed, he could touch the end of a broken piece of wood with his fingers that had split out from the bed. The partly detached piece was small and thin, the perfect size that he needed to get into the lock and turn it. He grinned mischievously, becoming excited.

Cloud pulled on the end of the broken wood, stripping it off the bed. Vandalism was hardly his thing, but these were desperate times. He needed a way out of here: a lonely old room with antique furnishings and an out-of-place fireplace that was an extremely rare thing to have in a house in tropical climates. He tore off a few strings of the wood so that it fit the space in the lock, and shoved it inside the keyhole.

He found it hard to see, since the thing was around his neck, but the wood fit in perfectly, and after a twist and jiggle or two, the metal opened around his neck and fell down to his shoulders with a click. Cloud chuckled to himself, beginning to think about how the one who held him captive was a dense moron.

He threw the chain and metal neck brace aside with as much force as he would a pillow, the sound of the heavy material hitting the floor with a loud ‘clank’ not effecting him at all. All he cared about was getting out of his locks, and now the real problem lay ahead—getting out of the room. He had no clue as to where he was, but from the view outside the curtained window, he was on a high story of a house.

The door opened with a slight creak, the slightest he would let it. The hallway outside was wide and with extremely long, numerous windows accompanying the left side of it, allowing rays of sunlight to pour in the same shape as the windows. One long, blood red carpet was laid on the path down it, one of the hall ways leading to the unknown of the distance, and the other, the one Cloud was currently facing through the crack, ending in double glass doors. That way looked so much safer to Cloud, being as the other way looked gloomy and he couldn’t even see the end of it.

With hesitance and another look both ways like he was crossing a street, he stepped out of his room, forgetting and not caring that he was barely clothed and shoe-less. The house wasn’t cold despite the thunderstorm going on outside, so he was content with what he was wearing for now. Golden light from the outside was actually a comfort as he walked down the hallway, strolling past column after column, holding onto himself as the sunlight slowly faded into gray darkness, and the golden light became sparks of lightning.

With ease he opened one of the glass doors, the other side looking generally sound and deserted. Out of pure tension, he could hear faint footsteps coming his way, and voices echoing off walls. He shivered, rubbing his arms. The eeriness of the hall was getting to him. If the manor was really wiped of people, there’s no telling what other things could be roaming around…

“It’s just the thunder,” he told himself. “Just the thunder.”

BOOM! A crack of the storm filled the air, and following obediently behind it, a flash of lighting. Cloud stopped afterwards, as another wave of mysterious voices came his way, faded and distorted like if the sounds were traveling under water as they ran through the walls. It sounded like ghostly wails, coming to get him. After a pause, Cloud continued on, only to be hit once against with the moans from within the walls. He turned a corner.

The blonde ended up in another long, drawn-out hall lined wall-to-wall with armored knights. The room was lit an orange like the sunset with the candles that were held high in place above the heads of the knights, a pleasant dimness. It reminded him of a hotel, with an oddly carpeted floor. He groaned to himself, “Yes, of course I’d find the room with all the spooky knights.”

Another crack of thunder and a traveling cry. From where Cloud was now, the sound seemed to becoming from behind him. He halted once again to wait for the next scream that would come his way. When it came, he turned around, the sound indeed coming from the hall he had just come from. Perhaps another floor or other side of the manor? Well, at least it wasn’t in front of poor Cloud, something that he didn’t have to run into.

Cloud peered into the helmets of the armored superiors that stood tall on their personal platforms and swords beside them like precious pets. He couldn’t help but fear that it would be like in the movies: a creepy bad guy hiding inside the shield. He tore his eyes away from them, enforcing the “If I can’t see them, they can’t see me” rule for youngsters. He rushed to the end of the hall, where a solid wood door and winding staircase awaited him. The door was under the staircase, and that was his way out, but as he walked towards it, he could hear the faint sound of conversing voices from the other side (not the ones that were taunting him before), and he bolted up the flight of stairs.

He managed to hide himself behind the wall on the next floor at the exact moment the door underneath him swung open. Panting and gasping, the blonde poked his head out a bit to see, his hands holding onto the corner connecting the walls. Stepping out from the door was a lanky, sandy-haired male. He wore a pair of light trousers, a beige, and a white linen shirt featuring a tall standing collar. His azure eyes glanced up the staircase. Next to him, an equally blonde, slightly taller woman. She donned a slim ebony garment with a white petticoat just barely slipping out from under it as she walked. The woman seemed as so she was heading to a funeral, the bodice so long and full that a tail of the material dragged behind her.

“–in the library at the present moment,” she said to the boy, both breaking off at the base of the stairway. “In a short while, he shall be done. I advise you enter upon his departure.”

The boy nodded, his hand resting upon the rail. “As such, I shall do. Thank you, Larxene.”

Larxene bowed her head to some degree and took her leave, disuniting them as she followed the manor hall through the knights. Roxas, on the other hand, began to climb up the staircase. Cloud, frightened and incapable of breathing, backed away from the wall he was up against and turned around, getting a good look at the way of his escape.

He tilted his head to the right.

This was the exact same hallway as the one outside his guest room. At least, it looked exactly the same. The only difference was the rug, this time a darker red, almost purple. A door stood at the end. The large, arched windows were on the same side and the tall columns on the other. He concealed himself from sight behind one of them, kneeling behind it. The spiky-haired male appeared shortly after, quietly strolling down the hall unhurriedly. He kept his hands in his pants and his eyes plastered on the windows, staring out at the rain taping against them. Cloud maneuvered himself around the column as Roxas passed so that he wasn’t seen; Roxas hadn’t seem to have heard.

Cloud kept up with Roxas all down the hall, going column-to-column a safe distance behind the boy’s back. He had taken his gaze away from the storm and was now staring at the floor. Soon the columns were running out, and Roxas turned right at the ‘T’ intersection with the other hallway. Cloud climbed out of the shadows and stood erectly beside the last white column, watching Roxas’s back as he proceeded on in a different styled hallway, this one’s colors gold and maroon with carpet for the floor and walls. This one had windows in the same style.

He chose to go backwards, taking his eyes off Roxas’s faraway spinal column with a sigh. Footing by the columns, he gaped out the view port blurred with rain fragments, some drops racing down the glass. Outside this window, several stories below, a field of green grass–a garden. Through the haze he could make out a tree in a corner, and a waterfall in another. It was odd, since the flower garden was enclosed on all sides with the house; he could see three other barriers with hallways and windows from his own manor hall. He had remembered on the map, how the paper showed that on all four floors there was a garden. No wonder. The area was in an unsuited place within the walls of the mansion.

I look higher than four floors, Cloud thought to himself. And I’m not on the top level.

Which brought him to his next thought: where the hell were his possessions? They had obviously been taken, but by whom? And where did he or she put them? And why the hell wasn’t that map right?!

He could see Roxas’s shape passing windows on the barrier on his left.

Cloud’s hand gripped the sparkling railing and he took a few steps down the staircase, until the door below him opened. He whipped around and sped back up again two at a time with caution, the sound of heavy footsteps breaking the deafening silence. The person was in a hurry, or seemed like it, and the person was already on the stairway. Cloud’s hands turned into fists, power walking down the hall, passing the windows for the third time. His pressured mind didn’t relay the idea of hiding behind the columns again, so he scurried away in clear sight.

Cloud looked over his shoulder; the shadow of the person was at the top of the stairs. He gulped and moved as rapidly as he could without making too much of a racket, which looked something between a waddle and a clumsy jog, but that wasn’t the main priority at the moment. Freedom was calling out to him from the end of the ‘T’-shaped hallway, but as he reached this so called ‘Freedom,’ it all fell apart.

Roxas was now coming back down the hall towards Cloud; he had turned around. The other person behind Cloud was already off the stairs, with his chestnut-haired head down and staring at the carpeted flooring, as was Roxas.

Cloud looked at Roxas, who was heading his way. He then looked at Sora, who was also traveling in his direction. Then Roxas, who still had his head down. Then Sora, doing the same thing. Then Roxas again.

“...Shit!” He muttered to himself. He glared back over his shoulder at the vacant hallway in which he could flee, the other end of the 'T'.

It was never-ending, like the one by his room. How convenient.

Cloud felt like a juicy piece of meat, ready to be thrown to the crocodiles. Ouch. Sora was much closer than Roxas was, who was a longer distance away. They both seemed to be walking sluggishly, like the killers in horror movies. If both, or even one, looked up and saw him, what would they do...? Cloud took the only solution he could come up with; he twisted the doorknob of the door beside him and headed inside.

He closed the door as quietly as he could and got on his knees, placing his palms against the door. He peered out from the keyhole. Sora had stopped. The brunette smiled malevolently underneath his spikes, like he had just lost his target. He lifted his head somewhat and turned, carrying on down the same hallway in which he had just came towards the staircase once again. Cloud found this bizarre, raising a curious brow, but nevertheless fortunate for him in the situation. Now all he had to do was wait for Roxas...

Cloud moved his head away from the door to analyze his environment. He was in a low cavern-type area, the ceiling arched, with white concrete and stone. This cavern was an entrance to a colossal brass staircase, the base of which he could see from where he was by the keyhole. He looked through it once again at, coincidentally, the moment Roxas passed, barely two feet away from the door. Cloud’s heart ceased to beat.

Roxas had come to a halt right in front of the doorway. Cloud didn’t dare to breathe. Moments, ones that felt like eternity, passed, and he continued to stare at the side of Roxas’ trousers. Cloud’s mind was filled with pleas, most for Roxas not to open the door he was behind. The others were in hope that Roxas would go away... quickly.

And, thankfully, Roxas did, turning on his heel and passing down the path laid out in front of the opening that Cloud was staring into with the columns and windows. He sighed loudly with relief and exhaustion, taking his hands off of the door.

Roxas stopped moving yet again, glancing behind him. Cloud’s lungs refused to start working. He sat there, broad-eyed. Had Roxas heard him? He pushed himself away from the door as Roxas started to turn around, picking himself up. Slowly, facing the door, Cloud retreated from the entry, fearing Roxas might barge in at any second. He braved turning his head to see fully what was in the next room behind his back: the staircase of the lighthouse, a black brass, winding stairway that went on and on until the sky, or so it seemed. From the inside, the height of it looked so much higher. He dashed up the steps as fast as he could go without making any audible noises, which wasn’t very easy. Every time he put a foot on one, the sound of his foot hitting the metal was a thump that echoed throughout the entire establishment.

The door finally opened, the sound resounding throughout the place, with Roxas unconcealed behind it. By that time, Cloud was already high up enough on the first twirl of the staircase that he was able to hide behind the brass, pausing his hurry upwards momentarily.

Roxas stood at the foot of the stairs, questioning closely the contents of the lighthouse. His gaze was deadly, according to Cloud, and it scanned everything it could see. The older blonde lifted his foot slowly and placed it on the next step. The metal was cruel.

Roxas’s eye twitched. Cloud took another step, keeping himself pushed up against the wall in order not to be seen. The metal, again, made a tiny sound. Cloud dared not to move any further.

A few minutes of silence.

Roxas rocketed up the stairs, at full speed. His eyes narrowed, catching a glimpse of Cloud. The older male had rushed upwards as soon as Roxas did, so he was at some distance away. Roxas pushed on, climbing each step with determination. Cloud, on the other hand, leaped up two-at-a-time, holding onto the rail to pull him up. Another twirl and twist of the staircase, and then another. Roxas refused to slow down, not affected physically at all; Cloud, however, was wiped clean of fuel. His lungs heaved and he coughed, swallowing saliva to keep his throat from going completely dry. His pharynx felt like it was about to explode, on fire and battered, but every time he noticed Roxas getting closer, he pushed himself upward and onward.

It wasn’t until he reached the very top that he slowed down, fumbling with the doorknob and almost falling when he finally got it open. He walked across the Main Gallery balcony that surrounded the tower, almost fainting from the dryness of his throat and the cement in his lungs. He made his way around the round balcony, with Roxas erupting from the door behind him, until he found the small staircase that led up to the Watch Room.

Cloud, who had noticed Roxas was right behind him, turned himself around, walking backwards. He stepped up the stairs to the Service Room while staring down at Roxas. The younger blonde had slowed down quickly, knowing that Cloud was within his claws, but he seemed to be staring through Cloud, his eyes unfocusted and unnerved. He was now five feet away, following Cloud around the windowpane. Inside the glass was the gigantic lens in which the light was made. Cloud pushed himself up against the edge of the black rail, holding onto it with dear life while he stared into the jaws of Death. The dome above them, Roxas pursued Cloud, now less than a foot away–

Roxas suddenly turned away, taking a spot next to Cloud, who was frozen.

His face was plastered with fearfulness, and he was motionless.

Roxas wrapped his fingers around the railing, gazing out at the landscape. The island... the ocean...the horizon, covered with a bleak gray hue. A complete and full mood-swing on his part.

“If I leaped,” the young blonde began, his blue eyes glistening, “...do you think they’d notice?” He leaned over. Cloud’s hand rushed forward on instinct as a gesture of stopping him. He was beaming, his hair blowing in the harsh winds from the lingering storm. “That’s acceptable. Larxene has told me: if I study all the books at home within the library, I’ll be able to depart from this place...”

He stepped away from the rail, giving the sight one last grin, and headed back down the stairs to the Main Gallery. “No,” he said to himself, “I won’t jump today.”

.x.

Finding his room again wasn’t difficult, considering Cloud always had a knack of figuring things out without difficulty. All he had to do was see what halls looked familiar, and Cloud hadn’t really made a complicated path after leaving his room. He walked down the hall way with the large windows by his room with Roxas’s blessing–not having to hide from him in the hallways.

He opened the door. He had forgotten completely about his chains until that very moment–when he saw him. Now that Cloud was closer, he was able to see the face clearer. He was about to yell “Hey! You’re the one who shot me!” if it wasn’t for the fact that the delicate male was dressing on the other side of the room in front of the open bureau.

Sora was defiantly scrawny, not an ounce of muscle on his body, but he wasn’t so skinny that his bones were poking out right and left. His hair was a medium brown and pointed. Sora looked like a child, his arms and legs tender and smooth. He had put on a light cotton shirt, one that was unlaced at the neck. He looked deliciously slim and slender, his skin beautiful and creamy like buttermilk–

Oh god, what the hell was Cloud thinking? He made a mental note to kick himself later.

Inside the dresser were linen and cottons shirts on brass hangars and below them, black, gray, and tan trousers. On the bottom of the bureau was a large chest, now opened and showing off golden and silver swords. Sora finished lacing up his shoes and snatched up two of the thin swords, holding one in each hand.

So this is his room? Cloud wondered to himself. He was not going to share a room with him. There were thousands of other available guest rooms, he was sure. Cloud moved aside so that Sora could leave the room. Sora didn’t even send him a glance. The blonde followed him out into the hall, the brunette having gone the never-ending way. Cloud, not having anything better to do, traveled behind Sora down the hall.

Deep down in the hallway, Cloud stopped to examine a door cracked open, peering inside. It was the library. He moved his head away from the door, looking for Sora. The brunette was gone, having turned a corner somewhere or other. Cloud grinned slightly and looked back through the crack.

The library seemed empty, so he strode within. The ceiling was high and elevated, the room’s theme black and white. The floors were in black and white tile, while the ceiling was a mixture of the two; the bookshelves were as well. Shelves were lined very close to one another, many of them taking space on the wall. To the side of the library, a white staircase that led to the second floor, which was lined with even more books.

“Larxene has told me: if I study all the books at home within the library, I’ll be able to depart from this place...”

Cloud chuckled softly. “Jesus, kid, it’ll take ten years to read all those books... but I wonder why he has to wait before then...?”

The blonde shrugged, took one last looked around, and walked out.

.x.

Author's Note: OI, that took forever. I wrote the second half at five in the morning. Heehee. I hope it's not too bad. I think the 'suspensefulness' that's supposed to be there isn't, but Riku-stalker seems to think different, and I respect her opinion, and I'm sure she's right! Anyways...

Special Thanks To: Riku-stalker, for being such a lovely beta!

Stay tuned for Chapter Four: The Doll Room, the Music Room, and the Master Suite!