Author: tastes-like-ciel PM
In a twisted sort of way, a nightmare can be a warning of events to come. / "This isn't a dream. It's a warning." Lelouch didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "That's what…he told me."Rated: Fiction M - English - Horror/Romance - Suzaku K. & Lelouch L. - Chapters: 5 - Words: 25,985 - Reviews: 56 - Favs: 56 - Follows: 33 - Updated: 01-30-12 - Published: 10-01-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5415074
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: Screaming Notes
Warnings: AU-ish. SuzaLulu and ZeroLulu. Graphic and very gory descriptions. Rated M for a reason!!! Plus…LIME!!! [cue the "dun dun dun" music]
Summary: In a twisted sort of way, a nightmare can be a warning of events to come. // "Simply put, I gave you my heart once and now I'm taking it back."
Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass.
Serena: For the record, I was crying the entire time I was writing the more graphic parts of this involving sweet Lelouch. (My half-assed attempt at writing something limey notwithstanding. I was too busy blushing and giggling at that to be bothered by the other stuff.) I won't even try to explain exactly how this came to exist, BUT…I did write it in celebration of Halloween. :D And…well…I've been having very strange dreams about Lelouch and Zero lately. The last one I had broke my heart because Lelouch was crying over Suzaku betraying him (i.e. throwing him to the Emperor), but Zero was there to comfort him (which was SO adorable). This is written strangely, but I feel that it could have been written no other way (which probably isn't true, but in my mind, it had to be written this way). Other than being totally insane, I cannot really find much of a plot. I suppose that it does have one (somewhere), though. If you find it, tell it to pay me a visit so that I can know it too.
Lelouch Lamperouge would never admit to having a weakness. His pride just would not allow it. However, if he had any weaknesses at all--his stamina notwithstanding--that weakness would be named Nunnally.
Nunnally was his sweet and ever kind little sister. His whole world revolved around that chestnut-haired angel. Whatever she wanted that was within his power to reach, he would give to her without a moments hesitation. If she wanted to laze about in a field of flowers, he would scoop her up and take her to a place abundant in beautifully-colored floral arrangements created by Mother Nature herself. If she wanted him to play dress up with her, then bring on the lace and lipstick because he had just become Nunnally's personal doll for an undetermined amount of time. If she wanted a gentler world, then he would arm himself with weapons of all kinds and start a rebellion to see that desire through.
All of which he had done; however, that last one was still undergoing work.
He knew it could be done, though. He knew that with the army he had raised under the persona of the tactical dark knight Zero and the supernatural weapon of total obedience known as Geass that a witch had bestowed unto him, Nunnally's wish would be fulfilled. Sadly, blood needed to be shed in order to grant her wish, but there was not much that he could do about that. Humans could be such terribly cruel and stubborn creatures. They would believe in an ideal that called for the oppression and even slaughter of millions just because they had been given the impression that they were superior beings.
There was so much hate saturating the Earth that it made him want to embed a tiny silver bullet into his own head, to drill it so deeply into his skull that not even the best surgeon could remove it. He kept a gun in his possession for emergencies. Why not use it to escape Britannia's oppression? He would not lie to himself. The thought had crossed his mind before, but it was always followed by a guilty conscience.
If he did that, where would that leave Nunnally?
The only reason he bothered to trudge through his dreary day to day existence was for her. He refused to leave her in a world in which happiness was nearly nonexistent and he would never dream of hurting her. So he continued to exist for her, causing rivers of the blood that made his insides churn to flow and flow in order to make her that kinder world she dreamed of.
That brought another thought to mind.
Blood, another weakness he refused to speak of.
He would never confide in anyone his fear of the crimson substance. Not even Nunnally knew of it.
The fear had first surfaced when he was just a child, back during the day that he had witnessed his mother's murder. He had been plagued with nightmares of her death throughout his childhood and would experience them even now.
Not all of them contained his mother, though. More often than not, his nightmares would be saturated with rainfalls of blood and forests filled with corpses.
He hated them. He wished they would leave him be.
But as years had passed and he had aged into the aloof teenager that he was, the nightmares had grown more violent, more…disturbing.
The first thing that he became aware of was the blinding light shining overhead, its intense gaze glaring down at him in an almost hate-filled stare. The intensity of the light's shine made his eyes water and forced him to keep them shut in order to avoid the pain that the light's gaze caused.
The light did not share the same fierce glow that the sun held and it was too close to be a florescent light shining down from a ceiling. Perhaps it was a lamp of some kind? From his brief glance, he had noted an outline of something circular surrounding the light. Many lamps were given circular shapes to help focus their light onto a particular area. Such lamps were often placed upon desks to give light to late night readers or studiers.
But why was it glaring down upon him so hatefully?
Where was he?
He tried to turn his head away from the light's glare, but he felt a cold strip of metal press against the sides of his head and his eyes flew open despite the stinging that came. Squinting his eyes into slits, he tried to roll them upward to see what object was restraining his head and he tried to arch his back upward to give himself a better view of the object.
But when he tried to bend his elbows and knees, he discovered that there was something restricting his arms and legs, too.
His heartbeat steadily began to increase as fear wound its icy tendrils around his veins. He tugged at his bonds, testing their security.
He wasn't able to move even an inch away from the soft surface underneath him.
Fear's icy grip continued to wind up the intricate design of twists and turns that were connected to his heart.
His heartbeat increased once more and he felt panic begin to swell within his chest.
He tried tugging at his bonds again, his pulls becoming more desperate as success continued to elude him. These bonds were too secure and judging by how many strips of rough fabric continuously brushed against his bare skin, there were too many holding him down.
Rough pieces of fabric wound up his bare legs and lined his arms in uncountable numbers. (Was it three? Maybe four that he felt clamped around his arms? He didn't even want to think about how many were wrapped around his legs…there was just so many…) His wrists and ankles were secured as well.
He felt so…exposed. So…vulnerable.
From what he could feel, he was wearing no familiar clothing of any kind. His arms and legs were completely bare and he was not wearing any underwear. The only thing that he could feel covering him was a thin gown of some kind. It had short sleeves and only seemed to reach near the middle of his thighs.
'What is this? Where am I?!' he panicked. 'Why…why am I being restrained?!'
He knew he should try his best not to panic. He knew that he should keep a level-head and use his quick thinking to get himself out of whatever situation he had fallen into.
But he was…scared…and alone.
And for some odd reason, he was strangely lethargic.
He was not sure exactly how long he had been lying there, lost in his thoughts. It felt like ages had passed since he had first awoken to find himself in this place--that smelled strongly of antiseptic. And during this time, he had tried to think of ways to break away from his restraints and he tried yanking against them to perhaps loosen them, but success still eluded him. He pulled and tugged and yanked and struggled until his skin became raw and his energy dwindled. He would wait a little while after this, allowing his energy to return and would start his struggling all over again.
He heaved heavy breaths as his eyes closed, giving up on his latest attempt at escaping.
'I-It's no use.' he despaired.
It was futile and he knew that, but he just did not know what else to do. His thoughts were only going so far and he was afraid that lack of movement would force him to sleep.
He was thoroughly trapped until his captor decided to release him--if they were willing to release him.
The sudden sound of a door creaking open made him jump and his heart began to beat wildly within his chest as fear squeezed it mercilessly. He heard footfalls echo throughout the room and heard the door creak close, clanging shut with an ominous metallic sound.
When the footfalls ceased, he jumped again as he felt fingers brush against his leg.
The fingers were warm and they sent shivers up his spine as they fluttered up his leg, sliding against the skin between his bonds with the lightest of touches. The fingers were obviously in no hurry to leave the inviting softness of his milky white skin. They took their sweet time in crawling up his exposed leg while he lie helpless to do anything about it.
He squirmed against his restraints, the light touches filling his mind with frightening thoughts about what this stranger might do to him. The thoughts forced various obscenities and protests to bubble up within his throat. He tried to shout these protests at the stranger.
But he found that he could not speak.
No matter how hard he tried to tell the stranger to stop touching him and to untie the bonds shackling him to this vulnerable position…the words refused to sound. They would not come and that hand continued its journey upward until finally reaching the hem of the thin gown that kept him from being completely naked.
His breath hitched as the fingers slowly dipped under the material to continue their journey up his leg, the gown gradually bunching as it was pushed along with the hand.
The fingers skimmed up his inner thigh, causing him to jerk against his restraints as they briefly brushed against his exposed member. The fingers stilled for moment at his reaction, as if deciding what to do next. The moment was brief and the fingers flicked out to touch him again, seeming to take delight in the struggling that he insisted on doing despite knowing that he could not break away from his bonds.
He heard the stranger chuckle in amusement and their fingers skimmed back down his inner thigh. They changed direction after reaching a restraint that was wrapped around his mid-thigh and trickled up to his abdomen, using deliberately slow strokes that made his skin tingle in the worst of ways.
Oh, he was so terrified.
He was completely helpless, completely at the mercy of this molesting stranger. Whatever this person chose to do to him, it would happen.
Either three were possible.
'If only I could use my Geass…'
But the stranger was remaining out of his sight. (All things considered, that was a smart move for this person to make. But could this mean that he knew this supposed stranger? Had they met before?)
The stranger's movements held a gentleness that was not only contradictory to this situation…they were also familiar. He was not sure how to explain it, but these touches felt similar to ones that he had felt before. Teasing and caring, very similar to the touches he would receive from--But that could not be! He would never be treated in such a degrading manner by the one person in this world who had sworn him a knight's oath.
To love and protect, to cherish and trust.
For all eternity.
Of course, technically, such an oath could have no standing with him. Despite being of royal blood--exiled or not--, his beloved had willingly handed over their allegiance to the very country that had not only stolen their right to be considered human, but it had torn apart his life.
He found his thoughts pleading with whoever was listening to please allow him to return to his knight's side, if only for a few scarce moments. He wished that Suzaku were here. Suzaku would not allow this person to touch him in such intimate places. Those places were reserved for the brunet alone. This lustful demon had no right!!
Said demon allowed another chuckle to slip off its poisonous tongue and he could feel its almost claw-like nails scrap against his side as the demon's hand slid away from his vulnerable skin. He felt its fingers brush against his stomach as the hand grabbed hold of the gown. The gown was tugged back into place, shielding his body from the roaming eyes of his captor. (Though he could not see this demon's face, he could feel the prickle of its eyes staring at him.)
What did this sick creature have in store for him? What was going to happen now?
Would anyone be able to hear his screams should they be forcibly ripped from his throat?
The clattering of metal against metal startled him, the noise originating from what he deduced to be a table of some kind. It was hard to tell due to that light continually glaring down at him. (Was he imagining things or did the light's hatred for him seem to grow?)
Suddenly, the light's glare disappeared as he watched a hand gently push it away.
The stranger began to hum to their self, the melody's eerie tune echoing throughout the room. It carried a familiar ring and the voice humming the tune sounded so familiar. He found himself listening closely in hopes of recognizing the voice.
Then the stranger's humming dissolved into quiet words.
"Kagome, Kagome…kago no naka no tori wa…"
'That voice…no…please.' he found himself pleading, tears trying their hardest to blur his vision.
He heard the clinking of metal again and from the corner of his eye, he could see a white-clad arm rise up to its owner's face, as if they were inspecting something.
"Itsu itsu deyaru?"
He remembered hearing this song long ago, back during the beginning of his exile.
Back when he first met his Suzaku.
Suzaku had actually been the one to teach the song to him. It was an old children's game called "Kagome Kagome". The game was similar to one that his mother had taught him called "Ring Around the Rosie", but there were a few differences.
The major difference was the song that was sung and the second difference was how the game was played.
In "Ring Around the Rosie", children held hands and ran around in a circle, singing the song. At the end of the song, all the children would scream "And we all fall down!!" and would plop to the ground in giggling heaps.
In "Kagome Kagome", one child would be chosen as the "oni" or "demon" of the game and would sit in the middle of the circle with their eyes covered. The other children would then join hands and would run around the "oni", chanting the song. At the end of the song, the children would ask "Now who is the one standing behind you?" and the middle child would have to guess the name of the person behind them. If they guessed correctly, that person would take their place as the "oni" and the game would begin anew. If they guessed incorrectly, then they would remain as the "oni" until they could guess right.
He had not wanted to play, but Nunnally expressed an interest in playing…so he grudgingly agreed to play.
Nunnally had become the first "oni", leaving he and Suzaku to join hands and chant the song as she giggled in the middle of it all. It had been rather easy to figure out who was standing behind who--there was only three of them playing after all--, but Nunnally and Suzaku had still had a lot of fun.
He had fun too…but was just to stubborn to admit it.
When Suzaku became the "oni", he and Nunnally twirled around the brunet as they sang. When the song ended, the two siblings would play a quick game of "Rock-Paper-Scissors" to decide who would be behind Suzaku.
Nunnally won, of course.
And when he became the "oni", Suzaku and Nunnally decided to forget all about the game's rules and "attack" him.
Their reasoning had been that he was being a stubborn grouch and they just wanted to hear him laugh, but that did not excuse their act of tickling him until he cried for mercy.
In any case, he was a fast learner and had learned the song rather quickly.
But to hear it again--now--in such a familiar voice…it was terrifying.
He heard the soft pat of something being placed near his head and he heard a glassy tapping nose mingle with the stranger's seemingly soothing voice.
"Yoake no ban ni…"
As the fresh words rolled off the demon's tongue, he felt a pinch within his left forearm as something sharp was stuck into him.
He wanted to yell, to scream at this stranger to let him go. He wanted to be set free and he wanted to see his knight again--which was something he feared had already happened. But like his past attempts, this proved futile. His mouth opened, but no words would come out. He desperately began to pull at his restraints as tears finally began to trickle out of his eyes.
He hoped that this was some cruel joke or a terrible dream. He shut his eyes tightly and wished for it all to end.
He heard the other click their tongue in disapproval as the needle and syringe was set down.
"Now, now." the other chided, the sound of a chair scraping against tile flooring as they stood. "Lelouch, relax."
He felt a pair of hands cup his cheeks and his watery eyes opened partially despite himself.
He regretted it. He really regretted opening his eyes.
Because the sight of the other's face tore at his heart strings and forced more tears to fall from his eyes.
The brunet was smiling down at him in the sweetest of ways and his spectacle-covered emerald irises held a warmth that was all wrong for the situation.
"The medicine I just gave you will help you to relax." Suzaku informed the frightened teen.
The brunet slid a hand up to wipe at the tears that were drenching Lelouch's face.
"It's good to be relaxed during an operation, after all."
Lelouch's eyes widened as the brunet pulled away and began to sing the next line of the children's melody that he had been quietly singing moments before.
"Tsuru to kame ga subetta…"
Lelouch stared in silent horror as Suzaku lifted a silver scalpel up in one hand.
He tried to struggle--despite knowing its futility--, but he made a horrid discovery.
He could not move. He was completely paralyzed.
"Silly little Lulu." Suzaku cooed, the hand holding the scalpel drifting towards the neckline of Lelouch's gown. "Did I not just tell you that I gave you medication to help you relax?"
Lelouch's breathing became erratic and his chest ached with the intense beating that his heart was undergoing. Tears continued to pour out of his eyes, damping his hair and the cloth beneath him.
'Suzaku, please let me go!!' he cried. 'I don't know what I've done to upset you!! Whatever I've done, I'm sorry!! I'm so sorry!! Please don't do this!!'
He felt a slight pulling at the front of his gown and heard the rip of fabric as the scalpel cut through the thin material with ease.
"I know you must be wondering how it came to this." Suzaku began suddenly, taking his time in slicing through the fabric. "Well, there really isn't much to explain. Simply put, I gave you my heart once and now I'm taking it back."
Suzaku set the scalpel to the side for a moment, his fingers flicking the separated pieces of fabric away from his target. Once that was done, he reached out for his scalpel and held it up.
'Suzaku, please stop!!!'
Lelouch wanted to scream that. He wanted to scream other things too. Things like "I thought you loved me!!!" and other things along the lines of "You promised, Suzaku!!! You swore yourself to me!!!".
'I…love you…' he wept. 'Doesn't that mean something to you?'
Suzaku brought the scalpel down to the teen's chest, the instrument's sharp edge hovering over the flawless expanse of skin separating it from the vital organ beating below.
And Lelouch was given no warning except the sharp pain that flooded his senses.
The scalpel's sharp edge cut downward, leaving blooming roses of scarlet in its wake. It cut hard and deep--as was its purpose--and once it had created a neat 10-inch slit, it slid out and hovered over its prey once more, the scarlet petals it had collected glistening and dripping down its silvery surface.
Rivers of scarlet poured out of the fresh cut, staining Lelouch's pale skin and trickling over his sides where it began to seep into the white cloth of the gurney he was strapped to.
Suzaku stared down at him, admiring the damage he and his instrument had caused.
"As beautiful inside as you are outside." he complimented, his lips set into a seemingly permanent smile. "Forgive me if I screw up any incisions, medical books can only teach a person so much, you know."
He appeared to be ignorant--or perhaps uncaring--of the pain he had caused his patient.
Fresh tears blurred Lelouch's vision and his chest ached with an intense pain. His wound was stinging fiercely and his breathes were becoming labored as fear and betrayal were squeezing precious life from his heart. A scream stuck in his throat as Suzaku's scalpel plunged into him once more, slicing through layers of skin and muscle as it began to cut a horizontal line across his blood-soaked chest.
It hurt so very, very much.
But Lelouch was not sure which was more painful: this torture he was suffering through or the knowledge that Suzaku did not care.
Many more screams stuck in his throat as his would-be lover sliced and sawed through layers of tissue and bone, all in a mission to reach the beating organ underneath.
Splatters of blood lie in puddles surrounding the blood-stained gurney as heavy droplets dripped over the its sides. The scarlet substance was trickling down to Lelouch's abdomen and pooling within his navel. Suzaku's hands and the ends of his sleeves were thoroughly saturated in the scarlet substance.
Lelouch could feel warm liquid filling his lungs through the puncture that Suzaku's scalpel had "accidentally" created. It was becoming so hard to breath and once a cough of crimson splattered out his mouth--and consequentially onto Suzaku's face--, his eyes slipped shut.
His slowing heart was beating its last few beats and he could feel his consciousness slipping.
"Ushiro no shoumen daare?" Suzaku sang out suddenly, his voice returning to that misleading soothing tone it had carried earlier.
Serena: This was supposed to be a one-shot, but then I got down to this part and I thought, "It would be scarier if I left people to wonder whether Lelouch was dreaming or not.". So, I just decided to make this a two-shot instead. [shrugs] Meh. Oh, yes…and the last part will not be posted until Halloween night. [is shot] Oi, Oi!! Please don't kill me!!! D: [flees with an angry mob chasing her] [blows whistle; mob halts] By the way, that part with the children's game "Kagome Kagome", the translation of the last line may or may not be completely correct. It is similar to what it actually says, but I suppose that it depends on the translator. I got the last line's translation from some website. The same thing is on Wikipedia too…so meh.