by: S. Schumaker
Standard Disclaimers Apply
(AN: Eee! I'm so excited for this chapter! It has so much action and mystery!! You're gonna love it, I hope... Anyway, I've been planning out this chapter since forever! It was actually the first thing I thought of when I thought up this story! It's where the title came from! Anyway, enjoy it, and please let me know what you think of it, it'll be pretty violent, so you young ones, don't read without parental supervision, okay? Enjoy!!)
"A-ki-to-chan." A voice, whispering a name he hadn't gone by in years, roused him from unconsciousness. He tried to open his eyes, but they felt on fire, burning with pain. Stirring, he tried to move his body, finding himself bound to something, tightly. He wiggled his hips, a deep pain in his back from being pressed up against something hard, something solid.
The voice continued softly whispering his name; Akito tried focusing on it, hoping it would pull him back from slumber. "Wake up!" It shouted, followed instantly by a splash of cold water to his face. His right eye began blinking slowly, opening up to a harsh light. A man's figure stood before him, Akito's vision blurred. As he tried opening his left eye, he found he simply couldn't. It was swollen shut. A flash of recollection hit Akito; he remembered being attacked at his own home. The man that raced toward him, the fight that had ensued. He recalled giving in to darkness, his body unable to handle the abuse. They must have taken him somewhere.
Akito forced a cough, a small trail of blood dripping down his chin. As he shifted slightly, he found himself in a dank, dark building that smelled of mildew. He sat on a cold concrete floor, his back pressed against a wooden beam. Before him stood a man with a small chair behind him. Akito moved his fingers, wanting to bring them into a fist to knock out the stranger, to escape. He tried lifting his hand, bring it up, but he felt a cold metal touching his skin, shackling his hands together. Handcuffs.
"Finally, you're awake." Akito blinked a few more times, the man before him coming slowly into focus. "Only took you an hour. Gerald must have done some job on you, Akito Hayama."
As Akito heard his real name, he nearly choked. No one knew him by that name, not anymore. Who was this man? He began looking over his features, his chiseled brow, and his graying hair. He was dressed in an expensive Armani suit, his leather shoes clicking softly against the concrete floor as he paced before Akito.
"Who are you?" Akito's voice didn't sound like his own; it was harsh, broken, hurt. The stranger pulled up the chair, straddling it backwards before Akito. He laughed a long, loud laugh. Akito shifted nervously.
"I almost forgot! We've never actually met. I'm Jean-Pierre Noire, pleased to meet you." He held out a hand for Akito to shake, laughing again. "Oh, guess handshaking is out of the question, huh?" He stood again, pulling the chair away. Akito glared at him, the "joke" falling short on his captive.
Noire began walking around the beam holding Akito, his laughter fading to a slight chuckle. "Quite the predicament you're in, Akito-chan." He bent down behind Akito, picked up the handcuffs restraining his hands, before yanking them out and away from Akito. Akito's shoulders screamed in pain as they were pulled away from his body, slamming into the wooden beam behind him.
Akito let out a slight groan as Noire dropped his hands and walked around to face him once more. "You're the man that contracted my latest job against Sana Kurata, aren't you?" Akito asked, adjusting his arms to fight the pain.
His kidnapper smiled, nodding his head slowly. "Very good, Akito. You're catching on." Noire sat himself back down in the chair, looking off to his left.
Akito followed his gaze, seeing a set of steel doors shut tight. As Akito turned back around, he found Noire's eyes. "So, what'd you do? Contract me out just so you could find me, is that it?" Akito shifted his numbing legs.
"I'm impressed, Akito-chan. You catch on pretty quick." Noire dropped down to the floor, sitting atop Akito's fussing legs. He brushed a lock of Akito's blood soaked hair out of his eyes, pushing it back behind his ears. "I have to admit, I thought it'd be a little bit harder to find you. But, your dad was right. All I had to do was find the love of your life first. He knew you'd come crawling out of the shadows sooner or later."
Akito shifted under the weight of Noire, nearly choking out: "My dad? What?"
Noire simply laughed again, standing up and walking toward those steel doors. "You'll find out in due time, Akito-chan." He chuckled out before opening the doors and disappearing behind them, leaving Akito alone in the darkness.
Akito looked at the closed door that slammed behind Noire. He shouted at it: "What do you want with me?" But, of course, he didn't get a response. Akito forced himself to his feet, using the support from the beam to position his legs beneath him and pull himself to a stand. He looked around the room, trying to think of a way out.
First thing he had to do was to lose the handcuffs. Struggling against them, he thought frantically for a solution to get out of the bonds. Leaning forward, he pulled his fingers in tightly toward the palm of his hand before pushing away from the beam with his feet, trying to pull his hands out of the constricting handcuffs. The metal began cutting into his wrists from the force, blood seeping down to his fingers.
Eventually, the pain became too much for him and he released the pressure, letting his back fall against the pole again, defeated. He rolled his head back against the wood, allowing his good eye to close, to rest. His head ached, his back was sore, his eyes felt like they were on fire, and now his wrists were pooling fresh blood, but he had to try anything possible to get out of there. He could already tell that this wasn't your average kidnapping.
"Catching up on some sleep, then?" A male's voice laced with an Australian accent alerted Akito. The large steel doors slamming shut behind him. Akito forced open his eyes, blinking away the pain. He looked up, startled to see the man he had fought with in front of his home standing before him once more. Akito smiled to himself as he saw the man's black eye that he had received from the previous fight.
"Actually, yeah." Akito smarted back, pulling his body up straight, looking the man in the eyes. "Gerald, I presume?"
The man grunted as a response, flinging the chair out of his way. Akito watched as it flipped over and slid along the floor. Gerald readied himself in an attack stance.
"Now comes the torture, I presume?" Akito asked, readying himself as well. Gerald simply pulled back a fist and sent a blow to Akito's face in response. Akito's head whipped to the side from the attack, blood from his mouth flying across the room. Before Akito could adjust to the new found pain, another punch sent his head flying the opposite way. Punch after punch landed and Akito held on, not willing to back down, not willing to lose consciousness with him again.
Soon Gerald stopped, wiping away Akito's blood from his hands on a towel, staining it red. Letting loose a laugh, he slipped a hand into the pocket of his jeans, bringing out a pair of brass knuckles. Sliding it over his hand and tightening it up into a fist, he wielded it toward Akito.
With his first punch, two of Akito's teeth popped out of place nearly choking him. Gerald paused for a second, allowing Akito to spit them and a large amount of blood to the floor. "Ready?" Gerald asked before bringing his fist and the brass knuckles across Akito's head again. But even with Akito fighting to stay conscious, fighting to stay strong, the second hit was simply too much for him and he blacked out again, his legs giving out underneath him. Akito went sliding to the floor in defeat, a pool of blood trailing down from his gashed lips and cut cheeks.
Hours flew by as the pain in Akito's head became unbearable. As Akito found himself drifting in and out of dreamland, his mind ran over the words of Jean-Pierre Noire.
"Your dad was right. All I had to do was find the love of your life…."
His mind was restless, unfocused. He was somewhere between reality and fantasy. He imagined himself chasing after his father, screaming after him. "What is going on? Who is this Noire guy?" But the harder Akito ran, the faster his legs moved, the farther away his father became. He could never catch up, could never get a straight answer. Just when he was about to give up on the chase, a slamming door awoke him, bringing him back to real life, back to his captivity.
Akito felt someone behind him, someone unlocking the handcuffs. He wished for the strength he needed to escape, but his head felt like it had gone fifty rounds through a blender and couldn't seem to concentrate, couldn't focus. He allowed the stranger to lift him up and sit him down in a chair, the handcuffs quickly snapping into place behind him. Akito permitted his head to drop down against the back of the chair, his strength gone to the point where he couldn't even keep it raised.
He suddenly felt something cold against his cheek. He jerked away from the sensation, but was unable to move far enough away. The cold continued. He forced his tired, aching eyes open staring into the face of Noire, realizing that he was attempting to wipe the blood away from his face. "Stop." Akito barely whispered out, pulling away from the touch. Noire tried to continue in erasing the drying residue. "Just stop and tell me what you're after."
Noire nodded, backing off. He dropped the washcloth in a nearby bucket before taking a seat across from Akito. "Professional, I like that." Noire gave him a smile. "I want the documents. I know you have them." His face turned serious, almost deadly.
Akito attempted to sit up as best he could. "What documents? You have to be more specific, Noire."
"The documents from your father. You inherited them, I presume."
Akito scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. What was this about? Akito thought back to when his family was killed, the weeks and months after their deaths. He barely recalled getting all the burial arrangements together, the funerals. Even the will reading was a blur; he fled the country soon afterwards. He couldn't remember a thing that he had inherited, especially documents.
After explaining this to Noire, about how his memories of that time were blurred due to the depression and the agony of it all, he suddenly saw a change in Noire's demeanor. His face twisted in anger, a blood vessel protruded out of his forehead. Akito focused on the vein, watching it in awe. "Don't lie to me, dick!" Noire flew out of his chair, thrusting his knee into Akito's groin.
His scream echoed in the near-empty room, his legs coming together in a vain attempt to protect himself. He kicked out a leg toward Noire, missing his shin by mere inches, his anger getting the best of him. "I'm not lying, asshole! What fuckin' documents?"
Akito watched as Noire forced himself to calm down, he watched as the tightened muscles in his neck relaxed. He soon sat back down in the chair in front of him, crossing his legs. "All right, Akito. I've got all the time in the world, so whenever you feel like remembering, you just let me know, okay?" Noire patted a hand on Akito's knee before standing and leaving the room, only to be replaced by Gerald again.
"Oh no. C'mon man." Akito groaned out, watching the metal door slam shut leaving him alone once again with his torturer.
This time, Gerald pulled out a whip, slapping it hard against the floor a few times in an attempt to frighten his victim. He threw a quick punch to knock Akito off his guard before uncuffing him and immediately rechaining him around the wooden beam, this time with his chest facing inward. As Akito hugged the pole, he looked behind him into Gerald's face. It was lit up with excitement, with joy. "Go ahead and have your fun, Gerry. I still won't know what your talking about when you're finished." Akito smirked, turning around and readying himself for the abuse.
Whip. Whip. Whip. Akito remained silent, his shirt ripping with each strike, blood dripping down onto his pants and down the back of his legs. "No screaming?" Gerald teased, throwing an especially hard blow.
"Ah." Akito breathed, his legs giving out beneath him. He dropped down to one knee, his hands clasping together from behind the girder. Whip. Whip. Whip. With each hit, Akito's voice got louder and louder, not being able to control it.
Gerald, taking deep pleasure in his craft, took a step or two back, priming his arm for the next blow. With all his strength, all his power he let loose one final whip onto Akito's back. As Akito screamed out in agony, dropping to the floor instantly, Gerald smiled before rolling the whip up and exiting the room, Akito's scream echoing throughout the room behind him.
When Gerald heard the slam of the door, he let loose a small laugh, walking up to a table where his boss and three other men sat playing poker. He set the bloody whip down nearby as he took a seat near Jean-Pierre Noire. "Do you think he's ready?" Noire asked, his words slightly muffled due to the large cigar hanging from his lip. His eyes studied a set of cards in his hand, moving and reorganizing them.
A man across the table threw a few chips into the ever-growing pot as Gerald answered: "Oh yeah, he's ready. And, if he's not...there's always phase two." Gerald laughed, looking to the left where a young woman, clothed only in a dress slip, huddled in a corner, her knees brought up against her chest. She lifted her head at their words, her mouth gagged with a handkerchief, her eyes red, cheeks stained with her falling tears.
Noire let out a chuckle, taking his cigar out of his mouth, the smoke trailing up to the ceiling. "Yes, indeed, phase two." He stood from the table, tossing out his winning poker hand as he left it. Walking over the the girl, he knelt down before her. She winced as he approached, turning her face away from him. Noire grabbed her chin, forcing her to look back up at him, he leaned down, raping her lips with his own briefly before tossing her face away. "Now don't you worry, you'll be able to play your part soon. Ms. Kurata."
To Be Continued . . .
(AN: Ah! Cliffhanger! What's you think of that? Violent, yes? Torture and loads of it! Poor Akito-kun! And, the next chapter you'll find out how Sana got there and all, okay? So, please leave your opinions, I'm dying to hear them!!! Thanks!)