Disclaimer: I own none of Kyou Kara Maou or The Tell Tale Heart, written by Edgar Allen Poe.
Note: This is a two part story, written just for fun. Enjoy.
Part 1: Scary Stories
9:30 pm, Mazoku Time
Rain pelted the large silver windows of Covenant Castle, gathering as a low monotonous rumble. All throughout the town people rushed to the sanctity of their houses, trying to hide themselves from the sky's tears. Yet a small group of those who dwell within the palace were gathered around a fireplace in one of the old libraries.
Amongst the antique bookcases in an old armchair, a tall, slender, brown-haired man sat, flipping through the pages of an old book. He smiled as he found what he was looking for, "here's a good one."
The small blonde sitting on the floor huffed, "that's what you said about the last three, Weller."
"I'm trying my best, Wolfram."
"Well try harder."
Before the argument could go any farther, the young king stepped in, hands up in a calming gesture, "guys that's enough. Wolfram, I'm sure Conrad has a scary one this time." The prince crossed his arms stubbornly and pouted.
"You always take his side, cheater."
"I do not, and I'm not a cheater."
"Fine, you're a wimp."
"Oi," Gwendal muttered, glaring at them coldly. The number of wrinkles between his eyebrows increased significantly. "Are we going to hear the story or not?" The two settled down momentarily and turned to Conrad who began to read.
"Ok, this is 'The Tell-Tale Heart,' by Edgar Allen Poe."
"He's an author, Wolfram."
"How was I supposed to know?"
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture — a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees — very gradually — I made up my mind to take…the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever…"
He paused for a moment to catch a glimpse of the audiences' expressions. Wolfram was unfazed, a great contrast to Yuuri who seemed shocked by the fact that someone could be killed for such a trivial reason as one's eye. Conrad couldn't help but smile, the king could be so innocent at times.
He continued on with the story, picking specific areas where he would become more dramatic. As he neared the stories climax, his voice became deeper and eerie.
"Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! — No, no! They heard! — They suspected! — They knew! — they were making a mockery of my horror! — this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! — and now — again! — hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!"
By now the room was dead silent, a ghostly anxiousness captivating the listeners.
" "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!""
It was comical almost, the immediate change of attitude amongst those who were listening. Yuuri shivered, "creepy. Wouldn't you say, Wolf-, Wolf?"
Looking over he nearly collapsed with laughter. Wolfram had his face buried within a big pillow and had jammed his pale fingers into his ears. Yuuri reached over to pat his back, yet only serving to send the blonde into hyperventilation. "Wolf, it's just a story…., it's not that scary."
"Shut up, hennachoko!" The prince avoided his gaze, blushing helplessly. How could he be the only one frightened by the story?
"Do you want to hear another one," Conrad asked cheerfully, as if he didn't notice his little brother's agony.
"NO!" With that the blonde had darted out of the room towards the confines of his bedroom.
That night Wolfram jolted awake to the sound of incessant heartbeats ringing in his head. "Dammit," he muttered, "damn Weller." Just then a flash of light enflamed the sky and he threw himself upon Yuuri, who woke shocked as he was crushed by a trembling Mazoku prince.
Before he could say anything more, Wolfram interrupted him, "this isn't my fault, its Weller's!"
The king looked at him disbelievingly while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What, did he throw you on me?"
"No! It's just… he…," Wolfram looked away, now feeling the belated wave of embarrassment. "He read that stupid story…," his voice trailed off.
"Wolfram, is that still bothering you?"
"Never mind! Just go to sleep."
Yuuri sighed, "Wolfram, you don't need to be afraid… I'm here."
The prince rolled his emerald eyes, "wonderful, I'm with a wimp."
Wolfram woke again a few hours later, but not for the same reason. He groaned as he sat up, noticing how his nightgown had been pushed up around his waist from all the movement he made in his sleep.
Trying to quietly smooth out the now wrinkled garment, his hand met another, one that was perched on his pale thigh, precariously close to his groin. "Yuuri!" He hissed, pushing the hand away. The boy woke, a drowsy look in his eyes.
"Neh, Wolfram, what's wrong this time?" His voice was soft and childlike. Yet within it lurked a hint of disappointment.
"Nevermind, hennachoko." With that he lay back against the pillows once again, preparing himself for sleep once more when a thought dawned upon him. Had Yuuri been dreaming about someone? Was Yuuri upset that it was Wolfram who was in his bed? "Oi, cheater!"
"What are you talking about?" The king eyed him, clueless as to what Wolfram could possibly mean.
"Who were you dreaming about? Was it Weller? Gods forbid, it wasn't Gwendal was it!"
Yuuri blushed, realizing what his fiancé was blabbering about. Had he said anything in his sleep? Suddenly nervous he dug himself within the sheets, pretending to be asleep. But this did not satisfy Wolfram.
"It was Weller, wasn't it!"
A muffled noise was his only answer.
"EH!" he began pulling himself over Yuuri, attempting to rip away the sheets when two long arms bound themselves around his waist. The prince froze, this was not what he had expected. "Yuuri, what-!"
"It was you, okay!" The small king declared, avoiding his fiancé's sea-green eyes. "I'm a wimp, just go ahead and say it."
To Yuuri's surprise Wolfram remained silent, the only sound being the shifting of blankets as a hand grasped his chin gently, turning his face upwards as the boy with flaxen hair pulled him into a soft kiss.
"Yuuri…do you…," Wolfram panted quietly, "do you want to?"