It's quite late, but I was whacked in the head by a sudden bout of inspiration and felt that I should write something since I've been suffering through a considerable writer's block for the past few months, and of course I haven't wrote anything for Beyblade in a little more than a year and felt that something needed to be done about that. Anyways, it's 3 in the morning, I'm pretty confident on the spelling, though I'm sure I have alot of fragments, and I'm not sure if this story makes any sense at all. It's weird, even by my standards, but whateves. I actually like it...which is saying alot because I usually hate something as soon as I type it. So, review, give me some feedback, if you see anything that needs improvement -coughliketheendingcough- which I rewrote about three times but it's not much of an ending. Whoa, bed time for this girl, can't think...rambling...gotta get up in, like, two hours.

Disclaimer: Notta.

Everything was spinning, churning, spiralling out of control. He felt himself falling, falling, falling, falling into the endless depths of his own darkness; felt the intangible fingers of madness slowly, possessively wrapping themselves around his all too willing mind. He no longer cared and accepted insanity's alluring embrace, willingly and without compromise- even felt himself relishing in it.

He had to admit, there was something beautiful about this total loss of control.

He felt free, as if all the chains-chains that he hadn't really been aware of- that surrounded him had suddenly disappeared. The burden of responsibility, for himself and for his own actions was gone. He didn't have to worry anymore, and simply had no reason to. It was not like he had anyone left to impress, they had all left him far behind, either by dying or leaving without so much as a parting word. He didn't care; had stopped caring long ago.

Everything comes and goes…

Hadn't that been the truth with everything in his life? People came and people went, and he had learned a little late not to get attached. Now he didn't let people get close at all because he knew that he could not bear the pain of being left alone again.

But he wasn't alone…he was never alone, because he knew that he could always find his refuge within the depths of his own mind. Those crawling fingers were all he needed, they comforted him and eased his pain; let him believe that everything was alright (though somewhere deep down he knew that it really wasn't). But those kinds of thoughts were pushed far from his mind because he refused to face the harsh reality of life, of his life. His life of the person he was-had once been- was now over, in this strange outside world of pain and harsh realities he didn't exist (and perhaps he never had), it didn't exist, the only thing that existed was his world, the reality he had created for himself where he chose who came and who went.

Everyone is always coming and going…why can't they just stay where they are?

"Leave me alone…"

"Do you really want me to leave?"

Leaving…it was the thing he hated the most, though maybe he was not so different from those who had left him behind, after all, hadn't he left the world behind…?

He didn't care. When he thought about such things, such small, insignificant things, he felt those cold (so cold), slender fingers slide over his flesh, and that red mouth whisper sweet enticements into his ear, coaxing him back inside himself, away from the world…away from the small glimpse of sanity that he had left. He was always unable to resist, and found himself, unsurprisingly, not wanting to. Oh, how he craved to feel Insanity's arms wrapped tight around him, holding him, comforting him. Often times he found himself trembling in desperation when those arms suddenly disappeared, and he found himself back in that other place, cold and so utterly alone.

Coming and going, coming and going. Disappearing…one by one…

But it would not be so long before he felt those fingers trailing down his pale skin once again, and soft words coaxing him…not long before he found himself drowning inside those brilliant red eyes of burning flame. (The flames of Hell coming to devour his soul). Eyes that commanded his attention and forced him away from that other world.

"I'll never leave you alone…"

"They always say that…and then they're gone."

Gone without a word…as if they never existed. Maybe I'm the one who never really existed…

"You'll never be alone again…I promise."

Those soft lips always silenced any protest he might have made, gentle, yet commanding; stealing all his breath away. Those numbing, creeping fingers touching him, distracting him, drowning him in their pleasure. He felt himself slipping under, losing himself to that deceivingly gentle touch, felt himself falling so fast in a never-ending downward spiral. That red mouth curving into a grin…something so friendly, yet at the same so frighteningly feral. Smiling, laughing, as he fell…


Down towards the burning fires of those red eyes, those eyes that were his Hell and his salvation. Those eyes that protected him and condemned him…and let him fall towards those fiery depths of that beautiful thing called Insanity; cold and so utterly alone.

The 'He' is Tala, I know that wasn't readily explained but I'm trying to be cryptic here, and 'Insanity', if you haven't already guessed is none other than Kai.

Review, leave me some love.