"…No…No!" A frightened voice cried.
"Cain…murderer…cursed child…cursed one…"
"…Stop…" He sobbed, burying his pale face in his hands. His fingers tightened as the voices didn't cease, and his gripped and pulled at his dark silken hair.
"Cursed child…abandoned by God…marked for death…marked for death…"
His eyes clamped shut and he drew his hands over his ears, trying to vain to keep his tears from spilling like blood.
Suddenly… they ceased.
After a few apprehensive seconds, he opened his eyes and. A few more moments and he withdrew his hands from his ears, his lungs heaving as he tried to slow his thundering heartbeat. His golden green eyes began to lift in relief—
Until he heard a chuckle that chilled every drop of blood in his body.
HE was here…
The man laughed at the horrified look in his son's eye, and the hand that lay inside his black coat began to inch towards the pale face.
"No…no…you're dead…I—I killed you…" He whispered in fright.
The man laughed again.
"You cannot kill me you cursed child… one whose veins bleed poison… I will always be with you... just turn around…"
His green eyes tentatively peered around, and a strangled gasp caught in his throat as he saw a river of dripping blood behind him.
"AAAUUGGGGHHH!" He screamed as pain erupted from his shoulders and back. He fell to knees, hugging his arms and sobbing as crimson bled from the horrific lash marks that criss-crossed along his white skin
"No…" He cried. "No father…" .
The man chuckled again, stepping forward and running his cold fingers through his son's dark locks.
"Poor lonely child…" He grinned. "All alone… even forsaken by God…what a poor, wretched sight…" The touch turned to a grip and he gasped aloud as he felt his head being yanked up.
"A wretched sight indeed…" Another voice echoed.
His green eyes shot up and widened in horror as another was before him, this one with white hair and a cold smile. His half-brother.
"A pathetic creature…" The second murmured, his white medical coat trailing behind him as he approached. "Lower than an animal…"
His eyes clamped shut again as he felt the cold, sharp steel of a scalpel being pressed against his throat. He gritted his teeth, but even then a cry slipped out as his father's hand gave another sharp yank, forcing his head back.
The second man's eyes glinted viciously as he pressed the blade closer.
"Murderer…" He snarled.
"Murderer." The first laughed.
Another face. This time his mother, his father's older sister…
"Murderer…" She whispered, fading once again into the darkness.
His cousin, Suzette. The one he had loved.
More voices. All crying. All weeping. All screaming his name!
MURDERER! GOD'S CURSED CHILD!
A clap of thunder echoed through the hallowed mansion as Cain jerked up, his hands shaking and his eyes wide with fright. His gaze flew around the room, and seeing the familiar layout of his bedchamber, his mind slowly returned to reality.
The handsome young man wearily sat up, his fingertips reaching up to touch his pale forehead. But his body jerked in fear once more as he felt his wet skin. He squinted franticly in the shadowed darkness, but let out a breathy exhale when he realized it was sweat, not blood.
Cain shifted his bare shoulders and felt a layer of moisture that coated his back and chest. It wasn't unusual though. He often sweated during sleep.
Especially during nightmares.
And just like every other night, after catching his bearings, Cain felt his mind being flooded with memories. But not just ones of the nightmares. Of his childhood as well.
And when he ventured into that veiled piece of his mind, he was gripped with two overwhelming sensations.
One scant. Brief periods of happiness. The fields of England in the summer. The animals. The flowers. The sky…
But like Cain and Abel of old, one overtook the other in a sea of blood.
Pain. Unquenchable pain. Longing. Loss. Hatred.
And with those memories, a new flood was born in the young earl. Crystal tears fell into the white sheets as Cain silently held himself and wept.
He shut his eyes, trying with failing efforts to ward off the eclipsing darkness that surrounded him. But as the storm clouds had buried the moon, so could Cain not reclaim possession of his mind.
His tears flowed like his blood when he father had tortured him. Ripped vein after vein of the boy's white flesh and licked the blood off his fingers with a heartless smile.
They flowed when his father let him have a new animal or object to treasure, only to have it torn from him just to prove how cursed his little hands were.
And they flowed when the boy escaped briefly to cry alone in the dark woods… where no one ever was looking for him…no one…no one…
Cain's head jerked up as his eyes saw the small light of a candle near the door. He peered closer, salt water still flowing as he immediately recognized the face.
The manservant took a bold step forward, trying to see his master in the midst of the darkness.
"My Lord Cain, are you all right sir?"
When Cain didn't reply, Riff approached the canopy bed, and as he lifted the candle towards the earl's face, he felt his heart sink in his chest.
"My Lord…" The silver-haired man murmured in grief. Cain didn't reply, choosing instead to lift a hand and brush away some of his fallen tears.
"Lord Earl, is there anything you require sir?" Riff entreated, searching for any sort of whim that would lift his master's soul.
But Cain did not answer. Instead, he looked longingly at the other man, his beautiful brow creased in unimaginable sorrow.
Swallowing the large lump in his throat, Riff moved closer to Cain, reaching out a hesitant but tender hand to touch the quivering shoulder.
But when Riff got close enough to lay a hand on the seventeen-year-old, Cain jumped forward and buried his face in the man's chest, his hands clutching tightly at Riff's coat and his eyes leaking fresh tears.
The manservant's heart fell deeper in his chest as he tangibly felt his young master's anguish. He carefully set the candle on the night table and wrapped his arms around the pale, shivering body. Cain clenched his jaw as he held onto Riff, desperately trying to hold back the floodgates of his black, tattered soul.
But slowly, the young earl felt the warmth seep into his naked, chilled body. Riff's hands were loving as he smoothed them gently across Cain's scarred back, and his steady breaths drowned out the sound of the younger man's gasping. Riff continued to hold him as the thunder rumbled in the dark outdoors, and finally Cain found his voice.
"…He was there…in my dream. They all were… mother…Suzette…Jizabel…f—father… they were going to kill me."
Cain's body trembled in terror at the memory, and his pale skin turned translucent as it gripped strainingly at Riff's coat.
"They are coming… they won't stop…HE WONT' STOP!… until my soul is damned and sent to hell…" He murmured shakily.
But Cain's cries were ceased as he felt two gentle, strong hands take either side of his face and lift it up.
"Lord Cain," Riff spoke solemnly. "There is no need to give heed to these dreams. They are dreams and nothing more."
"Your father cannot harm you my lord. And as for any other demon who comes for your soul, I swear I will give my life and my everything to protect you. They will not harm a hair on your head."
Cain's golden green widened at Riff's proclamation, and his thin lips parted in shock. Riff's own impassive face softened in an adoring mask at the sight of his master, and his lips curved. His tender fingers pushed a dark lock of hair behind Cain's pierced ears.
"…Cain…" He murmured sacredly.
But their expressions reversed in the blink of an eye as Cain grabbed his servant's face and pressed his lips to Riff's mouth, his hands weaving through the short, silvery hair. After a few moments of mild surprise, Riff smiled inside and passionately kissed his beloved.
And slowly, they were lowered back onto the damp white of the bed.
Cain's gasps were soon a different sort as Riff pressed his warm body against the young earl's. The dark haired youth stretched his arms above his head, his lungs panting as he felt Riff's tongue cleanse his clammy form. The manservant traced his tongue along the edge of Cain's narrow jaw, his lips drifting down and smoothing along the white neck and collarbone, and further down to the pale pink of his nipples.
Riff's soothing lips attached to one of the knobs and his tongue lightly teased, earning a moan from the younger man. He sucked harder, and felt the pale body undulate and shift with pleasure rather than pain.
The manservant's eyes drifted along the contours of the young earl. Cain's body was truly God's picture of an angel. Dove white skin folded into long, elegant contours of a feline form. A cat-like body to match his cat-like eyes.
Perfection, even with the scars that marred his back.
Riff couldn't help but he awed yet again by the masterpiece sculpted by God himself. The world also saw the beauty and power of the Earl Cain Hargreaves, who sat on a pinnacle so high no one would dare to touch him. He was the sun melting wax wings, unphased by man or demon. With his collection of poisons and the knowledge to use them, he'd never lost a battle, much less a war.
And yet…that picture was not even close to the true Cain.
In truth, the soul that inhabited such a beautiful body was anything but powerful, as the child he'd been was anything but innocent. Cain could contend with any outside foe, but he ran from the monster that was his past and the recesses of his soul. No, in truth, he was more frail and vulnerable that any other. Cain had been broken so many times he did not even realize he had a whole form. He assumed that he should lie in pieces, trying to hold onto himself but losing fragments every time the wind blew.
Inside the body of the beautiful man, he was a child. Forever hiding…with no one to seek him.
Expect for one.
Cain let out a breathy moan as Riff's mouth traveled lower and engulfed his aroused manhood. The earl shifted his thin hips, burying his fingers in Riff's silver hair as the skillful mouth bobbed and teased him to ecstasy. His eyelids fell once more and in spite of the lingering blood on his inward wounds, Cain smiled.
Riff's caresses were always the same, and that familiarity was a blanket engulfing his shivering body. The touches were light, yet deep, and always so gentle. Tender and loving movements, unlike his father and so many others that had battered their way into his body and soul.
But not Riff.
"…Ahh…" Cain moaned as Riff slid his warm tongue along his inner thighs. Riff's low grunts echoed in the young man's ears and he felt his body responding even more to the attentions. Cain opened his eyes, his decisive mind choosing that he was ready. The earl almost smiled again at the thought that even though he submitted, he still was holding the reigns. Was this kind of security a luxury that could be given to someone like him? A black sheep forsaken by God and everyone else?
The silver-haired man looked up at the young master, and he immediately understood. He withdrew his mouth from the erect organ and propped himself up, preparing to position Cain. But when Cain began to shift on his own, Riff drew back, and his eyes widened as Cain rolled onto his stomach, bearing his disfigured back and shoulders.
"Riff…" Cain murmured. "…Touch my scars…they're burning…"
The servant's eyes softened and his heart leapt at the subtle implications of the request. Cain never let anyone see or know about his scars, let alone touch them. The act the master was allowing Riff to do was almost scared, a sign of the manservant's utter devotion to him, and a sign that Cain actually had one person he could trust and cherish.
Riff covered the white body with his more muscular form, as if he were acting out his promise to shield the master at all costs. He mounted Cain, and he gently and adoringly began to stroke the laced scars with his fingers and tongue, loving every inch of the flushed skin.
And it was through this careful act, that some of the heavy burden that rested on Cain's back began to move onto the other man, so that the load was distributed on four shoulders instead of just two.
Riff didn't cease his gentle attentions as he climbed further onto Cain and moved his own manhood inside his master, earning several delicious gasps from the pale angel. His thrusts began low and deep, and he felt Cain writhe and arch in overwhelming pleasure. They grew harder and faster, earning both grunts from Riff and higher cries from Cain.
With not an ounce of ill intent, the manservant lead his frail master to ecstasy, turning the shivering, crying boy into a heat flushed, satisfied beauty.
Cain lay panting on Riff's chest afterwards, hugging the man with a tight grip and a musing smile playing at his lips.
The manservant looked down adoringly, thrilled to see that Cain was back to his wily self, at least for one night. He weaved his fingers through the silken nest of dark brown hair, planting a chaste kiss on the top of the master's head.
And though the storm of life blew pieces of him and the world away, Riff knew one thing was certain in his life till the stars fell out of the sky.
Even if God abandoned this child, he would not.
They would go to hell.
This is my first Count Cain fic, even though I've been obsessed with the series for eons (Kaori Yuki is god...seriously, what a manga master). Though actually,...I guess this is my first NON Junjou or Hatsukoi fic XD
Hooray for variety I guess. Even a little.
Anyways, hope you all enjoyed the oneshot, as this is one of my absolute favorite things I've written. I've never ever read a horror manga that impacted me as much as Godchild, and I find the relationship between Riff and Cain (despite the lack of on screen smut...) to be both beautiful and moving. Kaori Yuki really creates such wonderfully tragic, lovely characters (hooray for abuse and gore), and it was my pleasure to convey my own thoughts on her work.
Hope you drop me a line :)
The Black Flamingo 101