Crossover - Kenzi X Kyo - Drabble - Forgive
Title: Forgive
Chapters: Drabble
Author: inuoloz [Oloz-san]
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Gore, Death, Dark
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Kenzi X Kyo
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Synopsis: An axe to symbolize obsession and blood to symbolize love.
Word Count: 1,133
Blood staining my face. Oh it was the greatest of pleasures. Axe in my hand and your limbs on the floor. The fun still was not over. Messily I wipe my hand across my face; freshly wet blood smearing my features. Moving over to your severed arm I grab the bleeding stub and stare at the limp hand. It was a pastel white, crystal clear compared to the rest of the blood splattered skin. A pink muscle edges out from my lips, coated with transparent saliva.
Greedily I lick the uncontaminated hand; spit coating the exterior. Soon the saliva turned to drool as the licks became less than enough. The axe drops to the floor and both my hands grip your arm. Each digit, starting with the thumb entered my oral cavern. Sucking on the thin fingers with ravaging hunger. Overwhelming crave. Suddenly the crave vanished. The pleasure sustained by sucking off each finger dissipated, died. I move my mouth away from the hand, hands still gripping the host-less limb. I twist the flesh, fingernails digging into the soft skin. More pressure applied, the arm makes a dull crunch. I drop it. A faint echo overtaking the room. On my knees I fall, tears streaming my snarl-contorted face. Hands now grip the bloodied carpet, soaked in crimson oozing up from the weight.
I slam my head against the floor; more splatters are added. Again I lift and slam it. Again. Again. Again. I call out your name. See? I love you. I cry your name again. See? I love you. Something in my stomach contorted. Some fire burned in my throat. Withheld bile rose up and splattered forth from my mouth, staining the floor with a new bodily fluid. I stare at the vomit. I laugh. Oh it was so funny. Hilarious how it all turned out. I find my axe, lift to my feet, and look at your severed, broken arm. I lift the handle over my head, nearly loosing balance from its weight. Down it comes. Severed arm severing again. The way the flesh so readily separated from each other. The way the blood so eagerly burst forth from the wound. The way it all mixed together. Flesh, blood, vomit. I toss the axe across the room. It made an awful noise. I turned to leave. Searching for the knob in the dim-lighted room was such a hassle. So bothersome. Twisting the metal piece much like your arm the door opened. I stare out into the hallway, no one. Leaving your apartment I silently close the door and whisper you good night. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in the morning.
Timid footsteps wake me as I muttered your forgotten name. Something inside me broke. And I apologize to you for it. Like always you forgive. I stare at your face. Soft childish face. Blonde hair messily swarmed about your head. Bare chest bearing so many self-inflicted scars. Tender arms holding their tattooed stains. Through lazy eyes I observe your frame. I apologize again. Something inside me broke. Again you forgive. The sunlight reaches my eyes. A blinding hue engulfs as you vanish from my vision. I call out your name again. But. But. You never come back. My eyes start to stain with tears. Clear liquid of remorse mixing and reviving the dried blood. I scream your name. But it didn’t sound like your name. Jumbled ear-splitting screeches and winded pleas of desperation. I apologize. You didn’t forgive.
I return to the room. There you were laying on the bed staring at the TV over the footboard. My presence interrupted you though. You jolt a bit. Stare at me wide-eyed. I chuckle. You look at me as if I wasn’t supposed to be here. You whisper under your breath what was I doing here. I laugh again. In my hand I held a bento. Your favorite bento. As I approached to hand you it, you roll off the bed immediately taking a defensive posture. Again you ask what I was doing here. Again I find that damn hilarious. I shove the bento onto the bed, half-hoping that you would forget your fear and just sit down and eat the damn thing.
You only back away more. At last the wall hindered any further movement; yet you still stayed frozen to it. I asked if you wanted to eat. You just stare at me. Those eyes. Bulging. Filled with terror. I found that fucking hilarious. Caught in the moment I accidentally reveal to you the surprise that I had been holding onto. A wooden-handled, red-headed axe. I watch as your frame freezes then convulses at sight of it hanging out my right hand. Two harsh exhales. Finally a bumbling scream. You dart onto the bed, trying for the still open door. I raise the axe and toss it at your fleeing frame. The metal caught you in the right arm, only going half-way through. I wish it had severed it off completely.
Cries of pain fill the room as your open throat continues to bellow forth. So annoying. I tell you to shut up. You only screamed louder. I kept muttering it. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. My hand grips the handle and forces it forward. A soft thud as your arm hits the floor. Your hand darts out to grasp the bleeding stump, and again you try to flee to the door. You lose balance though. Foot connecting awkwardly with the floor upon your trampoline leap from the bed. How dare you so rudely leave. After all the effort it took me to buy that bento for you. I saunter across the bed. Watching you with distant eyes as your frame squirms to regain footing. Handle above my head. You’re almost to your feet. I watch for a few more seconds. At last my arms rotate forward.
You cry out in a willowy voice as the axe connects with your back; shirt now stained crimson. You beg me to stop. I drop to the floor. Again I lift the handle. And again it comes crashing down. More blood spews across the bed. Across the wall. Across both my body and yours. You fall to the floor. Head turned. Eyes focused. Looking at me. Pupils cloudy with clear liquid. Face and neck stained with blood. I timidly watch as your head slides to the floor, face resting on the carpet drowning in your red fluid. You gaze at me, eyes now half closed. You stare at me. “Kenzi,” you utter. I walk over to your broken body. Kneel down before your face. Smiling. “I’ve always loved you Kyo.” You stare for a moment. Eyes conveying something I could not understand. Softly closing. Quietly asleep.
Again I apologize. And again you forgive.
----
A/N: Never again will I listen to Monokuro ni Natta Saigo no Hi by D'espairsRay at 1:00 in the morning.
Chapters: Drabble
Author: inuoloz [Oloz-san]
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Gore, Death, Dark
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Kenzi X Kyo
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Synopsis: An axe to symbolize obsession and blood to symbolize love.
Word Count: 1,133
Blood staining my face. Oh it was the greatest of pleasures. Axe in my hand and your limbs on the floor. The fun still was not over. Messily I wipe my hand across my face; freshly wet blood smearing my features. Moving over to your severed arm I grab the bleeding stub and stare at the limp hand. It was a pastel white, crystal clear compared to the rest of the blood splattered skin. A pink muscle edges out from my lips, coated with transparent saliva.
Greedily I lick the uncontaminated hand; spit coating the exterior. Soon the saliva turned to drool as the licks became less than enough. The axe drops to the floor and both my hands grip your arm. Each digit, starting with the thumb entered my oral cavern. Sucking on the thin fingers with ravaging hunger. Overwhelming crave. Suddenly the crave vanished. The pleasure sustained by sucking off each finger dissipated, died. I move my mouth away from the hand, hands still gripping the host-less limb. I twist the flesh, fingernails digging into the soft skin. More pressure applied, the arm makes a dull crunch. I drop it. A faint echo overtaking the room. On my knees I fall, tears streaming my snarl-contorted face. Hands now grip the bloodied carpet, soaked in crimson oozing up from the weight.
I slam my head against the floor; more splatters are added. Again I lift and slam it. Again. Again. Again. I call out your name. See? I love you. I cry your name again. See? I love you. Something in my stomach contorted. Some fire burned in my throat. Withheld bile rose up and splattered forth from my mouth, staining the floor with a new bodily fluid. I stare at the vomit. I laugh. Oh it was so funny. Hilarious how it all turned out. I find my axe, lift to my feet, and look at your severed, broken arm. I lift the handle over my head, nearly loosing balance from its weight. Down it comes. Severed arm severing again. The way the flesh so readily separated from each other. The way the blood so eagerly burst forth from the wound. The way it all mixed together. Flesh, blood, vomit. I toss the axe across the room. It made an awful noise. I turned to leave. Searching for the knob in the dim-lighted room was such a hassle. So bothersome. Twisting the metal piece much like your arm the door opened. I stare out into the hallway, no one. Leaving your apartment I silently close the door and whisper you good night. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in the morning.
Timid footsteps wake me as I muttered your forgotten name. Something inside me broke. And I apologize to you for it. Like always you forgive. I stare at your face. Soft childish face. Blonde hair messily swarmed about your head. Bare chest bearing so many self-inflicted scars. Tender arms holding their tattooed stains. Through lazy eyes I observe your frame. I apologize again. Something inside me broke. Again you forgive. The sunlight reaches my eyes. A blinding hue engulfs as you vanish from my vision. I call out your name again. But. But. You never come back. My eyes start to stain with tears. Clear liquid of remorse mixing and reviving the dried blood. I scream your name. But it didn’t sound like your name. Jumbled ear-splitting screeches and winded pleas of desperation. I apologize. You didn’t forgive.
I return to the room. There you were laying on the bed staring at the TV over the footboard. My presence interrupted you though. You jolt a bit. Stare at me wide-eyed. I chuckle. You look at me as if I wasn’t supposed to be here. You whisper under your breath what was I doing here. I laugh again. In my hand I held a bento. Your favorite bento. As I approached to hand you it, you roll off the bed immediately taking a defensive posture. Again you ask what I was doing here. Again I find that damn hilarious. I shove the bento onto the bed, half-hoping that you would forget your fear and just sit down and eat the damn thing.
You only back away more. At last the wall hindered any further movement; yet you still stayed frozen to it. I asked if you wanted to eat. You just stare at me. Those eyes. Bulging. Filled with terror. I found that fucking hilarious. Caught in the moment I accidentally reveal to you the surprise that I had been holding onto. A wooden-handled, red-headed axe. I watch as your frame freezes then convulses at sight of it hanging out my right hand. Two harsh exhales. Finally a bumbling scream. You dart onto the bed, trying for the still open door. I raise the axe and toss it at your fleeing frame. The metal caught you in the right arm, only going half-way through. I wish it had severed it off completely.
Cries of pain fill the room as your open throat continues to bellow forth. So annoying. I tell you to shut up. You only screamed louder. I kept muttering it. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. My hand grips the handle and forces it forward. A soft thud as your arm hits the floor. Your hand darts out to grasp the bleeding stump, and again you try to flee to the door. You lose balance though. Foot connecting awkwardly with the floor upon your trampoline leap from the bed. How dare you so rudely leave. After all the effort it took me to buy that bento for you. I saunter across the bed. Watching you with distant eyes as your frame squirms to regain footing. Handle above my head. You’re almost to your feet. I watch for a few more seconds. At last my arms rotate forward.
You cry out in a willowy voice as the axe connects with your back; shirt now stained crimson. You beg me to stop. I drop to the floor. Again I lift the handle. And again it comes crashing down. More blood spews across the bed. Across the wall. Across both my body and yours. You fall to the floor. Head turned. Eyes focused. Looking at me. Pupils cloudy with clear liquid. Face and neck stained with blood. I timidly watch as your head slides to the floor, face resting on the carpet drowning in your red fluid. You gaze at me, eyes now half closed. You stare at me. “Kenzi,” you utter. I walk over to your broken body. Kneel down before your face. Smiling. “I’ve always loved you Kyo.” You stare for a moment. Eyes conveying something I could not understand. Softly closing. Quietly asleep.
Again I apologize. And again you forgive.
----
A/N: Never again will I listen to Monokuro ni Natta Saigo no Hi by D'espairsRay at 1:00 in the morning.