ENTRY- 'Thank You' Note
Entry for "Hero" themed writing contest.
“Why?! Your boss is dead! Leave me alone! I’m not your toy anymore!” He screamed at the intruders that stood around him in the elegant music room. The window to his right was smashed and the doorway was firmly blocked by two large men. Judging by tattoos and weapons, all of these men had been, or were, members of the yakuza. Chishio clenched his fists at his side, not noticing as his nails pierced skin and blood started to drip to the pristine white floors.
“You killed the boss. And he said if that ever happened that we had to kill you. And we plan to boy.” One of the men sneered, flipping open a butterfly knife with deft ease. “Shouldn’t be too hard; you seem to have become a pansy. Guess you liked takin’ it up the ass, eh?” Chishio’s back stiffened and he hid his shiver at the memories that assaulted him with those words. He recognized many of these men; most of them had taken him, torn him, defiled him…and each of them had killed a little bit of his soul in the process.
“Get out of here!” Chishio howled his green eyes growing wild, brightening, shifting colours. But only the men there to kill him seemed to notice, and only one or two of them backed off at the sight. “Leave me alone you cock-sucking bastards!” His voice dropped to a vicious hiss and his eyes narrowed sharply.
“You seem to have forgotten your place…maybe we’ll leave you alive long enough so we can remind you of what you’re good at, you fuckin’ little slut.” Two men darted forward, but Chishio’s wings snapped open in a flurry of black feathers and he easily dodged and killed both the men, watching as blood gurgled up from the slices in their throats to stain the once spotless floor. His long fingers tightened around the stolen switchblade as he turned blazing amber eyes onto the remaining men.
“Get out of here. Get out of here before you ruin my life because, if you do, I’ll take yours.” His voice was low and obviously threatening. “I killed Ubelamio with his own knife when I was younger than this, all you half-pint assholes won’t be too difficult.” He spat the words, and the next thing he knew, they were upon him. He fought valiantly, slashing with the knife in his hand and striking out with his wings, shattering bones with the force of the blows. But when only three men were left, he found himself weapons and held firmly to the ground with knees in his back atop his wings and strong hands holding firmly onto his legs.
“How about you just lay there like a good little bitch while I fuck you.” The ringleader hissed, making Chishio redouble his efforts to escape. This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let this happen. He was clean. Millard was the only one allowed…he couldn’t break his promise…he couldn’t let this happen…he whimpered.
“Millard!” His sobbing scream reverberated around the large house and thankfully one of the glass panes in the door to the music room was broken, or else it wouldn’t have been heard. Moments later, Chishio found himself freed and scurried to his feet to see Millard before him, cream-coloured fists layered in blood, white clothes stained, and blue eyes wild with uncontrollable rage.
“Breaking into my house I can tolerate.” The young man started in an eerily calm voice. “But touching my Angel and threatening to violate him I cannot. I’ll kill you with my bare hands you sadistic pedophile rapists.” The words came out as a sharp hiss from between full, lush lips. Chishio’s eyes darted quickly and he cried out as he saw one of the men lunging, a knife in his hand.
“Millard! Look out!” The angel shoved Millard aside and leapt at the attacker, easily apprehending the knife and, in one deft stroke, watched the man collapse, gurgling, to the floor. He panted and shook as he threw the knife down, staring at his bloodstained hands. He felt almost like he had never killed before; it scared him.
Feeling that the other two men were out like lights, Millard knelt behind Chishio and put his arms around his angel, feeling the shaky, silent sobs that wracked the slight body.
“I never wanted to kill again…I thought it was all over Millard…”
“Shh…baby…it’s okay…” Millard stroked Chishio’s hair tenderly, kissing the teen’s temple. So busy were they with their private business, neither of them noticed that barely-conscious yakuza member drawing a gun from inside his jacket.
“Fuckers…I’ll kill you both…” Chishio smelled the gunpowder even before the bullet left the barrel and he about to roll them both to the side and out of the way when he felt arms tighten around him, preventing him from moving. Blood splattered against his cheek as he heard a sickly gasp pass Millard’s lips. His shivers increased ten-fold.
“Millard…” He carefully laid his lover down on the floor on his side, the blue eyes he loved so much watching him with that same kindly light they always held. “Millard…” He swallowed and then growled deep in his throat, amber eyes flashing to the two remaining men. In a matter of mere moments, both of them were dead; a broken neck each and the one man got five shots in the face before Chishio finally stumbled back over to his blood-soaked boyfriend.
“Chishio…” The voice was a gurgled croak, like it was being spoken from underwater, and it made Chishio bite his lip as he knelt at Millard’s head. “Chishio…” Millard pulled the rose from the lapel of his white trench coat; he had heard Chishio’s cry upon entering the house. “Take this, Chishio.” Chishio took the rose in shaking hands; blood dripped off the crimson petals and only one thorn was present upon the stem.
“Millard…why…?” A small, childish voice; most unlike Chishio really, the angel had never been given a chance to be a proper child. Millard smiled, gripping his love’s slender hand as strongly as he could.
“Because you have a life to live…a new life…I couldn’t let them take that…”
“But they did! …You’re my life now Millard…” Tears welled up in endless green eyes. “You took it away Millard…” A tender smile was his first reply.
“Chishio…there’s somebody else out there for you…give them that rose…and move on…”
“I’ll never be able to forget you, Millard…” A sad smile.
“Just don’t let me interfere…go on living baby…I’ll always love you…” A blood covered hand reached up to cup a warm, tear-soaked cheek and Chishio couldn’t help but lean down to kiss cooling lips, gripping the hand against his cheek. As he pulled back, Millard smiled softly, lovingly, before his eyelids fluttered and, with a heavy sigh, closed and stilled. Chishio collapsed over the body and sobbed.
As he kneels before the tombstone of his first love, Chishio bows his head and lays the dozen red roses against the stone, chanting softly in Japanese as tears fall down his cheeks. But he smiles, laying a picture down on top of the bouquet.
“Look, Millard. That’s my family. Clio, Taro, and Naomi. Beautiful, aren’t they?” A sad smile. “Taro and Clio are the only ones who know about you. Taro found our photo album. He told me to show you this picture. He signed it.” A tender smile spread across the redhead’s features at the thought, looking at the picture of his wife, son, and daughter.
“You gave me this Millard. Arigatou.” Chishio kissed the polished, clean stone, murmured a short prayer, and then rose to his feet, sweeping down the path and out of the graveyard. A gust of wind flipped the picture over atop the grave.
‘Thank you, Millard. For saving Chichi…for giving him to us…I’ll always think that you’re a hero…thank you.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Word Count: 1315
Pages: 3
Written On: Morning of December 30, 2006
“Why?! Your boss is dead! Leave me alone! I’m not your toy anymore!” He screamed at the intruders that stood around him in the elegant music room. The window to his right was smashed and the doorway was firmly blocked by two large men. Judging by tattoos and weapons, all of these men had been, or were, members of the yakuza. Chishio clenched his fists at his side, not noticing as his nails pierced skin and blood started to drip to the pristine white floors.
“You killed the boss. And he said if that ever happened that we had to kill you. And we plan to boy.” One of the men sneered, flipping open a butterfly knife with deft ease. “Shouldn’t be too hard; you seem to have become a pansy. Guess you liked takin’ it up the ass, eh?” Chishio’s back stiffened and he hid his shiver at the memories that assaulted him with those words. He recognized many of these men; most of them had taken him, torn him, defiled him…and each of them had killed a little bit of his soul in the process.
“Get out of here!” Chishio howled his green eyes growing wild, brightening, shifting colours. But only the men there to kill him seemed to notice, and only one or two of them backed off at the sight. “Leave me alone you cock-sucking bastards!” His voice dropped to a vicious hiss and his eyes narrowed sharply.
“You seem to have forgotten your place…maybe we’ll leave you alive long enough so we can remind you of what you’re good at, you fuckin’ little slut.” Two men darted forward, but Chishio’s wings snapped open in a flurry of black feathers and he easily dodged and killed both the men, watching as blood gurgled up from the slices in their throats to stain the once spotless floor. His long fingers tightened around the stolen switchblade as he turned blazing amber eyes onto the remaining men.
“Get out of here. Get out of here before you ruin my life because, if you do, I’ll take yours.” His voice was low and obviously threatening. “I killed Ubelamio with his own knife when I was younger than this, all you half-pint assholes won’t be too difficult.” He spat the words, and the next thing he knew, they were upon him. He fought valiantly, slashing with the knife in his hand and striking out with his wings, shattering bones with the force of the blows. But when only three men were left, he found himself weapons and held firmly to the ground with knees in his back atop his wings and strong hands holding firmly onto his legs.
“How about you just lay there like a good little bitch while I fuck you.” The ringleader hissed, making Chishio redouble his efforts to escape. This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let this happen. He was clean. Millard was the only one allowed…he couldn’t break his promise…he couldn’t let this happen…he whimpered.
“Millard!” His sobbing scream reverberated around the large house and thankfully one of the glass panes in the door to the music room was broken, or else it wouldn’t have been heard. Moments later, Chishio found himself freed and scurried to his feet to see Millard before him, cream-coloured fists layered in blood, white clothes stained, and blue eyes wild with uncontrollable rage.
“Breaking into my house I can tolerate.” The young man started in an eerily calm voice. “But touching my Angel and threatening to violate him I cannot. I’ll kill you with my bare hands you sadistic pedophile rapists.” The words came out as a sharp hiss from between full, lush lips. Chishio’s eyes darted quickly and he cried out as he saw one of the men lunging, a knife in his hand.
“Millard! Look out!” The angel shoved Millard aside and leapt at the attacker, easily apprehending the knife and, in one deft stroke, watched the man collapse, gurgling, to the floor. He panted and shook as he threw the knife down, staring at his bloodstained hands. He felt almost like he had never killed before; it scared him.
Feeling that the other two men were out like lights, Millard knelt behind Chishio and put his arms around his angel, feeling the shaky, silent sobs that wracked the slight body.
“I never wanted to kill again…I thought it was all over Millard…”
“Shh…baby…it’s okay…” Millard stroked Chishio’s hair tenderly, kissing the teen’s temple. So busy were they with their private business, neither of them noticed that barely-conscious yakuza member drawing a gun from inside his jacket.
“Fuckers…I’ll kill you both…” Chishio smelled the gunpowder even before the bullet left the barrel and he about to roll them both to the side and out of the way when he felt arms tighten around him, preventing him from moving. Blood splattered against his cheek as he heard a sickly gasp pass Millard’s lips. His shivers increased ten-fold.
“Millard…” He carefully laid his lover down on the floor on his side, the blue eyes he loved so much watching him with that same kindly light they always held. “Millard…” He swallowed and then growled deep in his throat, amber eyes flashing to the two remaining men. In a matter of mere moments, both of them were dead; a broken neck each and the one man got five shots in the face before Chishio finally stumbled back over to his blood-soaked boyfriend.
“Chishio…” The voice was a gurgled croak, like it was being spoken from underwater, and it made Chishio bite his lip as he knelt at Millard’s head. “Chishio…” Millard pulled the rose from the lapel of his white trench coat; he had heard Chishio’s cry upon entering the house. “Take this, Chishio.” Chishio took the rose in shaking hands; blood dripped off the crimson petals and only one thorn was present upon the stem.
“Millard…why…?” A small, childish voice; most unlike Chishio really, the angel had never been given a chance to be a proper child. Millard smiled, gripping his love’s slender hand as strongly as he could.
“Because you have a life to live…a new life…I couldn’t let them take that…”
“But they did! …You’re my life now Millard…” Tears welled up in endless green eyes. “You took it away Millard…” A tender smile was his first reply.
“Chishio…there’s somebody else out there for you…give them that rose…and move on…”
“I’ll never be able to forget you, Millard…” A sad smile.
“Just don’t let me interfere…go on living baby…I’ll always love you…” A blood covered hand reached up to cup a warm, tear-soaked cheek and Chishio couldn’t help but lean down to kiss cooling lips, gripping the hand against his cheek. As he pulled back, Millard smiled softly, lovingly, before his eyelids fluttered and, with a heavy sigh, closed and stilled. Chishio collapsed over the body and sobbed.
As he kneels before the tombstone of his first love, Chishio bows his head and lays the dozen red roses against the stone, chanting softly in Japanese as tears fall down his cheeks. But he smiles, laying a picture down on top of the bouquet.
“Look, Millard. That’s my family. Clio, Taro, and Naomi. Beautiful, aren’t they?” A sad smile. “Taro and Clio are the only ones who know about you. Taro found our photo album. He told me to show you this picture. He signed it.” A tender smile spread across the redhead’s features at the thought, looking at the picture of his wife, son, and daughter.
“You gave me this Millard. Arigatou.” Chishio kissed the polished, clean stone, murmured a short prayer, and then rose to his feet, sweeping down the path and out of the graveyard. A gust of wind flipped the picture over atop the grave.
‘Thank you, Millard. For saving Chichi…for giving him to us…I’ll always think that you’re a hero…thank you.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Word Count: 1315
Pages: 3
Written On: Morning of December 30, 2006