Kaoru Miyazaki
03-26-2013, 03:24 AM
[OOC: This is Rem Saverem's second history thread. Kind of short. All chapters thus far have been graded.]
Chapter 1: All Roses Are Black
To say that the young Decima Espada was paranoid would have been an understatement.
While he slumbered, warm and comfortable in his bed, his three Fraccion stood guard at the entrances of his room. Laine was positioned outside of his door in the hallway. Dirge was positioned on the inside of the door, in case someone got past Laine. Lastly, Laam was standing beside the window near Rem's bed, ensuring that no one would come in that way either.
But Rem probably didn't realize that his third Fraccion often spent the nights peeking in on his dreams and spying. Of this he was blissfully unaware. Had he been aware, he would surely have made it so that Laam could never spill his secrets to anyone.
Rem was laying sprawled out in his bed, his pillow and sheets in a mess around him, his own sleeping garments in a state of disarray on his body. He was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling in accordance. It appeared he was sleeping quite soundly.
But a dream was playing behind his closed eyes.
It was a dream that he had had many times before so he knew it almost intimately. He hated it, he could never understand what it was trying to tell him. Still it continued to repeat itself over and over.
Rem was eight years old again, even smaller than he was now, and perhaps far more frail and fragile looking. His eyes were bigger then too. Light shone out from their emerald depths, lending a timid appearance to his face. He was sitting on the cold tile floor of a patient boarding room at the insane asylum, looking up at his roommate.
Said roommate was a much older boy, with black hair and pale blue eyes. His skin was tanned, but he had small scars all over his arms and face. The scars looked as if they had been made from the boy's fingernails constantly picking at his skin. He was staring wide-eyed back at Rem, trembling softly.
Rem was puzzled. “What is it?” he asked, his voice soft and light.
“You... you're a demon... you tried to kill me... tried to kiss me... what the hell is wrong with you?” the other boy said, pointing an accusing finger at the child on the floor.
“I did not!” Rem protested, now wearing a hurt expression.
“You did, you did,” the blue-eyed boy insisted, his trembling intensifying. “I woke up and you were kissing me... and when you saw I was awake, you tried to choke me. Then you used one of your arms to grab the other one and stop yourself... You fell onto the floor, and you've been sitting there like that since then...”
“But I don't remember... doing any of that,” Rem said, shaking his head softly, the longer locks of his dark hair brushing his shoulders gently.
“Just look at your arm... You're bleeding from where you dug your nails in to help tear your hand off my throat.”
“But...” Rem trailed off just as he began. He had suddenly become aware of a sharp stinging pain in his arm.
Ever so slowly, he raised his arm and found that there were four very deep gashes running horizontally across the flesh of his forearm. His eyes widened. His pulse sped and jumped up into his throat. His breathing started to come in rapid panting.
“But I... I don't remember doing that...” he said, a soft whimper of fear escaping him.
“It was like you were trying to fight yourself not to do it,” Blue-Eyes injected. “You must really need some help, kid.”
The real Rem, the current Rem, was screaming at his younger counterpart.
“He's lying! He has to be lying. It could have been him who attacked you and gave you those scratches when you started to struggle. He's the one who really needs the help, damn it!”
But the eight year old couldn't hear a word he said, and he growled softly in agitation.
“Fuck, I don't understand this. Was I myself or not...? If not, then what the hell was going on?”
“-ster! Master!” A concerned voice was calling to him. “Master, wake up! You're having a bad dream!”
Rem's emerald-green eyes snapped open as he felt someone shaking his shoulder. A face was hovering just above his own, and it took him a moment to recognize the differently colored eyes of Laam. There was concern for him in those eyes, and he didn't like it.
He slammed the palm of one hand into Laam's face and shoved him away all in one swift movement of his arm. “Get off, whore.”
The blond-haired Fraccion stumbled backward a few steps, holding his face in his hand. “Wh-what? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something!?” he barked, scowling at the child.
“I did warn you that it was a bad idea to wake him up before he wakes up on his own,” this from Dirge, who was still obediently standing guard by the door.
Rem sighed, letting his arm fall back to the bed, closing his eyes as he yawned softly. “Dirge, what time is it?” he asked.
“It's coming up on noon, my Lord.”
“I see...”
“Hey, don't ignore me like I'm not here,” Laam cut in, stomping his foot as his anger escalated. “That earlier comment was uncalled for. I was only seeing if you were okay.”
“Stop your whining,” Rem snapped, sitting upright in his bed to stare down his Fraccion with a heated emerald glare. “Don't even try to play innocent with me. Do you think I haven't noticed? Too many times you've come in with your hair and uniform a mess, a blissful look on your face, and the scent of another person on your skin. Most of the time, it's always a different scent.”
Laam's expression morphed before his eyes. The anger faded from those sea-blue and grass-green eyes, and a smile curled his lips. But it wasn't a pleasant smile. It was the kind of smile a serpent would give a mouse right before it crushed and devoured the pitiful creature.
“Then why do you bother keeping me around?” he asked, voice calm.
“You have your uses,” Rem answered, content to leave it at that. “Now, bring me a uniform from the closet.”
“Hai hai,” Laam said, still smiling as he moved to do so.
'A smiling idiot... He has his uses, but they're few and far between. A guard for the window and a spy for other people's dreams. If it wasn't for that, I'd have done away with him long ago.'
Rem shifted around, pushing off the sheets and blanket as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He raised his hands, starting to unbutton his night shirt so that he could change when Laam brought him his uniform for the day. If he was uncomfortable undressing in front of his Fraccion, it didn't show. In his mind, and in their mind, they all knew that if they tried anything, he would doubtlessly murder them for even the smallest attempt at what little of his virtue there remained.
“Here you go, Master,” Laam said, placing the clean uniform on the bed beside him.
“Thanks,” Rem said, reaching for the clothes and pulling them on quickly. As he was straightening them on his body, he caught sight of Laam staring at him out of the corner of his eye. The stare was intense, far too intense for his liking and for his paranoia to ignore.
“What?” he inquired, making a conscious effort not to snap and to keep his voice as calm as possible. It came out low, but steady, and he was glad for that.
“It's nothing,” Laam said, smiling as he walked away to take up his position near the window.
'As if I'm really supposed to believe that,' Rem thought silently to himself, his eyes following Laam's back while he moved. 'Seems like... I'll need to be careful around him. I am no one's victim.'
Chapter 1 End
Chapter 1: All Roses Are Black
To say that the young Decima Espada was paranoid would have been an understatement.
While he slumbered, warm and comfortable in his bed, his three Fraccion stood guard at the entrances of his room. Laine was positioned outside of his door in the hallway. Dirge was positioned on the inside of the door, in case someone got past Laine. Lastly, Laam was standing beside the window near Rem's bed, ensuring that no one would come in that way either.
But Rem probably didn't realize that his third Fraccion often spent the nights peeking in on his dreams and spying. Of this he was blissfully unaware. Had he been aware, he would surely have made it so that Laam could never spill his secrets to anyone.
Rem was laying sprawled out in his bed, his pillow and sheets in a mess around him, his own sleeping garments in a state of disarray on his body. He was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling in accordance. It appeared he was sleeping quite soundly.
But a dream was playing behind his closed eyes.
It was a dream that he had had many times before so he knew it almost intimately. He hated it, he could never understand what it was trying to tell him. Still it continued to repeat itself over and over.
Rem was eight years old again, even smaller than he was now, and perhaps far more frail and fragile looking. His eyes were bigger then too. Light shone out from their emerald depths, lending a timid appearance to his face. He was sitting on the cold tile floor of a patient boarding room at the insane asylum, looking up at his roommate.
Said roommate was a much older boy, with black hair and pale blue eyes. His skin was tanned, but he had small scars all over his arms and face. The scars looked as if they had been made from the boy's fingernails constantly picking at his skin. He was staring wide-eyed back at Rem, trembling softly.
Rem was puzzled. “What is it?” he asked, his voice soft and light.
“You... you're a demon... you tried to kill me... tried to kiss me... what the hell is wrong with you?” the other boy said, pointing an accusing finger at the child on the floor.
“I did not!” Rem protested, now wearing a hurt expression.
“You did, you did,” the blue-eyed boy insisted, his trembling intensifying. “I woke up and you were kissing me... and when you saw I was awake, you tried to choke me. Then you used one of your arms to grab the other one and stop yourself... You fell onto the floor, and you've been sitting there like that since then...”
“But I don't remember... doing any of that,” Rem said, shaking his head softly, the longer locks of his dark hair brushing his shoulders gently.
“Just look at your arm... You're bleeding from where you dug your nails in to help tear your hand off my throat.”
“But...” Rem trailed off just as he began. He had suddenly become aware of a sharp stinging pain in his arm.
Ever so slowly, he raised his arm and found that there were four very deep gashes running horizontally across the flesh of his forearm. His eyes widened. His pulse sped and jumped up into his throat. His breathing started to come in rapid panting.
“But I... I don't remember doing that...” he said, a soft whimper of fear escaping him.
“It was like you were trying to fight yourself not to do it,” Blue-Eyes injected. “You must really need some help, kid.”
The real Rem, the current Rem, was screaming at his younger counterpart.
“He's lying! He has to be lying. It could have been him who attacked you and gave you those scratches when you started to struggle. He's the one who really needs the help, damn it!”
But the eight year old couldn't hear a word he said, and he growled softly in agitation.
“Fuck, I don't understand this. Was I myself or not...? If not, then what the hell was going on?”
“-ster! Master!” A concerned voice was calling to him. “Master, wake up! You're having a bad dream!”
Rem's emerald-green eyes snapped open as he felt someone shaking his shoulder. A face was hovering just above his own, and it took him a moment to recognize the differently colored eyes of Laam. There was concern for him in those eyes, and he didn't like it.
He slammed the palm of one hand into Laam's face and shoved him away all in one swift movement of his arm. “Get off, whore.”
The blond-haired Fraccion stumbled backward a few steps, holding his face in his hand. “Wh-what? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something!?” he barked, scowling at the child.
“I did warn you that it was a bad idea to wake him up before he wakes up on his own,” this from Dirge, who was still obediently standing guard by the door.
Rem sighed, letting his arm fall back to the bed, closing his eyes as he yawned softly. “Dirge, what time is it?” he asked.
“It's coming up on noon, my Lord.”
“I see...”
“Hey, don't ignore me like I'm not here,” Laam cut in, stomping his foot as his anger escalated. “That earlier comment was uncalled for. I was only seeing if you were okay.”
“Stop your whining,” Rem snapped, sitting upright in his bed to stare down his Fraccion with a heated emerald glare. “Don't even try to play innocent with me. Do you think I haven't noticed? Too many times you've come in with your hair and uniform a mess, a blissful look on your face, and the scent of another person on your skin. Most of the time, it's always a different scent.”
Laam's expression morphed before his eyes. The anger faded from those sea-blue and grass-green eyes, and a smile curled his lips. But it wasn't a pleasant smile. It was the kind of smile a serpent would give a mouse right before it crushed and devoured the pitiful creature.
“Then why do you bother keeping me around?” he asked, voice calm.
“You have your uses,” Rem answered, content to leave it at that. “Now, bring me a uniform from the closet.”
“Hai hai,” Laam said, still smiling as he moved to do so.
'A smiling idiot... He has his uses, but they're few and far between. A guard for the window and a spy for other people's dreams. If it wasn't for that, I'd have done away with him long ago.'
Rem shifted around, pushing off the sheets and blanket as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He raised his hands, starting to unbutton his night shirt so that he could change when Laam brought him his uniform for the day. If he was uncomfortable undressing in front of his Fraccion, it didn't show. In his mind, and in their mind, they all knew that if they tried anything, he would doubtlessly murder them for even the smallest attempt at what little of his virtue there remained.
“Here you go, Master,” Laam said, placing the clean uniform on the bed beside him.
“Thanks,” Rem said, reaching for the clothes and pulling them on quickly. As he was straightening them on his body, he caught sight of Laam staring at him out of the corner of his eye. The stare was intense, far too intense for his liking and for his paranoia to ignore.
“What?” he inquired, making a conscious effort not to snap and to keep his voice as calm as possible. It came out low, but steady, and he was glad for that.
“It's nothing,” Laam said, smiling as he walked away to take up his position near the window.
'As if I'm really supposed to believe that,' Rem thought silently to himself, his eyes following Laam's back while he moved. 'Seems like... I'll need to be careful around him. I am no one's victim.'
Chapter 1 End