Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Blood Red Moon ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Blood Red Moon

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing…although I wouldn't mind it you know! He he

 

(A/N)`Thoughts'

“Speech”

 

CHAPTER 1

 

His sad past that followed him still tortured his everyday of existence. He walks amongst the mortals head hung low. His thoughts not leaving what he had just done. He had done it again… he had killed another poor innocent victim. Not by his own will, but by the instinct that coursed through his veins. He had hated being in the human world when he knew he did not belong.

 

He walked down the cold New York streets arms wrapped around his small frame that hid his true inhuman strength and agility. His shoulders soar from the now retracted wings that pained him so. He hated those foul wings that hindered him so. He hated absolutely everything about himself all except his long chestnut braid bound by a black ribbon was intertwined with the his braid. That ribbon meant to him almost as much as the hair that it bound. His mother had tied the black ribbon around his neck as a baby to hide the markings of his demon clan.

 

His hair was the only thing close to comfort he had ever had. He had remembered when he was not even a week old he had a head full of hair and even in his mothers weakened condition she would always play with it, and run her fingers through it. It was his everything; the only thing about himself that he would defend with his life. That pitiful life he hated so much, but couldn't bare to end it thinking it would hurt the woman that birthed him some how. He had lost track of time in his own self loathing thoughts as his feet set on auto pilot had found the little chunk of concrete he called home.

 

He entered the little house greeted only by a dull silence. It was so lonely, his life. He just wanted a reason to have to live and not just to exist. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't think of anything other than his mother. He slid his jacket off of his pained shoulders and walked the walk of a man on death row to his small bathroom on the left side of the hall.

 

It was painted a dark crimson red color. That color reminded him of that night and he reached out frantically to the cabinet and opened it. He sighed as he touched the cool metal of the blade. His only escape from the pain of his life. He slowly stripped himself of is black skintight long sleeved shirt and gazed at his tattered arms and chest in the mirror with sadness clearly present in his deep violet eyes taking on a gray tint from all the blood and pain he had seen over the years. He raised the blade to is arm and bit his lip with razor sharp teeth waiting for the comforting pain he was so used to, for the blade to dance majestically over his skin. The only one who saw him for the weakling he was.

He pressed the blade hard against his skin and dragged it slowly and steadily across his tattered arm. He gasped as it dug passionately into his skin. He watched as the blood flowed from the large gash he had just produced in his arm and sighed with relief and slid down the wall he hadn't realized he was leaning against and closed his eyes. He repeated over and over what he had just done before sleep overtook his tired, aching body and he slipped in to a blood loss induced sleep. As the razor fell from his grasp his maimed arm fell to the bathroom floor and continued to bleed.

 

 

He awoke suddenly as if he had been electrocuted. Memories of the night before flooded his mind like a flash and he curled up into a tight ball and did all that he could do. He cried. He sobbed into his knees, after sometime his body slowly stopped shaking. Unsteadily he tried to brace himself on the crimson wall he had been using as a pillow not even a half an hour earlier. He felt extremely dizzy and looked down at his blood soaked arm and nearly gagged at the sight of the crusted brownish goo encasing his arm. He stripped away the rest of his clothes and slowly and shakily got into the shower using the shower wall for support as he tried to rinse away the filth of the night before.

 

He relished the scorching hot water running down his aching back and the stinging sensation he felt in his arm. He stayed in the shower for a good forty-five minutes before finally emerging. Throwing a towel loosely around his small, thin waist and opened the bathroom door letting the built up steam from the small room escape and flow through out the house. He walked to his dark nearly empty room save for a bed and a night stand with a lamp on it. He flicked on the light with one if his long clawed fingers, flooding the room with the soft glow of the lap on the nightstand. Discarding the now unneeded towel on the ground somewhere amongst the massive piles of clothes he slowly made his way to the closet to find something fitting to go see his friend in. Something black of course, with a slight hint of color.

 

He threw on a pair of Prussian blue boxers, a black long sleeved shirt with the words `HA HA HA…. Fuck you!' printed on the front, (He knew how it would drive his dear friend up the wall) and a pair of his normal black bondage pants with the orange stitching. (1) As he walked out of his room to find his boots the phone rang and broke the deathly loud silence about the house. He ran for the phone knowing who it was and why they were calling.

 

“Hello?” He answered in an overly cheerful tone that was completely faked. Knowing his friend would know but not caring either way.

 

“Duo? Hey! It's Quatre! How are you? Are you still all in one piece?” Quatre asked frantically as he always did he knew of his friends self loathing and destructive behavior and he was always worried to death about it. He called like this every morning to check up on him and make sure he was okay. Quatre and his boyfriend of five years, Trowa were the only friends Duo had. The boy knew Quatre meant well and all but he always felt the need to not worry Quatre.

 

“Yes Quat I'm fine just woke up” 'from a blood loss induced sleep but still just woke up none the less' He thought to himself while still jabbering on to his friend. “You've got great timing as usual!” he said now holding the phone with his shoulder so he could put o his knee-high boots. He slowly laced them up while listening to Quatre mother him like always.

 

“Duo. I can tell when there is something wrong you know that! Your giving me that fake cheerful stuff again! You know I've known you longer than either of us can even remember.” Quatre was right, they were born on the same day and in the same hospital and they have known each other since. Duo's entire life; however pitiful it was; he had always had Quatre to turn to, but as they got older Duo insisted on secluding himself from his friend as to not hurt him with his unfortunate inherited blood lust.

 

Duo was a demon, fangs, claws, wings, the works. He hated the fact that to survive he had to feed upon living, breathing, innocent humans. His mother was banished to the human world for mating with a male that was not her betrothed. Soon after giving birth to Duo she died from the bodily stress she underwent alone. With no father he was given to the Maxwell orphanage. That was where Quatre's parents adopted him as their own child. Quatre was the heir to the families fortune, and also an empath, that meant he can sense others emotions as his own. Being gay and a `mutant' was hard on Quatre growing up in the family. He was the only male out of thirty children so no matter what the families fortune still went to him even if his parents didn't approve of his life style choice or himself.

 

“Whatever could you be talking about Quatre dear?” Duo said in a mock tone sarcasm seeping from his voice knowing quite well that Quatre knew what was up.

 

“Duo don't make me come over there and strap you down and force you to tell me using rigorous torture!” Quatre had a stern tone in his voice that drastically changed when he giggled and started talking to his boyfriend not realizing Duo was still on the line.” Trowa you know I would only strap you down. Oh Trowa, stop!” that went on for several more minutes before Duo got fed up and sighed loud into the phone. “Oh Duo! Yeah! He he sorry… um ….why don't we meet at the diner in an hour and a half to talk about this.” It was more of a command than a question and Duo knew he wasn't going to weasel his way out of this one.

 

“Fine Quat, and you know how much I hate hearing you two when we are trying to have a conversation” he said with a chuckle. ”See you when your done you two!” He hung up the phone before Quatre could respond and walked over to the couch chuckling then realizing just how lonely he was. He sat down frown firmly planted on his face and turned on the television to wait the hour and a half till he could meet up with his friends.

 

 

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Well that was the first chapter hope you liked it I worked my butt off writing it…..I don't type stores much…..well read it and tell me what you think! If you like it hate it, or it needs some changes. Tell me everything you can! Hehe

 

(1) he he I have those pants! They are so comfy!