InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Night Stalker ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Prologue
The paperboard box was covered with a muted blue paper in a tiny primrose pattern. The lid, a grayish white Currier and IVes winter scene, came into focus. The the papers and documents sticking out from within.
The fit had passed.
His head hurt. The pain, boring into his eye socket, leveled off.
He lay in the fetal position on the floor and clutched the letter.
Sweat drenched his clothes, stung his eyes. He heard the scratching, and almost screamed before he realized it was only the needle aimlessly tracking the final grooves of the records. His knee jerked.
He straightened, grabbed the mattress, and rose part way to the bed before falling back. He pulled himself along the floor to the table that held the cheap record player, rolled over and scooted upward to sit with his back wedged into the corner. Finally, his arm heavy and numb, he reached the stylus and scraped the needle across the record. The song began to play. Your are my sun-shine-click-my only sunshine-click...
He dropped the letter, looked down at his hands and arms, touched his face. No fresh bites or scratches. He ran his fingers through his wet hair. No areas of tenderness. Hes breathing eased.
He trembled when he picked up the letter. It was addressed to here "Not Yet," he whispered aloud. He let it fall and reached for the box. He caressed the soft padded lid with an angry hand.
The box was his now. He saw her, smelled her, heard her voice. He shuddered.
He pulled out the document and traced the embossed letterhead with his fingertips. The stiff parchment , veined in green, rustled crisply. Her name was their. And his. The driss bore into his eyes...Please dont-Click-take my sun-shine awaaay...
He snatched up the letter and reread it. He felt his muscles begin to knot. His knee twitched and jerked. He drew his legs up to his chest, dug his heels into the threadbare carpet, and pushed, forcing his body back into the corner. He grabbed his legs and arms, struggled for control. He breathed spasmodically. Dont go, he told himself. Dont go! He wadded the front of his shirt into a ball and bit down on it. The scream stayed in his throat.
Pop! Pop! The pain was gone. He had teetered, but had not gone over the dge. The scratching sounds had not come to turn his bowels into a roiling inferno. The acrid odor of burning hair and flesh had not come to fill his nostrils. The monsters had been cheated.
He smiled. In place of the fear and pain, he felt glorious rage. He had stayed in control, mastered it, bet it. That delicious rage grew, throbbing, intesifying with each beat of his heart. With feirce sanity, he began to formulate his revenge.
"they'll pay," he whispered. "They'll both pay."...
and i hung my head...and cried.

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