One Piece Fan Fiction ❯ The Pirate In The Doll ❯ Part Five ( Chapter 5 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Rated M for non-con, gore
Anime/Manga: One Piece Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.01.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 8.6K | Visits: 232 | Status: Completed
Rated M for non-con, gore
Anime/Manga: One Piece Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.01.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 8.6K | Visits: 232 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece
Warning: Horror, slash, AU
A/N: Whoops...many many years ago, when I was in high school, I should have been paying more attention to the History lessons rather than threatening boys with damaging their baby fertilizers and ignoring my crush(es). XD Cuz I fucked up. Thanks to Myyrhic for pointing out a couple of things! A brief history update: The Great Depression began in Oct. 1929 and pretty much lasted throughout the thirties’. WWII began for the US after the attack in Pearl Harbor in Dec. of 1941. WWII actually began in 1939 when Germany invaded Poland. So, uh...I fucked up, thinking that the US was at war in the thirties’, which is the time line I’m working. The US struggled to stay neutral to the entire thing, despite Roosevelt getting down with Britain’s Winston Churchill to work up the Atlantic Charter in Aug. 1941. But then again, I’ve read instances were gung-ho Americans popped overseas just to get in on the action. But no worries! I editz me stuff and just want to get shit in order cuz...it’s way embarrassing when I write what I think I knew and researched and then realize, like, two years later when I reread a fanfic and realized the mistakes. XD Booyah. I encourage everybody to point out any mistakes in my writing, or question something; I won’t bite or get pissy when you do. It helps me as a writer to correct those mistakes and prevent doing them in the future. PEACE!
A/N2: Rated for scenes of non-con, murder, gore, and, uh...suggestions of cannibalism. >.< Yeah. That bad. But at least it’ll explain some things! This chapter is broken in past and present–I couldn’t play around with pretty italics or symbols b/c who knows how the formatting will end up. So...yah. Warning to you all.
The Pirate In The Doll:
Part Five
Zoro peered through the front window of the display shop. His mind was on edge. He felt like such a coward for leaving, but at the same time, he convinced himself that it was for the best. Because he didn’t know how to deal with his enemy and he wasn’t about to run in half-cocked, thinking he’d win this battle on luck along. No, he needed some background and strategy–thinking in this manner allowed him some peace of mind concerning Sanji. It was nearly twenty-four hours since he’d left, debating with himself...and getting horribly lost in the process, which took more time figuring out how and why he’d somehow ended up at the state’s borderline. But he’d kept himself sane with denying that anything horrid had happened to the cook; that the blond was just at work and would come home and shit would start all over again because the cook would only come over and bitch him out and he would have to defend himself and Gin would get all jealous again–
Zoro needed more information to feel confident about his next move. Walking around the shop, he located the back door. Without hesitation, he began to kick. Every action was fueled with the need to get what he needed and get back to the building.
It wasn’t because he was going to ‘rescue’ Sanji or anything, he thought. This thing had involved him without an explanation, Zoro’s sleep was continously interrupted, and how was he supposed to get some sleep and thinking space to find a new job when he had some shitty ghost running around, thinking he had something going on with Sanji? Honestly.
The door folded in and Zoro wrangled his way into the shop. He wasn’t surprised to see that a great majority of the owner’s ‘curio’ was gone. There were many packed boxes stacked along the back room and corridor, and for a moment he stood there. Unsure of where to go or what to look for. Locating the owner’s back office, he found a bookshelf filled with leather bound books. He looked through one, finding that they were all handwritten accounts of almost everything that the owner had in possession. As he started looking for Gin’s name, he realized that he was going to need some help. So he threw the book down and hurried out of the shop, closing the door as best as he could behind him. Hoping that he didn’t get lost, Zoro took off to find his co-workers.
-
The little girl with her pale features, pretty black hair and lace trimmed dress stared up at him with an unwavering smile. Her bangs were mussed from the salty breeze that was carried off from the ocean, and her arms were chilled with goosebumps. Sanji stopped what he was doing to look down at her, tilting his head as she shyly held her doll up to her face. Her nanny was busy bitching over what she was going to do while everyone was at the party. The child had been sick for the past few days, her main cries for water. Sanji had given her some fruit flavored water upon hearing her cry for a drink, and now the little girl had decided he was a friend of hers.
The servants were busy preparing for the night’s party; a mingling and clash of the wealthy and their rivals. He had been cooking all day, annoyed at the other cooks and at the men and women that came in to swipe anything that caught their eye. Their employers were busy laughing and visiting in the garden down the hill. He’d just sent a boy down there with drinks.
Bizette had the deepest black eyes Sanji had seen on a child. They were wide and curious whenever she was sure no one was looking–but they turned shy and downcast whenever she was the center of attention. Her parents claimed her in name only, but it was the four nannies that were raising her. Kureha, the main nanny in charge and rumored to be a ‘witch’, was off performing some parlor tricks for the brave souls that dared to ask for her services. The woman Bizette had currently attached herself to was a red-haired thief that everyone knew stole regularly from her employers. But those that knew her sly stealing wouldn’t dare snitch–Nami was capable in that sense.
Nami finally stopped complaining about Bizette’s sickly mannerisms and tugged on her hair playfully to get her attention. “Let’s go, brat. We’ve got us a pretty dress to wear,” she said, Bizette finally tearing her eyes away from Sanji and looking at her.
“Nami, darling, ravishing as always. How about some fruit snacks before you go? Surely you wear yourself out being so beautiful all the time,” Sanji said smoothly, grinning wide and idiotic as he held out a bowl full of mixed fruits; all arranged prettily and garnished with mint leaves.
“Thank you, dear. But I’ve never had some of that rum-flavored rib-eye sponges atop of such pretty china, before,” Nami answered in a wistful sigh, pointing at one of the prepared meat dishes that were being dressed nearby. “I mean, not at all. It really looks so good...I wonder if I’ll ever get to...Madam and Mister are so stingy lately...”
“Oh, a little sliver will not be missed. Just a sliver!”
Sanji handed her a tea-cup sized plate of the meat, Nami’s eyes growing wide and grateful as she took it and hastily slipped it into Bizette’s toy bag that she had wrapped behind her bag. She then reached up and tugged on Sanji’s chin, pressing kisses on his cheek as he reddened and cringed with a show of extreme pleasure.
As they walked away, Bizette turned and stared over one shoulder, doll at her side as Sanji waved them off.
“Argh, that was just disgusting. One of the most sickening, most disgusting, and shameless displays of weak-assed pansy-footed moments that I’d ever seen...in the last hour.”
Sanji heaved a huge sigh of intense weariness, then turned to face one of the many security men that patrolled the grounds. At the sight of the lazy, green-haired man that loved to pester Sanji in great moments of stress, Sanji felt his face twist into a sneer. “Fuck off, asshat. She was weak with starvation. Emaciated, unable to continue doing her wonderfully kind and caring duties for Bizette.”
“Ch. As if her tits alone couldn’t provide her with enough sustenance for an entire month.”
Sanji shot him a sharp look, reddening. “You disgusting dog. How dare you speak of her–her–her–! How dare you speak in such foul ways!”
Zoro smirked, then turned, dumping one of the meat dishes into his mouth before tossing the small plate onto a counter. Sanji shuffled over with a kick that sent the other man flying into the wall, experienced cooks whirling around the scene with smooth dashes.
“Hands off, you green-haired ape! Like that spare tire of yours needs more nourishment!”
“‘Spare tire’?! This is muscle! Oh, but I’m sure you don’t know what that is...you damn ugly double legged stick.” Muttering under his breath, Zoro walked off and Sanji rushed over to make sure that there was enough meat to make up for that small plate before they could work on another.
There were more people than they were prepared for. By the time Sanji was finished with his cleaning duties in the kitchen, it was well after two a.m. Exhausted and worn, the blond had left the kitchen with a few others and made his way to his quarters located within the main servants’ beach house. Everyone was asleep and settled as he kicked off his tight leather shoes, and he disrobed down to his linen shirt and drawers. He collapsed on the bed without moving anything else and exhaled heavily. Through the open window nearby, he could hear the crash of the ocean breaking on the shore, and the plentiful wails of Bizette screaming for water. Her cousin, the daughter of his employer’s wife’s sister, had a colicky baby that was also joining in on the wails. Somewhere within the servants’ beach house, Sanji could hear old man Francois coughing up his usual lung decay, his wife sleepily comforting him in the process.
He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply and thankful that he wasn’t breathing in the stuffed and overwhelming scent of the kitchen. He woke himself up with a snort, eyes blearily lifting, feeling the telltale chill of morning. But something felt different. Something felt awry.
The exhaustion over yesterday overwhelmed his senses, and he relaxed once more, wanting a couple more hours of sleep when he felt the shift in weight upon his bed. He startled awake, sitting up to see the thin face of a man that he’d only seen hours earlier. Utterly bewildered as to why the man was on his bed as if he belonged there, Sanji gaped at him and wondered who the hell he was.
Nearly a half hour later, he remembered the man as being one of the guests for his employers. Sanji had thought that it was odd that a man such as this one was allowed within the vicinity with his grungy face and seemingly emaciated features, but he had his mind on other things. He remembered serving the man the full course that he’d served the others, but added in extras just because his appearance was so bad. He’d also thought that the man was recovering from a sickness; he’d thought nothing more of it at the time, but now, in this moment, he wished he did.
Because maybe he’d been better prepared or more alert. His mind was struggling to accept and deny them because none of what the man was telling him had to be sane. He pulled at his restraints, rope rubbing his skin raw, his fingers curled into tight fists. At the same time, he had to concentrate hard on not swallowing the uncomfortable ball of material that had been stuffed into his mouth, a gag tied into place to keep it there and to muffle any sounds he made.
“It’s early,” Gin had whispered to him, foul breath on his face and even fouler hands everywhere where Sanji didn’t want them. “It’s early. You make a sound now, it’ll be discovered that this place is crawling with Don Kreig’s crew. You know of Don Kreig, right? Everybody here in Haiti has known who the Terror of the Sea is...you should be so lucky that I had come back. Come back in time to see you.”
The way Gin spoke to him, it was as if they’d known each other personally for years. Sanji knew that this was his first time ever seeing the man–he’d remember someone like Gin if he’d met him.
“You thought I’d been lost at sea, hadn’t you?” Gin then growled, his voice low and menacing in the darkness. “You thought I’d perish and never come back. So you moved on.”
Sanji stared at him, wide-eyed and aghast, head spinning. Gin was over him, wearing clothes that stank of his body odor and the sea, that were uncomfortably soft against his skin as Gin shifted to cross his arms over his chest and lay atop of him that way. It was enough to make Sanji feel utterly violated, air constricted with the weight of Gin. Gin stared down at him for a few moments, then shifted an arm out from underneath his chin, reaching around his own body. When he straightened it out, Sanji was alarmed to see a knife in his hand, the blade shimmering when it caught the light of the moon and flame-brightened lanterns outside. Sanji’s heart rate increased with fear, and the weight of the cloth in his mouth threatened to choke him with the way he was breathing. Gin smiled slowly, full lips pulling back to reveal straight and even teeth. He twisted his wrist from side to side, allowing the blade to capture most of Sanji’s attention.
“My pet, you've disobeyed me once again , and disregarded my wishes. I am disappointed and angry with you,” Gin whispered, dark eyes flashing with malevolence.
Sanji felt himself tremble upon hearing those words, shaking his head slightly, wanting to forcefully protest that he was no one’s pet. Or that he had done anything to earn this twisted attention. He didn’t even know who the man was! He didn’t even know his name! He’d never seen him before yesterday! He pulled at his hands, but the ropes that had them tied to the metal of his headboard kept them in place. When Gin shifted up to his knees, his dark eyes trailing down the length of Sanji’s upper torso, the blond managed to bring up a leg and kick out.
Gin absorbed the blow to the face, growled low and caught the offending leg. Before Sanji could shift his other leg to do it again, Gin forced the first leg back so that his knee hit Sanji’s own chest, and pushed his heel up into the air. Then he drew the blade swiftly and deeply through the muscle and tendons just above the inside of his knee, severing the ability to lift and use the leg properly again.
Behind his gag, Sanji screamed. As he moved in life-threatening struggle, kicking wildly with his other leg while the other one lay useless and spewing blood, Gin licked his lips, caught the other leg and twisted his body around it to effectively pin it under one arm. In a fluid motion, he drew the blade over the same tendons and muscle of his other leg. In one utterly painful movement, Sanji lost the ability to use that leg as well. The pain and shock in having such injuries done to him so maliciously caused a shockwave to his thoughts. For a few moments, he blindly struggled against his restraints, twisting his body in an effort to throw Gin off and away from him.
Gin righted himself and growled, beady eyes wide with warning as he crawled over Sanji once more, a hand clamping down over Sanji’s nose and gagged mouth. “Shhh,” he warned, knife against his lips in warning. “You cry out to alert the others, and I assure you, your death won’t be pretty. There aren’t enough women here to satisfy those that hadn’t had one in months–you’ll compensate for them, for at least fifty other men. I wouldn’t even feel a thing in giving you up, you traitorous whore.”
Sanji couldn’t breathe around the fingers that kept his nostrils clamped shut. And it was so difficult to breathe effectively around the ball of material crammed in his mouth. Panic, terror and pain made it hard to avoid swallowing it, his mouth and throat utterly dry and irritated. His mind shuttered; he couldn’t, for the life of him, even remember his own name or status. His eyes were nearly blind with crazed fear, but somewhere it registered Gin’s threat. For a few moments, he struggled with himself. If he couldn’t fight off one man, how could he fight off fifty? He didn’t think that Gin was lying–any man that was willing to cut him, to hurt him in the way that Gin had couldn’t be trusted.
Seeing that he was going to get his way, Gin smiled once more.
-
The horror and pain had left him in shock. Heavy and blinding shock that kept Sanji still and quiet as Gin grunted and groaned above him. The smell of him was hideous, the feel of his body just as horrid, and feeling everything below his waist was just as torturous. His legs were hot with agony, tingling painfully with the loss of blood–it was similar to having a limb fall asleep and roughly coaxed back to life. The bed was wet and moist with his blood, and while Sanji registered that, he struggled not to register anything else.
Gin’s skin was heated and sweaty. His face was strained, tendons in his neck rigid as his full lips pulled back in an almost painful grimace. He pumped his straining length in and out of Sanji’s body, slowly and forceful, as if he had all the time in the world. Every grunt he made seemed to vibrate Sanji’s insides with intense disgust. Sanji never thought this would happen to him; never had he imagined the very thought of it every happening to men. He’d always (and rather ignorantly, he now realized) thought that this violent and horrid coupling between men was only a tall tale.
It was pain, shame and horror rolled into one fiery hot explosion that was just as similar as the splitting sensation he’d felt when Gin entered him. Numbly, he registered the uncomfortable feeling of Gin’s dick scraping against his insides, filling him with a fullness that made his face heat with even acknowledging the feeling. Gin’s hands were all over him–as if he were sharing this experience fondly with a willing lover.
In between his grunts and sighs, pumping his dick with full and powerful thrusts, Gin continued to talk nonsense to him. Through his numb and paralyzed haze, Sanji found strength to focus in on his grimacing face. He couldn’t feel his fingers or hands–but he felt minute flashes of raw burning whenever he stretched out or pulled on tired, strained muscles. His shoulders were cramping, his throat bared as he strained his head back–as if trying to keep that part of him from Gin’s reach. The material in his mouth continued to keep him aware that he was a swallow away from choking. The gag rubbed at the corners of his mouth–tight around his jaw.
Gin pushed up into his ass with one powerful thrust that made Sanji whimper–he was shamed to acknowledge the way Gin’s dick throbbed and thickened deep inside of him. He shifted, as if to try and draw himself away but the strong sting of pain in his legs drew a stilled reaction and another muffled whimper. Gin leaned forward, exhaling deeply over Sanji’s chest. Sanji could smell his own blood–the scent of sex. His stomach lurched.
He thought he heard another whimper, high-pitched and girlish, and felt his entire being freeze. But Gin’s hands distracted him as they curled around his limp dick. Sanji’s eyes shot open, and he lifted his hips in an effort to toss away the touch. Gin growled low, his fingers steely around one of the most sensitive parts of Sanji, and he made a high-pitched squeal that was alien to his own ears. Gin fell back on his heels, panting tightly before snatching Sanji’s hips and lifting them.
Sanji’s eyes widened at the new sensation, at the position. Bright stars and horror filled him as the position sent sparkles of heat deep into his belly. He moved to plant his heels on the bed to push off, but the loss of sensation there prevented that small movement. His legs wouldn’t obey–he cried out in frustration and horror, the sound muffled. At that same movement, the balled material slipped into his throat, catching the delicate flap of his epiglottis. Instantly he choked–his eyes bulged as he gagged and coughed violently, straining upward as his hands caught tight against the restraints. Gin sped up his pumps, growling low as Sanji struggled. Pressure made his face red, lungs tight–Sanji wanted to claw at his throat, registering death by asphyxiation as Gin finally climaxed, shooting his load deep into Sanji’s body. He growled aloud as Sanji continued to squirm–hacking and choking behind the gag.
The girlish whimper rose with distress, forcing Sanji to realize that they weren’t alone. Somewhere deep within his mind, he saw large black eyes underneath thick straight bangs. The few moments after Gin climaxed, he reached up to sweep his fingers beyond the gag and pulled the suffocating material out of Sanji’s mouth. The first gasp of air was loud and dry, Sanji’s eyes burning before he fell into choking coughs that Gin immediately muffled with the palm of his hand. It was torturous–his throat and mouth was dry, his lungs demanding needed air.
The panic started to subside once his mind and body realized that he could breathe clearly. Still, his heart was slamming hard and fast within his chest, the strong tingle of pain in his legs slowly pulling up to his hips. Gin focused on him, beady black eyes staring down into Sanji’s wide, dilated blue. Though his eyes watered and burned, Sanji stared straight up at him. Shock started to paralyze him once more as he realized the nauseating leak from his ass. Mortification and horror made his face screw up into a grimace. Gin finally removed his hand from his face. His softened dick slipped out from Sanji, an action that both men felt and heard within the intense silence.
Soon, Sanji began to hear the small shifts of movement from somewhere in his room. The hiccup and sniffle. The dry rasp of breath. His eyes widened with horror. Gin shifted back onto his heels to look over his shoulder. He then wrapped his fingers under the dripping ruin of Sanji’s legs, testing the depth of the swollen injuries and causing the blond to cry out as salt and sensation caused his legs to jerk in reflexive action.
“My new pet,” Gin whispered, drawing his hands up to lick his fingers. Sanji stared at him in silence, utterly disgusted at his actions and words. Gin sucked his own fingers, murmuring in approval. Then, gently, he pulled Sanji’s torn shirt together, covering most of his nakedness with the material. “You are useless, now. Pity. I could’ve taken you with me after Don Kreig finished up with this place. But I could not trust you after seeing you with him.”
Sanji’s head whirled. He was dazed all of a sudden–intense fog sweeping over him. Thoughts of a dead Nami, who must have suffered as he did by Gin’s hands. Of little Bizette, who was going to suffer the same fate. It all overwhelmed his sense of physical injury.
He heard himself whisper,” I’ve done nothing to deserve this. I’ve done nothing to anger you. I don’t even know who you are! I’ve never seen you before!”
Gin’s hands wrapped around his throat. For the third time within the space of an hour, Sanji found himself struggling to breathe. “You’ve taken company with the guard! You know the one! Twisting and writhing with shameless and wanton behavior in front of my own eyes! In plain view! You flaunt your devotion to him without thinking how much you’ve hurt me!”
Sanji shook his head wildly, wanting to cry out. Yanking at the ropes that rubbed his wrists raw. His mind was utterly confused–he had no idea what Gin was talking about. Whom he was talking about. Yet in this moment, Sanji had to think of every conversation, every interaction he’d had with everybody. The only true interaction was with Nami. But Gin wasn’t giving female appropriations–he was giving a male. And while Sanji thought of all the males he’d come into contact with, his mind simply couldn’t imagine the grave crime that was unforgivable in Gin’s deranged mind.
Despite being choked, he managed to protest, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re fucking insane!”
Gin released him, growling low as he shoved his face against Sanji’s.
“You’ll not speak to me in such a disrespectful manner again. I don’t like it when you refuse, or when you speak to me in such a shameless way. You’ll speak to me properly, and without any impudence. Is this in any way unclear?”
Sanji shook his head wildly, unable to comprehend how this man thought the way that he did. “You’re fucking insane! Fucking cracked! I’ll speak whatever it is I want! I don’t answer to you!”
“Such rebellion from somebody is who is utterly useless!”
“The sun burned out your fucking brain! You’re crazed!”
“I’ll teach you to disrespect me! I, your master and your savior! I was the one that plucked you from the ravages of your home! I sheltered and protected you, and here you rebel against me with your affections to another!”
“What are–?!”
Then they heard it. Heavy footfalls that entered the beach house. Gin stilled, then worked quickly. He was off the bed with a light jump, pulling up his trousers and underwear without cleaning himself off. Sanji lifted his head, struggling for air that didn’t want to cooperate with him, watching as Gin stalked to a corner of his room. Horror bloomed within him upon seeing Bizette, tied and gagged as he was. Gin pulled out the knife from earlier, eyes gleaming demonically as he jumped onto the bed, whispering harshly to the little girl. Bizette uttered no sound at all, Sanji watching in mute horror as Gin shoved her against his side.
The heavy footfalls neared, and Sanji knew without a doubt that they were coming directly to his room. Gin cut the ropes, releasing him without warning and forcing his arms down. Sanji’s mind screamed as Gin tore the gag off of him. In moments, he drew the blankets over all of them. Bizette was shoved hard against Sanji’s naked hip, and he squirmed as sensation made his arms burn with returning blood flow.
Gin curled over his body, no doubt smothering Bizette with his weight. His face was pressed against Sanji’s neck. It was an intimate position that one could clearly see from the door. It made his skin crawl. Softly, to Sanji’s ears only, he whispered, “One wrong word will have this child’s death.”
Sanji was paralyzed. The footfalls stopped outside his door. Terror, the need for safety and comfort all crashed within him–like the waves he could hear on the beach. The door opened. Sanji’s mind screamed continuously as the situation and traumas he’d endured minutes earlier made it impossible to think. But the thought of the small girl he could feel pressed obediently to his side had him racked with panic.
Zoro became visible from the doorway. Sanji knew the other could see the telltale shape of another form over him. His skin was clammy, damaged throat tight as he saw the guard’s angled face draw with confusion and surprise. Sanji’s eyes spoke of his terror. He tried to scream at Zoro with his mind, to tell him that he was in mortal danger. Couldn’t the man smell the blood that had been spilt? Couldn’t he see the stained blankets? Couldn’t he sense the horror and sickness of a deranged man?
Zoro’s eyes were narrowed and hard, lips drawing into a thin line. “You’re late, cook. They want you in the kitchen.”
Sanji couldn’t speak. But he felt his face screw up with a pleading, desperate expression. Too afraid to cry out or even answer, for the fear of Bizette’s life.
He felt Gin’s knife against the jutting angle of his hip–prodding him to answer. But he was too afraid to say the wrong thing. Zoro’s eyes dropped to the floor, and Sanji could tell Zoro could see Gin’s boots there. For a moment, Zoro’s face scrunched with surprise, but the look he sent Sanji was unreadable. Sanji felt his eyes burn with desperate emotion. He yearned with all his heart and soul for Zoro to realize that he was in danger.
Gin shifted with another painful jab with his knife. In his moment of distress, Sanji could actually feel the man’s rising ire the longer Zoro stood in the doorway.
Finally, Zoro shifted to move. Sanji couldn’t repress the small whine of anguish, Zoro shooting him another unreadable expression before walking away with loud stomps of his boots.
“Zoro–!” Sanji heard himself whisper, not fully realizing he’d done so out loud. He couldn’t lift his voice higher than that. “Come back–! Zoro!”
Gin tossed the blankets off as Zoro’s footfalls grew distant. The beach house’s door opened and shut as Gin tossed a half smothered Bizette aside. The little girl’s eyes were glazed, wet with tears. Sanji was struck with horror at that moment, the thought of being the cause of her murder flared within him.
Horribly, he could hear the slaves outside whispering frantically to each other. They knew what was going on–the strong men that worked the fields could no doubt hear what was happening through his open window, and he struggled to keep himself from crying out to them. He heard their depreciating whispers–he could feel their scorn and feelings of justice earned; a few were afraid that what was happening to him would happened to them. He heard one set of footfalls that fell right outside his window before hurrying off.
Everything crashed into blinding sensation as Gin slammed the knife deep into his chest. Bizette’s eyes widened, her gagged mouth opening, but no sound emerging. Before Sanji could even give a sound, Gin released his knife and reached out, twisted Sanji’s head sharply. A series of loud and unmistakable cracks shattered the tense silence as vertebra snapped under abnormal strength.
All sensation was lost. A choked sigh left him as he faced Bizette in an angle that was abnormal. She stared back in muted horror.
Sanji lost all control of his body–but he was still alive. Slowly strangling with the position his windpipe had been forced into. An intense feeling of defeat numbed his mind. Amazingly, appallingly, he could still hear Gin speak. A low whisper with an intense calm tone. Sanji couldn’t feel his body–he found it hard to focus. Bizette’s eyes were dark and sharp as she stared at him.
For a moment, Sanji faded away from the scene. His mind still registered noises, Gin’s strained whispers and grunts signaling actions Sanji couldn’t see or guess the nature of. There was another series of pops and cracks as his head was forcefully handled to face Gin. With this movement, air swept down his mangled throat; an almost useless action. It only allowed him to live. Gin’s demoniacal face was there in Sanji’s fading vision.
“You belong to me, now,” Gin whispered, eyes gleaming. His own shaking hands lifted–there was a lumpy, bloody clump in his thin fingers. Sanji’s mind refused to admit he was seeing his own heart. Because it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible to still be alive with his chest wide open, rib bones forced apart from the sternum, his heart sliced out from the protection and surrounding of muscle and bone.
Nothing but an overwhelming buzzing sound registered as Gin brought the warm, spurting organ to his mouth, teeth flashing before sinking deep. Without a sense of thought or emotion, Sanji’s blurring vision took in the sight of Gin biting and chewing two more times before gagging and spitting.
Gin’s face was demonic as Sanji heard him hiss, blood stained mouth eery in the moonlight. “Your heart belongs to me, now. Your strength and soul. You’ll come to me with every return you make to this world. I’ll always have what is mine.”
Then he stilled. He lifted his head and straightened, black eyes gleaming suddenly with a cautious brightness. To himself, he muttered, “It knows. It will kill me. I am only sorry for getting caught. But I don't regret taking him for mine. Always mine. He was my one kindness. It would have been an insult to my character to have not forcefully taken what treasure was presented to me.”
All apprehension of the world left Sanji at that moment. Sound, sight failed–until he found himself staring at Zoro’s horror-filled face. Smoke, flames and screams edged the permanently fading noises around him until there was nothing more but muted quiet. He watched in thoughtless silence as Zoro drew near him, anguished eyes taking in the gruesome mutilation. He himself was bloodied and soiled, but Sanji could tell, in a moment of clarity, that it wasn’t his blood. When Zoro realized that Sanji was still alive, the utter torment that filled every feature was enough to register within the darkness of silence and disassociation of Sanji’s dying mind. For a moment, Sanji watched Zoro’s hands lift and shake as they fell onto his face. He couldn’t feel it–couldn’t even remember what touch felt like. Zoro was speaking, but Sanji couldn’t hear or process what was being said. Zoro’s agonized expression were all Sanji saw before the brief flick of his thumbs drew over his eyelids, forcing them closed. With that, Sanji finally felt himself die.
-
In the present, Sanji remembered none of this. In the present, he stared at the utterly solid and still form of the demon that stood within the center of his apartment. Breathing in a slow, harsh manner as he stared at Sanji with burning malevolence. The air was heavy with tension–and Sanji wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. He simply stayed within sight of Gin, smoking up the last of his precious tobacco. He’d learned that Gin would leave him alone if he didn’t try to escape. Sanji had given up after his last attempt, jittery and still suffering with a headache that was amplified by his smoking. But it soothed his nerves.
He scanned his apartment, seeing the mess that had been made with their fights. Gin was strong and abnormally so. Sanji didn’t consider himself a physical weakling, but the other was faster, stronger and every hit he managed to land was utterly painful. Sanji wasn’t a seasoned fighter by any means, but he knew enough in how to defend himself. Maybe that was his weak point; maybe it contributed to his every loss to Gin’s rage.
Sanji was angry and frustrated; even a little hurt. Because Zoro wasn’t there. Because he felt abandoned and betrayed, and it burned at him. As he smoked and stared at the silent demon that never blinked or budged, Sanji cursed Zoro in his mind. Yes, they’d had an agreement based on mutual needs, but...but there were feelings. Sanji’s feelings. His hurt, confused and stubborn feelings that he felt were obvious to Zoro if Zoro weren’t so self-absorbed.
But then, if Zoro didn’t return those feelings, then there wasn’t a point to having his feelings. He glared at Gin, who was absolutely motionless. A breathing statue. He was at a loss of what to do. His head fell back against the wall with a heavy thump, smoke drifting into his eyes. He couldn’t understand a word Gin had said to him, ceasing to speak. Sanji had no idea why and what the man wanted from him.
He was feeling incredibly abandoned and helpless, and he hated to acknowledge both. He reached up to grip his hair with both hands, gritting on the cig but never taking his eyes from Gin. He tensed suddenly, hearing heavy footfalls in the hall stairway. For the countless time, he felt expectation fill him, trying not to admit his rising hope in that it was Zoro. But once more, he felt disappointment and irritation when the man tromped on down the hall.
He felt unbelievably frustrated with himself. To get this far in life without help or dependence on any individual, and then to find himself feeling needy of some idiotic moron that had to be taught everything they’d ever done in bed. An idiotic moron that was cowardly, selfish, incapable of feeling and a regrettable choice that was currently battling the decision to buy the pirate doll for top spot.
He slumped against the wall once again, exhaling around the dwindling cig between his lips.
Hurt slashed through his chest, even as his own pride battered it back from the forefront. He lifted his eyes to Gin, frustration for the unwavering stare and the lack of explanation making him focus away from his feelings for Zoro.
“Why won’t you say anything?!” he snarled, startled with his own voice. “Say something! Fuck you and fuck your stupid face!”
Gin said nothing. Staring in silence.
Sanji slumped against the wall, feeling exhausted. Yelling made his headache worse. He sighed and picked up another cigarette.
-
Zoro, with Luffy and Ussop in tow, burst through the broken doors of the shop. But he came to a stop upon the sight of a woman lowering a box of books to the floor upon their loud arrival. Her eyes, just visible underneath a sweep of blunt cut bangs, widened only a fraction before filling with calm.
“Sorry!” Luffy said, standing abreast of Zoro. His scarred face was bright with determination, his entire purpose filled with a mission that he was only too eager to be a participant of. Ussop stood behind them, bravado overexaggerating his own posture. “We need to do a few things. No one was here earlier, but we don’t have time to waste...”
She tilted her head thoughtfully, lips pulling into a knowing smile. “Ah. I suppose you were the ones that broke down the door earlier...I thought it was odd that nothing was stolen. My name is Robin. My father owns this store.”
“Look, it’s about a pirate doll that was bought a few days ago,” Zoro interrupted, making her frown. “Do you know anything about it?”
She opened her mouth to reply when Ussop cried, “It’s life or death! Lives are at stake! We’re going to stop it–well, Zoro and Luffy mainly will while I keep watch...er...just...in case they need me, but I doubt it because–!”
“Ussop! Shut up! Look, do you know about it or not, lady?” Zoro asked in irritation, stepping toward her. “Because if you don’t, you need to get your old man down here right away, or otherwise tell me where he is so I can go to him.”
When she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes. She sat atop of the box she’d been holding earlier, getting comfortable. “Yes. I know of the doll you speak of. Unfortunately, my father has selective hearing and had gone against my wishes in keeping it out of the shop. What would you like to know?”
“Look–ridiculous as it sounds, the guy inside of it is out. All this shit–it’s happening. The guy that bought it–he’s missing. And–and I know it’s because of that fucking doll that he bought here!”
Her eyes clouded, and her lips tightened. Her posture was rigid, but a finger trailed up to touch the length of her long, dark hair. “He’s found him, then. After all these years, Gin has been reunited with his lost possession.”
Blank stares made her smile slightly. Luffy squinted at her. “Huh? W-what do you mean...?”
“You know then, lady, of the doll?” Ussop asked shakily. But he still retained his tough posture. “How do we put ‘im back? Because Zoro and Sanji are just not the same anymore. And Zoro’s really bothered with Sanji being missing because–!”
“Shut up! NO! It’s not like that!” Zoro yelled in embarrassment. Ussop squeaked and wheeled back to put distance between himself and the red faced iron-worker.
Luffy gave him a puzzled look. “But Zoro....don’t you want to eat really good meals again? Isn’t that why you like Sanji so much?”
Zoro paused to think that one over, Ussop relaxing slightly. But he gave Zoro a puzzled look, wondering quietly over his reaction when it should have been obvious that the loss of Sanji feeding him was the more troubling deprivation.
The woman gave them a sad smile. “I’m sorry. Once Gin is out, he cannot return to his prison. Gin’s soul is demonic: he accepted a devil’s curse many years before that allowed him unearthly powers. His curse is a wretched one; to kill and ravage as many souls as he can to satisfy his demon benefactor. For every hundred souls he escorts to Hell, he is allowed one of his own. This man, Sanji, will always be his because of this.”
She was met with blank looks that slowly shifted into that of disbelieving and doubt. She knew that the story was a hard one to accept, but she was waiting for the moment when she was pressed for more information.
“...So...” Luffy started, then trailed off.
“...So...?” she prompted.
“...Uh...what...what happens now?”
“Well...it’s up to Gin–it’s such a shame,” Robin then said with a sigh. “For years I tried to keep the doll locked and out of sight, fearing that one day, Sanji would come to find him. When he becomes of age when he’d first passed, he would be drawn to Gin–that is because he belongs to Gin. Even if time had passed, and his soul had lost the memory of that commitment, he would return and live life after life, looking and reuniting with Gin.”
“But...” Zoro’s face was that of extreme distress.
She smiled sadly. “And you...I remember you...”
“...What?”
“All your feeling, all your regret that morning...you’ll spend your own eternity trying to fix what you felt you were responsible for.”
Zoro stared blankly at her.
Ussop was front and center in moments. “How do you know all this? How do we know you’re just selling us stories, freaking us out?”
Her eyes glinted. “I was there when the witch imprisoned Gin.”
Zoro’s voice was heavy, even as Luffy suddenly broke out in goosebumps. “What?! You were there?”
“You couldn’t have lived this long!” Ussop exclaimed. “Zoro said that Sanji said that he was told that the doll was from the early 1880's!”
“We have our ways,” she added, lifting an eyebrow.
“Bullshit!” Luffy cried, but he was grinning, already accepting her words. “Prove it.”
“I was...well...I was Bizette.” Her eyes shadowed heavily, and suddenly her face took on immense weight. Even as the name rang familiar with Zoro, he just couldn’t place where he’d heard it. It was familiar in such a way that his entire being jolted. “My first nanny, Kureha, was a practiced witch. I was raised more by her and the others than by my own mother. I was very young–too young to fully understand everything. But after what I had seen...something you will not remember, Zoro, because it was too horrible for you to ever want to remember...I had to do something. Kureha recognized a demonic presence within the bloody chaos on that plantation that early morning; while slaves were slaughtered, women were raped, material possessions pillaged, she went in search of it and found Gin. In the process, she found me. He’d already claimed this young man, and his crew mates had already decimated the plantation–and you as well, Zoro.
“But in the melee, when everything was in such great chaos, with the energy of everyone’s panic and the bloodlust of the pirates, Kureha was able to slay Gin’s overly strong physical body and was able to capture his soul within my doll, which Gin had allowed me to have to take with me. Eventually, years after I was able to accept and overcome what I had seen and experienced that morning, I was able to tell her what he’d done. She locked him away, knowing that that young man’s soul would eventually return to search for Gin. All Gin needed to manifest physically once more was to be within the presence of his possession.”
“But...that stupid necklace...I removed it,” Zoro confessed guiltily. “It was a stupid story! I didn’t believe any of it...only that it gave me the creeps. It was an accident, really.”
Robin smiled slightly. “The necklace was just a made-up tale my father gave to inspire intrigue. The key for Gin’s release was Sanji himself. I...am guessing that he has manifested.”
“...Yeah...I guess. But...that story reeks so much of bullshit. It sounds like a made-up tale!” Zoro growled in exasperation.
“Take it as you will,” she said with a gleam in her eyes. “I cannot convince you otherwise what you don’t want to hear, accept or remember.”
Luffy stared at Zoro. “So you already lived once?! Wow...that’s really cool, Zoro.”
“She’s lying! This is bullshit! She sells bullshit!”
“I–I believe her,” Ussop said shakily, but he resumed his tough-guy stance. “I can tell when people are lying. And she’s not lying.”
“This is stupid! You all concocted a stupid story and robbed Sanji blind, trying to convince us of witchcraft and bullshit! Your family probably murdered and chopped him up somewhere! He didn’t even have much to do that! He didn’t even–!”
“Take it as you will,” she said forcefully, and Zoro felt an overwhelming sensation of calm flow through him. When she judged that he was going to stay silent, Luffy’s eyebrows rising high on his forehead as he sensed abnormal tension from her, she continued on. “Just know that when Gin decides to slay your friend’s physical body, his soul will continue to come back to the physical plane to search for Gin once more–and have the cycle begin anew. Now that Gin has been released from his prison, he’ll wander the world to continue fulfilling his benefactor’s needs. But there is a way to stop this cycle. Do you want to hear it?”
Zoro stared at her in silence. He didn’t believe a word she’d just said. Uncertainty and disbelief warred within him, making it hard for him to focus on Ussop’s urgings and Luffy’s continued acceptance. But all it took was seeing Sanji in his mind’s eye, suffering some fate that Zoro didn’t even want to imagine. And all his warring feelings and denial made it difficult to continue thinking that what he was being told was bullshit.
With an intensely frustrated expression, but with a very stubborn stance, Zoro growled out, “...yes.”
Her eyes grew sad once more.
Warning: Horror, slash, AU
A/N: Whoops...many many years ago, when I was in high school, I should have been paying more attention to the History lessons rather than threatening boys with damaging their baby fertilizers and ignoring my crush(es). XD Cuz I fucked up. Thanks to Myyrhic for pointing out a couple of things! A brief history update: The Great Depression began in Oct. 1929 and pretty much lasted throughout the thirties’. WWII began for the US after the attack in Pearl Harbor in Dec. of 1941. WWII actually began in 1939 when Germany invaded Poland. So, uh...I fucked up, thinking that the US was at war in the thirties’, which is the time line I’m working. The US struggled to stay neutral to the entire thing, despite Roosevelt getting down with Britain’s Winston Churchill to work up the Atlantic Charter in Aug. 1941. But then again, I’ve read instances were gung-ho Americans popped overseas just to get in on the action. But no worries! I editz me stuff and just want to get shit in order cuz...it’s way embarrassing when I write what I think I knew and researched and then realize, like, two years later when I reread a fanfic and realized the mistakes. XD Booyah. I encourage everybody to point out any mistakes in my writing, or question something; I won’t bite or get pissy when you do. It helps me as a writer to correct those mistakes and prevent doing them in the future. PEACE!
A/N2: Rated for scenes of non-con, murder, gore, and, uh...suggestions of cannibalism. >.< Yeah. That bad. But at least it’ll explain some things! This chapter is broken in past and present–I couldn’t play around with pretty italics or symbols b/c who knows how the formatting will end up. So...yah. Warning to you all.
The Pirate In The Doll:
Part Five
Zoro peered through the front window of the display shop. His mind was on edge. He felt like such a coward for leaving, but at the same time, he convinced himself that it was for the best. Because he didn’t know how to deal with his enemy and he wasn’t about to run in half-cocked, thinking he’d win this battle on luck along. No, he needed some background and strategy–thinking in this manner allowed him some peace of mind concerning Sanji. It was nearly twenty-four hours since he’d left, debating with himself...and getting horribly lost in the process, which took more time figuring out how and why he’d somehow ended up at the state’s borderline. But he’d kept himself sane with denying that anything horrid had happened to the cook; that the blond was just at work and would come home and shit would start all over again because the cook would only come over and bitch him out and he would have to defend himself and Gin would get all jealous again–
Zoro needed more information to feel confident about his next move. Walking around the shop, he located the back door. Without hesitation, he began to kick. Every action was fueled with the need to get what he needed and get back to the building.
It wasn’t because he was going to ‘rescue’ Sanji or anything, he thought. This thing had involved him without an explanation, Zoro’s sleep was continously interrupted, and how was he supposed to get some sleep and thinking space to find a new job when he had some shitty ghost running around, thinking he had something going on with Sanji? Honestly.
The door folded in and Zoro wrangled his way into the shop. He wasn’t surprised to see that a great majority of the owner’s ‘curio’ was gone. There were many packed boxes stacked along the back room and corridor, and for a moment he stood there. Unsure of where to go or what to look for. Locating the owner’s back office, he found a bookshelf filled with leather bound books. He looked through one, finding that they were all handwritten accounts of almost everything that the owner had in possession. As he started looking for Gin’s name, he realized that he was going to need some help. So he threw the book down and hurried out of the shop, closing the door as best as he could behind him. Hoping that he didn’t get lost, Zoro took off to find his co-workers.
-
The little girl with her pale features, pretty black hair and lace trimmed dress stared up at him with an unwavering smile. Her bangs were mussed from the salty breeze that was carried off from the ocean, and her arms were chilled with goosebumps. Sanji stopped what he was doing to look down at her, tilting his head as she shyly held her doll up to her face. Her nanny was busy bitching over what she was going to do while everyone was at the party. The child had been sick for the past few days, her main cries for water. Sanji had given her some fruit flavored water upon hearing her cry for a drink, and now the little girl had decided he was a friend of hers.
The servants were busy preparing for the night’s party; a mingling and clash of the wealthy and their rivals. He had been cooking all day, annoyed at the other cooks and at the men and women that came in to swipe anything that caught their eye. Their employers were busy laughing and visiting in the garden down the hill. He’d just sent a boy down there with drinks.
Bizette had the deepest black eyes Sanji had seen on a child. They were wide and curious whenever she was sure no one was looking–but they turned shy and downcast whenever she was the center of attention. Her parents claimed her in name only, but it was the four nannies that were raising her. Kureha, the main nanny in charge and rumored to be a ‘witch’, was off performing some parlor tricks for the brave souls that dared to ask for her services. The woman Bizette had currently attached herself to was a red-haired thief that everyone knew stole regularly from her employers. But those that knew her sly stealing wouldn’t dare snitch–Nami was capable in that sense.
Nami finally stopped complaining about Bizette’s sickly mannerisms and tugged on her hair playfully to get her attention. “Let’s go, brat. We’ve got us a pretty dress to wear,” she said, Bizette finally tearing her eyes away from Sanji and looking at her.
“Nami, darling, ravishing as always. How about some fruit snacks before you go? Surely you wear yourself out being so beautiful all the time,” Sanji said smoothly, grinning wide and idiotic as he held out a bowl full of mixed fruits; all arranged prettily and garnished with mint leaves.
“Thank you, dear. But I’ve never had some of that rum-flavored rib-eye sponges atop of such pretty china, before,” Nami answered in a wistful sigh, pointing at one of the prepared meat dishes that were being dressed nearby. “I mean, not at all. It really looks so good...I wonder if I’ll ever get to...Madam and Mister are so stingy lately...”
“Oh, a little sliver will not be missed. Just a sliver!”
Sanji handed her a tea-cup sized plate of the meat, Nami’s eyes growing wide and grateful as she took it and hastily slipped it into Bizette’s toy bag that she had wrapped behind her bag. She then reached up and tugged on Sanji’s chin, pressing kisses on his cheek as he reddened and cringed with a show of extreme pleasure.
As they walked away, Bizette turned and stared over one shoulder, doll at her side as Sanji waved them off.
“Argh, that was just disgusting. One of the most sickening, most disgusting, and shameless displays of weak-assed pansy-footed moments that I’d ever seen...in the last hour.”
Sanji heaved a huge sigh of intense weariness, then turned to face one of the many security men that patrolled the grounds. At the sight of the lazy, green-haired man that loved to pester Sanji in great moments of stress, Sanji felt his face twist into a sneer. “Fuck off, asshat. She was weak with starvation. Emaciated, unable to continue doing her wonderfully kind and caring duties for Bizette.”
“Ch. As if her tits alone couldn’t provide her with enough sustenance for an entire month.”
Sanji shot him a sharp look, reddening. “You disgusting dog. How dare you speak of her–her–her–! How dare you speak in such foul ways!”
Zoro smirked, then turned, dumping one of the meat dishes into his mouth before tossing the small plate onto a counter. Sanji shuffled over with a kick that sent the other man flying into the wall, experienced cooks whirling around the scene with smooth dashes.
“Hands off, you green-haired ape! Like that spare tire of yours needs more nourishment!”
“‘Spare tire’?! This is muscle! Oh, but I’m sure you don’t know what that is...you damn ugly double legged stick.” Muttering under his breath, Zoro walked off and Sanji rushed over to make sure that there was enough meat to make up for that small plate before they could work on another.
There were more people than they were prepared for. By the time Sanji was finished with his cleaning duties in the kitchen, it was well after two a.m. Exhausted and worn, the blond had left the kitchen with a few others and made his way to his quarters located within the main servants’ beach house. Everyone was asleep and settled as he kicked off his tight leather shoes, and he disrobed down to his linen shirt and drawers. He collapsed on the bed without moving anything else and exhaled heavily. Through the open window nearby, he could hear the crash of the ocean breaking on the shore, and the plentiful wails of Bizette screaming for water. Her cousin, the daughter of his employer’s wife’s sister, had a colicky baby that was also joining in on the wails. Somewhere within the servants’ beach house, Sanji could hear old man Francois coughing up his usual lung decay, his wife sleepily comforting him in the process.
He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply and thankful that he wasn’t breathing in the stuffed and overwhelming scent of the kitchen. He woke himself up with a snort, eyes blearily lifting, feeling the telltale chill of morning. But something felt different. Something felt awry.
The exhaustion over yesterday overwhelmed his senses, and he relaxed once more, wanting a couple more hours of sleep when he felt the shift in weight upon his bed. He startled awake, sitting up to see the thin face of a man that he’d only seen hours earlier. Utterly bewildered as to why the man was on his bed as if he belonged there, Sanji gaped at him and wondered who the hell he was.
Nearly a half hour later, he remembered the man as being one of the guests for his employers. Sanji had thought that it was odd that a man such as this one was allowed within the vicinity with his grungy face and seemingly emaciated features, but he had his mind on other things. He remembered serving the man the full course that he’d served the others, but added in extras just because his appearance was so bad. He’d also thought that the man was recovering from a sickness; he’d thought nothing more of it at the time, but now, in this moment, he wished he did.
Because maybe he’d been better prepared or more alert. His mind was struggling to accept and deny them because none of what the man was telling him had to be sane. He pulled at his restraints, rope rubbing his skin raw, his fingers curled into tight fists. At the same time, he had to concentrate hard on not swallowing the uncomfortable ball of material that had been stuffed into his mouth, a gag tied into place to keep it there and to muffle any sounds he made.
“It’s early,” Gin had whispered to him, foul breath on his face and even fouler hands everywhere where Sanji didn’t want them. “It’s early. You make a sound now, it’ll be discovered that this place is crawling with Don Kreig’s crew. You know of Don Kreig, right? Everybody here in Haiti has known who the Terror of the Sea is...you should be so lucky that I had come back. Come back in time to see you.”
The way Gin spoke to him, it was as if they’d known each other personally for years. Sanji knew that this was his first time ever seeing the man–he’d remember someone like Gin if he’d met him.
“You thought I’d been lost at sea, hadn’t you?” Gin then growled, his voice low and menacing in the darkness. “You thought I’d perish and never come back. So you moved on.”
Sanji stared at him, wide-eyed and aghast, head spinning. Gin was over him, wearing clothes that stank of his body odor and the sea, that were uncomfortably soft against his skin as Gin shifted to cross his arms over his chest and lay atop of him that way. It was enough to make Sanji feel utterly violated, air constricted with the weight of Gin. Gin stared down at him for a few moments, then shifted an arm out from underneath his chin, reaching around his own body. When he straightened it out, Sanji was alarmed to see a knife in his hand, the blade shimmering when it caught the light of the moon and flame-brightened lanterns outside. Sanji’s heart rate increased with fear, and the weight of the cloth in his mouth threatened to choke him with the way he was breathing. Gin smiled slowly, full lips pulling back to reveal straight and even teeth. He twisted his wrist from side to side, allowing the blade to capture most of Sanji’s attention.
“My pet, you've disobeyed me once again , and disregarded my wishes. I am disappointed and angry with you,” Gin whispered, dark eyes flashing with malevolence.
Sanji felt himself tremble upon hearing those words, shaking his head slightly, wanting to forcefully protest that he was no one’s pet. Or that he had done anything to earn this twisted attention. He didn’t even know who the man was! He didn’t even know his name! He’d never seen him before yesterday! He pulled at his hands, but the ropes that had them tied to the metal of his headboard kept them in place. When Gin shifted up to his knees, his dark eyes trailing down the length of Sanji’s upper torso, the blond managed to bring up a leg and kick out.
Gin absorbed the blow to the face, growled low and caught the offending leg. Before Sanji could shift his other leg to do it again, Gin forced the first leg back so that his knee hit Sanji’s own chest, and pushed his heel up into the air. Then he drew the blade swiftly and deeply through the muscle and tendons just above the inside of his knee, severing the ability to lift and use the leg properly again.
Behind his gag, Sanji screamed. As he moved in life-threatening struggle, kicking wildly with his other leg while the other one lay useless and spewing blood, Gin licked his lips, caught the other leg and twisted his body around it to effectively pin it under one arm. In a fluid motion, he drew the blade over the same tendons and muscle of his other leg. In one utterly painful movement, Sanji lost the ability to use that leg as well. The pain and shock in having such injuries done to him so maliciously caused a shockwave to his thoughts. For a few moments, he blindly struggled against his restraints, twisting his body in an effort to throw Gin off and away from him.
Gin righted himself and growled, beady eyes wide with warning as he crawled over Sanji once more, a hand clamping down over Sanji’s nose and gagged mouth. “Shhh,” he warned, knife against his lips in warning. “You cry out to alert the others, and I assure you, your death won’t be pretty. There aren’t enough women here to satisfy those that hadn’t had one in months–you’ll compensate for them, for at least fifty other men. I wouldn’t even feel a thing in giving you up, you traitorous whore.”
Sanji couldn’t breathe around the fingers that kept his nostrils clamped shut. And it was so difficult to breathe effectively around the ball of material crammed in his mouth. Panic, terror and pain made it hard to avoid swallowing it, his mouth and throat utterly dry and irritated. His mind shuttered; he couldn’t, for the life of him, even remember his own name or status. His eyes were nearly blind with crazed fear, but somewhere it registered Gin’s threat. For a few moments, he struggled with himself. If he couldn’t fight off one man, how could he fight off fifty? He didn’t think that Gin was lying–any man that was willing to cut him, to hurt him in the way that Gin had couldn’t be trusted.
Seeing that he was going to get his way, Gin smiled once more.
-
The horror and pain had left him in shock. Heavy and blinding shock that kept Sanji still and quiet as Gin grunted and groaned above him. The smell of him was hideous, the feel of his body just as horrid, and feeling everything below his waist was just as torturous. His legs were hot with agony, tingling painfully with the loss of blood–it was similar to having a limb fall asleep and roughly coaxed back to life. The bed was wet and moist with his blood, and while Sanji registered that, he struggled not to register anything else.
Gin’s skin was heated and sweaty. His face was strained, tendons in his neck rigid as his full lips pulled back in an almost painful grimace. He pumped his straining length in and out of Sanji’s body, slowly and forceful, as if he had all the time in the world. Every grunt he made seemed to vibrate Sanji’s insides with intense disgust. Sanji never thought this would happen to him; never had he imagined the very thought of it every happening to men. He’d always (and rather ignorantly, he now realized) thought that this violent and horrid coupling between men was only a tall tale.
It was pain, shame and horror rolled into one fiery hot explosion that was just as similar as the splitting sensation he’d felt when Gin entered him. Numbly, he registered the uncomfortable feeling of Gin’s dick scraping against his insides, filling him with a fullness that made his face heat with even acknowledging the feeling. Gin’s hands were all over him–as if he were sharing this experience fondly with a willing lover.
In between his grunts and sighs, pumping his dick with full and powerful thrusts, Gin continued to talk nonsense to him. Through his numb and paralyzed haze, Sanji found strength to focus in on his grimacing face. He couldn’t feel his fingers or hands–but he felt minute flashes of raw burning whenever he stretched out or pulled on tired, strained muscles. His shoulders were cramping, his throat bared as he strained his head back–as if trying to keep that part of him from Gin’s reach. The material in his mouth continued to keep him aware that he was a swallow away from choking. The gag rubbed at the corners of his mouth–tight around his jaw.
Gin pushed up into his ass with one powerful thrust that made Sanji whimper–he was shamed to acknowledge the way Gin’s dick throbbed and thickened deep inside of him. He shifted, as if to try and draw himself away but the strong sting of pain in his legs drew a stilled reaction and another muffled whimper. Gin leaned forward, exhaling deeply over Sanji’s chest. Sanji could smell his own blood–the scent of sex. His stomach lurched.
He thought he heard another whimper, high-pitched and girlish, and felt his entire being freeze. But Gin’s hands distracted him as they curled around his limp dick. Sanji’s eyes shot open, and he lifted his hips in an effort to toss away the touch. Gin growled low, his fingers steely around one of the most sensitive parts of Sanji, and he made a high-pitched squeal that was alien to his own ears. Gin fell back on his heels, panting tightly before snatching Sanji’s hips and lifting them.
Sanji’s eyes widened at the new sensation, at the position. Bright stars and horror filled him as the position sent sparkles of heat deep into his belly. He moved to plant his heels on the bed to push off, but the loss of sensation there prevented that small movement. His legs wouldn’t obey–he cried out in frustration and horror, the sound muffled. At that same movement, the balled material slipped into his throat, catching the delicate flap of his epiglottis. Instantly he choked–his eyes bulged as he gagged and coughed violently, straining upward as his hands caught tight against the restraints. Gin sped up his pumps, growling low as Sanji struggled. Pressure made his face red, lungs tight–Sanji wanted to claw at his throat, registering death by asphyxiation as Gin finally climaxed, shooting his load deep into Sanji’s body. He growled aloud as Sanji continued to squirm–hacking and choking behind the gag.
The girlish whimper rose with distress, forcing Sanji to realize that they weren’t alone. Somewhere deep within his mind, he saw large black eyes underneath thick straight bangs. The few moments after Gin climaxed, he reached up to sweep his fingers beyond the gag and pulled the suffocating material out of Sanji’s mouth. The first gasp of air was loud and dry, Sanji’s eyes burning before he fell into choking coughs that Gin immediately muffled with the palm of his hand. It was torturous–his throat and mouth was dry, his lungs demanding needed air.
The panic started to subside once his mind and body realized that he could breathe clearly. Still, his heart was slamming hard and fast within his chest, the strong tingle of pain in his legs slowly pulling up to his hips. Gin focused on him, beady black eyes staring down into Sanji’s wide, dilated blue. Though his eyes watered and burned, Sanji stared straight up at him. Shock started to paralyze him once more as he realized the nauseating leak from his ass. Mortification and horror made his face screw up into a grimace. Gin finally removed his hand from his face. His softened dick slipped out from Sanji, an action that both men felt and heard within the intense silence.
Soon, Sanji began to hear the small shifts of movement from somewhere in his room. The hiccup and sniffle. The dry rasp of breath. His eyes widened with horror. Gin shifted back onto his heels to look over his shoulder. He then wrapped his fingers under the dripping ruin of Sanji’s legs, testing the depth of the swollen injuries and causing the blond to cry out as salt and sensation caused his legs to jerk in reflexive action.
“My new pet,” Gin whispered, drawing his hands up to lick his fingers. Sanji stared at him in silence, utterly disgusted at his actions and words. Gin sucked his own fingers, murmuring in approval. Then, gently, he pulled Sanji’s torn shirt together, covering most of his nakedness with the material. “You are useless, now. Pity. I could’ve taken you with me after Don Kreig finished up with this place. But I could not trust you after seeing you with him.”
Sanji’s head whirled. He was dazed all of a sudden–intense fog sweeping over him. Thoughts of a dead Nami, who must have suffered as he did by Gin’s hands. Of little Bizette, who was going to suffer the same fate. It all overwhelmed his sense of physical injury.
He heard himself whisper,” I’ve done nothing to deserve this. I’ve done nothing to anger you. I don’t even know who you are! I’ve never seen you before!”
Gin’s hands wrapped around his throat. For the third time within the space of an hour, Sanji found himself struggling to breathe. “You’ve taken company with the guard! You know the one! Twisting and writhing with shameless and wanton behavior in front of my own eyes! In plain view! You flaunt your devotion to him without thinking how much you’ve hurt me!”
Sanji shook his head wildly, wanting to cry out. Yanking at the ropes that rubbed his wrists raw. His mind was utterly confused–he had no idea what Gin was talking about. Whom he was talking about. Yet in this moment, Sanji had to think of every conversation, every interaction he’d had with everybody. The only true interaction was with Nami. But Gin wasn’t giving female appropriations–he was giving a male. And while Sanji thought of all the males he’d come into contact with, his mind simply couldn’t imagine the grave crime that was unforgivable in Gin’s deranged mind.
Despite being choked, he managed to protest, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re fucking insane!”
Gin released him, growling low as he shoved his face against Sanji’s.
“You’ll not speak to me in such a disrespectful manner again. I don’t like it when you refuse, or when you speak to me in such a shameless way. You’ll speak to me properly, and without any impudence. Is this in any way unclear?”
Sanji shook his head wildly, unable to comprehend how this man thought the way that he did. “You’re fucking insane! Fucking cracked! I’ll speak whatever it is I want! I don’t answer to you!”
“Such rebellion from somebody is who is utterly useless!”
“The sun burned out your fucking brain! You’re crazed!”
“I’ll teach you to disrespect me! I, your master and your savior! I was the one that plucked you from the ravages of your home! I sheltered and protected you, and here you rebel against me with your affections to another!”
“What are–?!”
Then they heard it. Heavy footfalls that entered the beach house. Gin stilled, then worked quickly. He was off the bed with a light jump, pulling up his trousers and underwear without cleaning himself off. Sanji lifted his head, struggling for air that didn’t want to cooperate with him, watching as Gin stalked to a corner of his room. Horror bloomed within him upon seeing Bizette, tied and gagged as he was. Gin pulled out the knife from earlier, eyes gleaming demonically as he jumped onto the bed, whispering harshly to the little girl. Bizette uttered no sound at all, Sanji watching in mute horror as Gin shoved her against his side.
The heavy footfalls neared, and Sanji knew without a doubt that they were coming directly to his room. Gin cut the ropes, releasing him without warning and forcing his arms down. Sanji’s mind screamed as Gin tore the gag off of him. In moments, he drew the blankets over all of them. Bizette was shoved hard against Sanji’s naked hip, and he squirmed as sensation made his arms burn with returning blood flow.
Gin curled over his body, no doubt smothering Bizette with his weight. His face was pressed against Sanji’s neck. It was an intimate position that one could clearly see from the door. It made his skin crawl. Softly, to Sanji’s ears only, he whispered, “One wrong word will have this child’s death.”
Sanji was paralyzed. The footfalls stopped outside his door. Terror, the need for safety and comfort all crashed within him–like the waves he could hear on the beach. The door opened. Sanji’s mind screamed continuously as the situation and traumas he’d endured minutes earlier made it impossible to think. But the thought of the small girl he could feel pressed obediently to his side had him racked with panic.
Zoro became visible from the doorway. Sanji knew the other could see the telltale shape of another form over him. His skin was clammy, damaged throat tight as he saw the guard’s angled face draw with confusion and surprise. Sanji’s eyes spoke of his terror. He tried to scream at Zoro with his mind, to tell him that he was in mortal danger. Couldn’t the man smell the blood that had been spilt? Couldn’t he see the stained blankets? Couldn’t he sense the horror and sickness of a deranged man?
Zoro’s eyes were narrowed and hard, lips drawing into a thin line. “You’re late, cook. They want you in the kitchen.”
Sanji couldn’t speak. But he felt his face screw up with a pleading, desperate expression. Too afraid to cry out or even answer, for the fear of Bizette’s life.
He felt Gin’s knife against the jutting angle of his hip–prodding him to answer. But he was too afraid to say the wrong thing. Zoro’s eyes dropped to the floor, and Sanji could tell Zoro could see Gin’s boots there. For a moment, Zoro’s face scrunched with surprise, but the look he sent Sanji was unreadable. Sanji felt his eyes burn with desperate emotion. He yearned with all his heart and soul for Zoro to realize that he was in danger.
Gin shifted with another painful jab with his knife. In his moment of distress, Sanji could actually feel the man’s rising ire the longer Zoro stood in the doorway.
Finally, Zoro shifted to move. Sanji couldn’t repress the small whine of anguish, Zoro shooting him another unreadable expression before walking away with loud stomps of his boots.
“Zoro–!” Sanji heard himself whisper, not fully realizing he’d done so out loud. He couldn’t lift his voice higher than that. “Come back–! Zoro!”
Gin tossed the blankets off as Zoro’s footfalls grew distant. The beach house’s door opened and shut as Gin tossed a half smothered Bizette aside. The little girl’s eyes were glazed, wet with tears. Sanji was struck with horror at that moment, the thought of being the cause of her murder flared within him.
Horribly, he could hear the slaves outside whispering frantically to each other. They knew what was going on–the strong men that worked the fields could no doubt hear what was happening through his open window, and he struggled to keep himself from crying out to them. He heard their depreciating whispers–he could feel their scorn and feelings of justice earned; a few were afraid that what was happening to him would happened to them. He heard one set of footfalls that fell right outside his window before hurrying off.
Everything crashed into blinding sensation as Gin slammed the knife deep into his chest. Bizette’s eyes widened, her gagged mouth opening, but no sound emerging. Before Sanji could even give a sound, Gin released his knife and reached out, twisted Sanji’s head sharply. A series of loud and unmistakable cracks shattered the tense silence as vertebra snapped under abnormal strength.
All sensation was lost. A choked sigh left him as he faced Bizette in an angle that was abnormal. She stared back in muted horror.
Sanji lost all control of his body–but he was still alive. Slowly strangling with the position his windpipe had been forced into. An intense feeling of defeat numbed his mind. Amazingly, appallingly, he could still hear Gin speak. A low whisper with an intense calm tone. Sanji couldn’t feel his body–he found it hard to focus. Bizette’s eyes were dark and sharp as she stared at him.
For a moment, Sanji faded away from the scene. His mind still registered noises, Gin’s strained whispers and grunts signaling actions Sanji couldn’t see or guess the nature of. There was another series of pops and cracks as his head was forcefully handled to face Gin. With this movement, air swept down his mangled throat; an almost useless action. It only allowed him to live. Gin’s demoniacal face was there in Sanji’s fading vision.
“You belong to me, now,” Gin whispered, eyes gleaming. His own shaking hands lifted–there was a lumpy, bloody clump in his thin fingers. Sanji’s mind refused to admit he was seeing his own heart. Because it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible to still be alive with his chest wide open, rib bones forced apart from the sternum, his heart sliced out from the protection and surrounding of muscle and bone.
Nothing but an overwhelming buzzing sound registered as Gin brought the warm, spurting organ to his mouth, teeth flashing before sinking deep. Without a sense of thought or emotion, Sanji’s blurring vision took in the sight of Gin biting and chewing two more times before gagging and spitting.
Gin’s face was demonic as Sanji heard him hiss, blood stained mouth eery in the moonlight. “Your heart belongs to me, now. Your strength and soul. You’ll come to me with every return you make to this world. I’ll always have what is mine.”
Then he stilled. He lifted his head and straightened, black eyes gleaming suddenly with a cautious brightness. To himself, he muttered, “It knows. It will kill me. I am only sorry for getting caught. But I don't regret taking him for mine. Always mine. He was my one kindness. It would have been an insult to my character to have not forcefully taken what treasure was presented to me.”
All apprehension of the world left Sanji at that moment. Sound, sight failed–until he found himself staring at Zoro’s horror-filled face. Smoke, flames and screams edged the permanently fading noises around him until there was nothing more but muted quiet. He watched in thoughtless silence as Zoro drew near him, anguished eyes taking in the gruesome mutilation. He himself was bloodied and soiled, but Sanji could tell, in a moment of clarity, that it wasn’t his blood. When Zoro realized that Sanji was still alive, the utter torment that filled every feature was enough to register within the darkness of silence and disassociation of Sanji’s dying mind. For a moment, Sanji watched Zoro’s hands lift and shake as they fell onto his face. He couldn’t feel it–couldn’t even remember what touch felt like. Zoro was speaking, but Sanji couldn’t hear or process what was being said. Zoro’s agonized expression were all Sanji saw before the brief flick of his thumbs drew over his eyelids, forcing them closed. With that, Sanji finally felt himself die.
-
In the present, Sanji remembered none of this. In the present, he stared at the utterly solid and still form of the demon that stood within the center of his apartment. Breathing in a slow, harsh manner as he stared at Sanji with burning malevolence. The air was heavy with tension–and Sanji wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. He simply stayed within sight of Gin, smoking up the last of his precious tobacco. He’d learned that Gin would leave him alone if he didn’t try to escape. Sanji had given up after his last attempt, jittery and still suffering with a headache that was amplified by his smoking. But it soothed his nerves.
He scanned his apartment, seeing the mess that had been made with their fights. Gin was strong and abnormally so. Sanji didn’t consider himself a physical weakling, but the other was faster, stronger and every hit he managed to land was utterly painful. Sanji wasn’t a seasoned fighter by any means, but he knew enough in how to defend himself. Maybe that was his weak point; maybe it contributed to his every loss to Gin’s rage.
Sanji was angry and frustrated; even a little hurt. Because Zoro wasn’t there. Because he felt abandoned and betrayed, and it burned at him. As he smoked and stared at the silent demon that never blinked or budged, Sanji cursed Zoro in his mind. Yes, they’d had an agreement based on mutual needs, but...but there were feelings. Sanji’s feelings. His hurt, confused and stubborn feelings that he felt were obvious to Zoro if Zoro weren’t so self-absorbed.
But then, if Zoro didn’t return those feelings, then there wasn’t a point to having his feelings. He glared at Gin, who was absolutely motionless. A breathing statue. He was at a loss of what to do. His head fell back against the wall with a heavy thump, smoke drifting into his eyes. He couldn’t understand a word Gin had said to him, ceasing to speak. Sanji had no idea why and what the man wanted from him.
He was feeling incredibly abandoned and helpless, and he hated to acknowledge both. He reached up to grip his hair with both hands, gritting on the cig but never taking his eyes from Gin. He tensed suddenly, hearing heavy footfalls in the hall stairway. For the countless time, he felt expectation fill him, trying not to admit his rising hope in that it was Zoro. But once more, he felt disappointment and irritation when the man tromped on down the hall.
He felt unbelievably frustrated with himself. To get this far in life without help or dependence on any individual, and then to find himself feeling needy of some idiotic moron that had to be taught everything they’d ever done in bed. An idiotic moron that was cowardly, selfish, incapable of feeling and a regrettable choice that was currently battling the decision to buy the pirate doll for top spot.
He slumped against the wall once again, exhaling around the dwindling cig between his lips.
Hurt slashed through his chest, even as his own pride battered it back from the forefront. He lifted his eyes to Gin, frustration for the unwavering stare and the lack of explanation making him focus away from his feelings for Zoro.
“Why won’t you say anything?!” he snarled, startled with his own voice. “Say something! Fuck you and fuck your stupid face!”
Gin said nothing. Staring in silence.
Sanji slumped against the wall, feeling exhausted. Yelling made his headache worse. He sighed and picked up another cigarette.
-
Zoro, with Luffy and Ussop in tow, burst through the broken doors of the shop. But he came to a stop upon the sight of a woman lowering a box of books to the floor upon their loud arrival. Her eyes, just visible underneath a sweep of blunt cut bangs, widened only a fraction before filling with calm.
“Sorry!” Luffy said, standing abreast of Zoro. His scarred face was bright with determination, his entire purpose filled with a mission that he was only too eager to be a participant of. Ussop stood behind them, bravado overexaggerating his own posture. “We need to do a few things. No one was here earlier, but we don’t have time to waste...”
She tilted her head thoughtfully, lips pulling into a knowing smile. “Ah. I suppose you were the ones that broke down the door earlier...I thought it was odd that nothing was stolen. My name is Robin. My father owns this store.”
“Look, it’s about a pirate doll that was bought a few days ago,” Zoro interrupted, making her frown. “Do you know anything about it?”
She opened her mouth to reply when Ussop cried, “It’s life or death! Lives are at stake! We’re going to stop it–well, Zoro and Luffy mainly will while I keep watch...er...just...in case they need me, but I doubt it because–!”
“Ussop! Shut up! Look, do you know about it or not, lady?” Zoro asked in irritation, stepping toward her. “Because if you don’t, you need to get your old man down here right away, or otherwise tell me where he is so I can go to him.”
When she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes. She sat atop of the box she’d been holding earlier, getting comfortable. “Yes. I know of the doll you speak of. Unfortunately, my father has selective hearing and had gone against my wishes in keeping it out of the shop. What would you like to know?”
“Look–ridiculous as it sounds, the guy inside of it is out. All this shit–it’s happening. The guy that bought it–he’s missing. And–and I know it’s because of that fucking doll that he bought here!”
Her eyes clouded, and her lips tightened. Her posture was rigid, but a finger trailed up to touch the length of her long, dark hair. “He’s found him, then. After all these years, Gin has been reunited with his lost possession.”
Blank stares made her smile slightly. Luffy squinted at her. “Huh? W-what do you mean...?”
“You know then, lady, of the doll?” Ussop asked shakily. But he still retained his tough posture. “How do we put ‘im back? Because Zoro and Sanji are just not the same anymore. And Zoro’s really bothered with Sanji being missing because–!”
“Shut up! NO! It’s not like that!” Zoro yelled in embarrassment. Ussop squeaked and wheeled back to put distance between himself and the red faced iron-worker.
Luffy gave him a puzzled look. “But Zoro....don’t you want to eat really good meals again? Isn’t that why you like Sanji so much?”
Zoro paused to think that one over, Ussop relaxing slightly. But he gave Zoro a puzzled look, wondering quietly over his reaction when it should have been obvious that the loss of Sanji feeding him was the more troubling deprivation.
The woman gave them a sad smile. “I’m sorry. Once Gin is out, he cannot return to his prison. Gin’s soul is demonic: he accepted a devil’s curse many years before that allowed him unearthly powers. His curse is a wretched one; to kill and ravage as many souls as he can to satisfy his demon benefactor. For every hundred souls he escorts to Hell, he is allowed one of his own. This man, Sanji, will always be his because of this.”
She was met with blank looks that slowly shifted into that of disbelieving and doubt. She knew that the story was a hard one to accept, but she was waiting for the moment when she was pressed for more information.
“...So...” Luffy started, then trailed off.
“...So...?” she prompted.
“...Uh...what...what happens now?”
“Well...it’s up to Gin–it’s such a shame,” Robin then said with a sigh. “For years I tried to keep the doll locked and out of sight, fearing that one day, Sanji would come to find him. When he becomes of age when he’d first passed, he would be drawn to Gin–that is because he belongs to Gin. Even if time had passed, and his soul had lost the memory of that commitment, he would return and live life after life, looking and reuniting with Gin.”
“But...” Zoro’s face was that of extreme distress.
She smiled sadly. “And you...I remember you...”
“...What?”
“All your feeling, all your regret that morning...you’ll spend your own eternity trying to fix what you felt you were responsible for.”
Zoro stared blankly at her.
Ussop was front and center in moments. “How do you know all this? How do we know you’re just selling us stories, freaking us out?”
Her eyes glinted. “I was there when the witch imprisoned Gin.”
Zoro’s voice was heavy, even as Luffy suddenly broke out in goosebumps. “What?! You were there?”
“You couldn’t have lived this long!” Ussop exclaimed. “Zoro said that Sanji said that he was told that the doll was from the early 1880's!”
“We have our ways,” she added, lifting an eyebrow.
“Bullshit!” Luffy cried, but he was grinning, already accepting her words. “Prove it.”
“I was...well...I was Bizette.” Her eyes shadowed heavily, and suddenly her face took on immense weight. Even as the name rang familiar with Zoro, he just couldn’t place where he’d heard it. It was familiar in such a way that his entire being jolted. “My first nanny, Kureha, was a practiced witch. I was raised more by her and the others than by my own mother. I was very young–too young to fully understand everything. But after what I had seen...something you will not remember, Zoro, because it was too horrible for you to ever want to remember...I had to do something. Kureha recognized a demonic presence within the bloody chaos on that plantation that early morning; while slaves were slaughtered, women were raped, material possessions pillaged, she went in search of it and found Gin. In the process, she found me. He’d already claimed this young man, and his crew mates had already decimated the plantation–and you as well, Zoro.
“But in the melee, when everything was in such great chaos, with the energy of everyone’s panic and the bloodlust of the pirates, Kureha was able to slay Gin’s overly strong physical body and was able to capture his soul within my doll, which Gin had allowed me to have to take with me. Eventually, years after I was able to accept and overcome what I had seen and experienced that morning, I was able to tell her what he’d done. She locked him away, knowing that that young man’s soul would eventually return to search for Gin. All Gin needed to manifest physically once more was to be within the presence of his possession.”
“But...that stupid necklace...I removed it,” Zoro confessed guiltily. “It was a stupid story! I didn’t believe any of it...only that it gave me the creeps. It was an accident, really.”
Robin smiled slightly. “The necklace was just a made-up tale my father gave to inspire intrigue. The key for Gin’s release was Sanji himself. I...am guessing that he has manifested.”
“...Yeah...I guess. But...that story reeks so much of bullshit. It sounds like a made-up tale!” Zoro growled in exasperation.
“Take it as you will,” she said with a gleam in her eyes. “I cannot convince you otherwise what you don’t want to hear, accept or remember.”
Luffy stared at Zoro. “So you already lived once?! Wow...that’s really cool, Zoro.”
“She’s lying! This is bullshit! She sells bullshit!”
“I–I believe her,” Ussop said shakily, but he resumed his tough-guy stance. “I can tell when people are lying. And she’s not lying.”
“This is stupid! You all concocted a stupid story and robbed Sanji blind, trying to convince us of witchcraft and bullshit! Your family probably murdered and chopped him up somewhere! He didn’t even have much to do that! He didn’t even–!”
“Take it as you will,” she said forcefully, and Zoro felt an overwhelming sensation of calm flow through him. When she judged that he was going to stay silent, Luffy’s eyebrows rising high on his forehead as he sensed abnormal tension from her, she continued on. “Just know that when Gin decides to slay your friend’s physical body, his soul will continue to come back to the physical plane to search for Gin once more–and have the cycle begin anew. Now that Gin has been released from his prison, he’ll wander the world to continue fulfilling his benefactor’s needs. But there is a way to stop this cycle. Do you want to hear it?”
Zoro stared at her in silence. He didn’t believe a word she’d just said. Uncertainty and disbelief warred within him, making it hard for him to focus on Ussop’s urgings and Luffy’s continued acceptance. But all it took was seeing Sanji in his mind’s eye, suffering some fate that Zoro didn’t even want to imagine. And all his warring feelings and denial made it difficult to continue thinking that what he was being told was bullshit.
With an intensely frustrated expression, but with a very stubborn stance, Zoro growled out, “...yes.”
Her eyes grew sad once more.