Violinist Of Hamelin Fan Fiction ❯ Broken Dolls ❯ Broken Dolls ( Chapter 1 )

A/N: I’ve done many arts on this weird pairing, so I decided to write a fanfic. Co-written with Ohtori Akio.

Title: Broken Dolls

Author: Melissa Norvell

Rating: T

Pairings: GuitarSizer

Summary: ONE SHOT. Sizer comes across Guitar and she recovers something she lost a long time ago. Lime-ish. Co-written with Ohtori Akio.

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Broken Dolls

By: Melissa Norvell

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Footsteps echoed through the halls. Sizer could feel multiple gazes upon her. The sound of rustling fabric froze her in her tracks. Cold dread blossomed within her. Each story, each warning coming back to haunt her as her mind rewound and played over and over again, what was happening with the rustling fabric. Shaken, Sizer stood, caught between two opposites. As often as the colder, weary side of her dominated her and she advanced. To her surprise, a shadowed figure rose from the ambiguity, a young man, adorned in black robes.

“Him,” Sizer mouthed, though she did not voice her discovery. He had come back…She wondered what business he had with her. She had been hurt many times by those close to her, and to see the tables being turned sparked a sort of contradictory reaction- sweet revenge played across her mind, yet deep down, behind closed doors and blood red wings, she used to callout for forgiveness, for compassion, for understanding. Those weak things that clung to her. Remnants. Dust.

The other figure noticed the intruder and gave the slightest hint of reaction. Sizer stood her ground.

“Guitar.” She spoke, more of a statement then a request. Her eyes went cold as she watched him rise, the eyes of heaven that still cried tears that turned to ice and hailed upon the world.

“To what do I owe this visit?” Guitar asked.

“Don’t. I’m not one of the fools you bring up here, I would hate for you to waste your words on me.” The chill in her voice, the bitter cold didn’t lift. It merely was, as so many things were, frozen.

“Oh?” He inclined his head slightly, his equally frozen frown plastered to his features.

“I came to ask you a question.” Her body remained sculpted in ridged, unyielding posture and defiance in her level gaze. The cold in her pressing at Guitar, forcing him to acknowledge her frozen state, the living sculpture of Sizer of the Skies, to respect it, to fear it, respond to its existence. Nothing. No reflection of her chill, no answer, oblivious, resolved and faltered. Staring at Guitar, Sizer held on to the opposite, to the beast in place of the king who had fallen long ago.

“You don’t have to stand there all day.” Guitar made a gesture at a couch. Despite his lack of involvement in the general angel body, he knew things. Knew that this young woman wasn’t the statue she made herself out to be. She was a painting coated in marble. Something lovely and complex lay beneath this exterior. She sat perfect posture. Looking out of a window, the slightest of sad smiles curving at her lips, she refused to meet his eyes. She wouldn’t allow herself to be drawn in by those devilish orbs, fall into his trap and let herself be tricked by acting on a whim.

“I never asked you to come here.” Each movement of his jaw, the cold sheen in his eyes manufactured and placed there to be warning and defensive, a mass of contradictions speaking to itself through a subtle threat.

“I know that, Guitar. I would hate to be rude.” She spat sarcastically and walked toward the couch, willing her posture, her body to carry her, not to betray her, and yet, there was a voice in her mind that wanted to turn back…to turn back to Guitar and…No! Her mind treaded upon the path that would lead to its destruction and part of it, part of her welcomed it, embraced the release that it promised, but in the end knew the hollow truth of promises too well to give in.

“…”

“Aren’t you talkative? She put the unsaid words in her eyes, the addition to what she spoke as she gazed at the Beast King before her. Her smile was soft and hidden. ‘I can play as well as he, so much a demon but then…aren’t I one too?’

“Hmpf.” Guitar closed his eyes and smirked at his most dazzling. Each muscle was taught and when he opened his eyes, they glowed with an unearthly beauty. He took in the proud figure of his comparison. Training had sculpted her body into one that was firm and toned, each muscle strengthened through the training. Her face was sharp, all high cheekbones and arched eyebrows. Yet, her eyes betrayed the rest of her; they were soft and warm, a window into something buried within.

That was his target.

She saw the shift in him, a subtle difference that most would not have noticed. Most had not become pawns in the game to disprove what it stood for. Yet she saw it shift from cold and stoic to silent predator. Something deadly and canine awoke within his eyes and seemed to watch her from beneath the placid calm of his gaze. Every nerve in her body screamed, every instinct in her soul shrieked, every part of her told her only one thing to do. ‘Go. You are this strong. Go, you are not the predator. Go, he will win. Go, losing will mean more then losing your wings.’

Her shoulder squared and she gazed back at him, summoning every inch of what she was. ‘I’m not going until I win this.’ Silence reclaimed her mind and with it, the sense of loss and a metallic taste. Fear. The used-to-be inside her shed silent tears, locked behind yet another door.

“What’s this all about?” He hissed. He played fair, even nice for what he truly was. He’d show you reason to do his bidding, and it would be your choice. That was how Beast King Guitar operated. His system was flawless.

The shell of a girl glared back at the panderer of desires. “All I wish is for answers, Guitar. Answers and I’ll leave. Answers and I’ll never come back.”

“Selfish girl,” He replied, approaching her. He entwined his fingers in blonde hair and Sizer remembered how much she hated being touched. But she didn’t flinch, she didn’t tense. She wanted to know, did not want to be the fool. Why was her brother involved in this? What compelled everyone to be sucked into this mess, if only to meddle with the hearts of the weak?

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Her used-to-be whispered. ‘You know everything that people know.’ She ignored the melodious sound of nostalgia often remembered, the sound of her longing. If she couldn’t hear it, it wouldn’t hurt her.

‘Tied by your own chains.’ It tisked, disappearing into a dark corner. ‘How will you free yourself?’

The hand abruptly left her hair and cupped her chin roughly, lifting her face up to look at him.

“You seem preoccupied, Sizer. Is something wrong?” He leaned nearer to her, his lips brushing her ear, taunting her, waiting for her to lash out. Waiting for her reaction. Sizer remained cold and impassive. She could feel his sneer, feel the taint of darkness and feel something within her answer it while its opposite fought and shrunk away screaming.

“Guitar-sama, but Ham-“Her words were cut off by Guitar’s finger, pressed against her lips. He was suddenly very close to her, his face too near hers, his breath caressing the contours of her cheek.

“Hamel isn’t the reason you came, Sizer. Or have I misjudged you? Would you really come here to ask me about your brother?” He was so very close, practically breathing the words into her ear, filling her lungs, her blood with the words. Two blades within her mind crashed and broke as she was cut asunder and unable to answer. ‘What’s the right answer?’

No answer in her mind as she lay, gazing at Guitar through a clouded haze.

‘You don’t belong here.’ Her used-to-be chided. ‘You should be asleep right now.’ She begged the voice to be silent, begged for her conscience to quiet itself. She wasn’t sure why she was here at this ungodly hour by herself, in this dark and evil room, consulting with the devil. Wasn’t sure why she felt the ice around her being chipped away- chipped away and not simply melted.

“Oh? It seems you have no answer,” His voice reverberated in her ear. “What do I do with you now?” A pause as he nipped at her ear. She stifled a gasp. No, we couldn’t have that.

“ All dressed up with no where to go.” Guitar continued. “Such a pity.”

A frantic mood washed over her. What should she do? What should she do?

“Don’t patronize me, Guitar,” she hissed bitterly, eyes widening ever so slightly. He didn’t cease his pursuits, rather he wrapped his arms around her waist, and fingers feather light as they traced patterns along her sides. Long, dewy fingers glided upwards to rest under her breasts; it took all of her strength to keep her breathing steady.

“See? Not so bad, is it?” He said simply. The used-to-be had closed her eyes to it by now, choosing dolls over the current events. Snap, snap, dollies’ arms are broken now, free from what empty sleeves that trap her. Snap, snap, dolly has a new outfit now. Snap snap, such a broken dolly.

“S-Stop…” Sizer pleaded fruitlessly. She didn’t want to admit her loss, not just yet. “Please…” She arranged the words, hoping to unlock some sort of magic phrase. “Stop, stop.”

“Please stop.”

“Stop please” Yet he continued to caress her, continued to play with his new toy.

Snap, snap.

“Damn you Guitar, I said STOP!” She screamed, arching her back, she waited for the sound to let her know it had cracked and it did not come. She fell back on the couch, her body drained, too tired to fight.

“Damn you Guitar, stop, stop, stop…” She turned her head to the side, her voice fading back into the darkness even as each word still tumbled from her lips. Guitar laid a hand over her heart, leaning in close, his lips brushing hers.

“So strong,” He pressed down slightly on the firm flesh beneath his hand, “Fighting so hard,” He pressed further. “But you were weak in the end. You came to me. The strong let the weak come to them. “ He kissed her on the lips, hard and forceful. She had lost.

‘Please stop…’

She had promised herself long ago that she wouldn’t cry. Crying showed that she had a weak heart, that it affected her. Being close to those who hurt her had no effect on her.

‘Who are you fooling?’ Used-to-be laughed, flipping through a magazine. ‘You have no reason to push away everything. It’s just an immature act of rebellion.’ Sizer wouldn’t let herself believe that. No connections, no ties severed. Like two magnets with identical poles. They push away naturally.

Used-to-be sighed. ‘Whatever you say. I have a bucket of your tears right here, see? I’ll keep it here whenever you need it. Just close your eyes and let them come.’ She resumed her interest in the magazine. Sizer had sighed, a shudder.

She felt them burning hot against her eyes, threatening to seep through her lashes and stain her pretty, flawless face. Her wall of ice was still being chipped away, something terrible swinging a pick wildly, shards scattering through the air. Blood mixed with ice.

‘Stop please…’

‘Don’t you know, Sizer, I’ll never stop.’

‘Guitar-sama…’ Sizer felt the tears as they drowned her, she felt herself melt with them, lose herself to them. She let herself stop fighting and float away, just stop being and float away.

Used-to-be held out a hand and felt a tear drop.

Guitar had wordlessly removed her clothes, and she lay on the couch, vulnerable and weak. Soon to be broken. The tears flowed unabashedly, yet silent were they; she wouldn’t satisfy the man’s sick longing with a whimper. Then he would truly win, and she would lose to both herself and he. He placed a thumb on her chin and turned her face towards him. He ran the thumb over her lips.

“Aren’t you supposed to be strong?” He trailed a series of licks down her stomach, stopping briefly above his target.

“I was never strong…” She spoke to herself. He then took her. She didn’t cry out, just bit her lips and closed her eyes.

“That’s right,” He said, once he had finished, dressed in full, unruffled. “In the end, you were just a girl.”

Snap, Snap.

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THE END

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A/N: What do you think?  Please review and tell me!  It’s been a long time since I’ve written for this fanfiction.  Tell me what you think in a review.