Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ World Curled Dark ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

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

World Curled Dark
by scribblemoose & Gwendolyn Flight

Prologue

The world curled dark.

He coughed, weakly, spattering the white sheets crimson. Hands shifted, on his back and under his belly, broad-palmed, long-fingered, somehow familiar hands. He heaved again, feeling the groan through his ribs. Fire limned Shion's gift.

A sob shook him then.

"Shh, Aya, shh . . ." He was aware of Yohji's voice, dim beyond throbbing red, the screaming of sensitized neurons complaining of a pulse. Another cough shattered him, and a gobbet of deep tissue splattered the side of the basin.

"Oh, God." Yohji's voice. "Oh, God, we've got to get you to a hospital. Omi!" Yelling now.

No.

No.

"No," he whispered. It hurt.

"Yohji-kun, what is it?" Omi's voice, high, worried. "Is it Aya-kun?!"

"Look at this." One hand left his back. The other still supported his curled-over form. "Look at it!"

"Oh, Aya . . ." Omi moaned.

"Get Ken." Yohji sounded as though he'd been shouting, or smoking, his voice rough. "I'll need help to carry him."

"Yohji?"

"If we don't get him to a hospital he's not going to make it!"

Was Yohji crying?

"No," he said again, perhaps a bit louder this time. His arm, folded beneath his broken ribs, pushed weakly at the filthy sheets. His blood was everywhere. "No!"

"Aya, be quiet." Yohji, his voice harsh, angry. Aya was panting. Stars pulsed behind his eyes. Omi was gone.

"No hospital," he rasped. "No . . ."

"Shut up!" Yohji shouted. "You're dying, Aya." He stopped on a breath, like he'd been punched quite suddenly in the diaphragm. "You're dying," he whispered, his free hand coming up to stroke Aya's crimson hair back from his pale, sweating face.

"I'm fine," Aya said weakly, fingers still scrabbling at the sheets. He would rise in a moment. He would.

"You're not fine, Aya." Yohji was sobbing openly now, and Aya stilled, hearing him. "We should never have brought you here. We all need treatment or . . ."

"You're hurt?" His voice was barely audible. He had forgotten. The world pulsed black.

"Aya!" Ken's voice. Omi scrambled in behind him, and suddenly he was back on the bed, unsupported, as Yohji and Ken attempted to rig a stretcher.

"Yohji?" he whispered, but no one heard. Omi ran out of the room again. At least one of them was unharmed. And finally he let it all fade away.