Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Yume Oboro ❯ Chapter 10

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

Chapter Ten
Malik Ishtar was dead. There was no more life in him, no more meaning. What he had become was a shell. A useless body that lived on the outside, but had died inside. There was nothing left for him anymore, nothing worth doing, nothing worth saying. He was obedient, he listened and did what he was told without fuss, like a pet was supposed to do. And like a dog, he obeyed his master's command, bending over backwards for him when he wanted, talking only when his voice was needed, and thinking only when his master allowed him.
He would cry sometimes. The tears and fear never left him. He was scared of his master, scared to death for what he'd done to him, how he'd damaged his body so, and that fear, the creeping, gut-wrenching fear always lingered, like an itch, it could never go away completely. His body had been damaged beyond repair, way passed any hope, and all he could do now was...nothing.
Life as he knew it had ceased to exist. He was just as good as dead, all at the mercy of his captor, his master. His master took care of him like a doll, feeding him only when he needed it, letting him out of his cage only when necessary, and keeping a close eye on him at all times. He would still hug onto Malik, claiming to love him, never let anything bad happen to him, touch him and defile him and rape him over and over, but Malik didn't care anymore.
Because he was dead. And nothing he did mattered. He'd come to accept it finally. Once half of his sight had been cruelly wrenched away from him, when Mariku stabbed his eye out and raped him on the kitchen floor all that time ago, he'd finally accepted defeat and took in his new life with a whole new perspective.
It was hell on earth, and since he was dead, he'd just have to deal with it. There was no happiness, no sadness or anger, for Malik felt nothing, said nothing, did nothing. He couldn't even bring himself to think like he used to anymore, even coming to refer to himself in third-person. He knew it was crazy, that all the abuse and mental trauma had finally made him snap, but he didn't care. Because in his mind now, the new mind, the new him, calling himself 'I' was like saying he was still alive, and he was far from that. In his new life, there was no 'I', there was only Mariku, and Mariku was always there. He was his God, his caretaker, his everything, and without him, Malik would truly be nothing.
Malik had learned his lesson. He'd taken it seriously, finally broke down every last shred of resistance he'd had. Now with only one eye and having half the side of his face wrapped up in a bandage, he now knew the horrible extent of Mariku's anger, and should he provoke him anymore, losing another part of his body would probably be the least of his worries. Not that he cared, but if he was forced to live this horrible life, he'd rather do it with as much of his body as he could.
Having only half of his eyesight had taken awhile to get used to. Mariku never apologized for it, only hugging onto him and saying all the nonsense of how he loved him and that what he did was for the best, that taking his eye was punishment, and he needed to learn that he wouldn't be leaving. With an eye gone, Malik had become jumpy. Not being able to see the whole right side, every little noise had made him paranoid and he'd jump, his body forced to twist the entire way around to see what had caused it, only to find something stupid like a branch rubbing against the window, or the wind making the house creak.
Malik supposed he could get used to his new life. If he was going to be here for the remainder of his days, why shouldn't he try to make the best of it? Making Mariku angry was the last thing he wanted to do, and running away and fighting did no good, so the only thing left to do was...just learn to like it. If he did that, if he could train himself, force his body to cope with this new lifestyle, then it would be less painful if he could learn to enjoy it, like Mariku's rape, take part in it, even...love him back. At least then, it wouldn't be rape anymore.
It would be a huge change, to force his body to do something it definitely didn't want to do, but he had to do it. He was dead, so what did it matter? It didn't. Nothing did anymore. He had no more dreams, no more hope of escape or rescue, he'd even given up for Isis, on returning to her.
Physical death didn't scare him so much anymore, now that he'd accepted his fate, now that he was as good as dead anyway.
Buzzing came from the TV in the living room, indistinct voices, but he barely took notice of it when he woke up that morning, naked, almost always naked in that bed. And as always, Mariku's hand would wound around him and pull him close, holding him, kissing him, whispering proclamations of love, but there was no arm this morning. There were no kisses, whispers, nothing, and he turned his head, surprised when he saw the spot next to him empty. Mariku was always, always with him, so this was alien to him, waking up alone. He didn't like it. It was out of routine, it disrupted the schedule he'd grown used to, and made him a little afraid of the change. Mariku had really done his damage. Malik was disgusted with himself, sickened that he felt wrong about Mariku not being there for once. Back then, he'd give anything to be left alone in this hell, and now he was wishing for the older one to be with him, just to assure him that things would remain the same as they had been for awhile. Getting into a routine, doing the same things over and over, he could deal with it, get used to it, and this just upset that routine.
He pulled the covers up to him, hiding his chest, like it would save him or give him some form of comfort. There wasn't anything he could do, though. All there was to do now was wait for Mariku, see if he came back, and if he didn't, then oh well. Malik would stay where he was. He wouldn't move. He would be obedient.
No sunlight poured through the window this morning. It was dark and depressing, and he knew that meant it would probably storm later. He could faintly hear the wind making the house creak, and he stared at the lumps his legs made under the blue covers as it creaked and creaked and howled a little. He was going crazy. If things continued like this, if he continued on like this, he would surely kill himself, if Mariku didn't do it first. Death wouldn't be escape, though, and that saddened him. If he were to die, they would still be there. The scars, the mental trauma, Mariku's touches... It would all still be there, in his memories, on his body. Death wouldn't free him.
I was...no. He was...he couldn't think like that, he was no longer an 'I'. He was no longer himself, his own person. Everything about him from his body to his mind, belonged to Mariku now. Mariku owned him, and he couldn't think like this. H-he had to like it here. He had to make himself like it. He would like it. He just needed to...needed to make himself like it. He would like it, he would like Mariku, he would...he would...
No. Tears were falling and he was cursing himself for his weakness. He was supposed to be training himself to accept his lifestyle, so that meant no more tears, no more crying and thinking there was escape. Yet, they got all his depressing emotions out, and he really needed that right now. He hadn't smiled in such a long time, he'd felt pain almost every day, and now he knew that there was no escape, so all he could do was sniffle, reach up and wipe away the tears, and wait for Mariku to come into the bedroom and tell him what he could and couldn't do that day.
He'd cried for awhile, trying so hard to stop, biting his tongue, his lips, until the blood dripped out, and once he felt like he couldn't cry anymore, he suddenly stopped, dried it up, took a deep breath, and let it out as the bedroom door creaked open.
Mariku stood there, and he wasn't surprised. And Mariku was smiling. He always smiled, even after everything he'd done, was doing, would do, how could he possibly find it in him to muster something so misleading as a smile? That misleading smile was always directed at Malik, at weak Malik, because there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say. Mariku had his own little pet, and he'd been taking care of it just like that. A pet. A tool. A toy.
Mariku said nothing as he crossed the room, moving toward Malik who shrank back a little, but it was barely recognized. His resistance was all but gone--shattered more like it. It'd been taken away from him just as his eye had been: Brutally wrenched from his body, cut out with blood leaving a trail behind.
Mariku moved onto the bed, sidling up next to Malik who did not resist. He was good, he would like it, he would make himself like this... "Are you feeling well?" A cold hand was suddenly placed on his forehead and Malik didn't dare say anything at the unexpected and random move. The hand felt cool, and...good. He had been a little hot, but he'd thought nothing of it. "You're a little warm, Malik. You might be getting sick." The cold and long fingers trailed down the side of his face, cupped his cheek for a second, rubbing, rubbing like a master rubs his dog, and then it left to fiddle with the bandage around his eye. "How's your--"
He'd jumped when he felt the pressure start to leave his eye and shifted away from Mariku, giving him a horrified look with his remaining eye. H-he didn't like the feeling...that horrible feeling of Mariku trying to untie the bandage from around his face. He'd grown used to it, so now it felt like a second skin and...he didn't want to part with it. It was security, comfort, and it hid the harsh reality he refused to face. He didn't want to see his face, how horribly Mariku had deformed it, and he didn't want him taking his comfort away, the last little thing he felt like he owned. Of course, he had nothing anymore, and Mariku only frowned at him, arching his eyebrows and moving closer to him, almost like he saw Malik as a stubborn child who refused to do something you told them. "Malik, I need to check your eye. It could get infected if we aren't careful. It's a little bloody, come on, let me see."
Like he was one to talk, like he had a right to talk about any of this. It was his fault, Malik didn't choose to have his eye stabbed out, he didn't-- He...he... Tears began to fall down one side of his cheek and he covered his face, sucking in air and sobbing quietly into his fingers. He was so broken, he was so destroyed. It was all his fault. It'd been his fault from the beginning. Was he so stupid that he couldn't see that, even now? He had no power, no control...no anything. "I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he spoke, lips dry and making it all the more difficult. He didn't even know why he was apologizing. Perhaps since it was his fault, had been from the beginning, then he really did stab his own eye out. Apologizing didn't help, he didn't even mean it, but it came out anyway. Why? Why at Mariku? Why give into him? Because Malik had absolutely nothing left. Giving in would make things better. He could force his body to cope with this, he could make himself like this. "I'm sorry, Mariku."
Strong arms were wrapped around his body and he was pulled into a chest. He didn't waste time to reach out and grab that chest, hug onto it and cry into the shirt that covered it. He just didn't care anymore, and even if Mariku was his hell on earth, he was really the only one there for him. He was his everything. "Shh," Mariku cooed him, rubbing the back of his head, playing with his hair and even rocking a little, much how a mother would do a child, but Malik didn't care. He wasn't humiliated. It was his fault anyway. "Don't cry, Malik. Everything's going to be okay."
No...it wouldn't. He knew that, but...that was okay. It was okay that things wouldn't be okay, because he'd finally given in. He was putting in an effort to like it here, to like Mariku. It wouldn't be that bad. He could learn...he would learn. More tears fell, and he couldn't stop them, but Mariku didn't seem to mind that his shirt front was now soaked. He just rocked back and forth, shushing him, stroking his hair, planting a kiss to the top of his head every now and then, telling him how much he loved him. "It's all my fault. I'm...I'm sorry for running away." He gripped the shirt tighter, crying a little harder, choking when he spoke. "I-I'm sorry. Mariku, I...I love you." There. He'd finally said it, he finally shackled himself to his new life, and now there was no turning back, there was no reversing this. He would just have to go forward and hope for the best.
The proclamation seemed to have shocked Mariku. The stroking stopped, the rocking, everything he'd been doing, and he was still, the only indication of him still there being his breathing and the arms that were still wrapped around Malik. Then, finally, "...Thank you, Malik. I love you, too. I knew you would love me. I'm sorry you had to lose your eye over this. It shouldn't have gotten that out of hand, but...it's over and done with." Pulling away, Mariku unwound his arms and stared at Malik, Malik who was...smiling a little, the tears still flowing, but he was smiling for the first time in a long while. Mariku moved into his face and kissed him, long and hard, running his fingers through his hair in the back, shoving his tongue almost down his throat, rolling on top of him and pushing him down onto the bed, and Malik did not resist. He even partook in it somewhat, kissing back, allowing Mariku access into his mouth when desired, and lying back and letting the older one do what he wanted with his body.
Yes...he could cope with this. Acceptance. It wouldn't kill him to do this, he'd just have to train himself to like it. Even when Mariku pulled his clothes off, made love marks all up and down his body, kissed and touched and licked every inch of him possible, Malik coped. It still felt weird, it still scared him, all these touches and the feeling of Mariku's cold, freezing lips against his hot skin, but he was training. He didn't know how long it'd take, but eventually, he'd get used to it, maybe even like it, maybe even give back a little. The thoughts terrified him, even more when Mariku moved down to the parts in between his legs and had at them, causing Malik to moan and writhe and arch his back just like he was supposed to.
It hurt, and yet it felt so good at the same time. He cried again, but the tears weren't real. They were tears of joy, he was happy when Mariku pleasured him, he wanted more and more when Mariku pounded into him, he absolutely couldn't get enough of it when Mariku did him long and hard onto the bed that morning. It hurt so much.
Hate and love, they were both mixed, until he couldn't tell what was what anymore. This...this was love, it had to be. Mariku loved him, he really did, and Malik loved him back. There was no more hate. He had no more room left in him to hate.
The blood was hate, as he was stretched and pooled out of him, red and bright and warm. The semen, Mariku's semen, was love, white and pooling out of him also. Red and white, hate and love. Were they really so different? Were they really just two sides of the same coin?
Malik screamed when he came, as did Mariku above him, and both were spent. Mariku hugged onto him, and Malik was still crying, always, always crying, but he wasn't sad or angry. He was happy. Those tears, the warm and large and wet ones, they were joyful. They had to be, because Mariku loved him, so they had to be!
"Malik, I love you. I love you so much. I would die for you."
He was completely blind when the tears overtook his remaining eye, but he was still smiling when Mariku wrapped his arm around him, pulling him under the covers and kissing and hugging onto him. "I love you, too." He closed his eye, feeling so sleepy. "I'm sorry." Yes, yes, he loved that arm that wrapped around him, he loved those gentle kisses Mariku gave to his cheek, nose, forehead, ear, lips.
This wasn't so bad. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. He finally felt like he could breathe a little and...it wasn't happiness, but he could make it there. After all, you made your own happiness. Like those people out there who had nothing, lived in nothing, were nothing, but they were so happy, the happiest ones on earth. Malik would just have to learn. He would love Mariku, he would make himself love the touches, the kisses, grow comfortable with them, and give them back. He could do it, he could do it...
Darkness finally overcame him and he fell asleep in Mariku's arms.
***
"Mariku?"
The tiny voice jarred him out of sleep and Malik moaned a little, trying to wake himself up, half realizing he was still locked tight in Mariku's grip and he froze when the older one shifted a little, leaning up in bed. "What is it, Kisara?"
"...Dinner is ready."
Another shift, and Malik was pulled up in bed along with him, glued to Mariku's body as he was squeezed in a crushing embrace. "Okay, be right there."
Malik only saw Kisara's silhouette when she walked back out the room, closing the door and encasing them in darkness. That's right...earlier that morning, Mariku had ra--loved onto him and he loved him back. They must've slept all day. He tried not to shiver when Mariku moved the covers off of them and leaned up out of the bed, stretching a little and turning around to face him. He still felt so uncomfortable underneath that gaze, but NO! He had to like it, so he smiled back. It was weak, but a smile nonetheless and Mariku offered his hand which Malik took a little tentatively. He didn't know why he wasn't surprised when Mariku tugged him forward and kissed him, but it still terrified him and he swallowed down a choke of fear. So scared, always scared. When would the fear finally end? He hated this so much.
"I love you, Malik." Mariku spoke between kisses, hardly giving himself time to breathe as he spoke, huffing and sucking in air, covering Malik's entire face with as many pecks and licks as he could. "I want to love you all the time. I want to make love to you everyday. I want you so bad. You're so beautiful." Tugged forward again, and Malik was hugged, sucking in air from Mariku's greedy mouth. "I'm so glad I met you, Malik. I'm so happy. Do you love me?"
"Yes."
"Say it."
"I love you."
Mariku moaned, taking a hand and running it down Malik's back, touching his rear a little and pulling him closer. Malik bit down a wince. "Are you hungry?"
He nodded.
"Let's go eat."
Malik was released, only for Mariku to grab onto his hand and link his fingers with his, squeezing a little to entice Malik to hold back. He obeyed, crushing his fingers against his kidna--his lover's and Mariku's face couldn't have been lit up anymore than it already was. He led them over to his dresser and tossed some clothes to Malik which he threw onto his body a little too fast, that terror of his naked body being exposed in front of Mariku never leaving him. Once both were dressed and deemed appropriate, Mariku led them out of the room and passed the kitchen and to the living room where Kisara sat at the table, waiting patiently with the food already spread out. Mariku let go of Malik's hand long enough to bend down and plant a small kiss to her forehead. Malik looked away, seating himself on the end opposite Kisara, avoiding her gaze as Mariku seated himself next to him.
This was...so weird. It was almost normal. Almost. When Mariku passed Malik a plate, urging him to fill it up with bread and some sort of vegetable stir fry Kisara had cooked, Malik felt a little lost. It felt like it'd been forever since he'd done something like this: Sitting around a table full of food with people and eating like nothing was wrong. But...nothing was wrong. He liked it here. He'd already told Mariku he loved him, so now he was bound. He would just have to either deal with the fear, the uncomfortableness, or tear it so far down that it wouldn't think of surfacing again. Faking happiness only made him feel more miserable, but he could make it real. There would be no more tears, no more pain.
He was so selfish and stupid. He couldn't do this. No matter how hard he thought it, it was impossible.
He didn't know why, but his head lifted up to look around the room, completely at random, and he spotted a calendar with marks and other normal things like grocery lists, important dates, and other cliché normal things. The thing that struck him the most almost made him vomit.
April 2011. He...oh God, if this calendar was accurate, then he'd been here for over a year. A whole year...a year, a year, a year of rape, of torture, of love, of hate, of being held captive...a year. Wasted, a whole chunk of his life just ripped away so easily. He choked on a sob, swallowing it and rising from the table, receiving a confused glance from Mariku. "I, uh, have to go to the bathroom." Mariku nodded, seeming to have not found anything wrong with it, and Malik pushed his chair back, trying not to seem too hysteric, trying to remain calm, and passed through the kitchen, down the hall, passed the bedrooms, and turned into that small bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.
The mirror was right there and he dreaded facing himself, looking at himself. He hadn't done it in such a long time, but he swallowed his fear for once, closed his remaining eye, and stepped into view of the mirror.
Was it possible to age in such a short amount of time? When you looked at it, was a year really that long? Yes and no. What Malik saw wasn't himself. He wasn't Malik, he was someone different from what he remembered. His white blonde hair was longer, hanging past his shoulders, no longer feathery and soft-looking, but now thin and almost stringy, probably from stress. His face wasn't round, vibrant, and young anymore, but sunken and thin. What shocked and scared him the most was his eye. It was filled with fear, with hysteria, darkened with circles under it, a little red from always crying, and this just wasn't him. This wasn't himself as he remembered. He didn't even recognize himself, but...it was him.
A little splotch of blood coated his bandage and he reached a finger up to touch at it, rubbing it softly over and over. He...he hated it so much, but his fingers moved on their own, unraveling, untying and unbinding the white cloth from his face until it snaked and uncoiled into the sink, blood-soaked and smelling a little from being wrapped for so long.
It was horrifying...his face. Without the bandage to hide the hideous and ugly truth, he almost looked somewhat normal, but now with that deformed eye in plain view, he looked like a monster. It was swollen a little, slammed shut, dry blood dripping from it a little, and shining from being wrapped up so long. He touched at it, wincing when it hurt, but not surprised at the pain. This was what he got for thinking he could get away. He deserved it for being so stupid, for talking to strangers online. Everything he got, it wasn't enough. He deserved a whole lot more than this.
A sob came out and he collapsed to his knees and out of view of the mirror, curling into a ball on the floor and crying a little. He hated this so much, but...this was his hell and he would continue to suffer. When would it finally be enough? When would he finally die and be released? Would he continue to live his whole life here? The thought of getting old here and still being with Mariku made him sick. What if Mariku killed him when he got older, when he grew up and was no longer attracted to him? It would end the suffering, though. The faster Mariku killed him, the faster he'd be out of here. He found himself hoping, wishing Mariku would do it, hoping beyond hope that Mariku chose to get tired of him than make him stay here until he was an old man.
A knock came at the door and he gasped, not realizing how loud he was crying. He dried it up immediately, not wishing to cry in front of Mariku.
"Malik? Are you okay?"
His voice would shake, but he stood up and straightened himself up, calling out with a strong voice, "Yes, I'm fine. I just...I took my bandage off."
The door handle jiggled. "You shouldn't have done that, Malik! You might hurt yourself! Let me in."
He obeyed. Still obedient, as he had been trained and despite all the thoughts, he was programmed to do this, to listen to Mariku, and unlocked the door, stepping back to let the other in. He was jumped on instantly, Mariku cupping his face, forcing him to look up at him, asking him if it hurt, Mariku glancing down at the bloody mess in the sink, and kissing Malik's cheek, apologizing for the hurt, that his eye was the way it was now.
He didn't mean it, but Malik pretended he did and stood there while Mariku ran to fetch some more wrappings and things to clean him up with. The other was back in no time, being as gentle as his hands would let him as he cleaned Malik up the best he could, receiving some winces and such when he pressed too hard on his eye. "I'm sorry, Malik. Try to bear with it."
He'd been bearing this whole time, but said nothing, just clamped his other eye shut and let Mariku do whatever he wanted. He was so pathetic, giving up like this, but there was just nothing else he could do.
His eye was cleaned, bandaged, and taken good care of by Mariku who pulled him into a tight hug afterwards. "You're so beautiful, Malik, even without your eye. I love you so much. Do you love me?"
"Yes. I love you."
"Were you done eating?"
He nodded, reaching up to hug Mariku back. "Yes." His responses were almost robotic, automatic.
"I want to show you how much I love you. Come with me." And he was tugged by his arm once again, Mariku leading him up the hall and to the bedroom where he would always take him when he was feeling desperate for love, for Malik to love him back. What if he did? What if he just loved him back? It wouldn't be so bad. Maybe Mariku wouldn't be so rough with him. He'd been getting carried away lately, taking him hard, going fast and rough until Malik would bleed. He never used lube anymore, getting so into it that he would 'forget' and take him dry, but Malik didn't dare complain about it. It always hurt. The wound never healed. It was just ripped open once more and stretched and twisted to Mariku's liking, but the hurt would always end, and the pleasure and the good feeling would come up to soothe the pain.
Mariku slammed the door shut with his foot upon entering the room, whirling around and pushing Malik against it, attacking his mouth right away. It was his favorite place to go to and it was always picked first, the place his mouth always kissed first. Malik tried not to wince and quake as Mariku licked his lips, demanding entry. He gave it, as always, he let go of everything and just sat back, allowing Mariku anything. He never had a say-so, this was never about him, so there would be no point in trying to avoid it. It would happen whether he liked it or not. Mariku's tongue was always thick and hot and invading and it danced with his, up down, all around, licking his teeth, his lips crushing against his own and sucking a little, just to put a tight feeling to it, and Malik's brow furrowed when Mariku got carried away as he always did, taking his hands and pulling Malik's wrists up until they were attached to the wall. It was almost as if he wanted him to resist, like he got some sort of sick pleasure out of dominating him while Malik tried a futile attempt to fight back, and since he was weaker, the more powerful Mariku could easily stomp on him like an insect and do what he wanted.
After feeling like he would pass out from lack of air, Mariku finally left Malik's mouth and trailed his tongue up the side of his face, kissing the top of the bandage, kissing his cheek below it, and even trailing to nibble on his ear a little. Malik just sat there and took it. He didn't jerk away, try any attempt at escape, he just stood there like a statue and let Mariku play with him.
Mariku took in his body because he was selfish. He kissed and licked and touched and did everything he could do to Malik while he was still clothed, taking a particular interest in his neck and keeping his mouth planted onto it most of the time, sucking, kissing, nibbling a little, creating hickies. Malik's hands were still attached to the wall should he try to get away. He didn't know why Mariku insisted on holding him down anymore, not unless he wanted him to fight back like he'd thought before, but he wouldn't run.
The cold lips that made him shiver and grow goose bumps before began to get familiar with him again until he almost didn't feel them on his skin anymore. The feeling was short-lived when they trailed back up to his face and he felt the recognizable feeling of nausea settle into his stomach. He didn't know why his body acted the way it did. While his mind screamed and begged to get used to it, for him to love Mariku, it seemed he couldn't will his body to like what it felt. It knew, and it was disgusted, scared of this, of Mariku.
"I love you." Mariku's mouth was so warm, his tongue so long and big and it was moving over his face again, down to his lips, into his mouth where it danced with his again. "I love you so much, Malik." His long legs were moved in between Malik's tangling a little with his, and Malik could feel Mariku getting hard against him, knowing why that terrified him as it always did. Mariku ground against him a little, rubbing a little against his leg to stimulate himself and Malik gasped at the horrible and sickening feeling of Mariku pleasuring himself against him like that through his pants. He was reaching his limit, and soon they would be naked, and soon Malik would be on his back, forced to look up at Mariku as he was ripped and torn to shreds again and again and again.
"I love you." Malik found himself speaking, but it was robotic, he been trained to say it, even when he didn't really mean it. Mariku moaned at it, grinding a little harder, his face twisted into concentration, and then he stopped, brow sweating a little.
"...Don't...don't get me so...elated like this, Malik, before I even...undress you." There was something in the way he moved, choppy and unorganized, that made Malik guess he was trying to go slow for him, resist the urge to strip him bare and do him hard as he always did. Mariku hadn't held himself back in a long time, and it was shocking to Malik when he did this time, moving himself away from the spot on his thigh where he'd been rubbing and instead going for Malik's collar with his mouth, kissing the bone, going down as far as his shirt would stretch and kissing his chest.
Malik moved his head away, not wanting to watch, but Mariku moved away from his chest, making it feel a little gross from the spit he'd left on it from his tongue, and he grabbed the sides of Malik's cheeks, moving him toward him until their noses touches. "Kiss me, Malik, and tell me you love me."
He listened, showing no resistance, and leaned forward to kiss Mariku. It was better to obey, it would be less painful to obey, and then, "I love you, Mariku."
"I'm so happy. Kiss me harder."
And he did, long and hard, bruise-ending just like Mariku had done him, and Mariku took back over, going into his mouth, and Malik danced with him. There was no pain, because this wasn't rape anymore. He was partaking, and it wasn't as bad as he thought. He should have done this in the past, just give up. It was still disgusting, still horrible and wrong, he was still uncomfortable and scared, always scared, but this wouldn't kill him.
He could...live with this, he supposed.
Mariku moved from his mouth, the hungry look back in his eyes, the one that devoured Malik when it stared him down, and then his clothes started being removed. He lifted his arms, allowing Mariku to take his shirt off and toss it behind him where it glided to the floor, forgotten already. Mariku attacked his bare chest, setting to work with his fingers, grazing them over the exposed flesh and rubbing, tickling, rubbing, tickling, pinching a nipple, drawing circles around it, tickling, moving down to his side where he was most sensitive on this part of his body and Malik let out a chocked gasp when Mariku's fingers ran over his abdomen. His stomach caved a little as he was touched, but it was bearable. He could deal with this, with Mariku just touching him. And then Mariku's mouth was on him again, sucking at his stomach, licking it, filling the area with as much of his tongue as he could, and Malik threw his head back, face gushing red at the warm and wet feeling on that spot. It was only his stomach, but he felt like Mariku was probing his entire body through it, that those tiny touches and licks he made were poisoning his entire being, and he choked a little, turning away, doing anything he could to distract himself from the saliva-covered organ molesting him.
He was getting scared again. He always did right before Mariku pulled down his pants, and he swallowed when he felt his zipper being tugged on and pulled down, the button coming undone soon afterward. Mariku pulled his pants down slowly, as if teasing him, but Malik didn't feel any pleasure. He never did this early into it, but he knew Mariku was eating it up. He didn't look, didn't want to see as Mariku pulled his underwear down and grabbed him, but he could tell that the other was enjoying himself way too much.
It was all about power. This was the power Mariku had over him. He could make him quake, make him bend to his will, and he was. Malik was broken and damaged beyond repair, used and filthy like a whore and a slut, but he jerked back a little when Mariku attempted to suck him off. He...God, he couldn't do it. He could never do it.
Mariku didn't verbally chastise him about the resistance. He always did this, he always backed out whenever things started to really take off, and Mariku only had to loop his arm around him, grab hold of his rear and pull him forward and into his mouth and all Malik's ghostly attempts were gone. Mariku always took great care during this part. He would go slow, bob up and down tentatively, as if testing whether he was doing it right or not, and when Malik would start to get hard, shiver and shake in the other's hold, then Mariku would go faster, clamp his lips as tight as he could, hum and pull him all the way to the back of his throat. His tongue poured out and covered it with hot saliva, coating it and making Malik moan at the euphoric feeling.
It was horrible, but he loved it at the same time. Mariku knew, he always knew just what to do to get him off, and even though they'd done it that morning, such a short time ago, he could feel the heat start to build up and creep into his stomach. It was just peeking, not quite there yet, but he was hard and Mariku practically had him all the way down his throat. How could he not choke with his mouth full like that? Malik didn't care at the moment, the feeling was tightening and he wanted more of it, of that tightening and stimulation, and he rocked his hips forward a little, and Mariku went down, his tongue still drawing around it, putting so much more feeling to it. They were creating a rhythm.
Malik was young, and didn't know how to control himself, but with this having happened so much, Mariku had taught him how to draw it out, how to make it where he could experience this for a longer time before climaxing, and Malik did it. It was hard, it was so hard not to just let go and cum all into that hot mouth around him, but he drew it out for as long as he could, because he LOVED IT. It was like no other feeling in the world, all the good feelings in the world building up in that one place, and it was overwhelming. He...he wanted to let go now, explode, and he did, all into Mariku's mouth, screaming as he did so, because it was release from the built up feelings, from everything, and it felt wonderful and he loved Mariku for giving it to him, giving those feelings to him.
His face flushed as he leaned back against the door, tired from everything, from so much feeling at once, but he knew Mariku wasn't done with him. This was about Mariku, and he was still hard, Malik could feel him against his leg again when he tugged onto his arm, moving him over to the bed. Malik went with him, sweating, breathing hard, preparing himself for what he knew was going to come, and he bit his lip, taking this, taking this punishment. It always hurt, but that pain was growing dull from having been issued so many times. It would be just like always, but then Mariku didn't crawl on top of him like he'd thought, didn't push him down like he always did. Instead, the older Egyptian pulled him close, wrapping his arm around his waist, pulling him tight, and kissed the top of his head.
"Do you love me?"
Malik nodded. "Yes."
"How much do you love me?"
He paused, biting his lip. This wasn't programmed, so he had to actually think of an answer this time. "I...I...Mariku, I love you. Does it matter how much?"
The expression on Mariku's face was so hard to read, and he couldn't figure out what it was for the life of him, but the other smiled afterward, relieving Malik a little. He didn't like it whenever Mariku frowned. It meant something wasn't to his liking and when he didn't like something, he was prone to anger and other negative emotions which were usually reaped onto Malik. "Touch me, Malik. If you love me, then touch me."
Malik froze in his hold, feeling his throat tighten. It was so hard to breathe, why couldn't he breathe? His face was hot, he was sweating from nerves, why was it so hot in here?! Why was he so scared?! Mariku's fingers grasped his and the other nabbed his chin, turning it to face him. He...he really loved him, he did, so he could do this. He could do it.
"Malik, you said you loved me. Show me. Don't just say it."
Why couldn't that have been enough? He'd finally said it, but Mariku just wanted more. He was so greedy. "O-okay."
A small smile. "Don't be scared. I love you, so you don't have to be afraid."
Malik felt his face gush with heat and he chewed his bottom lip. This was new to him. He'd never had to touch Mariku before, and he didn't know what to do. His hands shook as he reached out awkwardly, not knowing if he was doing it right or not, as he touched Mariku's shirt front and dragged his fingers through it. Was that right? He didn't know, and Mariku's face frustrated him. He looked so amused, not giving him any indication if he was touching him right or wrong, and Malik concentrated on his chest, not wanting to look into the eyes.
"You're doing fine, Malik. Don't be afraid."
Malik almost vomited when he forced himself to touch an erect nipple through Mariku's thin shirt. This repulsed him more than Mariku doing something to him, because now he was the one doing it, partaking in it, and it was so much harder than he thought. Even kissing him seemed easier than...touching him. But, Mariku moaned and threw his head back when he did that, and he guessed that was the right thing to do. His flicked his gaze down at Mariku's pants and swallowed the bile when he noticed the older one was still hard from before.
"Lower, Malik. Keep going."
He was very hesitant, and Mariku groaned a little when he didn't immediately obey, and he forced down his fear, trailing his fingers down, causing Mariku to shiver. Even though he was one doing the touching, Mariku was still initiating everything, he was still the one in control, and Malik had no power, no anything as he was forced to run his fingers over Mariku's abdomen. He slammed his eye shut, holding back sobs and screams and whatever else he felt as he unzipped and unbuttoned Mariku's pants. Was he really going to do this?
"Grab it, Malik. Come on. Love me." Mariku gripped his shoulder as if to encourage him.
Yes, he would do it. He grabbed Mariku's length in his hands and it was already hard, but he did what Mariku would do to him and pumped it. He wouldn't sink so low as to suck on it. He would do that, and he feared Mariku growing angry at him for not putting his mouth on it, and he nearly melted in relief when the other seemed satisfied with this and threw his head back again when Malik squeezed a little.
He did as he was told, just as Mariku instructed him. He would pump up and down, squeeze and pull, play with the head, and Mariku's precum began to trickle out, slithering down his hand and it was hot and he was scared.
Mariku was older, so he could draw this out a lot longer than Malik could. He had the experience, not like Malik, and Malik felt like he was sitting there forever, just going up and down that thing for so long, going faster and trying to create rhythm whenever Mariku began to buck forward a little.
He bit down his screams of terror, the horrible deep pit in his stomach as Mariku moaned and instructed him to go faster and harder, squeeze him harder and make it tighter. Malik was shaking, wanting to cry, this was so disgusting and horrible, black and tainted, but he listened and did as he was told.
Mariku came into his hand, the stuff warm and sticky and Malik let go immediately, horrified at the white, warm stuff that stuck to his hand. Mariku was trapped in the haze, his face soft and almost innocent-looking, and Malik stared at him as his lover enjoyed the overall feeling of pleasure and release. It ended too fast for Malik's liking, because after Mariku recovered from his orgasm so fast, he gripped Malik's shoulders and pushed him onto the bed. This was the rough part. He hadn't gone slow like that for Malik in a long time, but the slow part was over. It was time for Mariku to take him on the bed, making him writhe and moan for him again and again.
No words were exchanged, just Mariku's lips being pressed against his mouth again, as if thanking him for earlier, and then he moved down to him again, gripping him, pulling and pumping and doing everything Malik had done to him earlier until he was hard again. And then Mariku pumped himself, getting hard once more. This was the final part, it always was, and Mariku was never gentle when it came to this. He gave a final kiss to Malik's lips, whispering the haunting words, "I love you," once again before leaning away from him and gripping his hips to keep him steady before he slid in.
It hurt. It always did, but for some reason, it almost seemed like this time it hurt particularly hard, and Malik didn't know why. It had happened earlier that morning, but maybe it was because Mariku had gone slow this time, tried to show how much he loved him before doing it, that made it seem so much more twisted and horrible. He did scream, because it hurt, Mariku hurt, he was so bit and it was thick and he was tight, so he screamed when Mariku pulled that thing out of him, giving him no time to recover when it was shoved back in just as hard.
What was wrong with him? Why couldn't these horrible feelings just leave him? Why couldn't he just become a robot like Mariku wanted him to and love all the things he did? His brain still held onto fear, that this was all wrong, that there was nothing loving about the way Mariku gained speed, going in and out faster, reaching over to pump him to make it somewhat enjoyable. Why did this have to be Mariku's love? Why was love so painful? Even when there was nothing left for him to live for anymore, when there was no chance of escape, Malik felt so much more broken that night as Mariku shoved in and out, in and out, rock, rock back and forth, back and forth, back and-- And he hit it, that one spot that made everything better, that coupled with the pain and overtook it somewhat, made the pain forgotten when it was hit and Malik moaned, letting Mariku know he hit his sweet spot.
Mariku knew his body language, knew what every little moan and groan and scream meant, so he angled himself and hit that spot again, making Malik arch when it was rubbed against. Why? Why did it feel so good? It was so horrible, but GOD, it felt good.
He loved it, he really did, and he loved Mariku. He'd touched him, so that meant he loved him. In Mariku's world, this was love, so this was all Malik had to do in order to love him back, in order to live in the new world. He could end his own suffering, he just...he just...
Tears pooled out, and he didn't know why. He loved it, didn't he?! So why was he crying? It felt good, it really did, the way Mariku moved into him just right, the way he hit that wonderful spot over and over, the spot that made everything all better, the one that took the pain away, so...just why? He hated himself so much. He was horrible.
Mariku moaned above him, crying out, "I love you, Malik!" before climaxing into him, and then Malik came afterwards That was the first time Mariku had cum before him, but it didn't matter, and it was forgotten fast when Mariku pulled out and fell beside him, both breathing hard and spent, dirty and sticky and a little bloody.
So...that was love? This was all he had to do in order to love Mariku? Mariku's world was twisted, screwed up and crooked, and his love was gross darkness. Malik had to cope with it, though. There was no leaving, there was only suffering, and he would have to deal with this, or kill himself to get away.
"I love you, Malik." The whispers were as cold as the lips when Mariku sidled next to his ear, kissing it, whispering his proclamations of love, but Malik didn't care anymore. He was a robot now, a dog, something trained to do something.
"I love you, too."
"I know."
Warm covers spread over his cold and naked and abused body, but it was all routine. This was a part of everyday. Nothing separated this day from the rest just like it, and the ones to come. It would happen, again and again, and Malik was prepared for it. He would...live through it. He would take it and not complain. He would...he would learn.
Mariku wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close, kissing his cheek one last time, and both fell asleep, exhausted, spent, tired, and loved.
***
Exhaustion was all he could comprehend when he awoke the next time. It was almost unnatural. He...he shouldn't be awake. Mariku should've woken him up like he almost always did, and why was it still dark? It felt like he'd been sleeping forever, so had it only been a couple of hours?
The moonlight from outside streaked in through the window, resting on the floor and he almost screamed in shock when he saw Kisara standing in the midst of it all, right in the middle of the light that made her skin look translucent, almost ghostly. She bent down and held a finger to her lips, telling him to be silent and he obeyed, clamping his mouth shut. She didn't terrify him as much as she used to, but he hadn't really exchanged any words with her since he tried running all that time ago. He knew she was always in the house, but it was almost like she purposely avoided him.
The finger on her lips was removed and beckoned him to follow her. He turned to look over at Mariku whose face was relaxed in sleep, his mouth hanging open a little, almost like a child's, and he swallowed, moving as slow as possible, trying not to stir the bed and alarm Mariku. This must've been important if Kisara of all people wanted to see him.
His heart skipped a beat when Mariku moaned, shifted, but rolled over further away from him, and he jumped on the opportunity to worm his way out as subtly as possible and almost moaned in relief when he stood out of bed, reaching down to grab some clothes to hide what was left of his decency. Kisara took his hand when he was through and they tiptoed out of the room. Why did everyone in this house insist on holding his hand? He wasn't going anywhere.
The white-haired woman closed the door behind them and they tiptoed into the living room, getting as far away from the room as possible without creating any noise. Malik was confused when Kisara began to lead him to the front door. What would she do to him out there? He hadn't been allowed outside since his attempted escape, and he was almost afraid of going out there again, of relieving some horrible memories and having Mariku invoke his wrath on him once more. He feared that man's temper more than he realized.
The front door was unlocked and Kisara made to pull him out, but he planted his feet to the floor, giving her a frightened stare when she turned to look back at him. "Wh..." His voice shook, but he managed a whisper. "What are you doing?"
She shook her head, only tugging him forward, almost desperate to get him to cooperate and go with her. He didn't budge. He had learned his lesson the hard way the first time and he didn't feel like losing another eye over this anymore.
"N-no."
Her eyes pleaded with him and she looked hysteric, finally whispering, "Please, Malik, just come. I need to talk." She tugged particularly hard and he stumbled a little, freezing when he had to stomp his foot to keep from falling. Both of them froze at the noise, listening in case Mariku heard and decided to investigate. When nothing happened for awhile, Kisara tugged him some more and he finally gave in. There was just no point anymore. God, he was weak.
The cold night air was a slap in the face when they made their way onto the porch and down the steps, stepping onto gravel that crunched under Kisara's shoes and Malik's bare feet. The rocks hurt on his bare flesh, but he didn't complain about it. The pain was so small and insignificant compared to what he'd already been through.
He really did freeze when she began pulling him toward a car. "K-Kisara, what are you--"
She whirled around, shushing him by clamping her small hand onto his mouth. "Malik, I...I'm taking you back home."
And then the small glitter of hope, the smallest bit of light at the end of the tunnel. This was a dream, it had to be, he was still in bed with Mariku, still sleeping beside him and he was just dreaming. Such a cruel dream. "N...no...you...you don't mean it. I...I can't get away from him, Kisara." Tears again, the horrible feeling, the resistance he still felt against all of this, it had to creep up again, remind him of his situation. God, why couldn't it just die and leave him alone? He didn't want to face reality anymore.
Kisara's face looked so tired. She wasn't even that beautiful to Malik. She looked like she may have been once, but the beauty had worn and aged until she was all that was left. She almost looked as bad as Malik. Her eyes were dulled and dark, her skin sunken and thin, and her hair wiry. Mariku was killing them both.
"Malik, I can't get away from him, and neither can you, but I'm going to try. I'm going to help you. Running won't do you any good. I know I suggested it, but.." She bit her lips, tears falling out. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea he would take your eye if he caught you. It's my fault." And then he was tugged forward again, Kisara's thin frame, thinner than his, crushing against him as she hugged onto him, crying into his shirt. Now so close to her, he noted he was a little taller than her. "We're taking my car, and we're leaving. He won't be able to catch us. I'm staying by you until you're with your sister again."
Dreaming, he had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real, he couldn't--! He just sobbed when Kisara released him. It was too good to be true. She was lying, this had to be a trick. There was no escaping Mariku. He'd learned that lesson way too well, he'd lost an eye over it, and now she was randomly coming up to him in the middle of the night and giving him cruel hope like this? He hated her, he hated her so much, but he took her hand when she offered it, and climbed into the white Nissan with her, still sobbing into his hands. His eye hurt, he wanted to squeeze it to release the pain, but he didn't dare touch it.
Kisara didn't get angry at him for crying like a baby. She was crying too, and kept crying when she cranked the car up and backed up, pulling out of the driveway and taking the left fork in the road like he'd done earlier. The car zoomed down the dirt road, kicking up dust as she drove, and Malik stared out the window, at the trees that zipped by, making him a little motion sick. It'd been over a year since he'd been in a car, and the motion was making him nauseous, but he held it back.
Was it possible to be happy after everything that happened? If it was, then right now, he was surely happy for once. He could feel his mouth twitch into a smile, and he still cried. They were tears of joy now, and he loved Kisara for taking him away, for saying what she did, even if it was a lie, he loved it.
He sucked in air as they made it to the end of the road and drove around a curve. The road was a lot longer than he thought. It really would have taken him several hours if he'd run it the whole time. There wasn't a house in sight, just a long and winding road that curved and was incased in nothing but trees that seemed to reach for the sky.
Something was tossed into his lap and he jumped out of his reverie, shocked when he picked up the square object and noticed it was his phone. Looking over at Kisara, he could only stare, dumbfounded. She was smiling, eyes focused on the road. "Call your sister. Let her know you're coming home."
His hand shook. It was strange how his phone felt wrong being held in his hands. All of this felt wrong because he was finally returning to his normal life and escaping from the hellish one. He'd grown more used to this life than he realized, and he almost forgot how to operate his phone when he flipped it open, scrolling down his contacts list that had the fake Alice's number, and Isis's. He was...I was about to talk to my sister. I was finally going to get to speak to her after so long. Crying, still sobbing, I dialed her number. Sister, sister, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me for all of this. It's all my fault.
It rang, and then her tired voice, a little frantic, hysteric, and excited, finally answered. "H-h-hello? Malik? Malik, please God, please say it's you. Malik?"
"Isis?"
And then she cried and I cried, and she sobbed into the phone. "My God, Malik. Malik, Malik, Malik, a-are you okay? What happened? Where are you? Are you hurt? What's going on?"
Her questions became rambles and we were both still crying, but I managed to calm her down and get what I needed to say out. "I'm...I'm coming home, Isis. Don't worry. We'll...I have a friend taking me home right now. It's okay, sister. I'm...I'm going to be okay."
She was still sobbing. "Please tell me this isn't a dream, Malik. I've missed you so much. I'm s-sorry."
"It's my fault. I love you, Isis, and I'm coming back. Just wait for me, okay?"
"Please stay on the phone with me."
"I will."
And we cried into the phone together. I hugged it close, as close as possible, and heard every sniffle, every little sob and intake of breath she did. She told me over and over how much she loved me, and I her, and the dirt road in front of us stretched on forever. I didn't know how far away I was from home, and Kisara didn't say a word the whole time, but she cried a little as I did.
It felt like thirty minutes or so had passed and Isis was still on the phone with me, but now we had stopped talking, only crying to each other and sucking in air as we both tried calming down. She began fading a little, and I feared the signal would go out.
Rain began to pelt the windshield and Kisara was forced to turn the wipers on, flinging rain in every direction. Isis's sobs were garbled on the phone, the rain starting to drown out most of what she was trying to say, coupled with her sobs, and then I felt bile rise in my throat and my spine freeze when two lights came into view behind us.
Kisara noticed them, too, and turned to me. "Get down, Malik."
It couldn't have been...why...? Just why? There was no way, no possible way it could have been Mariku. Out of all the people in the world who were up at this hour, could he be here? I cried a little. "Isis, I have to go." Don't tell her, Malik, you don't want to scare her.
"N-no, stay on the phone with me, Malik!"
"I'm sorry. I love you, sis." I closed the phone, turning it off so she couldn't call back, and ducked down as far as I could go into the floorboard.
"Stay there," Kisara instructed, her eyes glued to the road in front of her. "And don't worry. I'll take care of you. I won't let him take you back, Malik. I said I would take you home, and I'm going to do it."
Despite her words, I was terrified, horribly scared and frozen in the floor, bunching up and trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.
"Don't be scared," I heard Kisara say.
But I was, and the lights got closer and closer, brighter and brighter, and I feared for my life.
I was about to die.
***
A little noise jarred me out of sleep and I moaned a little. God, I was sick of this house. It always creaked and groaned and did everything. I was half-afraid it would come falling down onto us one day. Maybe I should talk to Kisara about moving away. I think Malik would like that. He deserved a bigger house.
I had tried decorating this room to his liking, knowing how interested he was in his Egyptian origins, having never actually been there, so this was just a project I'd immersed myself in to make him feel a little more comfortable about coming here. I knew he would fight me back, hate me for lying, but I had to. He saw that now, though, and everything was okay. I hated having to take his eye whenever he ran, but it was necessary. It was his own fault for thinking he could run. Didn't he realize how much he hurt me by running from me? I loved him so much, and he loved me too, so why did he run like that?
I admit, I let my temper get the better of me and I regretted taking his eye with everything I had, but another part of me said he deserved it, it was his punishment, and I was okay with it. It was still a little sad, though. He looked less beautiful with that bloody and swollen part of his face, but it would heal over time and he would be pretty again. I didn't love him any less because of this, but I'll admit it having to stare at that bloody mess on his face was a little less than appealing. My poor Malik, he's been through so much. I would be sure to love him everyday, if just to show how much he meant to me, how much I loved him.
I rolled over to hug onto him, to pull him close and kiss on him a little, just to be sure he was okay, but...there was nothing there. Startled, I jumped in bed, feeling around like an idiot would in the dark, feeling for Malik. He usually never ever left bed, not even to go to the bathroom, so... I rose, pulling on some pants and a shirt, and ran down the hall. There was no light in the bathroom, but I opened the door anyway and looked, finding no one.
I was getting scared. Where was he? I ran into the living room, hoping he was just watching TV, but there was no one there either. And then I heard it, a car starting up, and I moved to the window, watching as Kisara's Nissan was backed up and pulled out of the driveway. Even from the house, I could see the heads of two people in the car, Kisara the driver and Malik the passenger. They pulled out and took the left fork, the one that led to the city. I fell to my knees, my eyes never leaving that spot where they disappeared around a curve and out of sight.
How could...Malik...how could he do this? I knew Kisara was taking him back. What was wrong with her? She loved me, too! Th-THEY BOTH LOVED ME, SO WHY WERE THEY DOING THIS?!
I gripped the windowsill, digging my nails into it and cried, gripping the sides as hard as I could, until I felt like my fingers were either going to break or crush the sill, and I just cried.
Malik was so horrible. He lied to me, he told me he loved me, but he was running away again! He never really loved me, he just led me on like this, from the beginning, he'd led me on, and I took it. He lied, he was such a liar. And I still loved him so much. Why couldn't he just accept me? He had, but...he let me love on him today and he loved me back, so was that just a lie, too?!
I growled, my tears blinding me, and snatched my keys off of a shelf, slamming the front door open and rushing toward my own car that was parked off to the side of the house. I crawled in, still crying, and slammed the keys into the ignition, pulling out and going down the left fork.
Malik, Malik...Malik, Malik...I love you so much, so why are you doing this to me? You can't leave me, you can't, so why do you keep trying?! You're a liar, you're so stupid, thinking somebody like Kisara will save you. She can't help you, nobody can. You only have me, and I'm taking you once and for all. I will catch you, and you'll be so sorry, you'll love me forever then, I'll make you see it then. Just wait for me, I'm coming for you.
The trees zoomed by, but my only focus was the road in front of me and I flew, sliding a little on the dirt road when I rounded corners. I had to catch up with them, and my tears were still blinding me, making it all the more difficult. I swore at myself and wiped them away, only to have double the amount replace it.
And then two little red lights appeared in front of me and I caught them. I drove faster, and faster, and FASTER! My foot was dug onto the gas, pushing the car until the motor was so loud, it drowned out everything else, and the little dots got closer and closer and I WAS ALMOST TO MALIK! I-I WOULD SHOW HIM JUST HOW MUCH I LOVED HIM!
Rain had obstructed my view all the more, even with the wipers going, and I was going too fast. If I wasn't careful, I could slid and kill myself, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was getting close to Malik and soon the small white car was right in front of me and I could see Kisara's silhouette, but not Malik's. I gripped the steering wheel until I felt like it would break under my grip. Hiding, how stupid he was, thinking he could hide. There was no getting away.
I punched the gas again and sidled up next to the car, spotting Kisara's frightened face through the window, and then I rammed into her, hard. She was given no chance to save herself on the slippery dirt road and it only took one push to toss her into the ditch where she slid in the mud, making the car screech as she tried slamming on the brakes. She finally stopped and I drove a little ways in front of her, going backwards and turning around until my headlights had them in full view, and I reached over before stepping out, grabbing something from my dash that I would definitely need.
Kisara was a child with their hand stuck in the cookie jar. She stepped out, feigning ignorance, but I knew my Kisara, I knew when she was lying before she even said anything, and I had to refrain from doing something horrible when she spoke. "What are you doing?"
The rain was cold as it pelted my back, but I kept going closer, walking passed her and to the passenger side.
"Mariku, don't!"
I swore when the handle refused to let me open the door and I slammed my hand through the window, shattering it, hearing a scream below, and I reached down, nabbing Malik by the back of his shirt and pulling him out through the window. He shook in my hold, the one eye staring at me and I slapped him. "WHY, MALIK?! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!"
Kisara was by his side, trying to yank my arm off of him as I shook him by his collar, and I shoved her away. "Mariku, stop it! You're hurting him! Just stop doing this!"
Even Kisara couldn't see just how much I loved him. She...she was the same. She didn't love me, and her words angered me. I took the hand that wasn't gripping Malik's shirt and pointed the thing that would help me at her, receiving a satisfying fearful look from her when I pulled the trigger. It served her right.
The shot was loud, and deafening, and Malik screamed when Kisara fell to the ground, her blood pooling out of a hole in her head, the rain above already washing it away into the ditch. The fear in her eyes was glued, and they were dark.
"M-Mariku, just stop it!" Malik was screaming again, thrashing around in my hold, trying to loosen my grip, but I just shook him and reached up with my other hand, hitting him as hard as I could with the butt of the gun.
"YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVED ME, MALIK! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?! I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, AND YOU AREN'T GETTING AWAY!"
He still resisted, he still fought back, he still begged and pleaded for me to let him go, and he was crying when I lifted the gun up, pointing it right at him.
"Tell me you love me."
His struggling ceased, and he didn't move. "No."
I cocked it, pointing it right at his head. "Tell me you love me, Malik."
Light in his eyes, resistance. "I said no."
I shoved him to the ground, and he scrambled, but I gave him no time as I pulled the trigger and he screamed, blood squirting out and some of it flying onto my face, and Malik fell down beside Kisara, no longer moving.
There was one more bullet left, and I lifted the gun up, looking at it, at Malik's killer. He deserved it. He didn't love me. He was nothing but a liar, but I still loved him, and if I couldn't have him, then he still wasn't getting away. I'd keep him here forever.
I lifted the gun to my head and pulled the trigger.
I love you, Malik, you filthy liar. I'll always love you, and now you can never get away.