Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Can't You Hear Me? ❯ Chapter 4: Pretty Pony ( Chapter 4 )

Nightmare

Drof: …It's early……TOO early…

Karasu: I agree….

Drof: Of course YOU would!

Deathlady: What time is it anyway?

Drof: Four-oh-one a.m. Why?

Karasu: …That is entirely too early to be awake….

BHS: I didn't think this time existed…

Deathlady: Well, it DOES!

BHS: …Could we start the fic now?

Drof: Okay then.

Disclaimer: Ford owns nothing which she has no ownership of, nor can possible threaten, exhort, coerce, or otherwise convince anyone into giving her.

Warnings: Child-abuse mentioned, incest mentioned…You get the point…Um, sexual implications.

***

Chapter 4: Nightmare

"So, how was it?" the man asked. He was a curious man, BHS reflected, and a bit frightening. He was very tall, with pale skin and indigo-colored hair. His eyes were a darker shade of his hair, as were the large bat wings he had. His hat, a battered thing with no top at all and no brim around the sides, was also that color. He scurried up to her, head bowed, peeking up at her with curious eyes. BHS meant to ask this curious man who exactly he was, but instead she found herself saying something much different.

"What business is it of yours?" she found herself asking in a voice far removed from her own. It was, she realized, The Voice she sounded like. This time, The Voice sounded slightly amused, but still cold and distant. The man cringed, and bowed low, until the tips of his long, pointed ears were close to brushing the floor.

"I apologize, my lord," he said. "I should not have asked. May I ask if the man gave you his name?" he asked, cringing as if he expected to be hit.

"You may, and he did. Stop cringing like that, I'm not going to hit you," she heard herself say. "I don't mistreat my servants."

"Sorry," the man said. She sighed.

"Kuronue, stop apologizing."

"Yes, Master. Sorry, Master," Kuronue said. She sighed again.

"His name is Haretenki," she told him.

"Pardon?"

"That man," she repeated. "His name is Haretenki."

"An odd name…" the man said.

"Indeed."

***

It meant something, that name. Haretenki. BHS found herself wandering down a stone corridor, herself again. She'd tested this by speaking, and she'd heard her own voice. So, she knew she was herself. She looked around, dwarfed by the sheer size of the place. It seemed like it was a castle built for giants. Some of the stones she saw in the walls were at least as big as she was, probably larger. Looking at the ceiling, she judged that it would give someone fourteen feet in height at least three feet of clearance above their head.

She stopped, staring, fascinated, at a large, rust-red streak on the wall, that didn't look very old. She saw that the stain seemed to have dripped down to the floor, and she wondered what it was.

"That's blood," a voice from behind her said quietly. She turned, frightened, and saw a young girl of about five, looking at her (looking down at her) with icy violet eyes. Those eyes held a sparkle of humor, and she seemed friendly enough. Her skin was very pale, and she had black hair that was in a single braid down her back. Her clothing was simple, a black shirt that looked far too large for her, which went almost to her ankles. BHS couldn't tell if she was wearing anything under it, and she somehow doubted it.

Her voice was sweet, and innocent, high and clear, little girlish in every way, except of course for her words.

"Whose blood?" BHS couldn't help asking. The girl clasped her hands behind her, looking at BHS through those wide purple eyes.

"My brother's," she said, in that same, sweet little-girl tone. "Father got drunk last night and hurt him."

"My God…" BHS said softly, looking at the blood-stain again. "Is he okay?"

"What a stupid question!" the little girl laughed. Her gaze quickly became serious, and she said, "Not right now, of course. I'm not so sure he'll get better…He got hurt pretty bad."

"I hope he does," BHS said, wondering who the girl's brother was. She was about to ask, when suddenly everything went black.

***

"Who are you?" the boy asked. No, boy really wasn't the right word. He was a young man, a teen, tall and pale-skinned, with long black hair held up in a high pony-tail. She could see, to her surprise, that his ears were longer than usual, and curved upwards into graceful points. Jetty crows' wings jutted from his shoulder blades, the right hanging at an odd angle, probably broken. His face was bruised, and he looked like he'd just been dragged through a bush.

He looked at her suspiciously, with narrow, pain-filled violet eyes.

"Well, are you going to answer?" he demanded. "Who are you? And what the hell are you doing here?"

"You think I know?" BHS asked back. His rudeness was starting to irritate her.

"What kind of idiot would come here without a reason? I didn't know it was such a tourist attraction." His tone was bitter as he continued. "I didn't think people would actually want to come here. Most people take great pains to stay away."

"Well, I'm here," BHS said. "Where is here, anyway?"

"You don't know?!" he gaped at her. "Welcome," he said, with a mock bow, "to the Kastle."

"Castle?" BHS asked, confused. "What castle?"

"Not `castle'," he said. "'Kastle', with a capital `K'."

"O…kay, then…" BHS said. She was about to say more, when a sudden, panicky expression crossed his face. He grabbed her, his long, thin fingers wrapping around her wrist in a strangely strong grip. He looked around, and then pressed his hand against the small of her back, and pushed her into a doorway.

"Don't come out until I say!" he hissed at her, before slamming the door in her face. She stood in the room, fuming, wanting to yell at him, and wondering what his problem was. Just as she was about to ask (loudly) what his malfunction was, she heard heavy footsteps, and a sudden feeling of terror closed her throat. It was a few seconds before she could breathe again. She rethought calling out, not wanting to draw the attention of whoever was emanating that aura of menace. Instead, she stood behind the door, quivering.

"Who were you talking to?" the voice was low, gruff and mean, and at the same time, strangely soft and almost kind.

"N-no one," the boy she'd been speaking to said, his voice fearful.

"Don't lie to me." The man's voice grew more threatening, gruffer.

"I'm not!" the boy said. There was the sound a fist makes when it hits someone in the stomach, and then the thump of a body against the door. BHS barely managed to keep from gasping at that.

"Father…" the boy said in a breathless wheeze, "I swear, no one was here!"

In the hallway, the scene unfolding was a strange one. The boy was on his knees by the door, looking up at a tall, brawny man, with the same pale skin and purple eyes the boy had. He, too, had black hair, although his was short, right up against the base of his skull. He was a very tall man, with broad, powerful shoulders that many a man would envy. He was quite attractive, or would have been, except for the look of cruelty in his eyes, and the obvious pleasure he took in the boy's pain.

He stepped forwards, covering the distance between himself and the boy in one step. He reached down, and closed his hand around the boy's throat, lifting him effortlessly, until his feet dangled a full two feet off the ground. The boy gasped for breath, prying uselessly at his father's hand. The man loosened his grip, not wanting to choke the boy.

He stepped forwards again, moving closer until his face was a scant inch away from the boy's. The boy found himself unable to move, trapped between his father and the stone door.

"I know you're lying, boy," the man growled. He shook the boy slightly for emphasis. "And you know how much I hate being lied to."

"Yes…" the boy gasped, still clutching at his father's hand around his neck.

"You know what happens to people who lie to me…" the man said, grinning cruelly. The boy's eyes widened, and he started shaking.

"Father…" he begged. "Please…don't…"

"You shouldn't lie to me," his father admonished. "Then I wouldn't have to punish you."

"Please…" he whimpered.

"Maybe if you stop lying, I won't," the man said. "You have one more chance. Who were you talking to?"

"What does it matter?" the boy asked bitterly. "If you don't hurt me now, you'll just get drunk later and hurt me then."

"So impudent," the man said. "You know, I could do much worse. I could, for instance, let Kirinkuto play with you." The boy's eyes widened at that, and he whimpered again.

"Don't…" he begged.

"Or Rikunin," the man added. "He hasn't done anything to you in quite a while, and I'm sure he'd just love to bloody his knives on you." The boy's eyes widened even more.

"Then stop lying," the man said.

"I'm not lying! No one was here! I swear," the boy said desperately.

"Then you were just talking to yourself?" the man asked. The boy nodded.

"Odd…I didn't think you were the sort to talk to yourself," the man said. "And I didn't know you could sound so much like a young girl." The boy said nothing, merely looked at his father pleadingly. His father looked back, and for a moment, his expression softened, and the boy allowed himself to relax slightly. Then his father's eyes hardened again, and he grinned cruelly.

"You just used up your last chance boy." The boy's eyes, which he'd closed, snapped open at that. "You know what I do when you keep lying to me…"

"Please, Father, no…" the boy whimpered. "Please, don't. I'm sorry…Please!"

"Whining's not going to do anything for you," the man said. "You lied to me, and now you have to be punished for it."

"I fail to see how raping me is going to keep me from lying to you," the boy said. The man glared at him.

"That mouth of yours causes you nothing but trouble, you know," he said. "You should learn when to keep it shut. Now," he said, letting go of the boy, who fell to the ground with a thump, "about the issue of your punishment…"

The boy looked up at him bitterly. "I already know what you're going to do to me," he said, his voice as bitter as his look.

"You still have a chance, you know," the man said. "Tell me the truth."

"You'll still rape me." It wasn't a question. The man nodded.

"However," he said, "if you choose to own up…I'll be gentle with you."

Back on the other side of the door, BHS had heard all she could stand. She didn't know who this boy was, but as far as she knew, he hadn't done anything to deserve what was about to happen to him.

"Leave him alone!" she yelled, throwing the door open, to a rather disturbing scene. The man had the boy down on his knees, and was kissing him *quite…passionately* running his hands over the boy's chest. Both the man and the boy looked at her, eyes wide.

"You are an idiot!" the boy yelled.

"And you're not?" BHS yelled back. The man walked over to her, his cruel violet eyes intently examining her.

"What do we have here?" he asked. "A little human wench, it would seem." He turned to the boy, chuckling. "Well, I certainly wouldn't have expected any more from you."

"What do you mean?" the boy asked.

"Weak blood," the man said. "Just like her."

"Like who?"

"Your human-tainted whore of a mother" the man replied. The boy's eyes flashed at that, and he jumped to his feet.

"Shut up!" he yelled. "She was not a whore!"

"What do you know?" the boy's father asked. "You barely even knew that half-breed bitch!"

"Methinks you two should both shut up," BHS suggested. Both gazes snapped towards her, one shocked, the other rather angry. *Three guesses who was who.*

"What…did you just say?" the man asked, in a soft, dangerous voice.

"I said you should both shut up!" BHS repeated, feeling a lot less confident and more like an idiot who was soon to be dead with each passing second.

"Do you know what happened to the last human bitch who tried to order me around?" the man asked. He jerked his thumb towards the boy. "The flippant brat knows," he said. "Go on. Tell her what I did."

"You killed her…" the boy said, his voice trembling. The man grinned.

"Go on," he said. "Tell her who it was. Who the insolent human bitch I killed was."

"My…my mother…" the boy said. "It was my mother. You killed my mother."

BHS stared at the man, shocked. She wondered what kind of beast could kill his wife, and then force his son to talk about it.

"Now, you're certainly a bold wench," the man said. He leered at her. "I might have some use for you right. Kirinkuto would enjoy you too. He likes them young."

"You are a sick bastard," BHS said calmly. The man glared at her, and without a word, punched her in the face. She felt something crack, and felt warm wetness pouring down her face, and only dimly realized through the haze of pain that her nose was broken. Her head jerked to the side when he hit her, and her glasses came off, skittering across the floor to slam against the wall with an ominous crunch.

"I'll teach you to be so insolent!" he said. "I taught the brat, though he never seems to learn…" He leered at his son, his gaze lingering on the boy's bare chest. *Did I mention he wasn't wearing a shirt? Oops, I think I forgot…^_^0.* "And I never tire of teaching him…"

"You are definitely a sick bastard," BHS said. Just as the man was about to hit her again, everything went dark again.

***

She bolted upright, panting, bathed in sweat. She brushed her hair back from her face, and let it fall back.

"It was just a dream," she assured herself. Suddenly, she heard The Voice in her thoughts.

<How did you manage to access my memories?> The Voice cried. <How can you do that? How can you overcome my mental barriers, pass through them as if they're nothing? How? What are you?>

"I-I'm not anything!" BHS cried, frightened. "I'm just a sixth-grade girl! That's all! I'm nothing else! I'm just…I'm just me!!!" She was nearly in hysterics, both from the terrifying dream, and the intensity in The Voice's….voice. *Stupid, I know.* "Why are you angry?" she whimpered, taking a tone of voice that reminded her strongly of the boy.

<Because,> The Voice said, <you, a mere human, have managed to do what the most powerful psychics could not even begin to do!>

***

Drof: Didn't see that one coming….

BHS: 8.8 Ford, why are you mad at me?

Ford: DIDN'T I JUST TELL YOU?!!!!!!!!!

Karasu: ….We've been up all night…

BHS: ¬.¬ This is new to you how?

Karasu: …I like to sleep when I can.

BHS: …He's surprisingly lazy….

Karasu: I am not….

BHS: You say you're not old, too.

Karasu: I'm not old!!!

BHS: ….You're over a thousand!! You're old-DID A SPIDER JUST DROP ONTO MY FOOT?!!!!!!!! No…Okay then…Karasu…YOU'RE OLD!!!

Karasu: I am not old!!

Ford: He's not.

Karasu: Thank you.

BHS: She's only saying that because she's even older than YOU!

Ford: …I'M NOT OLD!!!!

BHS: …And I'm not short…And Botan's not cheerful…And Yusuke's not a punk…And Karasu's not tall…And Toguro's not a jerk…And Haretenki's not a sadistic bastard…And-

Karasu: WE GET THE POINT ALREADY!!!!!!!!

BHS: …I was gonna say `And…we get the point already'.

Karasu: You know I hate you, right?

BHS: ^_________^ I know you love me!!

Karasu: When Hell freezes over.

BHS: It has. Twice.

Karasu: I know.

BHS: O_O OH…MY….DEAR….KAME….SAMA….LORD….ABOVE 230;.Karasu, did you just inadvertently admit that you love me?

Karasu: Erm…*attempts to explain. Stops.* Yes…

BHS: O_O o_o O_o o_O -_O o_- O_- -_o ~_O o_~

Deathlady: >_< >_< >_< NO MORE FACES!!!!

BHS: ^_____^0 Okay then! ^_^

Karasu: -_-0

Ford: ¬.¬ Idiots.

BHS: HI!!!!!! ^_^

Karasu: -_-000

Deathlady: I SAID NO MORE FACES!!! >_< ….*glares at Drof.* You're doing this to spite me, aren't you?

BHS: She has spote you.

Karasu: ….?

BHS: If the past tense of `smite' is `smote', then the past tense of `spite' is `spote', right?

Karasu: -_-0 ¬.¬00