Geknickht
Author: Nenaku
Genre: Original, of the world Totall_Anarchy – Inspired by Evanescence’s ‘My Immortal’.
Pairing: ____ / Seung, Ryu + Seung
Rating: R.
- Warnings: Yaoi, slavery, implied rape, implied violence, language, a very unstable German and Korean.
Date: April 6th, 2003
When I was a child, I recall my fears of being alone and never having anyone to turn to. No place for me to run to, no shelter from the elements, and no confidant to share unforgettable moments with. That night, the first of my life that I can remember, I woke and hadn’t known what was going on or whom I was. It was the beginning of the fears that would be the base of my existence.
I’m drained because of those fears that had corrupted me as a child, and still do. But there was such a short time that none of that mattered to me. It feels like such a long time ago, and yet just like yesterday. I was innocent back then, wasn’t I? You always told me that. I was fond of how you called me your ‘Todesengel’… Angel of Death…
“Todesengel… Mein schön Todesengel… (“Angel of Death… My beautiful Angel of Death…”)” I can still hear you whisper those words to me, and it almost made me wish for you to make love to me… almost. It had become savage after that; the pain of your grip and agony of invasion into my body, using me for your pleasure as those words continued to leave your lips and were drowned out by my cries. You knew how sensitive I was, didn’t you? Yes, there was your pleasure hidden in my pain… so much pain.
Gods, why can’t you leave me alone? I can still see you there behind my closed eyelids, such fair masculinity, and I can feel your callus fingers exploring my naked skin; left to your mercy. You still exist within me… That feeling never leaves me, but I continue to ignore it, to cope with the rest of my life now. Endless time could never remove the three years of memories that we had created and shared together in the glum streets of Berlin.
Do you even remember how I would hold you and wipe away your tears? Oh, how you would beat me within an inch of life because I hadn’t listened, I had disobeyed you. Your yelling was deafening, but more so was the blood pounding through my veins and my screams of anguish from the lashes of the whip, or the blow of a kick and punch against my frail form. And when you would finally stop, the tears began and your yells turned to cries in fear of having killed me. The amount of blood staining the floor was convincing, wasn’t it?
“Shh… N-No, I am okay,” I would cradle you in my arms delicately each time and reassure you, “Master, do not cry,” And you would reluctantly smile through your tears at my effort of speaking the common language fluently.
“You are too good to me, Todesengel,” As if it would make me forget what had happened, you would kiss me… I would never forget, but I would forgive you every goddamned time. I would tell myself that you were not bad, that you were meant to be forgave; but I had known all along and chose to lie just to keep you from inflicting more pain if I didn’t say what you wanted me to.
I was so naïve and childlike at the age of thirteen when you bought me, and immediately began to ‘break me’. For three years you enchanted me, from your handsome looks to the unsteady balance of your reason. It was a cycle of love and hate, joy and pain, when I was under your control… pressed beneath your thumb to do as you willed me to. But now I am bound to you and the life that you threw away without a thought of anything but yourself.
Egotistical bastard, how I loathe you and your fucking existence now! For three years I allowed you to beat me, rape me, and tell me again and again that I would never be loved. In this entire world I would have never thought that your sadistic game would turn out as it had, but it was only a game, right? No hard feelings on my part, or else I would be the poor sport pawn that you played, no?
It was almost my sixteenth birthday when the game ended. I remember heading to your office with a drink in hopes of pleasing you with such a casual gesture. Of course, I had waited just outside your door when I had heard you speaking to one of your men. I was so obedient, and who else to thank, but you?
"Sold, Herr?” I hated your men; they were so ignorant and dirty… and their eyes shone with a deep sense of pity for me each time I walked by.
“Ja, today I want him taken away and sold in the market.”
“You have tired of him, Herr Koen? I thought—”
“He was a sweet boy when I purchased him, that is true, and you know how I like them fresh,” You both laughed amusedly as he agreed with you and still I remained on the other side of the door. The light sounds ceased and died away quickly, “But I have broken him. I want him gone by this afternoon.”
Of course, you were talking about me. I can still remember the cold liquid of your drink spraying over my bare feet and ankles as I dropped the glass and it shattered over the floor. Broken? I had already run down the hall by the time you had opened the door; I could no longer look into the face that would haunt my dreams thereafter. And with your words still echoing, I felt what sanity I had managed to grasp and keep over the years, be drowned and overcome by the anger that I had concealed for so long.
When your men came for me, I was ready, and what belongings I was allowed to take I had packed with me. You were there, standing indifferently as I was escorted out of the building. But you called me aside, for what reason I don’t know and I didn’t care.
“Seung—” I really didn’t care. It probably would have been along the lines of: “Seung, you were a good fuck, but all thrills must come to an end.”
“Fuck you!” It was the first time I had cussed, amazingly. Still it makes me laugh when I remember, crystal clear, how shocked you were. Large, lively emerald eyes staring at me in disbelief; but I wasn’t done yet. “Fuck you and your mentality, or lack there of! Fuck you, Andreas Koen, for killing me.”
That was the end. Yes, I was the one to walk away, but you were the one that had never been there. I had gone through those three years believing that you were there with me the whole time… but I never had anyone during that time. You were gone, but in a sense, you had always been with me. Haunting me with each breath. You had taught me that there was nothing in life worth living for. Everything that I had thought you were… the image had been shattered along with what was left of my sanity.
Luckily, my turmoil at that time had been forgotten and I no longer needed to suffocate myself with the reasons for your actions. I was ‘free’ once I stepped out into the market that gloomy afternoon. No longer did I have to be victim to your raging emotions and the crack of your whips, or captive of your shackles and ropes. I was no longer your toy; and I had, in reality, not been broken. I would share that with the world, undoubtedly.
That’s what turned that innocent little, sad-eyed angel into the intense, passionate lunatic that presides now. What had happened between you and I, I never wanted to happen again. Whatever love is, I never felt it and I would rather live without the pain that accompanies such emotion. It’s bullshit.
The ironic thing that puzzles me now, is that the bullshit has found a way through that very thin line of sanity I have left. It’s been two years since the day I had entered the market and left it again under the rule of a rather charismatic American cowboy by the name of Gerik Rangle. A year spent with a man that hasn’t used me or forced me into his bed; a man who knows very little about that angel I hold captive inside. He’s a man I admire and am glad to call a friend, a true friend.
And two full years have brought me to where I am now. The hidden base of the Silver Dragon Syndicate, where two thousand men sleep, eat, and train under the rule of their commanding officer; a Vietnamese man, with the unnatural hair color of platinum blond. Accordingly, he’s named after the creature so boldly tattooed upon his skin. A dragon.
I could sit here on this hover-bike in the hangar for hours and simply watch him walk along through the base going about his business… and he wouldn’t so much as look at me. I suppose when you have most of the hormone-crazed men in your organization fantasizing about how delicious you’d look in bondage, you’re a busy man. There isn’t really a reason to compete in hopes of something like a stable relationship, as he isn’t that kind of man… I seriously begin to doubt his capabilities of emotional expression. Then again, who am I to talk?
Why would it be in my best interest to chase his uptight-self around if I’m going to be ignored or hated naturally? Sure, we had a pretty fun time last night during the party, torturing and humiliating each other; but it had started the same way with you, Herr Koen, hadn’t it? Where had that gotten me?
It seems I am destined to feed from the bottom of the pool and thrive with only what I need to keep going. I do not fear death, but I do not embrace life. I take what pleasure is given to me and with those pleasures are always the pains… And I’ve come to hate the pain more than life itself.
I tire of watching him, oblivious of my existence as he worries about his missions and personnel accompanying him here and there. I don’t want to regard this thing described as love, just as I don’t want to affirm the sorrow and ache of hurt I feel inside because of it. No, I am Korea! I don’t need any of that. All I need is my music and my mischief to keep all of them at bay, to shelter and harbor me from the troubles of the world.
Why should I sit here then? It’s high time I find the liquor and get drunk to forget you and him— the whole world, and visualize the stars everlasting in a spiral of the Milky Way. I will not succumb to the pressure of the affairs of others, and the hand of another man shall not tame me without a fight, and never shall it break me before I die.
