Kadaj

[chlorhexidine]

1.
“Not tonight, please,” Kadaj's voice begged, urgently, half way between a shout and a cry.
A hand gripped Kadaj's wrist, and the distinctive high-pitched sibilance of Orochimaru answered, “If you'd co-operate, this would be much easier, Kadaj.”
There was a flush of anger, and hatred, and Kadaj lashed out, succeeding in striking Orochimaru across the face as he made a move to get away. It happened quickly, then, as Kadaj was yanked around and off his feet, his arm twisting and shoulder giving a sickening pop before horrendous pain blossomed through, though Orochimaru paid it no attention. Kadaj was shoved face down into the hotel bed, knees forced to buckle under him, and he cried out in a mixture of anger and pain.
“If you don't co-operate, of course, it only becomes difficult for yourself. You need to learn these things Kadaj.”
There was pressure, and weight pushing down from behind; Orochimaru seemed huge and imposing, and suddenly so much worse, and his breath was hot and wet against Kadaj's ear as he hissed into it, “I'm doing you a kindness, boy. This clan won't coddle you forever.” His arm was twisted again, and Kadaj cried out, tears welling in his eyes as his clothes were stripped from him.
“Please,” Kadaj begged again, like a frightened child more than an angry teenager, “you're hurting--” He was cut short when he was lifted back by his hair, yelping in pain again, and something warm and undulating slithered into his mouth. Kadaj choked, fighting back the gag reflex with difficulty as it forced its way down his throat.
“You make far too much noise,” Orochimaru said.
Tears came as Kadaj squeezed his eyes shut against the nauseating sensation of a tongue worming its way down his throat, and the worse, invasive disgust at what felt like fingers, slick with something, pressing inside him. He tried to squirm again, do something, anything that would get Orochimaru to stop.
“Relax,” was the only answer, an imperious command, “or this will hurt much more than it needs to.”
There was no other warning.

2.

He was woken by the noise. Like someone was trying to break their way in to the house. Panic rushed through Kadaj and he leapt off the sofa, grabbing his knife as he did. The woman ran in, gripped with fear, as the front door pounded again, and a voice on the other side screamed, “Open up, Maya!”
The woman, Maya, wearing little more than a dressing gown and underwear, turned to Kadaj, looking desperate. “Take Lou out back, please, I don't want her to see this.”
Kadaj was torn for a moment, looking from the door, to Maya, and then a young girl's voice came through, “Mama?”
“Go!” Maya told him, urgently, “Please, Kadaj! Take her to Judee!”
The banging on the door didn't cease, and Kadaj growled, before he turned, taking the hand of an eight year old girl, Lou, and saying, “Come on.”
He dragged her out of the house, knife still in his hand, and the girl complied, until Kadaj brought them both to a stop, a couple of doors down.
“Kadaj? What's happening to mama?”
Kadaj looked down at her. Indecision became resolve and he told the girl, “Go to Judee's, don't come back until someone comes for you.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back for your mom.”
And he did, running back in moments. He heard the screams first, the sound of something hard on flesh, and the exclamations of pain. He ran in through the door, barely taking a moment to assess the situation before he flung himself, knife out, at the man, swinging off his back and driving the knife through his throat.
Maya screamed again, screamed his name, and there was blood, so much blood, his hands, and the knife, and Maya, and the room became covered in it. He stood back with his hands shaking as the man fell to the floor.
It was so easy.
Killing was so easy.

3.
“Kad uid kad uid kad uid!” The phrase repeated over and over, as Kadaj remained frozen to the spot, fear and confusion wracking him into tremors.
“Mother,” he said, his voice high, and young.
“Kad uid!” She screamed. “E tuh'd fyhd du caa ouin vyla, oui nuddah meddma pnyd!”
“Mother!” Kadaj cried, his voice cracked to the edge of tears. He cowered, frozen to the spot, unable to understand a word of what she was screaming. It was rapid Al Bhed, screamed at top note, by a hysterical woman, advancing on a child of no more than twelve.
He tried to shield himself from the first blow, a smack from a hand that seemed too large, and caught him round the face, sending him reeling to the floor. “Mom! Stop!” He cried, for all the difference it made. He saw her slip her shoe off before she belted him with it, hard leather, and a stone lodged in the sole somewhere, struck his arm, and cut the skin. “Mommy!”
“Cdub clnaysehk!” She screamed at him, and rained down hits in a frenzy, until there was nowhere that didn't hurt. She battered his arms and legs, and ribs, and back. The shoe caught his face, and cut his cheek.
Kadaj cried, helplessly, waiting for it to be over. It was such a furious attack, it seemed to last forever, until finally, exhausted, his mother dropped the shoe, and fell to her knees. Kadaj just continued to cry, curled up on the floor.
“Oh,” she said, “oh, Kadaj,” and leaned forward on her hands and knees, reaching out one hand to gently take Kadaj's arm and draw him towards her. Kadaj sobbed and sniffled, crying so hard he couldn't see, and yet fighting it down to try and stay quiet and avoid another battering at the same time. She pulled him into her arms, holding him gently, as if she was scared of hurting him further. “E's cu cunno. E's cu cunno so pypo. So cemjan ryenat pypo. Vunkeja sa. Vunkeja sa. E's cu cunno. E tuh'd ghuf ruf du cdub. Syopa E cruimt ryja mad res dyga oui yfyo. Syopa oui't ryja ryt y paddan meva fedruid sa.” She babbled away in Al Bhed, rocking Kadaj as he clung to her clothes, until he finally calmed down and stopped sobbing. “I love you, Kadaj,” she said. “Go and wash the blood off while I make dinner.”
Kadaj nodded, pathetically, but did as he was told, going upstairs and tending to his own wounds with a potion from the medicine cabinet. He acted like someone used to injuries, wincing as he cleaned the cuts, but nothing more than that.
When he went back downstairs the house was curiously empty. Quietly, he made his way into the kitchen. “Mother?” He asked, but she wasn't there. Nor was she in any other room downstairs. He went up, into the bedrooms, knocking timidly on his mother's bedroom door and calling for her softly.
She wasn't in there, either, but some clothes were strewn around, as if someone had packed a small bag in a great hurry.
“Mom?” Kadaj asked, louder, and more urgent. Fear was sweeping through him, a different, and worse fear than before when she'd been screaming. He ran downstairs again, through the house, and out the front door, looking desperately up and down the street for her.
“Mother!” He screamed, as loud as he could, before it hit him that she'd gone. He broke down in the street, and cried, harder than before.

Comments

[chlorhexidine]

Captain Prittidork /licks him

/withholds full version

[alien_laughter]

/squirrrrrrms, sobs, paws at full version ;;;

... /licks him a bit too