Note: (1) This story is originally written in Thai, translated on friends' request. So please excuse me if the language isn't as flowing. ^^;;
(2) Because this is just translation of my old (if not English) already ended fic, the story only based on Melone base arc.
"Do you hate me that much?"
A voice, smooth like velvet, whispered in the darkness. So melodic and gentle as if soothing even if, in fact, it was nothing more than words of poison. The only audience's thin hands tightened, nails digging into his own skin as intense stench of blood filled the air – as sweet as it was nauseating. The world had become red…just like the blood dribbling down from his now hollow eyed…
As red as the color of that eye that had been brutally gouged out
That disgusting dulcet voice kept whispering his name over and over…just like the clinking of the cold metal chains that rang non-stop. In the darkness that the devil whispered sweet, acidic words, becoming more and more audible was the sound of hastened breathing. It was getting louder and louder, for he couldn't stop it anymore…as if…to convince him…
The very evidence of his losing.
Fresh, warm blood tricked down his legs, pooling on the solid stone floor.
Drip. Drip. Drip. More and more droplets ran down dripping – all bloody red. The captive, bound in the darkness, only replied with a smile that could not reach his one blue eye – the color of the sky itself – for he was again reminded how much he hated this world…and the true darkness that resided in it.
Repeatedly…the feeling of this man…inside him.
"Even if…I like you this much." Long finger tried to force itself into the already filled hole, stretching the opening even as it couldn't bear the stretch even further.
More blood dripped down pale, slender legs.
Red against white.
The tissues were torn.
…His feet were only warm because of all the blood pooling…
"…Ahn…" The restrained beauty bit his lips. Only because he didn't want to let out the sound that he knew would do nothing more than please the other.
If there hadn't been any chain to restrain him, he would have fallen right there, for he had no more power to stand.
He felt so dirty…
One strong hand – tainted all over with blood – glided all over his body, leaving bloodstained traces as if to mark him before moving up his smooth abdomen – knowing so well the tension in the chained beauty's posture – up to his still heaving chest, and then…placing his fingers on those beautifully bleeding lips, smearing the blood there.
Painting them red.
"You like it, don't you, Mukuro-kun? Your body is reacting to my touch so eagerly. Why don't you let me hear your lovely moan?"
One single blue eye narrowed. Still, those bloodstained lips lifted up into a smirk.
"Ku…fufu…I'll tell you what, Byakuran-san."
There was nothing else he could see in the darkness.
"Y…you're the most disgusting mafia I've ever known."
Rokudo Mukuro hated mafia…as much as he hated this unfair world.
Pain entered him again and again…and even if he couldn't see it, he knew the other was smiling.
That deceitful smile.
"I'll take that as a compliment. So…"
The moan escaped him before he could stop it as if to signal…for his absolute defeat.
"From now on, you'll become my lovely doll. You'll do everything as I say."
The blood kept dripping down and down, pooling at his feet; however, the clink-clank sound of the chains was dying away…slowly but surely, like a pendulum that was losing its swinging force.
"You'll be…my most beautiful toy."
And then his consciousness was lost…
Just like the pride he couldn't anymore save as it was then broken...crushed into million pieces.