Moon Child – Numb
“Numb” by Ryuuzaki Kusakurin
DISCLAIMER: The only thing that could possibly ever belong to me would be the idea for this piece of fanfiction. Not the actors, not the wonderful movie it came from, not… well, really, not anything. I own nothing. ><
Warnings: Blood, drabble
Characters: Sho, Kei
Theme Songs: Orenji no Taiyou [Gackt and HYDE]
I swear, I’ve got to remember that I can’t listen to ‘Orenji no Taiyou’ while I have a Microsoft Word document open, or else things like this happen… For once though, I was pleased with the results.
X-posted to my LiveJournal.
His bloody hands raked paths in his own arms and still he made no move to stop himself. His arms moved on their own, pushing his nails down with all his strength to bite into the flesh underneath, and all he could do was stare.
All he could do was stare blankly at the paths as they healed themselves only seconds later. And so the process was repeated, over and over again, time after time garnering the same result.
The blood that welled up from the scrapes that he barely felt stained his skin and fingers, and somehow a splash had ended up on his face. He barely moved as his fangs inched out of his gums, tingling in stark contrast to the numbness he felt throughout his entire body. And then, as his hands restarted their now-familiar track down the sides of his arms, starting at the shoulder and forcing their way down, he felt the pain blossom beneath his fingers, felt the way his not-warm-enough blood pulsed over the fingernails embedded in his skin. He could feel the way his body reacted to the liquid, and with equal anticipation and dread he savoured the sensations that came with it. His vision refocused itself on the bleeding gashes as they re-healed themselves only to be continuously reopened, and his nostrils widened slightly as he took in huge amounts of the air he no longer required just to fill his senses with the rich aroma of blood. The thought disturbed him but he enjoyed the scent with an almost masochistic attitude; the thought that he could still feel the pain that he had sought was most gratifying.
With a choked sob he brought a bleeding limb to his mouth and clamped down, simultaneously loving and hating the way the fluid filled his mouth, feeling dizzy as the sensations of being drained and feeding began to overload his senses. His eyes fluttered shut and he let his body slowly sink back into the chair he had been sitting in, unable to let go of his own flesh even though he instinctively knew he was running out of blood. The taste intoxicated him and he knew he would pass out before he died, which would allow his body time to heal so that he could wake back up and rejoin the living – the irony of the was his mind had phrased it was not lost on him and he sucked at the wound around his teeth, pulling blood forcibly from his veins rather then letting it flow freely.
As he reached his limit and the world began to fade, he dimly heard a door open and felt cool, strong arms wrap around him, picking him up as though he was a child and carrying him to his bed.
“Sleep, Sho,” the voice said, the name of its owner escaping him as he tiredly stared up at the man’s moss-green eyes and blonde hair. The familiarity he saw there was comforting, even if he couldn’t name the owner of the voice. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” the soft-spoken man added and that was all Sho needed to slip into a peaceful slumber for the first time since he had died.