Series: Kingdom Hearts (Specifically, KHII)
Word Count: 766
Characters, Pairings: Axel, Sora, Roxas (kinda), hints of Axel/Roxas
Summary: He knows Roxas is hiding in there somewhere.
Warnings: very graphic violence, gore, character death.
Notes: I wrote this for KH Drabble’s Secret Santa Exchange some time ago. XD;;;; I just never posted it here. Man, I miss writing KH fic. D’:
“Are you afraid, Sora?” Axel asks, but he already knows the answer—he can see the fear in those wide blue eyes; can feel it in the air like electricity; can taste it on his tongue, and it’s sweet and bitter at the same time.
Granted, the boy should be afraid: He’s chained down (his struggles are in vain) and the circle of fire around them gives him nowhere to run, even if he could break free from the chains (and he can’t; he won’t).
He could incinerate this boy—turn him to ashes (it’s what he did to those stupid friends of his, Donald and Goofy, though Sora doesn’t know that, and won’t know it). He could, but he won’t. He has something else in mind.
(He’s going to find Roxas.)
“No,” Sora finally answers through clenched teeth, and Axel smiles, because he knows it is a lie. He has to give Sora credit, though—the kid is trying.
“Wrong answer,” Axel sing-songs, fingers touching Sora’s cheek, making Sora flinch. “Roxas wouldn’t be afraid.”
“Roxas,” Sora says, and frowns. “You all keep calling me that, but I’m not Roxas.” There’s an edge of something in his voice, and Axel thinks he almost recognizes it. “I’m not.” Ah, indignation—that’s it.
“No, you’re not,” Axel agrees amicably (Sora won’t find argument with him in regards to that matter), fingers trailing absently (almost tenderly) along Sora’s skin. “But you have him—he’s here, somewhere inside of you. You should give him back, Sora.”
Sora shakes his head, clearly not understanding (or perhaps he simply doesn’t want to understand). “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m just me!”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Axel softly corrects. “You are you and not-you, and I intend to separate the two of you. I want to bring him back.”
“You don’t make any sense,” Sora says weakly, but Axel knows that he makes perfect sense. “Why are you doing this?”
Axel shakes his head and taps Sora’s forehead with an index finger. “So stubborn, like Roxas.” And for a moment, he’s lost in the blue of those eyes. “… I told you already—I want Roxas back.”
“I can’t help you,” Sora insists, but he’s wrong there, too.
“But you can,” Axel replies, and he wills his chakrams to appear—their weight feels comfortable in his hands. This part will be easy, too; it’s all too easy, because Sora trusts entirely too much.
He imagines Roxas, remembers the taste of betrayal, bitter and burning like acid. Sora will learn it today, but will not be around (alive) long enough to commit it to memory (got it memorized yet?).
The fear in those eyes becomes greater lightning-quick, and Axel would say that it makes him feel smug—or it would, if he could feel anything at all (and he can’t).
“He’s inside,” Axel repeats, and horror-struck blue-like-the-ocean-blue-like-the-night-s
“Please,” Sora whispers, and Axel shushes him. Time to begin.
The fine points of his chakrams slice through Sora’s clothes easily (like butter), and he touches the skin beneath with hands and cheek and mouth, smiling as Sora trembles.
“He made me feel like I had a heart, you know,” Axel says off-handedly, (not-)feeling the need to break the current one-sided conversation (Sora’s whimpers and pleas and half-sobs are nice and all, but Axel doesn’t like the awkward silence in-between).
Flesh is easier-cleaved than clothing, and Sora’s whimpers become screams, blood flowing freely, dripping onto the ground—drip, drip, drip… the sound is almost as pretty as the screams.
His chakrams tear through muscle and ligaments (which are decidedly trickier), and there’s more blood, spattering on any exposed skin and trickling down, and it’s warm. Sora stops screaming and goes limp at some point—Axel’s not entirely sure when, but he keeps talking anyway, looking into lifeless blue for a moment (but not entirely lifeless, not entirely. Roxas is in there).
“You were the only one I liked,” he says to Roxas now, because Sora can’t hear him any longer.
Bone proves to be even more difficult, but Axel manages, and finally, finally, he touches the heart—feels it pulse feebly beneath his fingers, and stares in wonder, for there is no air moving within Sora’s ruined lungs, and yet, there is still a beating heart.
“Hello, Roxas,” he says, feeling lighter now.
And, amongst the blood and gore and remains of the Keyblade master (Sora is gone, but Roxas is not), he smiles like he means it.
This is how creepy my writing can get. >.>;;;