Bloodied Dreams
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,266
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,266
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Prologue: Too Late for Tears
A/N: This would be my first published work. Reviews are welcomed, and most certainly desired. All warnings are for future chapters, though I can assure you they will be coming into play soon enough. If you notice any errors, please let me know. Also, this is just a small prologue in order to establish the current events. The first, actual chapter will be up next. However, still feel free to review before then. As for the characters, they are indeed mine, and I ask that you do not steal them.
Prologue: Too Late for Tears
'Kirinai Officials Baffled By Disappearance of Millionaire's Son'
Even without the aid of glasses, the large, black headline was still perfectly clear. One by one, barely aged fingers traced each character, simply gracing the smooth surface the paper had to offer. It was almost as if it were merely a dream, or rather, a sick, twisted nightmare. In what other realm, besides the one of sleep, could such horrors come to be?
She was a bright woman, the blue-eyed brunette currently resting within the lone, velvet red armchair the study had to offer. With roughly twenty-nine years of life experience beneath her designer, million dollar belt, she knew as much as any average person, if not more so. She knew as the nearby clock ticked away, the chance of finding the silver-haired boy slowly, but steadily decreased. She knew with each passing second, the ten-year-old was in the hands of a stranger, someone that could do to him as they pleased, without anyone to stop them. Most of all, she knew everything was her fault.
“Ji-Hin,” she murmured, the single name suddenly holding more power over her than she would have ever considered possible. Countless tears were not far off as she found herself relinquishing her self-control the very thing that had been keeping her sane. One by one, the droplets peppered the front page, carelessly blurring the words it held. How long would it be, before the phone rang? How long until some break, some news would come? As she choked and sobbed, unable to stop herself, the woman could only attempt to imagine.
They had promised her soon, very soon, whenever that was. To them, ‘soon’ was hardly soon at all. From a few hours to a few weeks, the term hardly held its original meaning once tossed around by the uniforms. In fact, it was already twenty-six hours, should the clock upon the wall be right.
How much more time do they need?
'Kirinai Officials Baffled By Disappearance of Millionaire's Son'
Even without the aid of glasses, the large, black headline was still perfectly clear. One by one, barely aged fingers traced each character, simply gracing the smooth surface the paper had to offer. It was almost as if it were merely a dream, or rather, a sick, twisted nightmare. In what other realm, besides the one of sleep, could such horrors come to be?
She was a bright woman, the blue-eyed brunette currently resting within the lone, velvet red armchair the study had to offer. With roughly twenty-nine years of life experience beneath her designer, million dollar belt, she knew as much as any average person, if not more so. She knew as the nearby clock ticked away, the chance of finding the silver-haired boy slowly, but steadily decreased. She knew with each passing second, the ten-year-old was in the hands of a stranger, someone that could do to him as they pleased, without anyone to stop them. Most of all, she knew everything was her fault.
“Ji-Hin,” she murmured, the single name suddenly holding more power over her than she would have ever considered possible. Countless tears were not far off as she found herself relinquishing her self-control the very thing that had been keeping her sane. One by one, the droplets peppered the front page, carelessly blurring the words it held. How long would it be, before the phone rang? How long until some break, some news would come? As she choked and sobbed, unable to stop herself, the woman could only attempt to imagine.
They had promised her soon, very soon, whenever that was. To them, ‘soon’ was hardly soon at all. From a few hours to a few weeks, the term hardly held its original meaning once tossed around by the uniforms. In fact, it was already twenty-six hours, should the clock upon the wall be right.
How much more time do they need?