Thorns

Title: Thorns

Rating: NC18+

Band: Dir en grey

Pairing: overall Kyo/Die and mentions of Toshiya/Die

Part: 1/?

Die’s POV


“As you can imagine, when I woke up I was in complete shock. I had no knowledge of the events that led to my vulnerable position chained to what I could only presume was a bed. I came to consciousness choking on my own spit, pulling my head upwards only to find that my body was unable to follow- as I had mentioned before doctor, I found myself completely immobile. It was so dark that I could not make out anything in the room but, the smell was awful…suffocating. It was rich and floral, almost like roses yet it had a trace of a metallic stench- blood, and the overall stench of death.

I knew someone had died in that room, If not the very bed I was laid upon. The idea made me begin to grow anxious.”

Pausing, I looked up at the man sitting across from me, who kept his head down as he feigned some kind of interest. Interest or not, he still got paid. I bit down on my lip to keep the anger from boiling in my heart.

“You awoke tied to a bed,” he spoke up, “yet you weren’t anxious when you noticed the chains?”

“I don’t fear the lack of control, doctor.”

He seemed to be agitated as he dismissed my response- waving his hand slightly at me “Please, continue.”
“Seeing as I couldn’t remember anything from the day before, my anxiety grew until I began to pull harder at the cuffs. The whole bed began to shake under me as I continued to pull until I found that the only thing I was doing was causing injury to myself. I laid there.

Given the circumstances my whole situation seemed a bit bleak. If someone had died there, I thought my chances of being found alive were slim. I feared the worst.

But as the hours seemed to have melted away without any sign of my captor, I got increasingly nervous. And when a full day had passed, my unease turned quickly to panic. Soon that day too, faded away.”

The doctor spoke up, “Did you bother to scream?”

“No, I didn’t think that would help,” I brought my hand up to my face; “I must have been drugged. When I look back on the whole situation I think that I acted out of character. I began to doze off, in and out of sleep- I don’t know how I was able to sleep really. I don’t remember how long I was out, before I awoke to a pair of large black eyes hovering over me. My first instinct at this point was to struggle. I seemingly forgot my chains as I began to jerk around fiercely. The figure over me jumped back as well before he closed his eyes. I heard the faint sound of breathing before his hand came to rest on my stomach.
There was really nothing I could do about it so I just laid there; my eyes glued on where I imagined the outline of his face was. He simply kept breathing, in and out, in and out- until he spoke.
‘You came back to me, honey. I knew you would.’”


“What went through your mind at this point?”


“I thought he was crazy!” I choked, “Even though I could hardly see his face, I just knew we had no connection- he wasn’t someone I knew.”


“Are you certain?”


“Yes. His actions, the slow way he moved, down to the very tone of his voice were all repetitive- it sounded like he had done this before. It almost sounded rehearsed. He muttered that same line over and over before he said, ‘I’ll never let you leave me again.’ He stormed out of the room leaving me alone in the darkness. There were some times he came in to feed me- by hand, never letting me out of those cuffs. The first few days he never lit a candle or turned on a light for me. After the first week I had pretty much lost all hope.”


“How long were you…?”


“Two months,” I responded quickly, adverting my gaze down to my feet- “Two and a half months to be exact. All the time I had spent in the darkness, my eyes had adjusted quickly to the point where I as able to make out shapes near me. Next to the bed there was a small night stand, there was nothing on it- but across the room there was a long dresser covered in vases full of dead flowers. On the other side of the bed there were various small tables covered in the same kind of flowers.
He didn’t enter that room for three days; I had begun to keep track of the time by watching the pattern of his feet on the other side of the door. During the early morning hours the pacing was quick- the shadows of his feet obstructing the small amount of light that seeped from under the door. As the day grew, the pacing stopped almost completely until nighttime, when it seemed to be at its most furious.”


“The pacing of a madman…” the doctor mumbled to himself, adjusting his glasses as he looked up at me, “time’s up for today. I will see you Friday.”