Hunter x family

~8~

Killua snuck out in the middle of the night. He couldn't sleep, and he was bored. He wandered the dark empty streets, lost in his thoughts. He suspected it to be about 1 am, although his perception of time could be off. Berlint was very different from where he used to live, it was honestly a nice change. There was a lot less crime, which was nice. He heard something rattle down the street but he ignored it and kept walking. Probably just a raccoon- he felt hands grab him, and his vision was obscured as bag was shoved over his head. Killua froze, but before he could lash out, he was nailed hard in the back of the head with a steel baseball bat, and his consciousness slipped away from him.

"d'ya think he's the right one?", "ah who cares, we'll make him useful", "maybe get a ransom?", "hah, only after we're done getting information" Killua's brain slowly registered the situation he was in. Cold handcuffs clenched around his wrists, keeping him confined to a chair. The bag was still over his head, but he could sense at least 5 other people in the room. Three men, two women. One was beside him, one was in front of him, and the other three were in the corner of the room chatting. I got kidnapped? Man I was really off my game... he had to keep his cool though, he would be fine. It wasn't the first time he'd been kidnapped, and most likely wouldn't be the last either.

Killua got to work trying to determine how much wiggle room he had in the handcuffs when he heard footsteps approaching. "Ay, he's awake" one of the females said. The room fell pretty much silent, save the coughing in the back that was most likely from smoking. He could smell it as well, and it wasn't pleasant. "what do you want?" he said. The female laughed, then he felt a cold sharp point against his sternum and he froze. A-A knife... Killua was in a very bad position. He wasn't fast enough in this state to be able to react if the knife cut into his skin. Not handcuffed like this, his body wasn't capable.

Killua forced his hands to stop trembling, there was no time for childish fear. The bag was torn off his head, and he quickly took his bearings of the surroundings. It was a small room, with only one door. The people in there with him looked...menacing. More menacing than they should for just some thugs without nen. "hey there kiddo" the woman said, using the tip of the knife to encourage him to raise his head and look her in the eye. "all you have to do is be a good boy and answer all of our questions" she said, with a malicious glint in her eyes. Killua was no weakling, he was no 'kid'. He was an assassin. His eyes turned cold, and he stared her dead in the eyes.

The woman looked taken aback for a moment. "Heh" she grinned. "not gonna talk ay?" she snapped her fingers. "oh Rowan~ come do your thing darling~" Killua let his eyes drift over to a lanky male in the back. He snickered. "oh I don't mind dear" he said, then picked up something on the table and started walking towards him. Killua's blood ran cold as he recognized the item in his hands. It was a taser, but not just any taser. An industrial one, the kind you used on cattle. Killua tensed, his mouth going dry. The man walked closer, activating the taser with a cruel smile. "I guess we'll have to pry those answers out of your mouth little boy"

Killua's heart rate and breathing picked up, he couldn't control his fear. Images flashed through his mind. Images of him being chained and whipped until he bled, dug into with nails and blades, electricity coursing through his body, poison seeping through his blood until he was reduced to a sobbing mess. "what's the matter little boy? Crying already?" the man said, laughing. "I havent even touched you yet" tears were rolling down killua's cheeks and he struggled, panting hard. "N-No- get away from me-", "Just hold still sweetie and everything will be alright" the woman crooned, giggling.

Killua's brain shut down, he couldn't handle it. The mental strain was too much. His vision went blurry, and his instincts kicked in.

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The first thing that registered in his brain when his senses came back to him, was a searing pain arcing across his chest. The second, was the hot stench of blood. Killua's eyes widened in shock. His hands gripped around a wooden handle of a bloody baseball bat. Bodies were laying around him, all of them having been brutally bashed and disfigured into piles of broken bone and flesh. Tears stained killua's cheeks still, and his hands shook on the grip of the bat. I... He looked down at the bat for a few moments, his brain taking a few moments to realize the situation.

This is bad. Very, very bad. He quickly located a match and started a fire, burning both the bat and any evidence of him brutally murdering those five people. How the hell am I supposed to hide this!? He thought, looking down at the deep gash on his chest. Killua bit his lip hard. I have bandages at home. He quickly started on his way there, trying to keep the wound from bleeding too much for now. He'd made sure to keep some bandages and first aid supplies in his bathroom just in case, but he never thought he'd need it like this.

Killua stood in the shower, letting the water run over him in order to clean the wound. He covered his mouth as he tried not to cry too hard, fist clenching. It hurt, so much. His body wasn't resistant to pain like it used to be due to the age reverse and he hated it so much. Blood was everywhere, he'd have to spend a few hours cleaning it up. Killua turned off the water, then dried himself off and gingerly started bandaging the wound as best he could. It had finally stopped bleeding, but he didn't know how long that would last.

He spent at least two hours scrubbing the bathroom, making sure to erase every scrap of evidence of the blood splattered on the ground. After that Killua made his way to his room, and snuggled under the covers. He lay awake, trying to shove back the pain. Ow...it hurts... He sniffled, forcing his body to be as still as possible. "M-Mm...." He whimpered. Killua silently cried into his pillow as pain stabbed through his body, having twisted slightly and wrenched the forming scab. Not that a scab would be easy to form on a wound that big. But...he couldn't tell anyone. He couldn't step foot in a hospital, or explain how he'd gotten the wound. He could only lay there in misery, crying. Suffering alone...like he always had been, and always would be.

1179 words

To be continued...