Bonding and Bite Marks

Help Me

When John opened his eyes again, he was shrouded in darkness. Not normal darkness, either. It was black. Pitch black. Beyond pitch black. There was nothing as far as he could see. His heart clenched in terror, thinking he was back in the water. As he panicked and flailed, he quickly realised he could breathe. If he could breathe, he certainly wasn't drowning. After that he calmed enough to realise it wasn't cold or wet enough to be the sea. He was also lying down. The surface was solid, but he couldn't tell whether it was solid ground or some sort of platform. It had no texture, just enough substance to tell him it was there and he wouldn't fall through it. He got to his feet, stumbling slightly. Not because the ground was uneven, but because it was hard to get his bearings when he couldn't see what was below him. The truly odd thing about this place was that he had no trouble seeing himself. He could see his sneakers and jeans with perfect clarity. He could also see his body and arms as if it were daytime, only there was no light. There was nothing. He gasped as something brushed his cheek, finding a small ball of light dancing through the air. A Shiki? One of Koujo's? He felt nervous as he held his hand out, palm up.

The ball of light floated a little longer before slowly sinking, coming to rest in the palm of his pale hand. He could feel it in his hand, but it had no weight. It felt like static dancing on his skin, accompanied by a strange warmth. His chest swelled with a sense of safety. It was familiar. You are one of Koujo's Shiki, aren't you? He felt even more certain as the dancing ball remained in his hand. He wasn't sure if it was there to guard or guide him. Did Koujo send you?

"Wait!" His voice sounded shatteringly loud in the black space. The light drifted up and started floating away, dancing small circles as it bounced and bobbed through the darkness. John hurried after it, slightly thrown by the solid surface beneath his feet. It was flat and even, but he couldn't quite decide whether it was hard or soft. It made no sound as he walked, not even a scuff. In fact, nothing in this strange place made a sound. The silence was eerie. Oppressive. "You..." John trailed off with a stammer as he came to a halt. Standing just a little way ahead, with his back to him, was an ebony-haired figure. It was the only clear thing in the darkness besides himself. He couldn't quite decide if the figure was standing or floating as he stared in mute horror.

John felt his whole body tense as he stopped dead. He could feel his legs twitching, but he couldn't move a muscle. Don't...Don't turn around! His heart pounded in terror as he stared at the lithe figure. From the back, he could be mistaken for Naru, but that was hardly surprising. They were brothers. They even dressed the same, in black suits. The figure's head tilted slightly, drops of water dripping from his sodden hair. John couldn't look away as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder. Seeing John, his whole body started to turn.

John shuddered at the sight, almost stumbling back in fear. His clothes were torn in places and hanging sodden on his slim frame. Where it wasn't cut and bruised, his skin was deathly pale, almost a little grey. Red-rimmed eyes with rings swollen purple stared at him, white streaked with red, the blue pale and faded. They were wide, almost bulging where they'd been forced out with the pressure of the water, red as can be without bursting. His pale lips trembled as he looked at him. No...Stay away...I don't want to see this! I don't want to be here! The barest whimper escaped John's lips as Gene took a lurching step towards him in the darkness. He almost fell from the clear break in his leg, lurching and stumbling like an undead nightmare.

"...se..." The dry, rasping whisper barely escaped Gene's lips. His eyes were wide and desperate as he staggered again, desperately reaching one hand out to John as the other hung limp at his side, broken and unmoving. He stopped moving. John trembled. "...p...se..." He tried again, helpless tears sliding down his cheeks. John felt his fear lessen at that, his body somehow warming as he really looked at Gene. He wasn't some undead monster to be feared. He was a lost soul. Lonely and afraid. He wasn't lashing out in anger. He was reaching out in fear. He's lost...A well of sympathy swelled in his chest.