Akuma

Chapter 2

A/N: Implied child abuse and violence. Do not read this if you are uncomfortable with these topics.

"As I said earlier, the beginning of it must have been when I was five, when Sabine left me and kept you," My tone going sour as soon as Sabine's name left my mouth.

I had just arrived at the doorstep of the orphanage, bruises littered across my legs and arms and fresh tears streaming down my face. One of the workers opened the doors, just to be met face to face with me. A small child who was crying and beaten and possibly bleeding. They stared at me in shock, I sniffled in response. They quickly grabbed me and hurried me to what I assumed to be the owners office.

They talked for a bit, asked me a few questions which I answered less than truthfully, then went to find me a room. I was left in the room for only a few minutes, but it was enough for me to trash the place trying to find food. I felt pretty bad about it at the time, but they just smiled and said it was alright.

They led me to a room with only one other child in it, they were my roommate for a few years. Until a very unfortunate and accidental situation occurred. Their name now escapes me, although I'm sure there's records of it somewhere.

Anywho, they immediately tried to show me who's boss. After years of dealing with Sabine, I expected them to do worse, but they just punched me a few times. I went to my bed, and they apparently thought that was me giving up.

They left the room and I sprang back up, revenge on my mind. I wasn't just going to roll over and take this, not again. Of course, as a five year old, I wasn't very creative; although, I did have a lot more patience and energy. I rummaged through my small purse I had brought with me until I found something that I could use, a small thumbtack. I didn't do anything with it, yet.

After, I'd say, roughly four weeks I had finally figured out what to do about the burning desire for justice. I was a "nocturnal little bastard" meaning that I could easily get whatever information I pleased. Which at that age should have been, 'What ice cream flavor is the best?' or 'How much candy can I eat before I get sick?' I knew the answer to that one, it usually averaged at one hundred or so.

Anyways, whatever information I pleased was what position my "friend" most often slept in. Sounds creepy, no? Well, I was a creepy kid. Still am, I suppose.

Well, once I did find that out, I set my trap. I placed the thumbtack directly where their spine would be. It may sound odd that I knew what position they would be in, but, that was the information that I needed. A majority of the time (85.697883%) they slept face up and on the left side of the bed (5.69 feet or 1.734312 meters from the edge of the bed).

I was lying awake in bed, people rushing around me to get to bed before curfew. The current time must've been around nine p.m, since curfew was nine thirty. I was relatively bored, despite curfew coming soon, that kid wouldn't be in bed for at least another hour. I don't think that I ever figured out exactly why they were always late for bed, but eh, doesn't especially matter.

So, I'm lying there, and I have nothing to do. Since I was only about 6 at the time, I got bored and cranky quickly. I end up repeatedly banging my head into my pillow. Well, more so my pillow into my head. Then, unexpectedly, the kid walks right in. I drop the pillow on my head out of surprise, then quickly remove it to watch the scene unfold. An adult walks in as if on cue right behind them, they looked angry. Most likely having just caught the kid doing something he wasn't supposed to. The adult had a bag in their hand, I couldn't tell what was in it from where I was though.The kid looked relatively proud, regardless of what had transpired.

My emotions about it was some weird mix of interested, impressed, and despite. I can hold a grudge for a very long time, although, it hadn't been that long. The adult went on to scold the kid, for whatever it was he had done. They then pointed aggressively towards the kid's bed. The kid scoffed and rolled his eyes, but made no attempt to sit or lay down. The adult grew furious and began shouting at the kid. At this point, I was also getting angry, since I really didn't appreciate the adult ruining my plan. I sat up and asked the adult what was going on. They whirled around and shouted at me as well. I flinched and stared at them in disbelief, no one- besides that kid- had yelled at me.

The adult was slowly getting closer to me; in the background, the kid was wearing a smug smirk. I was baffled, this was unprecedented. I wanted to get out, I didn't like being yelled at, but I also wanted to see the kid when he tried to lay down.

It was ten minutes past curfew, most of the adults had left or gone to bed and so had the children; so no one else was awake to witness the scene. The adult yelling at me, combined with the asshole kid in the background, a bond was created then. I stood up abruptly and began shouting back, my emotions swirling around in my soul. I felt so angry, and I wanted them to stop, but I was holding back.

Something similar happened between me and my biological mother a small bit before she kicked me out of the car. Of course the event happened at the house, not inside the moving car.

I felt so confident, and stood taller. The adult came to their senses and told me to lay back down, that this was not my problem, in the most soothing voice they could muster. I glared up at them and with all the strength my little five year old self had, I kicked the adult in the "sweet spot". The kid was now laughing their ass off as the adult fell to the ground, their expression reading one of shock and pain.

My soul felt like it was burning with desire in my body, of both revenge and the need for something I didn't have; I didn't know what to do for the latter, as I didn't know what it meant, but I could most definitely do something for the former.

A small growl escaped my mouth as I prepared to go for the kid. They glanced at me, amused, they made me an offer to "join them" in their pranks and such if I did as I was told and didn't tell any adults.

I froze for a few seconds before slowly walking up to them, they smiled and offered their hand. It wasn't a welcoming smile, more like a sneer. I didn't pull any facial expression as I took their hand. I looked them straight in the eye and told them "no," in the most flat tone of voice I had at the time, and twisted their hand -and consequently their arm- around. Their eyes widened as they screamed, the adult quickly got up, still in pain, and tried to pull the kid from my grasp. I complied with their demand to let the kid go, but not before giving their arm one last twist that ended with a satisfying cracking sound. They screamed louder and used their non-broken arm to clutch the other one. I could tell the adult wanted to tell me off, but they picked up the kid and quickly left the room. They called out behind them that there would be repercussions in the morning.

I stood there for a while. Startled by my actions and the intensity of both them and the emotions that caused them. Those said emotions were slowly draining out of my soul, but the intense want, no, need for some object that I didn't possess remained. It had been there when I was arguing with my mother, but, not nearly as intense nor close. Close as in, there was a strange pull to go elsewhere, to do something; it had been farther away in the car, but it felt like an event was going to happen that was going to bring me closer to what I needed.

I went slowly back to my bed and sat on it, the dizzying sensations slowly bleeding out of my soul, a lot slower than the emotions did. It was difficult to focus on anything else but that need. My senses felt like they were washing out from my grasp, the world was swimming, sounds bled together, my skin was crawling with the sensation of the passage of time, I could taste blood in my mouth, no not blood, something else. The air pulsed with energy, and it smelled metallic.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing pattern, which was irregular, too quick. Slowly it slowed. I gradually opened my eyes and was relieved when everything was back to normal. I gently placed my body back down on the bed, but couldn't bring myself to close my eyes again.

I tried desperately to calm back down, but my heart and thoughts were racing. I closed my fist out of annoyance, and tuned in to the song of my soul. Effectively calming my heartbeat and lulling me to sleep.

A/N: Any and all constructive criticism welcome!