Corrupted - A JSAB Fanfiction

Chapter 1 - Paradise

You chose "Yes."

Very well.

I'm glad to see you all hyped up.

But be careful on what you choose, or you'll regret it...

Hahah, I'm just kidding. I'll quit the creepy act. Well... I wasn't kidding about being careful though. You don't want to accidentally kill me or my friends... right?

Right?

Look, just choose carefully and you'll be fine. Three votes, five days. Simple!

Have fun.

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"Cyan, LOOK OUT!"

Something exploded behind him, and he launched quite two feet into the air because of its impact on the ground. He landed with a loud thud and his face scraped the ground, earning himself a nasty scratch on his right cheek. He groaned as he tried to stand up, arms wobbling like jelly as he tried to push himself off the ground.

But as he did, something powerful and what felt like a huge, strong hand violently grabbed ahold of his neck from behind, the sudden weight making his arms collapse and caused his face to smash against the hard dirt. Blood leaked from his lip. The hand was blocking his windpipe, almost crushing it as it lifted him clear off the ground.

He snapped shut his eyes as he desperately thrashed around in its grip, opening his mouth to scream yet unable to make a single sound. He tried clawing at its arm, he tried kicking, even though his legs couldn't even reach their huge body, but it was no use. He was completely helpless.

With difficulty, he opened his eyes little by little, and what met his gaze, the monster that was currently crushing his neck, was absolutely terrifying.

The man had another one of his claws was raised above his head like a deadly set of blades, a nasty, psychotic grin of pure evil plastered on his face. He looked ready to strike into his heart, and then it would be over.

One of his electric pink eyes had a psychotic, crazy tic that pulsed rapidly, as if dancing with victory. His glare was bright and dazzling, and the look of death was swimming in them.

He couldn't stop it. The claw launched itself towards the direction of his chest . . .

...

The buzz of the coffeemaker rang throughout the small apartment, keeping me awake.

I was silent as I watched the dark brown liquid pour out of the machine, making a satisfying sound of water gently dripping on water. Steam drifted from the hot cup as I brought it over to the small dining table. I sat down on the stool, and blinked, mind completely blank as I stared at the cup of coffee.

You know those moments? When you just woke up and feel like your mind is empty, and you can't think of anything to do so you just stay on the spot?

That's what I was feeling.

It was 7:45 in the morning, way earlier than my actual wake up time, but last night I just couldn't sleep. The cold morning air seeped through the open window of my apartment, way up in the seventh floor, gentle sunlight illuminating the small apartment room. I was tired, but funnily enough this coffee I made wasn't for me.

"Holy shit, Cyan, you look like a sleep-deprived blue-haired panda."

I turned around in my seat to look at a tall, well-built, pink-haired man with streaks of gold weaved into his hair, looking over his early twenties, wearing a light gray T-shirt and darker gray shorts, standing barefoot by the doorway of his bedroom. By the fresh look on his face, he had slept pretty well, the bastard. His left eye with a scar on it which was usually hidden away by an eyepatch was closed and he was rubbing his only right eye, yawning.