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Copyrights belong to me: Kichan/Vertigo/Rachel ok? Theft of this story or its characters will result in much pain on the part of the thief, and much glee on my part as I rip them to shreds. Please don't let this discourage potential reviewers. I'm just REALLY protective of my bishonen.

Warnings - Contains themes of war, violence, bad language, and mature minds content.

Archive - I'd be more than flattered as long as you ask first. Although I can't imagine why you'd want this story. ^__^ ______________________________________

It's dark, stormy, clouds everywhere overhead, wind whistling in my ears. I can hear The Words in the breath of the skies far louder than they ever were, but I've gotten so used to it, that I don't listen anymore. I could never understand them anyway. I turn a little, seeing nothing but gloom and rolling carpeted fog everywhere I look. It's drab and monotonous, but with each passing moment, which I can hear like the beating of my heart, it grows increasingly eerie, sending a chill slithering up my spine. Where can I go? What sort of dream is this?

As I walk, I can feel no solid ground beneath me. It's as though I walk on nothing but air, though I can barely see the hard packed ground as my bare feet carry me. I realize then, that my feet look much too small. In fact, I feel rather short. I bring my hands before my face, looking on in terror. They aren't my hands. These small childish things aren't mine. I never had fingers so tiny and weak. I touch my face, shivering now. It's not my face either. Who have I become in this place? I am small, too small. Strangely, I can feel a phobic fear kneading its talons into me. I've never felt it before. It's like I fear being tiny and pathetic. Maybe that is true. I have never been so before, as long as I can remember. I was never a child.

Not long after this frightening discovery, I trip and stumble to the ground, sniffling from a scraped knee. When I rise to my small feet again I glance down to see a stranger lying prone on the ground, weapon flung from his hands. I stagger backwards, feeling sick. He's dead, which is obvious from the amount of blood painting the ground below the thinning fog. The mist is clearing and I turn away in disgust, only to see that there are a hundred more like the first, defeated, lifeless, some brutally torn apart. My breath comes fast in horror and I recoil and cover my mouth immediately at the hideously foul taste of the air. No wonder, these poor creatures must have been dead for weeks. Instinctively I flee, running blindly from the blank stares that are all fixated on me. I am glad to escape, so glad that I kneel for a moment and try to stop myself from laughing insanely.

Hours, days, maybe even years pass in a blink and I am standing in a room, totally in the darkness, save for flashes of lightning that shockingly silhouette unidentifiable shapes in the room briefly. I can hear myself sobbing and I sit down on the floor and curl my arms around my knees. The floor is wood, hard and unyielding and splinters are digging painfully into my bare feet. There's the scent of blood and dead things in the air here and it makes my mind feel strangely at home, while at the same time I am sickened once again. The Words are here again and I can feel how desperate they sound, trying so hard to tell me something that my mind cannot understand. Also, in the background, there is someone else talking to me, and I can hear that it is coming from somewhere near the window. There is a sense of impending doom as I wait for the next lightning flash to illuminate the features of this place. I wait four or five seconds before the light crackles and thunder claps so loud it makes my ears ring. At that moment, I can see a face I've forgotten so long that I swear my heart stops. There's a moment of silence where nothing stirs, then I hear the voice that belongs to that face speaks.

" Helix, don't look at me with those fearful eyes. Why do you do that? "

I feel puzzled, a little hurt, but I don't know why, " Do what, sir? "

The shadow moves a little and I can see eyes in the dark, glowing pinpoints of sinister gold, " Don't play innocent like that you worthless brat. You know exactly what I mean. "

My body becomes weak as I inch backwards and curl into a defensive ball, " I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me. "

" Shut up, weakling! "

Nothing in the world can stop the blows from falling; at least that's the thought in my mind. All I can do is try and ignore the searing pain that wracks my small form. It's impossible to defend from it, so I am left whimpering and crying and trying to crawl away as well as I can. It isn't very adequate and I feel that my legs might be broken now, hit by some heavy sharp thing, perhaps my wrists too. I'm not sure. It's all one large mixture of agony and humiliation.

After a while, the incoming blows halt, leaving me feeling totally beaten and almost afire with pain. I tilt my head just enough to see someone struggling with the monster who had attacked me. They are just two shadows dancing around on the floor. It's almost a delicate waltz for a moment, then one tumbles to the ground, and the other pounces upon it. There's a horrible cracking, ripping, sound and everything goes quiet.