Persephone, Act II, a Manga fanfic

R-NC-17 (Though parental guardians are not at all recommended.)
Rated for the following: Violence, abuse, rape, death, homicide, colorful' language, blood sucking (o.O;), sexual situations, and lastly... Slash/Yaoi

He took everything, and gave nothing... When all Persephone ever wanted was to be loved....

Persephone

Act 2, Scene 4, The Dark of the Matinée

You take your white finger
Slide the nail under the top and bottom buttons of my blazer
Relax the fraying wool, slacken ties
And I'm not to look at you in the shoe, but the eyes
Find the eyes

Find me and follow me through corridors
Refectories and files you must follow
Leave this academic factory
You will find me in the matinee, the dark of the matinee
It's better in the matinee
The dark of the matinee is mine, yes it's mine

I time every journey to bump into you accidentally
I charm you and tell you of the boys I hate
All the girls I hate, all the words I hate, the clothes I hate
How I'll never be anything I hate
You smile, mention something that you like
Oh, how you'd have a happy life if you did the things you like

Persephone woke up in complete and total dark, surrounding him like a suffocating void. He was even unsure, at first, if he had yet opened his eyes, but when he reached out into the confining darkness before him, his hands met with something cool and smooth, just before him and to his side. His worst suspicions were confirmed as he first noticed the cold body that lay beside him, so close he was surprised it had taken him so long to do so.

He shut his eyes tight, his breathing becoming increasingly shallow as he tried to drown out the ominous thoughts of darkness, surrounding him in the long but small box. Beside him Lucien stirred, a cold hand brushing his, sending a small shiver quite effectively through him. Persephone... Came Lucien's voice, quite docilely, considering his usual behavior.

The boy just clung to him, shivering now, chilled to the bone, both for --contradictingly enough-- Lucien's touch, and the thought of being in his coffin. It was not so much claustrophobia as it was a fear of the darkness itself. And death, of course, was a morbid, disturbing subject, something he still had quite an aversion to considering how it surrounded him. But it smelt like death inside this heavy tomb, and even the smooth silk that surrounded him seemed itself to crawl of death, putting him at ill ease. It made it too easy to want to sleep.

Persephone, Lucien spoke again, just as demure but with more conviction, an icy hand reaching to run across Persephone's cheek, sending shivers down his spine. There were moments of silence, in which it seemed to Persephone that Lucien was content to just have them lay there, knowing full well the conscious presence of the other, but doing nothing about it but be close, which wasn't hard considering where they were.

Yes..? Persephone replied, finally, and the hand caressing his face stopped for a moment, before Lucien's fingers moved to run across his trembling lips. He expected Lucien to kiss him, or touch him more, but the fingers lingered for only a moment, before twining in his hair.

You can go out today, was said finally, after another, shorter silence, though another followed. You're... he paused, his voice far more vague than Persephone usually heard it --but he was often like this when he should be sleeping (when he wasn't in a mad rage for having been woken up, that is). Awfully pale. You should go out more... It almost sounded to Persephone that it was painful for Lucien to say such things, and it was more as though he was repeating a suggestion than deciding it himself.

I- Persephone began, but Lucien's hand left his scalp and pushed the coffin lid open just a crack, which was just as well as Persephone didn't know what to say anyway. A small, dull shaft of light filtered through the slight opening, and Persephone let out a breath he had non known he was holding in, hoping afterwards, with a cringe, that he hadn't offended the vampire. But Lucien didn't seem to mind, or at least made no motion that he did, and instead gave Persephone the slightest of pushes to go.

He could tell that it was well into the day, simply because the light had managed to shine inside the coffin at all; it wasn't as though Lucien kept it near a window or well lit area. Persephone climbed out of the coffin that Lucien held open more for him, and when he was finally on both feet with some grace, he turned to say goodbye, or thank Lucien, but the lid had already slid shut once more.

Persephone felt a pang of guilt, and sat on his knees next to the large, glossy black box, his hand reaching out to trace across the beveled edges. Vaguely he realized that he was still wearing the white gown from the night before, ruined and in tatters.

It was a terribly beautiful tomb with golden hinges and accents, and a large, ornate cross embossed in the middle of the slightly domed but angular top. Inside, Persephone knew from experience, was lined with red silk, a blood colored fabric that neither gave nor retained any warmth. And for all it's old elegance, it always looked clean and new, set in the equally nice, offish bedroom in the manor.

After whispering his thank you's, Persephone lifted his head from the cool, dark wood, and stumbled rather weakly from the room towards his own, his feet unsure in the fatigue he still felt. When he stepped through the doorway of his own room, which was at the corner of the house and lined on two walls with windows, he could see that it was already well into the afternoon.

Which meant he only had a few hours before Lucien would wake up for the night, and he was uncertain if Lucien would still agree with his own decision after doing so. After all, only a day had passed since he had last gone out, and it almost never happened that he was allowed to do so with such frequency.

That also meant only a day had passed since he'd met the incorrigible Demetrius Black... A blush passed over his cheeks as he thought about him, and he hurried to change his clothes and try his mind out on another topic, but it plagued him the entire time.

Why should Demetrius matter to him so much..? Why should he have such an impact? What exactly were the effects of thinking about him..? Of.. Being with him. Persephone felt light for a moment, thinking about being with him', and the far from acceptable intimate moments they had shared during their short period of knowing one another. But perhaps Demetrius was just faster than most people Persephone knew --which said little as he knew few people-- because, after all, they'd shared their first kiss mere minutes after they even knew the other existed...

His blushed flourished, and he shook his head, trying to remove the uncomfortable thoughts from his head, and tried instead to occupy himself with what exactly it was he would do that day. The last time he'd been out, he and Demetrius had carried all the groceries he would need for a while home... But Lucien said go out, and he wouldn't waist the opportunity.

Even with permission, the house was left quietly, so as to refrain from rousing anyone else besides Lucien. He knew he was really the only resident that ventured out during the day, but the thought of a confrontation still bothered him enough for him to be careful, and he quietly, with painstaking slowness, opened the rusted iron gate and slipped past, surprised as always that it was still unlocked. It meant... Either Lucien had forgotten to have it locked since they came back (which rarely happened), or he had known in advance that he would let Persephone out again.

Persephone's steps were still uneasy as he walked down the sidewalk away from the manor, though he didn't really know where to. There was a park a ways down the road, large and for the most part empty, on the way to the small, one-street town that led to the large city. He ventured there, always alone, in his precious free time, usually remotely content in his solitude.

It struck him as odd that a small black car would be parked on the side of the road towards the center entrance of the park, but he kept walking, opting that he couldn't possibly always be the only person there. A slight breeze picked up, chilling the already cold air to a more winter-esque extent, and he shivered slightly, passing a swing set with its seats moving by themselves in the wind.

Just past the park was an old church, now abandoned and condemned, a relatively dangerous place to be considering it was a house of God. It was a fair distance on foot, and when Persephone finally reached its large, oaken doors, one halfway torn off its hinges, the sun had moved a substantial bit across the sky. He had to duck and climb to get through the opening in the doors, but he'd done so many times before, and now had it down to an art.

The church was an old, fallen masterpiece, its long since abandoned pews half crushed by a cave-in at the highest peak of the church rood. Light streamed in through the multicolored panels of the stained glass windows, cracks in the ceiling, and intricately past the collapsed beams. Dust coated the pulpit, and filled the inside of the baptismal bath. Upon the high, still-standing back wall, the crucifix still miraculously hung, though the sign reading 'I.N.R.I.' was crooked and off one hinge.

Persephone had no idea how long the Catholic church had been there, how long it had been abandoned, or why. He came here only as often as he dared, and Lucien never seemed to know, or at least made no mention of it. He knelt before the alter and from a loose, splintered floor panel he pulled up a small Bible and a set of humble Rosary beads. He hung his head and began to pray, speaking aloud but softly, fingering the beads with the Bible laying at his knees. "Angel of God, My Guardian Dear-"

"To whom God's love commits me here," he stopped, as the second verse of the prayer was spoken from behind. "Ever this day, be at my side," it was Demetrius, walking around the fallen rubble, smiling fondly at Persephone. "To light and guard and rule and guide. Amen." He stopped at a bewildered Persephone's side, who, startled by Demetrius' sudden appearance where he was always alone, moved as if to leave. "Wait..."

Demetrius' hand was out towards Persephone, and he looked vaguely hurt by the boy's motion. "You're almost done, aren't you?" he asked, but from what Persephone could tell he seemed to know the Rosary well enough to know that answer. "Let me pray with you." From the pocket of his long, dark trench coat, he produced his own set of beads, much nicer than the ones Persephone had managed to save up for himself. He nodded his head and smiled again, blushing slightly, and bowing his head once more. Together they began to pray the remaining Hail Mary's, Our Father's, Glory Be's, and Fatima prayers.

"Amen," they said together finally and for the last time. Demetrius smiled up at Persephone. Not once could the violet eyed boy remember having prayed with someone else. He knew the entire Rosary by heart, and all of the Mysteries, but could not ever remember even having spoken of them with someone else. "It's been a while," Demetrius grinned at him, and Persephone knew he referred to the prayers rather than to him.

I didn't know you were religious at all, Persephone said finally, smiling as he decided he may as well try to have a friendly acquaintance with the Black heir, and nothing more, of course --the thought of which placed a pretty blush on his cheeks. I suppose I... he tried, hoping his words hadn't seemed cruel. I don't know very much about you, do I..?

He only smiled. Of course I'm religious. I sort of have to be, you know, considering the fact that I'm- he stopped. I... Uh... Persephone quirked a brow at him, and he grinned again. No, I suppose you don't know that much about me. He'd been about to say I'm a vampire hunter.' Persephone still didn't know, at least not to his knowledge. I don't know much about you either, he pressed, standing up and helping Persephone to his feet as well.

Would you like to tell me? he asked, serious for his usual persona, holding both of Persephone's hands in his and making no move to let them go. They were frail and pale against his own, more tanned skin. He loved them, and he wanted to know them too, every finger, every joint, but he wouldn't scare Persephone. Not just yet.

Persephone bowed his head, giving up pulling away. Demetrius was much stronger than him, he knew. There isn't really... Much to say. He was unused to talking about himself, as it was usually Lucien who told his story for him, half of which was foreign to his own ears as he heard it accounted. You've heard what Lucien says, haven't you? There really isn't much else to know...

How old are you? What's your favorite color? Animal? Food? Scent? Season, song, flower? he began in a rush of words. Do you know your sign? Your last name? A middle name? Do you actually like breakfast? Or those disgusting fancy' foods my mother must have at her parties? Or those parties, for that matter..?

Violet eyes stared at him, and Demetrius stood patiently, his own emerald green ones gazing back intensely, intent on an answer to every single question. Persephone was bewildered by the sudden onslaught of inquiries. Half of the questions had never even occurred to him to dwell on. I-I u-um... he bit his lip, feeling jittery at the fast pace of Demetrius' words and the slowness of his own response. Twenty-two.

-What? He cracked a grin as he asked, realizing he'd set himself up to get confused. Oh, oh, oh... Wait.. You're -Twenty-two? His smile spread. Really?

Why? Persephone asked, vaguely indignant. A-am I... Old or something..? He'd never really thought about it. It meant he'd been with Lucien for... At least three years. Maybe four. I asked Lucien, and it's the age he told me... I really don't know... I...

No, it's not that! Demetrius cried happily. I just thought... Well, I don't know how old I thought you were. But I had no idea, he said smirking coyly, and leaning down so his forehead rested against Persephone's. That I was in to older men. I'm only nineteen, you know.

An intense blush raged across Persephone's cheeks, and he finally removed his hands from Demetrius', covering his face with them. He didn't know why their age would bother him so much... Because they would just be friends. Demetrius laughed, and pried Persephone's hands away from him, twining his fingers in one and leading Persephone towards the makeshift entrance to the church. I'm only joking. I happen to think it's kinky that you're older than me. Doesn't it make you feel naughty, thinking about someone younger taking you? he asked with a wink as Persephone shook his head profusely.

Of course he didn't feel that way... Not that he thought about that at all..!

Demetrius helped him through the rubble and outdoors, rather gentlemanly for his previously juvenile remarks. The two walked together through the park, Persephone not feeling up to removing his hand from Demetrius', deciding it was okay for them to do so --as friends. He disclosed as many answers as he could.

His favorite color was blue, something he had an affinity for even though Lucien never bought him clothes in such colors. He liked horses, fruits, ocean smells, spring, anything classical, forget-me-nots in periwinkle. Demetrius preferred black, and dogs, anything spicy (for both food and scent), autumn, techno and rock opera, and no flowers --they weren't manly enough. Persephone didn't know a middle or last name to call himself by, other than perhaps Lucien's..? He didn't know his sign --Demetrius was a Gemini, and hinted that Persephone must have been a Virgo-- but they both agreed on their distaste for breakfast, fancy' foods his mother must have, and the parties she had to have them at.

They walked aimlessly through the park, just talking, the sun setting lower and lower in the sky. It was light, so light, until Demetrius gradually tried digging deeper. I know as well as you do that you're a boy, he said softly. And I am very fond about that fact. But why do you dress as such..? he asked, referring to the unmistakably feminine ensembles he'd seen Persephone wear. And why do you stay with Lucien..? He can't be treating you so well, or else you would not be so sickly and pale. Still beautiful, but you could have a little more color, and a fewer amount of skirts.

It was a while before Persephone could bring himself to answer Demetrius. He himself didn't really know the answers. When he didn't think about those things, he didn't think he needed answers... But now that he was being asked, he was at a loss, and wondered how it could be so. I... I suppose I dress the way I do, he said with a blush. Because it is the way Lucien provides for me --though I suppose I do prefer pants. And I... I stay with Lucien because... I owe him so much. He felt guilty now, for holding Demetrius' hand, as innocent as he'd made it out to be. And I... I...

Don't, Demetrius interjected solemnly, and their hands fell apart in a mutual understanding. I wont argue with him, but I don't agree with your reasoning. And don't ever say you love' him. It simply isn't true. The wind picked up, and the began to sing down past the horizon. The two stood facing one another, but neither looking at the other. A faint sound caught Persephone's ear. It sounded like his name being called, softly into the breeze... Persephone, Demetrius' hands were on his shoulders. I don't understand why you...

Persephone...

Persephone..? He had looked away, towards where he had entered the park. Vaguely he could make out the swing set he'd passed, silhouetted against the blazing sunset. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Was there someone sitting there..? A child, perhaps? It wouldn't be so strange. Persephone..? Are you listening? Are you all right..? Would it..??

Persephone.

I-I cannot stay any longer, Persephone stammered out, wrenching himself away from Demetrius' gentle touch suddenly, as though it had suddenly turned to acid, burning his skin where they made contact. I- He heard his name again, and his head shot to the swing set again. His heart fluttered faster in his chest. I must go..!

Persephone, wait! Demetrius called after him, taking a moment to realize that Persephone really had run from him, towards the setting sun. Wait! He ran after Persephone, determined to get an answer as to what had troubled him so. The sun was sinking lower and lower on the horizon, casting strange, fiery shadows on the previously endearing park.

He saw Persephone clearly then, falling to his knees at the foot of one of the seats of the swing set, upon which a pale, small boy sat, with flaming hair as red as the bloody sun. Persephone- his words caught in his throat, and he stopped, many paces away from his destination. The boy had his hands on Persephone's head, which Persephone had laid in his lap on top of his own arms, where he seemed to be sobbing softly. His fingers twined in Persephone's hair, he looked up and turned to smile eerily at Demetrius, who couldn't, for the life of him, move.

Persephone, he saw the boy mouth, returning his attention to Persephone, and lifting his chin. He was smiling at Persephone, wiping his tears off of his face, cupping his chin in his small hands. The last sliver of the sun sunk below the sky, and a large rush of wind raced past the two and towards Demetrius. It's really you... He heard Persephone say, his voice carried in the wind that he nearly fell over from as he pulled his hands up to shield his face.

When he looked again, the boy was gone. In his place stood a tall, elegant man with long, flaming hair, holding a shivering Persephone in his arms. A black cape billowed around him, and he turned again to smile at Demetrius, this time with a flash of abnormally pointed teeth. His eyes were darkened by the lack of light, so Demetrius couldn't make out their exact shade, but he could guess what kind of eyes they'd remind him of... I've come to take you home, said a handsome, elegant voice.

Vampire's eyes. Persephone! Demetrius called, his voice sounding foreign and not nearly loud enough to his ears. He saw Persephone to turn and look fearfully at him, but the tall, pale man flipped his cape around him with a regal toss of his arm. Persephone! He ran forwards, but it was too late. They were gone, in a sickening swirl of darkness, dead leaves swirling in the air at their wake.

Demetrius fell to his hands and knees, cursing himself and anyone else he could think of. He thought he had never seen the sky grow so dark so fast...

So I'm on BBC2 now, telling Terry Wogan how I made it
And what I made is unclear now
But his deference is and his laughter is
My words and smile are so easy now
Yes, it's easy now, yes, it's easy now

Find me and follow me through corridors
Refectories and files you must follow
Leave this academic factory
You will find me in the matinee, the dark of the matinee

Well, find me and follow me through corridors
Refectories and files you must follow
Leave this academic factory
You will find me in the matinee, the dark of the matinee
It's better in the matinee
The dark of the matinee is mine, yes it's mine

The italicized words are coppywritten to Franz Ferdinand, on their CD Franz Ferdinand track four. I in no way lay claim, other than... I just typed it... :)

._.; Happy Halloween~~ I know, I know.. It's a tad late~ But eh, I try. ^^; For those of you who did not get it in an e-mail (I got it to 68 people but I could have missed some~) let me know, or check out my Deviant Art account, because the Halloween card I made featuring characters from Persephone is up there... .com

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