AUTHOR'S NOTE:
THIS IS DEDICATED TO ALL OF YOU, MY BELOVED READER'S, AS WELL AS MY WONDERFUL, BUT OFTEN ANNOYING, SON, D-MAN. HE CHALLENGED ME TO DO THIS FIC, IN HONOR OF HALLOWEEN AND AS MY LAST FIC THAT I WRITE. I AM NOT LEAVING DOKUGA COMPLETELY, I JUST WILL NO LONGER WRITE FANFICTION [I COULD NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS WILLINGLY GIVE UP SESS/KAG FANFICTION...I WOULD SUFFER WITHDRAWLS AND DIE. LOL!]. ANYWAY; THIS WILL BE DONE IN THIRTEEN CHAPTERS, THE STORY LINE WILL SPAN A TOTAL OF THIRTEEN DAYS...THE THIRTEEN DAYS PRIOR TO HALLOWEEN. I MUST WARN YOU THAT THIS CONTAINS REFERENCES TO BEING GANG RAPED, BUT THE BULK OF IT WILL FOCUS ON THE BRUTAL AND GRISLY DEATHS OF THE THIRTEEN MEN THAT WAS INVOLVED IN THE ACT. IF THE SUBJECT OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT GO ANY FURTHER. ALSO, THERE WILL BE SOME REFERENCES TO FORENSICS [THE CSI SYUDENT IN ME WILL NEVER DIE!], AND SAID REFERENCES WILL BE EXPLAINED. IF THIS FIC TURNS OUT TO BE STUPID OR JUST DISPLEASING...BLAME THE BOY! AH-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!
##############################################################
Ah, Mozart; how she had loved to sit and listen with him. He swirled the dark liquid in his glass, his head leaned backward against the chair he sat in as he inhaled deeply. The invigorating, satisfying smell of copper filled his nostrils and the man felt his heart rate increase just a little as a result. Slowly he allowed his eyes to lower until they rested upon the glorious, and oh-so-very gratifying, sight; it brought him such a feeling of utter satisfaction to see that vile piece of filth laying there, his entire abdominal cavity having been emptied of every last diseased organ that it had once housed. The look of sheer terror permanently frozen upon the face of the last one that had been involved for the world to see brought the man such a feeling of triumph over those that had wronged him and his angel. The reprehensible thing had been saved for last, and it had been for a valid reason. The despicable, rotting corpse that had, at one time, been his younger brother had been the first one and, so, the bastard had been the last to die. They all had met their end at his hands, all thirteen of the sons-of-bitches; each one of them had suffered injuries indicative of the role that they had assumed in what they had done to her those many, many nights long ago...all in the order that they had been done. It had been said that vengeance was sweet, and at that very moment - he agreed with that whole heartedly. Long had it been since he had known such inner peace and contentment; he had to admit that it did, in fact, feel good.
The man sipped his wine leisurely, praising himself for choosing such a fine Merlot, and waited for the time when they would arrive. His mind reflected upon the last thirteen days; he had made every man pay for what they did, just as he had vowed that he would, taking a portion of each as his spoils when the life had left their eyes. Oh, some had been smaller than others, but that did not matter to him; what did matter was that he had managed to avenge the wrong that had been enacted upon his angel back then. It had taken long for him to discover the identity of those who had done it, for she never told him; in all fairness, she had never said another word out loud since that night... She had gone to the party alone since he had to work even though she had agreed to stay away from that party; she had promised that she would wait for him to get off work, damn it, but she was bored. His angel never really liked not having anything to do; he could not really fault her for it, she had been but a young woman in the prime of her life; she was not to blame for anything that those animals had done to her tender young body, marring it for all of eternity. Twenty six bruises; that was what she had upon her when he found her, and then there were the cuts upon her flesh as well ...a few of which never fully healed right. Four were as a result of them tying her up in order to complete their sick and perverse plans, for his angel was a fighter; she would not simply lay back and agree to what they wanted to do to her. The things they did to her that night made his blood boil inside his veins and his mind scream for revenge; which was exactly what he had done...he got revenge for both his angel and for himself.
They were to be married, his angel and him; they had told no one about their involvement due to the possibility that some would have found it to be questionable, much to his shame. He should not have allowed her to talk him into keeping their relationship a secret, he should have told all that he saw that she belonged to him and to keep their fucking hands off of her or they would suffer the consequences. Sadly though, he did not make such proclamations and they had seen her as an easy target. He could still recall the last time he saw her before it had happened; he had been on his way to work, taking the time to kiss her and let her know what to expect when his shift ended. They had made plans for them to get together after he got off of work...she was to meet him at his home where they would indulge in a light, late supper before moving their date to his bedroom for dessert. When an hour passed and she had not arrived, he called her phone but received no answer; he did not start to experience true fear until it reached the two hour mark and still his angel had neither arrived nor called him.
Finally, around midnight, she arrived. He would never forget how she sat there upon his doorstep so battered and abused, her silent sobs wracking her tiny person so violently that her entire body shook; it had been a memory that haunted him for the entire thirteen years that followed it. Knowing gripped him brutally as it occurred to him exactly what had happened to her that night; even though he had no idea that there had been so many, he knew that she had been the victim of an assault. The haunted and fearful look in her eyes had told him that much, as did the torn blouse that she had upon her back. As he tried to help her into the house, her legs giving out on her a few times in the process, the girl became dizzy and violently nauseous; she dropped to her knees and vomited several times, emptying her stomach of all its contents. He did not have to ask; he knew what the whitish streaks in her emesis were, and it made him sick to his stomach as well. Just how it was that he had allowed it he did not know, but no call to the proper authorities were made. Perhaps it was the look of sheer terror in her eyes the very instant that he picked up that receiver to dial for the police that had caused him to set the phone down? There was such a genuine sense of fear there and, for the life of him; he just could not ignore it. She had not wanted him to involve the police; something that he did not know the reason for up until recently...thirteen days prior to this night. Oh how she had pleaded with him to vow to her that he would not involve anyone else; she had even threatened to run away if he did not make such a vow to her. It was a vow that he had managed to keep to her through the spans of time that had passed since.
Apparently, his angel had initially tried to decline their 'invitation' that night...she had mentioned to her assailants that her boyfriend would not approve of her attending a private party with them; they had countered her refusal by lying and saying that she would not be the only woman there. When all was said and done and she lay sobbing, restrained and naked - the helpless victim to their sick and cruel intentions, not only did they threaten her with severe violence beyond what she had endured during their despicable acts, but they had threatened her 'alleged' paramour as well, should anyone ever find out about the things that they had done to her that night. He had wondered over the years as to why his angel didn't just tell the savages that he was her paramour; it was certain that the mention of his very name would have halted their plans without fail, of that he was positive.
He had cared for her as best he could, treated her wounds himself; if he mentioned bringing in an outsider to assist, the same terror stricken look would appear in those eyes that he adored. It became most tiring, waiting on the girl hand and foot as he did; it got to the point where he had to give up his career in order to be there for her, but he did not complain about it though. His inheritance from his father had ensured his continued comfort and, so, giving up his beloved profession had no hard financial impact upon him whatsoever. His younger brother had long moved out, back before father had died; which meant that it had been only him residing there in that large house. Even though she did not verbally tell him her reasons for not wanting anyone else to know about what had happened, the young man had known that she felt shamed and humiliated about her attack; he had seen and heard about it enough to have realized that. The man had spent countless hours browsing the internet in order to educate himself on the subject as much as possible; he only wanted to help his precious one realize that she was in no way responsible for the atrocities that had been committed against her. It would have most likely been easier for him if he could have somehow managed to get her to speak to a crisis counselor, but time and time again, she refused; either with her eyes, or ignoring him completely. His angel could do some things for herself, with a little prompting from him, but she did not interact with him like she used to; sometimes he had wondered if she really knew that he was there with her at all. Over time, her responses became less frequent until the time came when she stopped responding to anything at all...even to him; those sapphire eyes of hers stared blankly off into nothing, remaining ever silent while she was trapped within her own mind - and unable to break free. His once exuberant and vivacious angel had retreated into herself, seemingly lost forever in her own silent hell. It had been so heartbreaking for him to see her in such a state, but he had never lost hope that she would one day recover and become the young woman that he had known and adored. Those bastards had broken her very spirit; her fire had died out, and appeared as though it would never burn again.
Then it happened; his beloved appeared to be on the verge of recovery, and his very heart soared. She responded to his voice, turning in his direction; even her eyes seemed to have regained that brilliant luster that had held him mesmerized on many an occasion. How disheartening it was for him when he realized that had been mistaken, for his little angel had begun to cry. The young man died a little bit more inside as each tear fell down her sweet face, but it was the verbal account of the entire horrific event that had the worst effect upon him. He listened to every sordid, disgusting detail as it came from her mouth; her voice was so even and so toneless that he felt his blood chill within his veins and his entire body had been rendered utterly devoid of feeling. He had known that she had suffered severe trauma to every orifice that she possessed that night; however, he had not known that there had been that many involved in her attack. Thirteen men had violated his angel; some even double or triple teaming the girl; the images that flashed before his eyes caused his stomach to lurch quite violently. It truly frightened him to his very core how she could sit there, telling him everything that they did to her with remarkable and intricate detail, but not become a hysterical, emotional mess. She managed it though, much to his disbelief. He could not stop himself from asking her; it had been a question that had burned within his mind for so long - and since he had the opportunity to finally quell his need to know, he felt that he had to take it. The man had asked her to tell him the identities of the bastards that had violated her; when it seemed as though she wouldn't tell him, he vehemently insisted that she comply with his request. It had been hard for him to keep the rage out of his voice, for he was truly enraged by her story of degradation and humiliation.
Every ounce of color drained from his face as he listened to the ever lengthening list of names that were familiar to him, some of which he knew rather well, but the very instant the last name fell from her lips, the man's mind seemed to short circuit on him. How? How could his younger brother, his very own blood kin, participate in such a reprehensible and despicable act like a gang rape? He never would have thought it was possible, and he would have been apt to call his sibling's accuser an outright liar, had it not been his beloved angel who had said it. While it was true that the boy had always been of questionable morals and of even more questionable intelligence as well, but never in a million years had his brother displayed any sort of violent behavior toward the fairer sex. Their father had always taught them to respect women and hold them in high regard; so, what, for the love of god, would ever have possessed he boy to pull a train on an unwilling female? There really were no words accurate enough to describe just how it made him feel to know that someone he had been somewhat close to, had shared a home with for a good portion of his life, could actually be capable of such atrocities. It did not matter that she had said all thirteen of them had been intoxicated and under the influence of illicit drugs; even with those things in their damned systems, they had to know that, on some level, what they were doing was wrong. The very fact that they had threatened her into keeping the authorities out of it revealed that they had possessed some sort of coherency, whether it was before, during, or even after the fucking act. These had been people that he had interacted with at some damned point in his life and for them to do something like that was beyond appalling. Even after she had told him everything, his angel showed no other emotion over it except for the tears that streamed down her face; it should have set off warning bells inside his head, but it didn't. He had been so consumed by both his shock, and his rage, that he had failed to notice the signs that there had been a big problem where his angel was concerned....
Why, oh why, did he leave the damned room? He should have stayed with her, despite her deceptively calm demeanor or his own seething rage; he should not have left her there by herself, for if he had not needed some time to process all he had discovered...she would not have had the opportunity to do what she did. He should have been aware that his precious angel would have interpreted his retreat as a possible indication that, in light of what she had told him, he found her presence to be disturbing in some manner. He should have known that she was not in the frame of mind to be left completely unattended...
Just as he had never forgotten the sight of her the night she was attacked and wound up on his doorstep, the man was destined to ever recall her peaceful face as she lay upon her bed, appearing as if she was merely asleep and would eventually awaken so that they could discuss what it was they would do from there. The man decided to cater to her apparent need for rest, feeling as though she may have overtired herself and, so he simply covered her with light blanket and a gentle whisper for her to have pleasant dreams. As supper time arrived, the girl still had not wakened. Although he had believed that she might still require rest, he knew that she should eat something in order to keep her strength up; which prompted him to place his hand upon her shoulder to try to rouse her...that was when he discovered that his angel would never wake again.
When he inspected her for the apparent cause, he could find no injuries upon her whatsoever to indicate just how it was that she had managed to do it; which only served to confuse the holy hell out of him, unable to understand. How could he have known that she would find it in her to venture out of her room; or that she would wind up in his bedroom to discover the little bottle of sleeping pills that he used on occasion, for the seemingly endless nights when he needed a bit of help in achieving a productive night's sleep, that he had kept upon his dresser? Never in the years that had passed since she came into his care had she ever left that room without him there to encourage and prompt her into doing so...he had no way of knowing...oh gods, why did she have to do it? They could have talked it out; they could have made an attempt overcome what had happened, for he had told her many times that he still felt the same about her as he had before her attack. Theirs had been the kind of love that nothing in the world could diminish; it would have withstood any and all adversity that life threw at them, had she only found it in her to give it a chance...to give him a chance.
That was when it began; when his mind decided that he would take the very lives of those that had caused his angel to take her own, and thusly, ended his life in the process. She had been his everything, and now - now he had nothing...all because of them; those thirteen despicable, reprehensible, undeniably cold-hearted, sons-of-bitches. Oh; how he would make them pay for what they did to her. They would pay with pain, they would pay with tears; they would pay with their very blood, and he would be the soul who would make sure that they did. He would do it for her, as attestation to the love that they had shared, and as proof that he did, in fact still love her and always would. The bastard's believed that they had managed to get away with their crime, sitting back for years in a self imposed sense of security that would prove to be their undoing. His was a keen mind; one of irrefutable intellect, and it would definitely serve him well in his task. Those loathsome creatures had no in ideas as to the type of hell that would find them....
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@