Author's Note: Well, I just wanted to write a fanfic different than the ones I normally read. Whyyyy is Mello always the one getting raped and beaten? Not that I mind, of course, but I never get to see Matt as the one who suffers. So I present to you: Kaze's Twisted Matt Rape. Wow, that's a really shitty title, huh? xP Onward!
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, but GOD I wish I did! If Death Note were mine, Matt and Mello would take over as soon as they are introduced and the Kira plot would completely vanish. It'd go from story to smut in ten seconds flat. )
Warning: Violence, rape, language, etc. Probably going to get worse as the chapters go. Don't know how many chapters will be in this story, by the way. This is what happens when I get bored at ungodly hours of the night.
Mello's heart caught in his throat. "What? What did he say?"
"I have your toy. Just thought you should know." Click.
Toy? No way, it can't be. Matt.
Matt never came home Friday, true, but he often vanished for a few days. It had only been three days, not anywhere near long enough to worry. And yet...the proof was hidden behind the dial tone emanating from the dead line. "I have your toy." No way. No fucking way.
Mello shook his head and shot into action. Thanking God in Heaven for paying attention to Matt's rants on hacking, Mello flipped the laptop's monitor up and plugged in his cell phone. Running two or three complex programs, he traced the call to a private phone line in the heart of Los Angeles.
Los Angeles? Mello's eyes bugged. No way, it couldn't be. That was on the other side of the country. Mello expected to trace the call back to the Bronx, not fucking California. No fucking way. He needed to make some phone calls. And fast.
Three hours later, Mello and two of his goons from the mob were taking off from the private airstrip of a wealthy black market dealer. "Fuck, I'm coming for you, Matty," Mello whispered under his breath as the New York skyline became a faint speck in the distance...
CRACK! "Ahh, fucking hell..." Matt gritted his teeth as something thin and wooden was broken over his back, causing his skin to split and bleed. He struggled against the ropes that bound his wrists together above his head. He was completely naked, save for a blindfold and the goggles around his neck. Sick bastards thought he looked good in them.
Hands grabbed at his skin, squeezing places that nobody should touch. He swore again, louder this time, and received a slap across the face. The blindfold covering his eyes was pushed up slightly as some scruffy man's lips locked onto his own. Through his gags, Matt could make out the faint lines of a concrete wall. The lights were dim, making it incredibly hard to see anything else. As the man, who smelled of sex and weed, pulled away, the blindfold slipped back over his eyes. Matt spat in the general direction of the wall.
"Looks like we reeled in a fun fish this time, boys," a slurred voice said hoarsely. "Hey little Fish, how do you like it? A room full of anxious men, and no way to escape. Kind of sexy, ain't it?" The man hiccupped drunkenly, choking on his own spit for a moment. The whole room smelled like booze, weed, and filth.
Matt felt a deep growl rising in his throat. An eager hand rubbed at his lower back, daring to dip lower for a handful of ass. Matt pulled against the ropes holding his wrists again, testing the strength of his bindings. Without warning, he pushed off from the ground, spinning in a wide loop and kicking his feet at anything he could reach, as the ropes dug into his skin. He made contact with several bodies and at least one jaw before he was grabbed and pinned against a wall. Strong hands held his shoulders still as the leader, he presumed, drunkenly fumbled with something in the background.
"Well, well! One feisty little Fish, aren't you? Aren't you? But hey, if you like things rough, we'll be more than willing to respect that," the man laughed, cracking what sounded like a whip in the air. Matt held his breath as the buckle end of a belt crashed into his shoulder with sickening strength. Had he been able to see, he would have been blinded by pain.
The beating continued mercilessly. Lash after lash danced across his back; open wounds wept blood that mixed with sweat. Matt would have screamed had he been able to breathe. He would have cussed had he been able to think. And after an eternity of pain, he would have collapsed had he not been bound by his wrists. His legs gave out anyways and he dangled from the rope like some twisted child's battered rag doll. The men around him laughed, rubbing their hands on his bloody back. He jerked violently at the touch, squeezing his eyes shut.
"This is just like the games," he thought to himself, "Just like when one of your party members gets kidnapped and you have to go rescue them. Right when the villain is about to throw them into the volcano, the hero shows up and defeats the bad guys, and the game is saved. Any minute now, I'll be rescued and we can battle these guys, and we can go home." Matt's body tensed as he heard the sound of a zipper behind him.
"Any minute now, I'm going to be rescued. Just like the games. Just like the games..." His mind raced violently as he felt someone positioned behind him.
"Just like the games...this isn't going to happen..." He screamed as he felt the intruder penetrate him, pushing into forbidden territory. Laughs rang out as Matt's mind reeled. He tried to struggle, but found that movement hurt him in too many ways.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This isn't happening, this isn't happening..." Matt cried out as he felt something tear inside him. The man thrust harder and harder, finally releasing his thick liquid inside Matt like a dog marking his territory. To add insult to injury, the man dragged his fingernails roughly down Matt's bleeding back, making him cry out again.
"Mel...!" Matt gasped. "Mel...hel...p..."
"Well, Fish, I suppose I was right. You're no virgin." Thick, heavy laughter fell onto Matt's deaf ears as the gamer drifted out of consciousness.
Mello wasted no time in locating the mysterious building. It was inconspicuous enough; just a simple half-building snuggled in between two large, expensive towers. Without waiting for his men to catch up, he cocked his gun and kicked the door down. The building seemed abandoned at first glance. A thick layer of dirt covered most everything, including the floors. He paused, taking tentative steps toward the middle of the room. He was just about to turn around when he heard it. Laughter.
Without a second thought, Mello sprinted to the back of the building until he found a flight of stairs. A heavy iron door separated him from the 'party' downstairs. Frowning, he simply shot the doorknob off.
A gunshot rang through the air, startling the men downstairs. Matt's body was covered in bites, bruises, and open wounds, though he'd been unconscious for most of his injuries. A blessing for now.
"God damn it," the leader swore, reaching for his gun. Several of the other men reached for their clothing, looking for hidden knives and guns. "God damn it, Fish," the man spat, "Looks like your boyfriend's here."