A/N: Ok, this was a request from Amaru Tanashi and it was requested forever ago but I've finally completed it! YAY! Alright, so this fic picks up where the anime ended and it's more of a sadistic genre rather than the fluffy-squishy stuff I usually create :D Oh! And I know Tsuzuki is actually older than Muraki, but he isn't in this fic^^

Warnings: Yaoi (Tsuaki), Sadism, bondage, mentions of sex, abuse, mentions of kidnapping, not a lot of dialogue.

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own this anime; however, I do own the fan-fic! Tis mine! :D

Reviews = Love

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Gravel crunched under polished leather shoes and through cat-like eyes he could see that the old lab still stood; though it was crumbled in ruins. The structure's once strong, clean exterior was now mere rubble, burnt with black smudges. Not that that mattered too much, it would still function just has he wished it to; it would easily still serve his purpose.

Hate filled silver eyes narrowed into menacing slits as Muraki stared at Saki's floating head. All the work he'd put into giving that blasted skull a body; only to have it all slip right through his fingers! But oh, he would get his revenge. Muraki grinned, oh yes, Tsuzuki owed him his revenge; a nice, healthy body to destroy.

The doctor gave a sadistic chuckle; Muraki was back, and it was only a matter of time before he held Tsuzuki in his grasp.

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"Oi, Hisoka, what are you doing?" An owl-eyed Tsuzuki sat hunched over in an over-priced office chair staring at his partner. He continued to look at the kid strangely when the honey-blond teen sighed in a disappointed fashion.

Hisoka's emerald eyes narrowed into fierce slits and Asato couldn't contain a questioning, puppy-like whimper. It was painfully clear Tsuzuki hadn't listened to a word he'd said, nor had he listened to Tatsumi-san; who'd just given the two a detailed description of their newest case.

"We've been assigned," the youth barked out gruffly.

According to Chief Konoe, a string of peculiar murders had been spotted a little ways from Kyoto. So far, all the victims shared the same fate. And in this particular case, there was a painfully obvious pattern the murderer was using. All of the victims were young males; their ages ranging somewhere between mid-teens and early twenties, and they'd all seemed to be connected to each other in some sort of way.

For instance, Victim 1; a young 17 year old high school student, had gone to the nurse the day before his death, therefore damning the nurse to become Victim 2; and so on and so forth.

Wounds littered each of the males that'd been found in strangely public locations; but the most significant of the wounds was a certain part of their anatomy was missing. It was presumed that it was cut off and kept as a souvenir for the killer. In result, all twelve victims bled to death and it was Hisoka's and Tsuzuki's job to figure out who the murderer was and put these murders in the bag.

Tsuzuki nodded his chibi head, clearly proving to his old partner that he'd been listening and understood his instructions; while Hisoka gave a nervous, jittery smile. Knowing Otsu wasn't far from the dreaded, memorable city of Kyoto didn't sit well with the youth.

This would be simple, right?

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Tsuzuki waited in the alleyway, his dark form easily hidden within the shadows. From his hiding spot, he could see his partner sitting on a vacant bench; a look of badly veiled annoyance masking his young face.

To put it simply, Hisoka was bait . . . again. His job, as said bait, was to lure in the pyscho serial killer and go with him to where-ever; while, staying out of sight, Tsuzuki would follow and stop the murderer before anything would go wrong. It was so simple . . . or so they'd thought.

It'd been hours since the team had taken their places; Hisoka would get up and walk around every now and again so he wouldn't look so suspicious. Tsuzuki on the other hand hadn't moved since he'd gotten into position; nothing would distract him this night, they would catch the killer and then they'd be able to go home; where he'd take a nap and sink his teeth into something sweet. To be honest, he couldn't wait for this to be over.

Tsuzuki's amethyst eyes watched as Hisoka got up from his spot on the bench again, quickly heading into a random shop and towards the men's restroom. Whether it was a strategically planned decoy or he'd really had to go, Asato didn't know. Not that it really mattered, either way he knew where his partner was.

Lost in his own world, Tsuzuki didn't notice the presence behind him until it was too late. A strong, cold hand wrapped around him, clasping over his nose and mouth with a thick cloth as his body was slammed into a firm chest.

"I hope you haven't forgotten about me," Muraki hissed into Tsuzuki's ear before his prisoner's entire world crumbled into the darkness that was his personal hell.

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Muraki stared at his revenge quietly; his cat eyes taking in every inch, every movement, and every notable observation possible. This man, his love, would finally bring him the final piece of the puzzle he'd needed.

The doctor continued to watch as his victim's face would move or twitch, slowly coming back to life. And he realized something; he no longer wanted to rip that body apart and place it on another's head. No, no, no; he was going to use this body for something else, something much more pleasurable.

Muraki chuckled silently to himself as he peeled Asato's dress shirt off of his toned body and threw it into the pile of the already discarded clothing. He quietly licked his pale lips, as he continued to move his stare from Tsuzuki's well-toned chest to the top of his ebony trousers. After fumbling with the leather belt, he was able to unbutton and unzip the pants and tug them off the firm body. Oh, this was too easy.

The doctor watched with sadistic glee as his love lay helplessly on the futon. By the time Asato was only clad in his boxer-briefs Muraki had already gotten his toys out to play with and his prisoner was finally awakening.

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Tsuzuki's body shivered with goose bumps as a cool yet warm draft wafted over his naked torso. It wasn't until his amethyst eyes opened did he know what the cause of said draft was. Muraki smirked at his victim with a Cheshire grin as he drew in another breath and released it over Tsuzuki's firm, pink nipple.

"You sleep well, lovely?" The captor chuckled in a pleased manner as Tsuzuki glared with hardened eyes. "Don't be that way. I'm sure the both of us will have lots of . . . fun," he breathed softly, allowing his warm, bare hands to graze against his captive's cotton clad, sleeping cock; eliciting a small, albeit noticeable, moan from the brunette. His grin increased, "Oh, what a good boy."

Tsuzuki gave an un-amused hiss, seemingly out of his brief pleasured daze, he attempted to use his arms in order to shove the silver-blond man away only to hear the all too recognizable chink of metal against metal. Trailing his eyes up and away from his abuser; his eyes rest on the distinctive steel cuffs wrapped around his slim wrists. By the looks of them, they'd withstand just about anything. His violet eyes continued to take in the expanse of the room as Muraki made simple amusement of his vulnerable body.

The walls looked strong and sturdy, clearly made from some sort of concrete, the floor as well; though on the side he was located had rough, badly stained carpet. There were no windows and Muraki didn't look as though he'd be concerned that they'd be over heard. To Tsuzuki's mild surprise, this wasn't the old lab; but some secret hide out he'd never seen before. His eyes glanced to the right of Muraki; towards Tsuzuki's legs, lay an assortment of the doctor's weapons. In other words, he was screwed in more ways than one.

Muraki continued to play and tamper with his victim's body as the brunette took in his surroundings. His pale fingers would smooth over the brunette's nipple one moment only to twist it sharply the next. Turning towards Asato's long, lean legs, the doctor looked over his toys deciding which one to play with first; he had so many choices after all. There was the whip, his personal favorite, but there was also his double edged dagger that seemed to do wonders on its victims. Which one, which one?

Grinning evilly, a motion that effectively drew back Tsuzuki's attention, Muraki grabbed his dagger. Oh, the fun was about to begin; he owed Tsuzuki one good stab after all, didn't he?

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A whimpering cry echoed the room as Muraki's blade cut into the soft but firm flesh of Asato's cock. By this time, Tsuzuki was completely nude; his under garments having been cut away hours ago; but now Muraki continued to allow his blade to put little nicks as well as long, shallow - but fiercely stinging - cuts along his length. And though he'd started out strong, Tsuzuki could only take so much and he'd crumbled not too long after Muraki'd started hacking into his flesh and he couldn't help but be utterly ashamed as his body gained pleasure throughout it all. It had been easy to subside at first, what with there being more pain than pleasure; however, as time went on Muraki was sure to give his prisoner some pleasure. A smooth stroke here, a teasing tug there; and he didn't fight off his captor as the sadistic man leaned forward to place a loving kiss upon his lips, using his tongue to please the inside of his sweet cavern.

Crimson blood was absorbed into the futon as Tsuzuki was gently flipped over and eased onto his belly. His sore, hard prick rubbed against the cushiony surface and he let out a warning hiss; letting his abuser know he clearly wasn't enjoying this part.

Muraki gave a soft sigh, allowing his warm, smooth hands to rub gentle circles into his love's back. Odd though it was, but the doctor really didn't want his little victim to completely hate this experience. No, he was just showing his sweetheart that he, in fact, would be the submissive little uke while Muraki would always be his controlling and dominant seme.

Tsuzuki's breathing, though still heavy and deep, slowed to a more natural pace rather than the panicky pants it had been just moments before. He hated to admit it, but there was something about Muraki's touch that made the shinigami want to cringe and fight, but also relax into the man.

Muraki's hands stopped rubbing as he lent forward and allowed his lips to softly graze Tsuzuki's spine, feeling as the younger male relaxed under his touch. He smiled softly, placing a kiss just above his bum before taking the dagger in his hand and cutting him in that exact spot; and he listened sweetly as Asato gave a loud cry and thrust himself against the futon, mixing the pain and pleasure together into a shamefully glorious mixture. Asato gave a whimpering moan; of all the shameful and horrible things he'd done . . . to receive pleasure from this was his lowest.

Muraki grinned as he stripped himself of all this clothing and mounted his lover's rear. Using Tsuzuki's warm blood as a lubricant, he whispered in an evilly seductive voice, "This is the only form of love you'll ever know; now submit to me," as he gave a punctuating thrust forward.

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A/N: The end? I'm hoping that wasn't utter garbage (crosses fingers); though it was my longest fan-fic yet at FOUR full pages! Reviews = Love