WARNING: Dark themes. Possible: Violence/M-rated themes, / molestation, sexual themes/ swearing/ VERY TRIGGERING

In Acrimonious Salvation

PROLOGUE

"Time takes it all whether you want it to or not, time takes it all. Time bares it away, and in the end there is only darkness. Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again." – Stephen King

The Sakura trees had begun to flourish garnishing the schoolyard with its picturesque pink and green luster. Kids hollered their goodbyes to their companions in trifling bliss. Some waited for the bus, while others rode their bicycles, a number of them walked home unaccompanied or in garrulous packs from their highly venerated academy.

The curtains trembled tersely at the diminutive wisp of wind that reeled into the dim - lit classroom on the farthest corner of the massive constitution. Only a thin sliver of light occupied the dark room in a compellingly passive manner. The desks were arranged methodically, numbers were attached to each desk to ensure the paramount of efficiency.

Soft sobs emanated from the dimmest corner of the room, palpitating in a pathetic echo. Two figures were up adjacent to the wall, the bigger shadow pressed against the smaller one in a voracious approach. The male traced his thick fingers alongside the girl's face, trailing from her temple down to her cheeks. His other hand was placed on the wall, next to her head effectively blocking her from escaping. He continued to trace his fingers on her smooth skin; he lingered near her breast which caused the smaller girl to tremor under his touch. This only stimulated his avaricious desire.

"D-Don't…,"Her pallid eyes widened in horror, contrasting harshly with the shadows that danced on her face. She felt his fingers slithering over her stomach, and escaped under her uniform shirt caressing her hips with his callous hands. He pushed closer to her, a gasp escaped her lips, when she felt something thick and protruding through his pants while he rubbed it cruelly against her naked thighs. She regretted not wearing stockings. "S-Sensei, p-please…," Her voice trembled.

"Fuck," He moaned without control. Staring down in to her shirt, he eyed her chest like an unrestrained animal. "You have no idea what you do to me do you?" It wasn't a question.

The girl closed her eyes forcefully, as if she were to will hard enough the man would just vanish. That she was only dreaming this sick nightmare.

He inched closer to her face; his hot breath hit her face profusely. "I want you." A cold shiver ran through her body.

"P-please s-stop this…pl-please…," She pleaded.

His lips loitered over her's lustfully, and without warning he greedily took her mouth. His orifice was chapped, and breaking against her smooth ones. He roughly savored the cherry balm she'd applied, while he nibbled at her bottom lip. She placed her balled fists against his chest, and pushed for him to remove himself. But the man was far stronger, and her thin frame did not stand a chance against him. He only moaned, seemingly getting delight from her struggle. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she felt his tongue trying to force entry in to her mouth.

A door outside the classroom closed with an abrupt jolt, the man immediately released himself from the girl. "Shit."

Taking the chance, she quickly took her bag from a desk and sped her way to the exit. She didn't bother looking back to see if he was fallowing her. Her tears were falling far more rapidly that it soon soaked her shirt. Her footsteps echoed throughout the empty hallway.

Dark eyes stared fixedly at the piercingly sallow ceiling. Silence breached throughout the whole apartment in riotous stillness. The pall curtains had been closed, though some silvers of light were able to penetrate the dreary apartment. The lights had been shut as well, in an attempt to shield his hypersensitive eyes. The phone rang vociferously, effectively breaking him from his hazy contemplation.

He stared up at the clock, it ticked at every second. He noticed that about twenty minutes had passed since he'd fallen in his reverie. The telephone continued to annoyingly ring, as if it had a mind of its own and it wanted to get his attention by any means necessary.

He decided to let the answering machine get the call; he was in no mood to converse. In a few seconds, the phone beeped. It skipped over what was supposed to be his recording and ran straight to the message.

"Yo, teme!" The proverbial voice practically yelled. "Pick up the phone! I know you're home. You're just being a dick." A pause. "Whatever, just call back when you get this message. 'tteboy." Beep. The message ended.

The ebony – locked male decided he would answer the message much later. He stood up from his small couch, and made his way towards his counter, and grabbed his keys. He opted for a much necessitated walk to clear out his jarring thoughts. His head had been throbbing all day. He didn't bother grabbing his sweater; he liked the cool breeze from the spring air.

As he stepped outside, he couldn't help but mentally comment on how disgusting it looked. The sky was a diaphanous beryl, wispy pallid cloud hovered overhead. The spring air blew wistfully; it caressed his face soothingly.

Kids and teenagers his age were running around and talking copiously. It sickened him at how naive and ignorant they were to the real world. Their illusion would soon be wrecked when they entered reality. Where it rained sorrow day and out, where it waned the faint of heart, and broke the meek.

Were they not aware of the high suicide rates in this country this past year?

He wondered how they could so plainly disregard facts in an effort to secure their facades, that's why he cherished watching them when they finally broke. The moments when their fragile worlds just shattered from an unavoidable tragedy, or they just finally cracked when the anxiety and stress finally became just too excruciating.

He shoved his hands in to his pockets, and sustained his walk an arctic look on his attractive face. Girls giggled bashfully, as they pointed at him. They couldn't help but comment on how cool he looked, or how he was probably a model. With his strikingly ebony colored hair and sharp onyx eyes on his pale, smooth face, and six – foot, three – inch frame he could have been. He didn't bother acknowledging them; they were too much of the norm to be remotely fascinating.

A harsh bump knocked him out of his disparaging thoughts, he looked down stridently. A faint aroma of lavender and jasmine hit his senses, it was sickeningly sweet. He saw long tresses so dark they appeared a dark blue - ish hue. The person looked up; her waned eyes were a blotchy red, obviously stained from crying, and rather profusely at that, the lashes were matted from the saturation. Some strands of hair stuck to her inundated face. Her bottom lip was quivering, as if she were stopping herself from screaming. They looked bruised, he spotted a smear of what looked like lip balm.

He hid a smirk from forming on his lips. This was exactly what he took delight in. The girl's eyes were so broken that he had to stop himself from laughing in her face.

She'd probably just been thoroughly ravished and thrown a side by a boyfriend who'd lie to get her in to his bed.

Dumb bitch.

She probably deserved it.

"G-gomen!" She bowed quickly, and made her way past him, running. Her dark mane bounced and swayed at her movements, the wind blew it even more arbitrarily.

Even though she was gone, the faint scent of jasmine and lavender still lingered in the air. And though he held revulsion against the faded sweetness; he savored it auspiciously.

x

Author's Note: This is only the prologue, so that's why it's so short. It has no real attachment to the story, though it does kind of. Sorta. I first need to know if it's good, so I need some feedback. Yeah, that would just be lovely. I've never really written a story like this. It's dark, and yeah. I'm better at light – hearted romantic comedy, or drama. The beginning did have some very triggering aspects, so please if you're susceptible to things like this, don't read it. But if you can tell me if you enjoyed this or not? What can I fix? Review?Ne? A writer, even though she writes for herself, has to know if she's being appreciated ~