Pairings: EyesKanone, EyesChase, EyesKiyotaka, JackChase, AyumuKousuke
A/N: As with The Happiness Of Those Who Believe, I'm going to start editing this fic for spelling errors and the like.
"Wake up, you lazy bums!" Chase screamed as he looked aorund in disgust at his surroundings. He was standing in a small, poorly constructed, wooden shack that smelled of dirt, sweat, and other unmentionable substances. Some lumps on the dirt floor of the shack started to slowly move, and he kicked one of them near his feet, "Hurry up! I don't give you food and shelter so you can lay around all day."
The lump near his feet that had been kicked silently groaned and jumped up, wincing at the pain in his ribs. Chase saw this and punched the small boy in front of him in the same spot. The boy gasped and stared at the floor, "I'm sorry, Master, for being asleep. Please, forgive me."
Chase grinned at the apology, "It better not happen again. Now get to work."
The small boy nodded and quickly ran outside into the blinding sun, closing his eyes briefly for one more second of peace before he got to work. He tried to take a deep breath of fresh air, which he was often deprived of, but couldn't manage due to a few broken ribs. He shuddered at the memory of his particular injury.
Flashback
"Stop." The boy whimpered softly. He had hoped it was soft enough that the man above him hadn't heard, but, of course, he had.
Chase slowed the thrusting movement he was making with his hips long enough to smirk at the boy, "Stop? You mean you're not enjoying this?" He began shoving himself in and out again, making his victim whimper once more.
"Please." He begged. He couldn't help himself now, he wanted it to stop. His pleas only seemed to motivate Chase to pump harder and faster, hurting him
ll the more. He quickly realized this and just burried his face in the pillow, trying to find comfort in the softness. The only time he ever felt any sort of softness was when Chase called him into his bedroom to have his way with him. Usually the boy was smart enough not to object, but tonight he couldn't help but wish for relief from the pain.
Chase moaned out his release and pulled out of the boy. He rolled over and a few seconds later glared at the other person, "Why are you still here? I'm done with you so get out of my sight, you disgusting thing." The boy didn't move quite fast enough, and Chase grabbed his wrist. He threw the much smaller boy to the floor and stepped on his ribcage, slowly adding pressure.
"I-I'm sorry. Please, forgive me, Master." Was the only response that came. The boy had learned long ago that tears were a powerful motivator, and that they should be avoided at all costs. So, instead of crying, he just closed his eyes tightly and tried to keep his breathing steady. This, he found, was useless because the air was being forced out of his lungs by the foot of the other man.
Chase didn't stop until he felt the satisfying crack of underdeveloped ribs under his foot. The sound of pained gasps and cracking seemed to satisfy Chase because he let up and crawled back into bed. The boy got the message and quickly left the appropriately nicknamed Room From Hell.
End Flashback
The boy quickly got to work, putting all other thoughts aside. He worked in a field, picking cotton and doing other various chores. There was no shade and he worked from dawn to dusk with little water and less food. Fainting resulted in severe beatings, but it was the only escape from the constant pain; breaks were simply unheard of. He worked several hours before the usual dizziness set in. He glanced around to make sure Chase was nowhere in sight, and then closed his eyes and stood still for a second until the extreme exhaustion went away. Then everything went red.
The boy woke up in a small, dark room. his head was throbbing and he was thankful that the room was pitch black and silent. He concluded that he must have blacked out, but when he tried to move his arms he found that he was chained to the wall he was leaning against. Fear seeped throughout his body as he realized that he hadn't blacked out; rather, he had been knocked out. But who would knock him out? What had he done? Then he realized he had closed his eyes for a second, and Chase must have seen him not working. A few seconds after this realization sunk in, the door swung open to reveal the devil himself. His eyes glowed with malice, "So, finally decided to wake up, did you?" The boy stayed silent, looking down so that he didn't make eye contact; Chase hated that more than anything, "Answer me when I talk to you, slave!" He bellowed, reaching out and smacking the defenseless boy.
The latter winced, but did nothing else except what he was told, "I'm sorry, Master." It wasn't exactly an answer but it was all that he was allowed to say.
"Damn right you're sorry." This time he kicked the already bruised face, "And what exactly were you thinking disobeying me like that?"
The boy shook involuntarily, dirt and blood staining his once perfect features, "I'm so sorry." He repeated, "It was foolish of me, I wasn't thinking clearly." He stopped talking immediately before he said too much; Chase also hated people who talked too much.
Chase just chuckled, "You weren't thinking clearly?"
The boy shook his head, "No, sir."
Chase laughed out loud at this, then suddenly stopped. He grabbed the boy's chin roughly in his hand and jerked the delicate face upwards to arrive inches away from his own. It was the first time that Chase had seen the boy's eyes and noticed that they were very blue. They may have been stunning at one point in his life, but they were dull now; most likely from years of neglect and malnourishment. Not that it mattered, "I don't allow you to live here so you can think. You're here to work, understand me?"
The boy had quickly adverted his eyes so he didn't make contact. He tried to nod, but Chase's hand made sure he didn't move so instead he just answered, "Yes, sir. It will never happen again. I'm sorry."
"You'd better be. And look at me when I'm talking to you; it's rude not to." The boy quickly snapped his eyes towards Chase's. He didn't want to hesitate or else he would get hit, but he didn't know exactly what to do; Chase had instructed everyone to never look at him under any circumstance, he said that they weren't good enough to gaze upon him. On the other hand, the boy didn't want to disobey an order and seem disrespectful; either way he was in for a severe beating, he was sure of that. Chase glared at him, "I ever catch you slacking off on your duties again, and you'll starve to death. As for this time, no dinner for a week, and meet me in my room tonight, I have a little pent up frustration from some slave that was slacking off." He released the boy's chin and his head immediately went down to it's usual position, once again, staring at the floor. Chase got up to leave, but paused first, grabbing what looked like a wooden club with some spikes attached to the end, "Oh, and before I forget." He turned around and ended back up in front of the boy, "Never make eye contact with me again, you piece of shit!" With that he brought the club down and mercilessly beat the boy until he was bloody from head to toe, blood seeping from large gashes centered around his chest and arms. The boy just kept his eyes shut, knowing that someday there would be an end to this pain.