Note(s): Ah. Don't even ask where this came from. I just had the idea, and then... Whoosh, here it is. I'm actually happy with the way it turned out. The ending is somewhat weak, in my opinion, but it gets the point across.

Oh, wait. There's a point? Well, perhaps. Some hidden message about the strength of one's heart and such. Figure it out yourself, luff. But yes, most of this is strictly a PWP, save for the bit of character insight and the "moral of the story". Other than that, I just felt like torturing Riku. x3

Originally, I was actually going to have Ansem make an appearance instead of the tentacles, but I scrapped that. It's much scarier if you can't see him, right? Right? Oh, shut up.

That being said, off you go! 'Hope it's not too bad!

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts and all related characters are property of Square Enix. I claim no ownership to them.

There was a voice. Always a voice. When he woke, when he slept, when he was around others. It was always there, always plaguing him with thoughts of darkness, whispered dreams of evil creatures and possession. How he could be great and powerful if he only gave in to the darkness, if he only left his so-called 'friends' behind.

Those friends had betrayed him, the voice said, they'd abandoned him in his time of need, forgotten about him as he tried to fight his way back to them, neglected to help him when he needed them most.

Those people couldn't be friends, now could they? the voice reasoned, tone mocking inside his head.

I'm the only one here for you now, it murmured as if comforting him, only I care about you, and if you'd just let me out...

He didn't listen, no, he never listened. He fought the voice every moment, fought that presence constantly lurking in the back of his mind. He never gave in, never. He wouldn't. He couldn't. If the voice won, it was over. Everything would end.

He couldn't let that happen, so he fought.

Yes, Riku fought with everything he had.

Today was different, though. Today, there was no voice.

Needless to say, it unnerved him. There had only been one other time when it had been silent, and he'd been possessed by that presence later and ended up nearly killing one of the people closest to him. An experience like that gave him good reason to be afraid, wary of what would happen if the voice didn't speak.

Therefore, when he'd woken up and not heard a single word from the voice, he'd fled, run from the safety of his temporary home and traveled as far as he could before night had fallen. He'd taken up a room in one of the town's rundown motels, not caring about the status of the living space as long as he was away, far away from anyone that knew him.

And so here Riku was, sitting on the rickety bed, still dressed in his long black coat, the hood hanging around his shoulders. His shoulder-length hair was left barren to the room, the silvery locks glistening in the faint light coming from the flickering bedside lamp. His turquoise-colored eyes were focused on the worn carpet below, just as they had been an hour ago.

He'd been sitting here since he'd arrived, waiting, simply waiting for something to happen. Would the voice speak to him, mock him for falling for such a pathetic trick, or would it take control, use his body to slaughter the innocent townspeople just for the sake of killing something?

He didn't know. Nothing had happened yet, and he was beginning to doubt that anything would.

Had he panicked for no reason? Was he really so paranoid, so quick to assume the worst when the voice in his head was silent?

A soft, tired sigh escaped through Riku's pale lips, sounding much too loud in the quiet room. He was wasting his time, sitting here pointlessly. Nothing was going to happen. The voice was gone today, that was all. Shouldn't he be thinking of it as a blessing, and not a warning of worse things to come?

Finally tearing his gaze away from the floor, Riku stood, crossing the room toward the small bag he had brought with him. It contained just a set of pajamas and a few necessities, but he was only interested in the former. Sleep sounded like a good idea.

He began to undress, slipping off the trench coat and hanging it on the rusty hook that was attached to the back of the door. The rest of his clothing wasn't given as much thought, instead being tossed to the ground unceremoniously. However, he did take the time to set his boots against the wall, having no desire to trip over them.

He dug around in the bag until he pulled out a pair of baggy sweat pants and a T-shirt, putting both items on before walking back to the bed. The shirt was tighter than he would've liked, clinging to his torso while still giving him room to move without ripping the seams. The pants seemed to make up for that, though, considering that they were big enough to obscure his feet from view.

With a tug, the thin covers came free and with them came a layer of dust, which sent Riku into a sneezing fit. When the cloud had settled down, he crawled into the bed, shivering as the frigid sheets closed around his frame. They smelled musty and old, as if it had been decades since they'd been washed or even tended to, and that was probably true, if the dust had been anything to judge by.

Leaning out of the bed, he reached over to the lamp, flicking the switch so that the sputtering glow went out, plunging the room into darkness.

As soon as the light was turned off, Riku became aware of the utter silence in his head, the way his heartbeat echoed within his chest, how his breathing seemed much too loud to be normal. Shuddering again, he wrapped the blankets tighter around his body, willing himself to believe that everything would be fine.

The voice was gone, that was all. Gone, not here to disturb him. Whether it would come back or not, he wasn't sure, but right now it wasn't here, so that was all that mattered.

He took a deep breath, curling up in the bed. Everything would be fine.

When his left hand began to slide down his chest, Riku didn't notice, his mind already hazed with sleep. He was so tired; the day had been so long, so full of panic and fear, and so when his hand slipped beneath the waistband of the sweat pants to trace patterns on the inside of his thigh, he didn't question it, instead relishing in the sudden pleasurable feelings coursing through him.

However, when that hand began to run its fingers between his legs, rubbing and massaging, his eyes snapped open, the cerulean orbs reflecting terror within their depths. He tried to pull away, tried to pull the hand out, but it didn't budge, didn't move at all. Nothing he did had any effect.

This was not good, not good at all. The voice obviously wasn't planning to possess to kill this time. No, it seemed to be possessing him for entirely different reasons, reasons that made his mind instantly cloud with dread.

His body, though, reacted eagerly to the unexpected ministrations, fingers now gliding over hardening flesh. He fought back a moan, fear and the fact that he had lost all feeling in that hand keeping him from giving in to it. Nevertheless, he was writhing, features flushed as the fingers continued to stroke him, growing more aroused with every bit of contact. Light brushes over the tip, circles drawn over the base, tickling caresses scattered over the shaft. His clothes suddenly felt too hot, tiny beads of sweat beginning to trickle down his skin.

Oh, my little Heartless, did you honestly believe that I was gone...?

Riku gasped, both from shock at hearing the voice and the fact that the hand had finished with the feather-like touches, instead encompassing him completely. This time, he did moan, attempting to muffle it by pressing his face into the sheets.

I can make it stop, if you'd like... You need only let me out...

"Never," he managed to bite out. In response, the hand tightened its grip, and he was unable to stop from thrusting forward. The resulting friction was enough to throw his head back, enough to draw a strained keening noise from him.

Silly, silly little one... Don't be so difficult.

The hand began to move up and down the length of him, his body instinctually following with frantic thrusts. His breathing was quickening, lips parting in a silent gasp as pressure was applied to the tip again, sending him into a frenzied bucking movement that threw the covers off of the bed. It felt wonderful, overwhelmingly exquisite. He couldn't stand it.

You like that, don't you?

One finger dropped away from holding him, languidly running its nail over the rim. He clenched his eyes shut as if that would help to keep himself in check, ignoring the small whimpers that were fighting their way out of his throat. But as soon as the finger started to knead the tip, he lost that control, lost it completely as that finger nudged and pressed. He began to convulse, not noticing that his right hand had gone numb as he continued to be fondled. His head jerked to the side, legs forcing his arousal against the encircling hand.

The single indication that something else was happening was the touch against the small of his back, but that escaped notice as nails began to rake gently across the sensitive flesh, delicately teasing yet intense enough to drive him mad. He groaned and gasped, whined and cried out, eyes unfocused and breathing erratic.

The only warning Riku had was the sharp prodding at his entrance, and then something had shoved itself inside of him. Pain interrupted the haze of pleasure, changing his keening into a choked scream. He tried to pull away, tried to slip from it. It was then that he became aware that he had lost all feeling in his other hand, and that his right arm was twisted behind his back at a rather awkward angle.

Of course, if you refuse to release me... I could have you fuck yourself like this, dry and painful...

As if to emphasize the last point, the finger worked its way out slowly before driving back in, leaving a trail of burning fire to course up his spine. This time, he really screamed, once again using the mattress to smother the sound. It hurt, it hurt so much...

But he couldn't give in. Couldn't let the voice out.

As the pain cleared enough to let him think, Riku smirked, coughing a little before replying.

"Do your worst, bastard."

For a moment it was still, it was silent, but that didn't last long. A soft, Very well, echoed through his mind, and then all he knew was sheer agony.

The fire seemed to be spreading across his flesh, blazing hot as it traveled over him. At first, it was too devastating for him to make a sound, rendering his voice useless. Ultimately, though, reaction returned to him, and a long, drawn-out wail tore itself from his throat, bringing the torture he felt to life as a thin nail dug into one slick side.

The first finger had been joined by a second, and both thrust into him vigorously, leaving him struggling and shrieking. His shirt was drenched with sweat, his pants having been drawn down to his knees without his consent. Tears had formed immediately, leaving the turquoise orbs shimmering in the dark, but he didn't allow them to fall. He wouldn't show weakness, even if he had to scream himself hoarse.

His head slammed back against the bed as a third finger forced its way past that tight ring of muscle, the pace slowing down as his opening was stretched to accommodate all three of the intrusions. His form trembled as he screeched and thrashed about, eyes falling shut once again in order to keep the tears at bay.

This time, however, the fingers didn't return to that powerful rhythm, instead trying to work their way within his body, scrambling to reach as far as they could. He bit his tongue as they rubbed against that inner skin, the feeling lost as they continued to expand him.

He shuddered violently as the smallest finger on the hand entered as well in an attempt to push its fellows deeper. A cry of pure torment erupted from him, reverberating off of the walls while the fingers still fought against his resistance, straining to completely penetrate the confines of his body. He sobbed, voice ragged and broken, and the sound was replaced with screaming once more.

With a final thrust, the hand rammed itself home, finally hitting that single spot inside of him, that one spot that would turn everything to pleasure. And just like that, as if a switch had been flipped, the pain began to mix with something else, something that caused him to push back against that hand, something that changed his shrieks into deep, guttural moans.

That's right, give into it, give into me

Riku barely noticed as the hand in front resumed its clutching, massaging the shaft until he was brought back to full arousal. The fingers buried within him alternated between colliding against that spot and working, molding it, sending waves of mind-numbing sensation through every inch of him. His head spun, and though it still hurt, he felt utmost bliss alongside the terrible pain, the ecstasy enough that he forgot his current situation, unable to think at all.

He didn't know how long the cycle went, squeezing at the front simultaneous with shoves at the back. He was torn between thrusting into the circle of fingers stroking him and impaling himself on the ones touching him so forcefully in such an intimate place, leaving him moaning in frustration. His eyes remained shut, the lids too heavy to lift.

There was a single, perfectly timed motion that left his entire body ablaze and sent him into convulsions, a shattering erotic cry breaking free from his lips and filling the room. All too soon he was coming, one hand wringing him for every last drop while the other danced inside, prodding and throwing his mind away in utter delight.

And then it had ended. Both hands slipped away from him, and he lay shivering on the sheets, drenched with sweat and other things. For a moment, he stayed still, gasping for breath and trying to calm his heartbeat down.

It had happened so fast... So fast. He hadn't gotten the chance to even think, let alone try to escape.

Then again, how can one escape their own hands without slicing them off? That being said and done, he'd still have to flee from his mind, and while he seemed to be sharing it at the moment, it wasn't something he would so easily part with.

Despite the silence in his head, he knew that the voice was still there, still hanging around and waiting for him to make his move. He could feel it, biding its time. No doubt, it wouldn't remain that way for long.

It still wanted to come out, of course.

He eventually registered the icy air, the sudden temperature change not making much sense to him. The room was freezing to him, so much colder than it had been earlier. It shouldn't have been this cold, though, not even if the sweat coating his skin was chilling...

Something was wrong.

With that thought, Riku's eyes snapped open, taking a moment to adjust. Once they had, he regretted it, his breath catching in his throat. Not out of enjoyment this time, but out of horror.

The room was filled with dark tendrils that were writhing and crawling over everything. The floor had been hidden from view, the black creatures obscuring it completely. They had no discernable start or end, sinking into one another as if they were all made of water. Not one was the same size as another; some long and thin, others unbelievably thick and strong. And considering the slithering feelings that were most definitely not his doing, they had covered the bed, too.

Riku only stared in astonishment, shuddering as one of the creatures rubbed against his back. They were all slick with something, leaving trails of invisible liquid behind that he felt even through the fabric of his shirt. "What the hell...?"

Don't you like them? I figure that if merely possessing you will not win me freedom, my pets might. Aren't they glorious, my little Heartless?

He growled softly, "I am not a Heartless, and I'm not anything of yours."

Well, we'll have to see about that, won't we?

Before Riku could say anything else, the tendrils stirred, brushing against him, covering his ruffled clothing and available skin with that slime that he couldn't see, but knew was there. However, he didn't linger on that, as the snake-like things had already converged on his prone form.

Most of them slipped underneath his clothing, whatever muscles they had taught, unlike they'd been a second or so ago, loose and lethargic. Now, they were vigorous, scuttling about with energy that apparently came from nowhere. Several more traveled to his arms and legs, wrapping themselves around wrists and ankles. And with that, they began to maneuver him into a spread-eagled position, revealing that amazing strength had been concealed in their fragile-looking bodies.

Riku tensed, trying to pull back as each limb was secured around a separate post of the tiny bed, knowing that this was a terribly bad position to be in. He couldn't defend himself, not at all. He was helpless, truly helpless.

The ones covering him beneath the clothing suddenly tensed, the action soon followed by a ripping noise. The next thing Riku knew, shreds of both the shirt and the sweat pants were drifting back to the mattress, and he was absolutely frigid. The snake-things didn't help, which were the exact opposite of warm, as were their slimy trails. He shivered uncontrollably, cold-hardened nipples now sensitive and quite aware of the rubbing against them.

I will offer you one last chance to release me. Otherwise, I will go ahead and "do my worst".

Riku shook his head, refusing even as his body suddenly became responsive to the writhing and crawling shapes that swarmed across it. "You can take that offer and shove it up your ass."

A sigh came, but it held no remorse or reluctance. If anything, it was gleeful, singsong. I am hoping that you will enjoy this.

He snarled, the effect somewhat ruined by the fact that he was quickly becoming aroused, the corresponding hardness following with a vengeance. He was soon thick and throbbing, the snarl dying away into a furious moan. "I hate you."

Oh, but this is only the beginning, little one...

And with that, the creatures began to move, sending shudders through him as they explored what had been made available to them. He attempted one last time to throw them off and run, but the ones holding him constricted him, nearly cutting off his circulation. Gritting his teeth in anger, he came to the conclusion that he was stuck, left helpless to whatever the voice had planned.

However, Riku knew one thing, and of it, he was certain.

No matter what he was put through, he would not surrender.

He would not let that beast out.

A stream of countless tendrils glided down his stomach, passing over delicate hips and creeping along trembling inner thighs before surrounding his length at only the base, circling and circling, tightening their grip until spasms of pain shook him. Unexpectedly, they froze in place, trapping him at the base in aching arousal without any way to free himself. Two tiny ones went even further, weaving around his sac and drawing it off, and then going still and doing nothing more.

Others continued to slip over his body, trailing through his hair and over his flushed face, some daring enough to dip into his mouth. They crept over his thighs, waist, and chest, all so heavy and chill. His breath came out in little mists of white, the panting thunderous in the otherwise quiet room.

He cried out abruptly, sudden sharp pain interrupting the other sensations. The snake-things appeared to have unseen mouths, as one had locked itself over his right nipple. It was sucking at the now sore nub, and was soon joined by another on his left. Swallowing, devouring the tips of the hardened nipples, nibbling with miniature fangs. His back arched, lips parted in a silent gasp as the eager suctioning continued.

In his mind, Riku heard the voice laughing, laughing as its captive struggled to free himself even while enjoying the exquisite pain that he was being subjected to. The chuckling grew in volume every now and then, but it was lost as its pets squirmed along their victim's body.

With a flurry of movement, a multitude of the creatures had swarmed down his chest, descending to his arousal and wrapping it in a frenzy of fondling and caresses, coiling around the hard, raw and hurting shaft, varying in pressure and speed, sucking with those hidden mouths. One slid up to the head, burying itself underneath the foreskin, whirling over that moist and veiled flesh and causing the foreskin to pull tight around it. He had been writhing before, but now he was convulsing, whipping his head back and forth, straining against the bodies holding his arms and legs, bucking in a wild attempt to plunge into that mass of wriggling and clenching.

Despite the unyielding and painful bonds around his balls and arousal, he could feel himself tensing to come, breathing frantic and mixed with high-pitched keening.

No, my little Heartless, you will not end this so soon.

A burning pressure at the head of his erection changed the moaning into a cry of pain, and with the utmost feeling of dread, he realized what was happening. A single tendril, one of the tiniest and thinner than twine, was forcing its way into the miniscule opening at his tip, slowly and excruciatingly moving down into his length. The absolute agony drowned out everything else, unlike anything he'd felt before. The tears that he had fought so hard to contain trailed from his eyes as the creature dived deeper, building the pain as his head spun and his vision blacked, piercing him until the straining from within stretched to the base, to the forms curled around him.

When the tiny thing finally ceased driving itself into him, it was buried completely, not even the end of its tail visible outside of his arousal. Somehow, through the pain, he once again felt the creatures rippling outside, soothing and stroking the firm yet tender flesh beneath them while the tiny one lost within his core twisted stingingly. That burning torture eventually gave way to an intoxicating and pulsating tempo that left him rearing and thrusting, moaning his suffering and fighting desperately to release himself, in every meaning of the word.

The strangled sobs had started again, each sound ending in escalating howling. The throbbing in his erection had grown to such an extreme that it beat alongside the sensuous cadence of the tendrils, his torso slamming back to the bed as it arched and fought over and over again, his mind unable to distinguish the pain from the pleasure.

Release me and I will allow your poor body to do the same.

Riku could only shake his head, incapable of forming coherent words in his current state. His hands formed fists where they were held, suspended high above his head. They clenched even tighter when the snake-things sucking on his nipples readjusted their grip, sending a new spark of bitter-tinged feeling into the chaos.

Somewhere during the overwhelming dance surrounding his shaft, a line of tendrils made its way up from the foot of the bed and over to his writhing body. These ones were thicker than the ones pulsing around him, yet still flexible, judging by how they were slithering toward him so quickly and elegantly. He only caught a small glimpse of them before he was drawn back into the vibrations along and inside his length, a sudden shriek tearing itself from him as the tiny creature buried in his erection nipped at his core with its diminutive teeth. It only lasted a second or two, but it was painful enough to draw more tears from his eyes, the scream dying into a low moan as the little thing rubbed itself over its undetectable bite.

The newcomers trickled down between his legs, slinking past the laboring cluster than wrung his arousal, past the small ones that had remained entwined around the swollen orbs, finally coming to rest beneath him, pooling around his entrance. Without hesitating, one slid into him, and while it wasn't as tight as before, a white-hot wave of pain came forth as its slick form brushed against the clenching skin of his opening, making it obvious that the skin had been torn earlier. Thankfully, the pain vanished after a moment, disappearing as soon as the creature passed through. It hadn't stopped halfway, hadn't pulled out again. No, it had entered him completely just as the one in his core had, settling its entire body into that inner chasm, leaving the entrance free to be breached once more.

And breached it was, as the other ones plunged forward, wriggling against each other, eager to fill him. There was no gradual increase of numbers, all of them forcing their way past to thrust inside at once, though they didn't join their brethren. The stinging returned from the friction as they started to pound into him, but it was lost as the creature inside began to slither around, circling and leaving trails of its coating behind. The pace quickly accelerated, catching up with the rhythm beating against his length. The snake-thing swirled and undulated against the spot within him while it was also rammed against, sending shockwaves through him that ending in him screaming with the need for release. In fact, the throbbing had grown so anguishing that his vision had started to fade, mind spinning in and out of control.

Riku's head fell back, mouth agape as he stared unseeingly at the ceiling. Could he die from this? He wasn't sure, but it felt like it. Nothing made sense, every thought he had lost in the whirlwind of pleasure and pain. He only knew that he was having trouble seeing, having trouble breathing with every scream and moan.

Little one, you need not put yourself through such agony. Just let me out, and you'll be free... Free of this, free of me, free to live your own life.

He shook his head wildly, his answer developing into a piercing shriek without intention. "No!"

A growl sounded in his head, fury trickling past the tender tone it had used before. With it, the tendrils surrounding him constricted, squeezing enough that he barely heard the voice through his scream.

Stop this foolishness now and submit! I must be let out!

"No!"

Give in now! You're killing yourself!

Was that panic he heard? Would his death kill the voice as well? If so, maybe he should die, if only to defeat this threat forever...

"I know that!"

The voice snarled. You foolish boy! How dare you defy me like this!

The throbbing was worse now, so unbearable that Riku couldn't answer, couldn't move his mouth to form words. Something warm was filling his mouth, trickling down his chin in little streams. It tasted coppery, metallic, and he instantly knew that it was blood. He coughed, trying to stop it from coming up his throat. His head was pounding, sight blanking, everything blurring into streams of color like a child's mediocre finger-painting. His voice was hoarse, screeching having died away into quiet whimpers.

But he had won... If he died, so did the voice, and then it couldn't hurt anyone... They'd be safe... Sora, Kairi... Everyone would be safe...

Without warning, that same burning pain came, the tiny creature in his core slipping out, stinging even more as it left. The ones encircling the base vanished, the pressure around his sac disappearing just as quickly. And he was coming, thrusting into that mass of wriggling bodies before he'd realized what was happening. He was screaming, crying, wailing, thrashing and tearing at the bonds that held him to the bed.

And then... it was over.

He collapsed back to the mattress, trying to settle his racing heart. The only sounds in the room were his ragged breathing and the quiet slithering of the tendrils as they slipped away, leaving him alone and shivering.

As soon as he wasn't gasping for air, Riku buried his face in his arms, letting out a soft whimper. He curled up on himself, trying to ignore the blood that trailed from his mouth, down his chest, between his legs. Part of him refused to believe what had just occurred, while the other half knew that it had and was terrified by it.

Lethargically, he tugged the sheets back over his trembling form, knowing he wouldn't be able to do much else. Now that things had calmed down, the soreness was starting to make itself known. He bit his lower lip, pulling his legs up to his chest. It hurt, yes, but it gave him a minimal sense of security, no matter how irrational such a notion was.

He could feel sleep starting to invade his consciousness, forcing back the rapid stream of thoughts. However, just as he was about to lose himself to the bliss of unconsciousness, a single phrase echoed through his mind, haunting and threatening enough that they drove that restful haze away, leaving his eyes wide open in the darkness of the room.

Do not think that you have won so easily, my little Heartless.

-Fin.