A CRK Fiction starring Asa Pike, Manfred Bloor, and Maurice Bloor (OC)
By Silver deFamine and some help from Suchan, who isn't much a fan of drama.
Rating: M for thematic elements, trauma, violence, gore, plotting, abuse, you know, the usual.
Warnings: SLASH. Which means boy on boy. Lemony fresh….is there any more ways to describe it? Homosexuality. Yeah. That's about it. So anyway, if I get any flames, I'm sending you my Dear Flamers letter and putting you on my wall of flame at my website, which you can find on my bio. And so, in summary, Flames are not appreciated unless they're Leo, Aries and Sagittarius.
Some notes before we begin: Someone's revelation (I'm sorry I've forgotten, it's been a while. It was mentioned during the progress of Cheaters, which was ages ago.) that I "play the runaway Asa" card a lot hit me like a load of bricks. I thought about it for a long, long while, and realised I loved my fictional public school of Wilmington High too much, and Dale along with it. So there may appear some more chapters of Magnetism or maybe an entirely new slightly AU story.
However. Asa will not be "running away" this time. I've also made some changes to their characters and will be introducing an OC (maybe a few) later on.
So. This is going to probably be a lot darker than my other fics, so if you want to comfort yourself with a flashlight while you're reading it, that's your choice.
Homophobes and antifags, this is your last warning. Stay out of my way and I won't have to verbally abuse you. Everyone else, I really hope you enjoy this first attempt at (actually) branching out into a new genre.
Scars: Chapter 1
Asa winced, turning a page in his math book. The wounds on his hands from that fight with the dog the other night were channeling pain through every vein in his body. Stupid dog. Stupid Eustacia. He hated every one of Charlie's stupid great-aunts. Who knew if he was going to be able to have full use of his hands ever again?
Manfred looked up at him suddenly, and Asa glanced at him. But the head boy only looked away, back at his own homework. Asa returned his thoughts to his homework for a moment or two before wondering what Manfred had wanted. Maybe he was just making sure everyone was doing their homework.
Manfred had sort of double standards. Rule breaking was unforgivable for everyone else, but he felt himself above the law. He'd justified this to Asa before. "In order to keep the peace, some people have to free themselves from the constraints of rules that everyone else has to keep to." Manfred had looked at him with an exasperated expression. "It doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense to you now. Just… keep in mind, there's sometimes we need to break some rules to keep people in line."
Asa had nodded, not fully understanding, but trusting Manfred's judgement. Whatever. It was dinner time, and he was hungry.
A cough brought Asa back out of his memories and into the King's Room, where he sat, twirling a strand of his shoulder-length red hair around an unbandaged finger. He looked up to where Billy Raven was having a bit of an allergy attack or something. Then he settled down, and Asa looked back at his book.
Zelda was staring longingly at Manfred. Kind of disgusting. Zelda was a bitch, and Manfred hated her. Not out loud, of course, but muttered when she'd walked away after being stupid at him. Still, unrequited love sucked, and Asa almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Not quite. Lop off her arm first, then maybe.
Maybe not even then. Asa corralled his wandering thoughts and forced himself to focus on his algebra homework. It was hopeless. He was hopeless. He'd have to talk to Mr. Wilson tomorrow. Maybe find a tutor or something, as long as it wasn't Zelda.
The bell [clock? sounded for the end of homework hour and everyone packed up to leave. "Asa," Manfred said quietly. Zelda was hovering near the door, obviously waiting for Manfred, after everyone else had gone. "Shoo," he said, waving her away. "Asa and I need to talk…alone."
She pouted, but left with a sing-song, "I'll see you later, darling!"
"Will you knock it off?" Manfred shouted after her. But the door closed almost mockingly and Manfred let out a sigh of disgust. "Stupid bitch," he muttered.
"Per usual," Asa said, unconcerned. "So what's up?"
"How are your hands?"
Asa was a bit taken aback by this. Manfred hadn't ever taken an interest in his—or anyone else's—well-being before. "Um, healing…I guess." He frowned. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Fine," Manfred said airily, reaching out for Asa's hand. Asa let him take it, unwind the bandage. Manfred frowned. The skin around the stitched-up lacerations was bruised purple and an almost-healed green in some places. "Jesus. Vicious dog."
"Well, it was kind of a big dog. Almost as big as…" he hesitated, then finished lamely, "Well, you know." Me. He didn't want to say it, make anything awkward by mentioning his endowment. It wasn't exactly his pride and joy. Asa desperately wished he was normal. But he was stuck, and so were the rest of the endowed. Guess I'd better just lump it then.
"The Hound of the Baskervilles?" Manfred had a rare, wry smile on his face.
Asa smiled and shook his head. "Not near that big," he corrected as Manfred wrapped the bandage back around his hand. "Maybe a large wolf." Manfred was still holding his hand. "Um, Manfred?"
"Oh," he said, letting go of Asa's hand. "Sorry. Anyway. Still no sign of the Bells?"
Asa sighed. "No. I'll let you know if I learn anything."
Manfred nodded. "Good night, Asa."
"Night." Asa watched as Manfred left, then looked back at the table. He stuffed his math book in his bag and slung it over his shoulder, heartily confused by what had just taken place. Manfred wasn't ever that warm. Indeed, the boy was the human icicle, as lacking in warmth as Anne Rice's vampires; cold as the dark side of the moon. Why should he care about anyone? It wasn't like he had to. It wasn't like his family much cared about him.
Asa shut the door to the King's Room behind him and started down the hallway towards his dormitory. There were children shuffling around still, and hurried footsteps behind him made him shift over to the left side of the stairs. Zelda pushed past him, snuffing heavily as though she were trying not to sob.
"Whoa! You okay, Zelda?" Not that he cared, but anyway. She turned around furiously and glared at him, tears dripping off her cheeks.
"Don't talk to me, you…you pig!"
Asa straightened up indignantly as she stormed off. "Well!" he muttered. Wonder if Manfred had finally gotten through to her that he hated her. That was probably it. There wasn't much else that would make Zelda cry like that. He didn't like her at all, but he felt kind of sad for her, anyway. He knew what it was like to be hated by someone you loved.
:P
Asa hid in the stairwell, in the shadow of the wall, listening to his parents fighting. It wasn't anything unusual, but tonight's conflagration was threatening to burn down the house. He felt worse than usual, because they were arguing about him.
"Why, Celia? He can't even go to a goddamned school without being laughed at." Mom had been upset over Asa's getting in a playground fight at kindergarten. "It's not like it's anything usual."
There was silence for a while. "You don't care, do you?" Asa's father didn't say anything. "You don't care about him, or about me." It wasn't a question. There was a sob.
"Celia…"
"No! You don't! You never did! Your own son, Alex!"
"Alright, you want me to admit it?" His father's voice got louder. "Fine! I don't care about him! The kid's a freak! Yellow animal eyes, pointed ears? No wonder he's the laughingstock of the whole fucking playground." Asa cringed, his eyes filling with tears. He'd never heard his father use that word before. Or call him a freak. Little Asa hugged his knees to his chest. "Can you really blame me for not wanting to be seen in public with that…that thing? Jesus Christ, Celi—"
"Out." His mother's voice was quiet, and commanding, and seemed to be holding back her fists, her words, her sobs.
"Celia—"
"I said, GET OUT!" she screamed. "You get out of this house and don't you dare ever show your face again."
"You can't kick me out of my own house."
"WATCH me." It was then that Asa sneaked back up the stairs and went into his room. He hid under his covers. The soft sliver of moonlight coming in through a crack in his curtains lit up a tear on his face. He wiped it away, but even more returned to take its place.
A few minutes later, his door was pushed open, and a shadow fell across the bed. Asa waited, fearing that it would be his father. "Asa, baby?" It was Mom. Asa pulled the covers off his face and looked at her. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. Did we scare you?" Asa just hugged his mother closely, as tight as his little seven-year-old arms could. Celia held him gently, stroking his hair. After a while, she said, "Daddy's gone away. He won't be coming back for a long, long time."
I know, Asa thought. But he didn't say it. She hurt enough as it was. He just clung onto her for dear life.
:P
Asa flung his bag down by his narrow bed, pulled off his shirt and shoes and climbed under the covers. "Lights out!" snapped Matron, and flipped the switch, drowning the children in darkness. Asa's eyes quickly adjusted to the sliver of moonlight coming in through the window, through the cracks in the curtains. He turned away from the window, towards the rest of the dorm and pulled the comforter up over his shoulders. Closed his eyes painfully.
He hadn't thought about his father, Alex Pike, for a long, long time. He wondered what he was doing now, where he was. "Probably has a nice normal wife and beautiful normal children," Asa muttered bitterly.
"Who?" came a sleepy mumble from the next bed over.
"Wasn't talking to you, Julian. Go back to sleep."
"Aw'right." Julian's eyes closed, and Asa began counting all the bedposts in the room to get his mind off—shh. Enough of that.
Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four…
:P
End Ch 1.
What did you think? I've been trying to keep to a minimum of 1500 words (of actual story) per chapter so they'll be longer. I hate tiny chapters.
So. If you liked it, review, if you didn't, let me know if there's something could be done better. If you're going to flame me, just hit your damn back button and save me a few minutes, would you please? Jesus. Anyway. Thanks for reading.