Fascination a PapillonCameo and Tachigami rp may contain graphic, violent scenes

Byron Washburn walked the busy streets, his steely grey eyes perusing the people stepping past him with a critical eye. Hands in his pockets tensed all of a sudden as a swatch of dark hair caught his attention. Was that then his next target? The war he waged to protect his kingdom city seemed interminable. Always, new threats made their appearances. An easy going looking business man, well that was a facade, it had been for the last monster until he, Lord Byron, had broken him.

He still couldn't understand why it hadn't transformed at the last when he'd given it the chance. Instead it had taken it's death in a rather undignified manner, crying and sniveling to be set free before the blonde man had ended it's life with a mercy stroke.

That was neither here nor there. Byron had dreamed again, and read to confirm it. There as another threat, and he needed to get it off the streets before it did something horrible, like cause a car accident or inciting some dark soul to murder.

Gabriel Neil Stanley, though having been named after a personification of strength, was certainly not strong. In fact, he was especially weak and insignificant, not exactly someone that a mugger would second guess. He had gone through his share of self defense classes, but was simply not meant for it. He was thin, stringy, and small, and just didn't give off the aura of independence. On the contrary, he was terrified of being alone. Now he sat on a park bench, bare arms warmly tanned from all his hours sitting under the sun, trying to remain as he was but find someone to talk to without seeming too strange or desperate. It was difficult, though, when one longed for some type of companionship.

His therapist had said it came from home, which he felt was typical. His parents, very conservative, very strict, very Christian, had despised him because he had never lived up to their desired expectations---or ideas. His search for unconditional love sent him far and wide, but he had lost hope just recently. All he wanted was a friend, and could only find that in a cat he'd come to house. In his shaded area of the park, a quiet thing surrounded by green grass, he watched parents with their kids, and smiled to himself through a veil of black that fell over one eye. He was still young... He'd have time to find friends...

The long haired man made his way across the street and ambled towards the park. He smiled indulgently as he walked past the parents and their children. They led such wonderful lives, so unaware of the dangers lurking in the shadows, out of sight and out of most people's minds. That was when he saw it, the next target... Byron tugged at his pinstriped vest, then pulled at his sleeves to ensure that his appearance was as befitted his station. Despite the fact that he would be lying, and causing harm, Byron still held pride in how he seemed.

As he walked to the bench where the monster sat in it's deceptively frail disguise, Byron flicked his long braid over his shoulder. He leaned an arm against the bench, his form bent over the creature he intended on capturing and questioning. "Hello. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Gabriel watched him approach from the corner of his eye, an internal battle raging below the surface. He so desperately wanted someone to near him, speak to him, but feared the interaction, what might happen after that. He would die a little inside when the person left, and freeze awkwardly if they decided to stay. But the way he leaned against the bench was so casual it put Gabriel’s mind at slight ease. His words were calm and friendly, and it put a light smile on his face.

“Um, yeah... A-a beautiful day.” He brushed his hair back, but it didn’t last long---it flew back into his face and Gabriel was forced to lift his head to face the stranger clearly. “Summer’s always been my favorite season...” He shut up, trying not to go about blabbering again as he was so prone to doing. It often scared people away. Instead, he moved over a bit. “Er, care to... sit?” He offered, hoping the blonde stranger would.

The gesture was a very sweet one, too sweet. That was how this one worked, by acting like honey it brought it's prey forth. Well enough, Byron would simply have to beat the monster at it's own game. The platinum haired lord moved smoothly, with grace, to slip onto the bench beside his prey. "Care to elaborate on why you like summer so much?" Keep it talking ... Gain it's trust, and try to make it follow him home. It was easiest then, when the monsters didn't struggle.

They usually did end up doing that, later when the questioning began. Byron had begun to enjoy that, the squirming and their whimpering, even though he hated himself for it. Sometimes, he wasn't quite as noble as he hoped to be.

Really? So this stranger wanted him to talk? It was so strange---normally they nodded and found an excuse to wander away, but this particular stranger actually sat beside him. He almost grinned, but shook it away and decided on something a little less relieved. "Er... Well, I find it easy to adapt to... And everything's alive, and green and bright... School is out, and the days... longer..." Gabriel couldn't decide what was the most exciting---that someone was listening to him or that he actually found the courage to go on with what he was speaking of. "When it's warmer, you don't exactly have to pile on the clothes, it's easier to move... When it's cold or cloudy, like winters usually are, it's sad..."

Maybe he thought too much about it. But he did hate winter---the days were short, it was hard to move about in so many layers of clothing, and just difficult to be outside at all. It was so depressing, too, when the skies were an iron gray and ugly, threatening rain or snow and just not delivering, lying about the temperature when it was bright and sunny but a sharp, terrible cold... As he thought about it, Gabriel put a hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating. It was a little faster now that this stranger was actually paying attention to him.

He watched carefully, measuring silently just how far this creature would take it's act. "Winter has it's good points. The air is crisp and fresh. Snowfall is magical ..." Byron drifted off purposefully with a thoughtful expression. Now, what would draw this one in? A lie of course, but what kind? Grey eyes shifted to graze over the man shaped monster.

"I have these pictures I took at my place, of winter. Maybe if you saw them, you'd see why I'm so enchanted with the season." Truth, all of this was no lie. On the other hand, Byron's intentions were quite different from the innocent one he let shine through with sincerity as he smiled. Of course, he didn't come right out and say he was inviting the man to his home. No, much better to let his prey make that suggestion himself.

It was just so perfect. So utterly perfect. Gabriel had a friend... He had to have a friend now... Or some beginnings of friendship. He shook the thought away and turned a bit to face the pale-haired stranger. Of course---he didn't even know the man's name yet and his flights of fancy had decided to peg this possible act of boredom to mean someone was looking to spend time or energy on him... But he'd take it, all of it, any of it.

He shrugged, plucking at his sleeveless maroon shirt a bit---it did have a habit of clinging to him. "I've never... never really found the majesty of winter to be as enthralling... It's more dead, I'd say." A cold shard of dread ran down his spine at the words---maybe he had offended the stranger with that? "But---But, ah, if I could see your collection, I have a feeling I might be swayed..." A clean save? Gabriel hoped so, very much. It was probably a stupid thing to do---ask to follow along someone he just met, go to their house just to look at some winter scenery. But at this point he didn't care. Gabriel wanted something to change and perhaps this was it.

A nervous habit, that he thought was certainly true. An expression of some emotion that even it could not hide, yes that must be what it was. Byron smiled when he heard it speak, accepting his unspoken offer. "Very well then. Follow me." He stood, holding out a hand to his prey. His car wasn't so far away as that. It was only a short walk away.

Then .. then the truth would come out, and the monster would reveal itself. The first monster had disguised itself as a friend, but then the creature had betrayed him and stole away his love. Since that kill, he'd been working diligently on making all the monsters disappear. This one would be his eight.

Gabriel nervously clenched and unclenched his teeth, but otherwise put his hand out, accepting the stranger's and standing. On his wrist a series of black metal bracelets clinked together, and silenced when he bent down to retrieve his light jacket. It was still early in the summer, and evenings did get a bit cool. He wrapped the brown fabric around his waist and knotted it securely, and looked around to the blonde stranger to understand he was, as usual, taller than him. Gabriel was short, yes, shorter than most in his general age group. He wouldn't be getting any taller, being nineteen and beyond puberty.

When he stood straight and followed along, Gabriel's hands reached deep into his pockets or fiddled with the rectangular metal plate that made up his simple necklace. It was engraved with a G, for his name. Suddenly he didn't know what else to say, and remained silent, letting his hair fall over his forehead and eyes and somewhat obscure his vision.

Byron waited, hiding his impatience behind a benevolent smile. He whistled as he guided the other man towards his car, a rather unremarkable thing which blended in with all the other silver cars around. "What's your name?" The question came as he settled down in the driver's seat and leaned over to prop the door open for his passenger.

Once it was settled down, he drove to a gated community on the outskirts of the city. Each lot had plenty of land, and his home was hidden from sight by trees and hedges. The home was quite like the others, blue siding, black shingles, white trim and a well manicured lawn .. It was quaint. The car came to a halt, tires making not much of a sound on the pavement. Byron slipped out and leaned against the metal as he waited for his ... guest.

As he settled down, trying his best to hide his highly-strung nerves and reach for the seat belt behind him, the young man glanced around. "Ah, I'm Gabriel... Gabriel Stanley." Often he was referred to as Gabriel Neil, or by his full name. It got tiring after a while, and usually referred to himself as Gabe, something his parents had absolutely hated. Amongst so many other things, of course.

He studied the direction the stranger drove, finding that he'd never come this way before. It was a bit outside the city, in a beautiful place. A gated community, something he'd never been able to be a part of. His family had always kept large amounts of money away from themselves, fearing its influence as if it were a disease of sorts. And that had left Gabriel nothing when he finally decided to get away from them, keeping him strongly in search of some kind of job that let him have an apartment relatively larger than a small closet. When they pulled to a stop, he got out and surveyed the land. It was a beautiful yard, green and lively, and a clean house. It was nicer than any houses he'd ever been able to encounter, at least socially. Most he passed and only dared think about. Perhaps his parents had influenced him a bit much in that area...

"You like it? Well now you'll get to see inside." He knew speaking his name would have been polite, but this was different then your normal kind of situation. The person beside him wasn't a person at all. Byron motioned for the other man to follow him inside. In truth, Gabriel was a monster, he had to be ... Why else would he have dreamed of him? That was why the boy's features were so familiar to him.

Soon he was pushing open the door, revealing a warm, cozy, space. The wood floors gleamed a soft honey color, the walls were an inviting yellow or cream, and large windows let natural light flood each space. Byron guided his guest towards one of the back rooms in the basement level of the house. This area too had wood flooring, welcoming furniture and much light, but there was also a hidden room where Byron did his work, and another which he called his guest room.

The pictures he'd spoken off hung upon the left wall, showing wondrously breathtaking pieces. Each one captured a different aspect of winter, framed in dark wood. It was towards them he pointed Gabriel. Mentally, he was preparing himself for the capture.

What a beautiful home. Gabriel had never considered such a place to be within his grasp, not physically, at least. Of course he'd seen pictures, paintings and movies that depicted lovely, expensive, extravagant homes. He never considered having the chance to actually be invited to such a place, however. He followed Byron as was directed, not quite paying attention to his surroundings anymore. It was all clean and pale, but warm and full of real, natural light from wide, tall windows and easy on the eyes.

Suddenly he was vaguely aware of some stairs, and realized they went downward. A basement...? It was starting to play on his worry, this location. While it was also clean and calm, Gabriel couldn't help but feel a very real twinge of apprehension and fear. He had done well to ignore it up to this point, so horribly intent on finding someone, somehow, to pay the slightest bit of attention to him. But now the origin of that attention was standing behind him, blocking the only way out of here...

He shook his head and stepped forward, toward the direction of the paintings. It had to be Gabriel's imagination---this one was so kind, it seemed... so much more than the others, the ones that never looked toward him or ignored or disregarded him. His pale blue eyes surveyed the images before him, considering each one. True, winter did have a... magical undertone, an elegance to it, when snow covered everything.

"I have more to show you, just in that room over there." Byron slipped a gentle hand onto his prey's elbow, and began to guide him towards one of the two rooms reserved for monsters. For a moment he hesitated between the work room and the bed room, but then moved to shoved open the secret door, which was really just a door hidden by a tapestry. His hand tightened around the boy's arm as he did his best to overpower the smaller man, and tried to push him into the room.

Here too the floor was covered with wood. Contrary to every other room in the house it had no windows, and it had been soundproofed by the previous owner. Along one wall was a collection of knives, ropes and other things that clashed thoroughly with the warmth emanating from the rest of the house. Seeing them made Byron's eyes harden as he steeled himself for what he would do next. First, he shoved the monster to the floor and slammed the door shut.

The tensity he had tried to ignore inside him had come into the room itself. It was more than obvious when the easy hand that held onto Gabriel's arm tightened and forced him through something he thought was only a wall hanging, but in fact had a door behind it. He fought back by twisting around, grabbing at the hand that held him in a vise-like grip, but was, as always, too weak to break away. From the corner of his eye the glint of cold steel flashed from the sharp blades of multiple knives, so similar to eyes that were, at one time, so sweet and trustworthy. And rope... were those chains, too? The young man couldn't tell in the instant's slow motion. And the shadows defacing the wood underfoot---blood, or simple dark areas...? He fell onto the floor at a hard shove, the breath knocked out of him.

Now Gabriel felt just like a child---uneducated in the concept of danger when confronted by people one doesn't know, trusting them so fully as to come to their home, not even knowing the person's name. And at that slap in the face the tears came, blurring his vision as he flinched when the door was slammed, sealing his fate. No doubt he'd be harmed, tortured, kept until this stranger was bored or through and killed to be disposed of in a quiet, deserted place far away from the city, or buried in a shallow grave. And no one would be looking for him, either. He didn't have anyone that cared enough about him to waste that kind of time.

Gabriel scuttled back until a wall hit his back, gasping as his lungs started working again and curling into a ball, perhaps hoping if he made himself small enough, he'd disappear entirely. "Please, please, please don't hurt me..." His words were halfhearted, as though a large part of him already knew he'd die someday soon, and in a very agonizing way. One simply didn't acquire the collection this man had with the intent to simply let someone go just because they asked.

He ignored the monsters words. Instead the blonde took a piece of sturdy rope and wrapped it around the other man's wrists forcefully, binding them together behind the pale eyed creature's back, and then binding that to a metal ring he'd fixed to the wall.

"If you can prove to me you aren't a threat to my kingdom city, then I may not harm you. But until then ..." Hands moving quickly, Byron grasped one of the youth's fingers and snapped it with one quick, clean, practiced movement. Then he bound it, always cautious and conscious of the fact that there was a slim chance he'd made a mistake.

"Now talk. Who sen you to harm the people of my holding? Was it him again? Darius has too far a reach, even from beyond the grave." As he spoke, the tall man moved to the wall of knives and picked one up, placed it back again, and repeated the process until in his hand he held a wicked looking blade, smooth edged and very sharp with a deadly curve. The man approached his prey with a business like expression and crouched down in front of the captive.

Gabriel couldn't speak, and felt it fruitless to try to struggle. The other man was definitely stronger than he was, and certainly larger, Gabriel would have no chance at all of getting away. With his arms bound behind him, attached to a ring in the wall, he did pull at it a bit. The knots were strong and tight, and his hands were in an awkward position to try to move them much. Confusion set in between the layers of mindless fear and horrible, hopeless sadness that kept his vision blurred and his face warm and damp with tears. Kingdom city...? The man was obviously deranged, delusional, some type of insane, but Gabriel didn't have the chance to question it before a terrible pain exploded up his arm from one of his non-dominant hand's fingers, a snap echoing in his ear before his own scream. He flinched harshly before it was bound, and couldn't get a breath through the strong sob stuck in his throat.

He was left to cry openly as the nameless man wandered toward the wall of blades, and his muscles twitched involuntarily, sending waves of pain radiating up from his possibly-broken digit. Talk? What did this man think Gabriel was...? Some spy...? His mind wouldn't work, and at each knife that was picked up, a hundred different ends bloomed to life in the young man's mind. And when he turned to look at his captured again, Gabriel brought up his legs as if to hide behind them. He tried to reply, but it was a terrified, frustrated series of stutters:

"N-n-no one... sent me, no... N-no one.... I d-don't know..." He paused, sniffing hard and shaking his head. "I... do-don't know what... I'm so... s-sorry, sorry... don't kn-ow what you... talkin' about..." He coughed, looking down to one of the dark spots on the floor nearby. It had to be blood. That's what it was, blood, the blood of someone that was here before him. "Pl-ease... Just... t-tell me... what'd I d-do wrong...? I-I'll.... I wo-on't do it again... won't... I promise..." He dissolved into thick sobs again, having run out of words to spit out in quivering, transparent pleas distracted by his throbbing finger and hand.

He couldn't possibly have broken him already. It usually took at least a few hours, days even, before the monsters broke. Apparently, this one was different. Byron reached out to brush the tears away, fingers lingering upon skin experimentally. It felt normal, like a person's skin should save for the over abundance of wet tears.

With a small hmm, he swept his hand away and settled down more comfortably upon the ground. "You're a monster, sent to harm the people of this city. I dreamed about you doing so, and my visions are always correct." Byron shrugged. "Darius was the first such creature I came across. He betrayed me, and in doing so revealed himself for what he was. I've been hunting your kind ever since." He didn't know why he spoke so. He supposed even he could get tired of hiding his true work from everyone, and with this being there was no need of that. Absentmindedly, he reached out to shred the hems of his captive's pants.

Gabriel flinched hard when his kidnapper and potential future-murderer touched his face. It caught him off guard and only aided the confusion. It was ridiculous... The whole thing was! He could only shake his head, simply unable to control the tears, the sudden running of his nose, the hair plastered to the sides of his face and his forehead from the nervous sweat that had beaded there. "I..." He brought his leg back when the stranger started cutting up the edges, but quickly and apologetically put it back. "... I-I'm not a---a monster..." He whispered, almost as if he thought it true. "I... n-not..." No, you're the monster! You, not me! His mind screamed at the stranger, but Gabriel dared not utter those words. If the man could simply snap his finger without provocation, he could do much more when angered or offended.

Gabriel swallowed hard, and let out a shaky breath. "I... don't know anyone... n-named Darius... I-in fact, I do-on't know anyone at all! I..." He laughed, a strange mix of despair and euphoria suddenly exploding through his heart and settling in his stomach. "I... work at a h-hotel... I don't hurt anyone... Maybe... you s-saw someone else in your dreams but I just want to go home, please..."

He wanted to go home, and lock the doors and windows and never leave again... He'd never let himself want for a friend or someone to trust, if he could just get out alive. He turned his gaze down, feeling so foolish for having suddenly trusted this utter stranger so fully...

Byron was quite put out when the boy pulled back his leg. He winced as the blade of his knife slipped across his skin, making dark red well up from the small wound. The pale haired man lifted it and licked off the blood, steely grey eyes locked upon the captive. "Laughter, now? You don't seem to understand what kind of danger you find yourself in." Such a tearful face, such an innocent looking one, and yet it was so interesting to see how it could change. It always was, when the monsters were caught and they realized it.

"You don't know Darius? Shame, he could have taught you so much about breaking hearts and destroying lives." Bitter anger slipped into his previously indifferent voice. The man had ruined everything, no not man, monster. It had been hard to finish him off, but Darius had known too much, even tried to use it to imprison him. Byron shook his head, eyes troubled and briefly distracted by his thoughts. "Tried to change me, dye my hair, turn my eyes a different color ... Called people in to poke and prod at me ... Said it was for the best. Monster!"

The knife slammed into the floor, missing Gabriel's thigh by inches. Byron leaned over him, a wild look in his eyes. "Don't lie to me and say you don't know him. He's everywhere, the bad in everyone. Cheated on me! Said, Byron's nuts.. You're no lord, no warrior from past times, just a .. filthy .. little ..." Byron took a deep breath, recalling himself from the outburst and falling back and away from his victim. He'd said too much, gone too far. The last word, trembling at the edge of his lips, if he'd said that Byron knew he'd probably have lost it. The nicest way to say what Darius had called him was to call him a soiled dove. He wasn't, never had been and never would be.

Gabriel yelped when the knife came at him, frozen so he hadn't jumped into the direction of its blade, and pushed himself back into the wall, wincing at the way the metal ring dug into his spine as he did. The wild look in his kidnapper's eyes had him staring, afraid to look away. He blinked when the man fell away, sitting across from him, and the implication finally hit home. He blinked hard again, shaking away the threat of another flood of tears. "I'm so sorry... that happened to you." Gabriel said quietly. He didn't want to raise his voice. Perhaps he could be soothed as a cornered animal, by backing off and speaking calmly, easily.

"You didn't deserve what Darius did to you. You shouldn't be forced to change to please someone. That person should accept you just the way you are. Isn't that right? They should love your eyes, without changing their color, or your hair, without trying to darken it or cut it the way they want it to be. And who is he to tell you what you are?" He paused, licking his lips to take the uncomfortable dryness away. "B-but I've never hurt anyone, I swear. I've never even had the chance to. Darius can't effect you, or anyone else, anymore. The monsters..." He shook his head, taking a gamble. "The monsters aren't really monsters... They just remind you of him. He can't hurt you anymore."

He held his breath, looking down and gritting his teeth for the impact sure to come, perhaps a strike to his head or back.

Byron leaned over, hands grasping the other man's dark locks and slamming his head back into the wall. Then his lips covered that mouth, teeth moving to bite harshly, before pulling back with a derisive air. "You're trying to trick me, but for argument's sake, tell me what you're trying to say." He laughed, hands falling away from the youth's hair.

"Like me, do you?" Shaking his head, shoulders shaking with his laughter, the man lifted himself from the ground and left the room. When he returned, he had a bowl of soup. Byron settled down by his prisoner, lifting the spoon and holding it to the other man's lips. The tomato soup would be enough for now.

The new pain was sharp, but not as sharp as the snapped bone in his hand. Gabriel cried out when his head went back, and squeaked in shock at the harsh bite on his lip. It broke the skin there and tinged his tongue with the coppery hint of blood. Of course it was stupid to have tried to garner trust so early on. With a delusional man at the wheel, Gabriel could only hold on for the ride and hope to use his words sparingly, gather trust over time if he could survive that long. What if the stranger would become bored with him and ultimately dispose of him...? When he left the room, Gabriel let out a breath and decided to cry on his own, loudly, but not too loudly for fear of his captor overhearing.

Like me, do you? Gabriel couldn’t say he did. How could he even remotely like someone that was kind to him, using that kindness as a front to lure him into a Hell he’d never considered before. Then broke his finger for no reason... Just like everything else he’d done!

Gabriel tensed when the footsteps of his captor came back, then appeared through the door with a bowl. The young man couldn’t be bothered to see what was inside until the larger man sat beside him, and couldn’t get it through his sore head that the red liquid was the result of an often-misnamed fruit. He wanted to decline somehow, perhaps move his head away, but feared the recuperations. So he accepted the spoon reluctantly, bit back a noise of discomfort at the temperature.

He made a small sound, lifting the soup to his own lips to test the temperature. "Too hot," mumbled Byron to himself. The blonde put the bowl aside then brought a piece of buttered bread to the other man's lips instead. This was unusual for him. Most of the time, the man was more then happy to watch them starve and beg for food. It was a way to show the monsters what pain they had wrought upon others.

One the soup had cooled, he lifted the spoon to feed his prisoner once more. "You should sleep soon ..." So saying, Byron moved to loosen the ties that bound a little. Just enough to offer a bit more comfort and movement, without making escape anymore likely.

He left with the soup when the white bowl was empty. Upstairs, he rummaged in the pantry, trying to pick out what blankets and pillows to bring down. He'd never done that before, offered any kind of comfort to his captives. Then again, none of them had ever spoken of his hated features in such a way before, saying they didn't need to be changed.

Byron shook his head as he grabbed random blankets and pillows to bring them downstairs. Once there, the grey eyed man placed them near his prisoner.