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31_days2008-02-08 11:24 pm
candy--chan.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-02-08 11:24 pm
[Feb. 8] [Detective Conan] Cornered
Title: Cornered
Day/Theme: Feb. 8: “Accursed be he that first invented war.”
Series: Detective Conan
Character/Pairing: Shinichi (as Conan)
Rating: R/M
When he saw the man, he recognized him. He’d caught a glimpse of his assailants the second time they had come for him. Shinichi knew who he was. He knew what this man had done to him, and judging by the long-bladed knife in the man’s hand, he could guess what he was planning for him.
…in hindsight, he should have known that something was up.
But at the moment, it seemed that someone had just dropped the weapon. It was lying out of immediate sight and reach—perhaps fallen from someone’s pocket. All he knew was that he could get ahold of it. Having it made him feel better.
He ducked into the open door at the end of the hallway. It was a small room, dark and windowless, and void of any furniture. He pressed his back against the wall, clutching the weapon tightly to his chest. It took effort to force air into his lungs, and his hands were shaking, but he wasn’t beaten yet.
They hadn’t beaten him yet…
The man followed him there. He loomed in the doorway, knife-blade shining silver in the light from the corridor. And he was grinning from ear to ear. As he took that first slow step forward, he began to talk, describing all the fun things that could be done with that knife. The ways a person could be cut, be slashed to pieces…the lovely ways blood could flow…
Terror took him, unlike anything he had ever known. He had been in dangerous situations hundreds of times before; his life had been threatened countless times, but never like this. There was no chance of rescue here, no chance that someone would happen along.
There was only him…and the weapon in his hand.
But he couldn’t—he couldn’t do it…
…but if he didn’t, he was going to die. They would have won.
Oh god…
He heard the sound of the gunshot.
He saw the man jerk back.
He saw the knife fly back out of the man’s hand.
And he watched in horror as the man slid to the floor.
Instinct kicked in, and he rushed to the man’s side, letting the gun fall from his hands. He checked—this man was still alive. He was breathing. If there was a way to get him help somehow—
He heard a sound behind him and whipped around in time to see the door slam shut behind him; there was a click that he recognized as a lock shooting home. He heard the clattering of the forgotten knife being swept out of the room by the force of it, skittering across the floor.
Shinichi stumbled backwards, away from the door, then realized that he was about to run into the man on the floor. Letting out a cry of horror, he jerked away from the body and the door both, staggering across the room to get as far away from both as he could.
But the small distance couldn’t protect him from the sound in the darkness. He curled up in the corner, feeling every ache of the injuries he had taken during the beatings he had endured. On the other side of the room, the man gasped and wheezed as his life faded away.
Shinichi clasped his hands over his ears, desperate to shut the horrible sound out. But it was in his head, echoing in his ears, and he couldn’t block it completely. It seemed to go on forever, but finally…it faded into the silence. And somehow, he wasn’t sure which was worse.
His hands were shaking, and suddenly there was moisture on his face—where had the tears come from? He no longer had any control over himself. The small body that was his personal prison was wracked with tremors from head to foot.
When he shifted, his foot bumped something on the floor. A quick feel told him what it was—the gun.
He had murdered with this weapon.
Control was a thing of the past. He wanted out. He lifted it with every intention of using it a second time to end a life. But it was then that he discovered just how far this set-up went.
The chamber was empty.
There had been one bullet in the gun, and he had used it on another human being.
The gun fell from his hand and clattered noisily to the ground as he slid down the wall. Staring into the darkness of his prison, knowing there was no escape—not just from this room, this building, but from what he had done and what he had become…
Shinichi felt something shatter deep inside himself, giving way to numbness.
PS. BLARGH. I die nao, kthx *flops over*
Day/Theme: Feb. 8: “Accursed be he that first invented war.”
Series: Detective Conan
Character/Pairing: Shinichi (as Conan)
Rating: R/M
When he saw the man, he recognized him. He’d caught a glimpse of his assailants the second time they had come for him. Shinichi knew who he was. He knew what this man had done to him, and judging by the long-bladed knife in the man’s hand, he could guess what he was planning for him.
…in hindsight, he should have known that something was up.
But at the moment, it seemed that someone had just dropped the weapon. It was lying out of immediate sight and reach—perhaps fallen from someone’s pocket. All he knew was that he could get ahold of it. Having it made him feel better.
He ducked into the open door at the end of the hallway. It was a small room, dark and windowless, and void of any furniture. He pressed his back against the wall, clutching the weapon tightly to his chest. It took effort to force air into his lungs, and his hands were shaking, but he wasn’t beaten yet.
They hadn’t beaten him yet…
The man followed him there. He loomed in the doorway, knife-blade shining silver in the light from the corridor. And he was grinning from ear to ear. As he took that first slow step forward, he began to talk, describing all the fun things that could be done with that knife. The ways a person could be cut, be slashed to pieces…the lovely ways blood could flow…
Terror took him, unlike anything he had ever known. He had been in dangerous situations hundreds of times before; his life had been threatened countless times, but never like this. There was no chance of rescue here, no chance that someone would happen along.
There was only him…and the weapon in his hand.
But he couldn’t—he couldn’t do it…
…but if he didn’t, he was going to die. They would have won.
Oh god…
He heard the sound of the gunshot.
He saw the man jerk back.
He saw the knife fly back out of the man’s hand.
And he watched in horror as the man slid to the floor.
Instinct kicked in, and he rushed to the man’s side, letting the gun fall from his hands. He checked—this man was still alive. He was breathing. If there was a way to get him help somehow—
He heard a sound behind him and whipped around in time to see the door slam shut behind him; there was a click that he recognized as a lock shooting home. He heard the clattering of the forgotten knife being swept out of the room by the force of it, skittering across the floor.
Shinichi stumbled backwards, away from the door, then realized that he was about to run into the man on the floor. Letting out a cry of horror, he jerked away from the body and the door both, staggering across the room to get as far away from both as he could.
But the small distance couldn’t protect him from the sound in the darkness. He curled up in the corner, feeling every ache of the injuries he had taken during the beatings he had endured. On the other side of the room, the man gasped and wheezed as his life faded away.
Shinichi clasped his hands over his ears, desperate to shut the horrible sound out. But it was in his head, echoing in his ears, and he couldn’t block it completely. It seemed to go on forever, but finally…it faded into the silence. And somehow, he wasn’t sure which was worse.
His hands were shaking, and suddenly there was moisture on his face—where had the tears come from? He no longer had any control over himself. The small body that was his personal prison was wracked with tremors from head to foot.
When he shifted, his foot bumped something on the floor. A quick feel told him what it was—the gun.
He had murdered with this weapon.
Control was a thing of the past. He wanted out. He lifted it with every intention of using it a second time to end a life. But it was then that he discovered just how far this set-up went.
The chamber was empty.
There had been one bullet in the gun, and he had used it on another human being.
The gun fell from his hand and clattered noisily to the ground as he slid down the wall. Staring into the darkness of his prison, knowing there was no escape—not just from this room, this building, but from what he had done and what he had become…
Shinichi felt something shatter deep inside himself, giving way to numbness.
PS. BLARGH. I die nao, kthx *flops over*