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Will was wandering about, slightly nervous and fingering the fresh bruises on his wrist, looking around quietly. He'd left Renshii's side a while ago and was debating on whether or not to go back to Reed and Cross.
Vichar was sitting, just staring at the horizon, on a large rock on the beach. He was a bit far from the others, his general disgust for humanity driving his senses at the moment. He was wearing his typical elaborate best, gloves and all. His trunk sat behind him, locked as usual. He was toying with his longer, more ornate dagger as he thought about his recent decision to go out to sea.
Will sighed quietly and decided perhaps he'd best go back to Cross and Reed. He wandered down the beach, noting a man sitting there alone, his curiosity piqued. Hands clasped behind his back he walked over and quietly inquired, "'scuse meh suh...Kin I ask yeh what yehr doin' here?"
Vichar turned to him with a look half full of contempt, and half full of 'why the hell are you bothering me?' He continued to fiddle with the point of his blade, taking in the sight of his 'visitor' before he started to reply with a sneer. “I'm going to be joining this crew, assuming they do not cause me to vomit before I board the ship.” His gaze went down to his dagger, though he was kind of curious as to what had caused this seemingly illiterate 'mongrel' to approach him.
Will tilted his head to the side, a little more curious now. "Are yeh joining Cross' ship, suh?" He chewed his lip quietly, sensing that he was quickly getting on the bad side of this particular man.
Vichar looked at the youth out of the corner of his eye, his attention brought to the lips of the stranger by the biting motion. “Assuming that he is of the Invader, then yes. I assume that is the reason for the slight crowd on this beach?” He spat in the direction of the others, lip curling again.
Will winces and nods. "Yes suh. I am sorry ter have bothered yeh." He shivers and backs away slowly. "I eh...will see yeh some ovver time."
Vichar glanced down at his dagger again, an unreadable expression crossing his face for a moment. “Wait...”
Will does as he's told, freezing in place. "Yes suh?"
Vichar looks sideways at the boy, head bowed. Come here...
Will bites his lip worriedly but complies, coming closer. "yes...suh?"
Vichar took on a wolfish grin, barely visible through the strands of jet black hair hanging in front of his face. His eyes were getting a slightly maddened look. “A little closer...I want you to take a look at this little weapon of mine, tell me what you think...”
Will rubs at his bruised wrist and nods, shaking slightly. "Yes suh." He stands just in front of Vichar, hunched slightly. "unn...It looks very fancy, suh." Will chews his lip quietly, watching him closely for his next move.
Vichar closes his eyes a moment, before lunging swiftly at the boy, spinning him slightly by the shoulders and pinning him to his trunk.
Will's eyes go wide and he crumbles downward, pinned between Vichar and the chest. "Ahh...!" He presses his cheek to his shoulder and closes his eyes tightly, tense.
Vichar leaned over the boy, and breathed a bit menacingly in his ear. “They should not be able to see us, now...at least not you...” He ran his tongue along the back of Will's ear before continuing. “So just stay quiet, or I'll do more than simply tickle you with this dagger here...you understand?” He hissed slightly as he finished.
Will nods silently, not wanting to speak and thus incur Vichar's wrath any further. He shivered quietly, wiggling a little, wondering if he could actually manage to get free.
At the boy's wiggling, Vichar pressed his right hand down on Will's shoulder hard. Leaning his dagger against the left side of the boy's head for a moment, his left hand reached down towards his captive's trousers. “Glad we understand each other.” He grinned again, having not had such an opportunity in quite some time, and really getting lost in it.
Will shivers and nods again, wiggling a little more after noticing Vichar might like that sort of thing.
In response to the new bit of wiggling, Vichar backhanded the boy viciously across the face with his left hand, keeping his right firmly on the boy's shoulder. He narrowed his eyes and sneered, growling ever so slightly. “Don't tempt me to get rough with you...boy...” He practically spat the last word as his left hand resumed its descent.
Will winced and bit his lip, nodding once more. Inwardly he snorted; he knew this type...he wanted to hurt, wanted a reason. Will sighed quietly. "Yeh kin hurt meh if yeh like, suh..."
Vichar's hand paused again in its travels, and yet again he sneered. “Of course I can. I didn't need you to tell me that.” He was getting a bit annoyed, this wasn't proving to be nearly as fun as he had hoped. It seemed he had caught a more willing fish than expected. He internally shrugged it off, left hand undoing any fastens on the boy's trousers as he began to bite Will's neck.
Will frowns quietly and tries to pull away, deciding to change tactics. The bigger man would like it more. "nn...!!"
Vichar uses the leverage of his hands on shoulder and now-loose trousers to yank the boy back to his starting position. He tightened the grip his teeth had on the boy's neck as he yanked the trousers down to Will's ankles.
Will closes his eyes tightly and fists his hands. "Ahh!! S-Stop!"
Vichar clamped his right hand over the boy's mouth, giving him an angered stare as his left hand reached slowly for his dagger. “What did I say about noise, boy?” he hissed, fingers closing softly on the hilt of his dagger.
Will whimpered softly, shaking his head frantically, wondering if this would please the man before him despite his threats. He pushes weakly at Vichar, wiggling to try and escape.
Vichar sneered and put as much force as he could behind his right hand, pushing down on the boy's face to hold him still. He brought his left hand, now clutching the dagger, up where the boy could see it. “I said...do not make me get rough with you, boy...you may well not survive the encounter.” The half-crazed glint in the man's eyes easily conveyed how serious he was about this. “Are we clear now?”
Will whimpered and shivered; would the man really kill him? His eyes went a little wide and he struggled moreso, a little afraid now.
Vichar leaned his entire body weight against the boy now, holding down as much of Will's body as he could. He laughed, quietly, mercilessly, as he saw the fear creeping into the boy's eyes. He had seen it enough times to know what it meant, what thoughts were behind those eyes. “Yes, boy...I would kill you in a heartbeat. You mean nothing to me, and I doubt you mean anything to anyone else. I have blood of much more worth than yours on my hands.” He grinned again, the look in his eyes getting less and less sane.
Will bucked roughly, shaking his head, trying to scream for any of the pirates he'd actually managed to somewhat befriend. He whimpered quietly and tears leaked from his eyes.
Whatever cat and mouse game Vichar had been enjoying shattered at the frantic movements. All sanity lost, the boy had pushed him past his brink. He was to the point now where he would take what he wanted, whether the boy ended up dead or alive. Pulling a fancy handkerchief from his pocket, he stuffed it into the boy's mouth before roughly flipping him over and yanking up his shirt. Pressing his whole body down on the boy again, he leaned in and hissed, “Do. Not. Scream. Do. Not. Struggle. And maybe, just maybe, I'll let you live.”
Will shivers, staying still for the most part, not even nodding. He bites his lip hard to keep from saying anything, wondering if maybe this will be it for him. He fists his hands and cries without sound, body tense.
Vichar smiled, finally relaxing a bit, preparing to take out his frustrations at last. He bites the boy's shoulder hard before getting up slightly. “So tense...” He laughed quietly, the sort of laugh that only victims and institution workers ever hear. He ran the fingers of his right hand slowly and lightly down the boy's spine, testing the reaction.
Will shuddered and bit his lip harder to keep from making a sound. He flexed a little, not able to help himself.
Smiling again, Vichar ran the cold tip of his dagger lightly along the boy's spine, not pressing hard enough to cut, again testing the reaction as he began to free himself from his own trousers.
Will shook his head a little, used to worse but genuinely concerned for his life; he hated it sure, but he didn't want to die.
Loosening his manhood at last, Vichar leaned over again, though not close enough for the boy to know that he was 'free.' He brought his dagger again up to the top of the boy's spine, but this time as he traced downwards, he stabbed the dagger in hard and really pulled it down. As the dagger neared Will's tailbone, the man forced himself into the boy, contracting his own body roughly to push himself in and pull the dagger close forcefully at the same time.
Will bit through his lip to keep from screaming, his eyes wide and terrified, muffled shouts still escaping him. He shook violently, breathing hard.
Pausing to savor the moment, Vichar was also breathing hard. He pulled the dagger out of the boy's back as he pulled out slowly, enjoying both the feel of his actions and the knowledge of the boy's pain.
Will continued to shudder, sobbing and choking on the handkerchief in his mouth, keeping him from breathing properly. As much as he can, he tries to arch away, emitting a muffled scream when this doesn't settle well with his fresh wound.
Vichar smirks, watching the boy a moment. “Now, now...no screaming.” Vichar put his teeth on the boy's shoulder again, nibbling slightly before thrusting back in. As he thrust, he bit down hard, and let out a light grunt.
Will whimpers and shakes his head, sobbing quietly.
Keeping his teeth tight on the boy's shoulder, he thrusts again, this time biting down hard enough in the act to draw blood. His hands clamp down on the boy's forearms to both give himself more leverage and hold the boy down.
Will shakes his head more violently, feeling the blood trickle over his skin. Desperately he tries to buck the other man off, screaming behind the make shift gag.
Vichar snarls and slams his left hand down on the boy's head, holding it down and still as he pulls out. He shoves his blood-covered tongue in the boy's ear before hissing at him and thrusting again.
Will moans softly, feeling his cheek crunch against the chest and he stills, sobbing quietly and eyes fairly unseeing.
Vichar begins an actual rhythm, forcing himself roughly into the boy faster and faster. He begins to lick at a bit of the blood from the boy's bite wound, but as his speed increases he abandons that notion and sinks his teeth into the open wound.
Deciding he might only have one chance left, Will bucks with all his might, trying to get his arms back under himself on one of Vichar's outward strokes, groaning at the pain of it.
“God damn it boy!” Vichar yells, anger getting the better of his common sense for the moment. He takes both of the boy's wrists in his right hand, holding them down above the boy's head. He picks up his dagger with his left, pressing the point against the base of Will's skull. “That is not a way to attempt to get out of this alive...” he sneered, squeezing the boy's wrists together harder to punctuate his words.
Will drops his head and moans softly, defeated. He flexes his wrists a little at the grip, wishing he'd just gone straight to the ship. Christ why couldn't he have just gone straight back to the ship?
Satisfied that the boy's spirit was broken, at least for the time being, Vichar resumed his activities, having to start over because of the outburst. His thrusts, as well as the grip of his teeth on the boy's shoulder, increase in ferocity as the rhythm speeds up, bringing the man to climax at last. He shuddered, and his grip on the boy's wrists loosened slightly. Panting in the boy's ear, he pulled out, leaning heavily against poor Will as he waited to regain his composure.
Will winced and cried out at the weight on his abused flesh but tried to stay still. He'd like to just go back to the ship and forget about the whole damn thing.
Finally breathing slowly enough to close his mouth, Vichar closes his trousers and belt with his left hand, still holding the boy with his right. "One last thing..." Will could hear the still-crazed, sadistic smile in his voice as he spoke. Will shivered and kept his eyes closed tight, positive he didn't want to know what the last thing was.
Vichar lowered his dagger to the boy's back again, this time at the right shoulder. Pulling his dagger slowly but deeply towards the boy's left, he formed a cross on Will's back, the mark he left on his victims. His personal jab at God.
Will arched wildly, not able to help himself. He screamed and screamed, muffled by the gag but still there. This was by far the roughest he'd ever been treated.
Proud of his work, Vichar replaced the boy's clothing with his left hand after taking the bloody dagger between his teeth. He then flipped the boy over, letting go of his wrists but shoving him down with a hand on each shoulder. He studied the boy's features, curious not only of the aftermath of his work, but to really know what his 'partner' looked like.
Will's jagged sandy hair was more disheveled than usual. His cheek was already a bit swollen but it wouldn't start to color for another day. His face was covered with blood from where he'd bit through his lip and tears were still flowing from his dazed eyes. He moaned at the pressure on his abused back but couldn't give it much more thought. He was quickly approaching the sweet numbness of shock.
Vichar slid slowly down onto his right elbow, which was now placed beside the boy's head. His left hand moved slowly towards Will's throat, clamping down enough to affect breathing, but not hard enough to kill him. “Well, boy...” he breathed into Will's ear. “Should I let you live?” The fury was gone, the sanity was returning...he was going back to his original cat and mouse game.
Will blinked at him, coughing slightly but unsure of how to respond...almost not understanding even.
Vichar smirked almost imperceptibly as he watched the boy's reaction, before running his tongue down Will's ear. He shifted slightly, and bowed his head to taste the blood from the boy's bite wound again. He filled his mouth with it, savoring it in some sick ritual that he doubtfully even understood himself.
Will shivered and tried to look away, closing his eyes and coughing still. He almost wished he could beg but figured that would only serve to make it worse anyway.
Vichar put his right hand on the trunk again, straightening up and putting a bit more weight on the boy's throat. Mouth still filled with blood, he forced his tongue into the boy's mouth, staining the still slightly-white handkerchief as he shoved it further towards Will's airway.
Will tried to shake his head away, eyes wide and nostrils flaring as he desperately tried to get some air. "Nnn-NNN!!" He tried bucking again, anything to get more air.
Grinning, Vichar let go, stood up, and spread his arms wide, shoving the boy viciously off of the trunk with his foot. Glancing for a moment at the blood on the lid and making a disappointed face, he walked around to where the boy lay.
Will groaned and pulled out the gag, gasping in the air, watching Vichar carefully as best he could. He cringed when he landed on his back and rolled a bit to the side, more onto his stomach. "nn...nnn...nnn.."
Vichar laughed internally, playing the proverbial cat with much glee. Placing his right foot on the boy's head, he started putting more weight on it and began shoving Will's face into the sand.
Will winced and sputtered. "Ssstop!" He tried to push Vichar's foot away, weak and tired, still gasping for air, coughing for all the sand getting in his mouth. He didn't much note the pain of the sand in his wound; he didn't care anymore. He just wanted away.
Giving one last vicious shove with his foot, he sat down on the boy's back, straddling him and leaning forward. “What reason would I have for sparing you? You'll surely tell someone about this...why would anyone in their right mind let you go?”
Will whimpered quietly. "...'cause...I'll...m'yehrs. Yeh kin...do this...t'meh whenever yeh want suh....if...yeh let meh live...please." He cries quietly, ashamed of himself, that his will to live would be so stubborn.
Vichar chuckled. “What makes you think I'll want you a second time? Don't you think I'll tire of you rather quickly?”
"...yes..but....I kin do whatever yeh want suh..please...please..."
Vichar leaned back, putting more weight on the large wound on the boy's back. He thought a moment. “Could you, in some way, guarantee me a spot on that ship?”
Will nods frantically, nearly biting through his lip again. "Nnnn! Yes s-suh!" He whimpers. "I'll talk ter Cross...please...lemme go...please...lemme talk ter Cross..."
“Well then, you are of some use to me.” Vichar stood, brushing off his gloved hands before picking up his bloody handkerchief between two fingers. He tucks it back into his pocket, viewing it as a contract of sorts, representative of the boy's cooperation. “Just remember, boy...if I don't end up on that ship, I will find you.”
Will shudders and nods, unmoving. "....Kin i...go...suh?" He winces, not wanting to piss Vichar off further.
Vichar smiled, knowing that the boy was like most humans, and therefore would be indebted to him forever. “You may go. But you had better not forget.”
Will nods and shakily pulls himself to his feet, taking off in the direction of the ship and not looking back. He'd ask Cross as soon as possible.
Watching the boy run, Vichar regained his earlier blank composure. Picking up his dagger from the top of his trunk, he licked it clean before wandering off to find a more secluded spot, dragging his luggage behind him.
