Voiceless

Title: Endurance

Pairing: Wolfram X Yuri

Rating: M

Story Contains: Yaoi, Rape, Violence, Language, and most importantly Unrequited Love

Chapter Warnings: Rape, Violence

Summary: Wolfram is alone and his defenses are dropped. While the rest of the castle lies asleep, Wolfram is in agony, and he doesn’t believe that, if anyone knew, anyone would care.

Chapter Number: #2

Author Note: This is where the plot takes over, and yes this is a graphic chapter because it is what I am best at. If you are against this, please skip the portion between the bars which mark where the rape begins and ends.

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The lights were off, he wore his nightdress, he was in bed, but he wasn’t sleeping. He didn’t know why it had taken over two hours to make the tears of hate stop falling, but he was relieved that they had passed.

“Stupid Yuri,” he muttered to his pillow, fighting another wave of pain. He closed his eyes tightly against the awakening burn in his chest, throat, and eyes, but they shot open once again when he heard his chamber door pull open and then swing closed.

Who would dare to disturb him after such a humiliating evening? Only one person had the right to, his mother, but he could tell by the silent foot falls that it wasn’t her. It had to be Yuri, Wolfram knew. He would have the nerve to rub it in Wolfram’s face that any love he had ever recognized had been false. His eyes began burning again.

“Get out!” He called venomously, trying to sound more confident than he felt. When no voice answered after several moments, Wolfram wondered if the visitor had left. He knew he hadn’t heard the door close, but no one could keep that quiet. And he didn’t sense anyone either.

He dared to pull his sheets away from his head, allowing his eyes to scan the room. It took no time for them to lock upon the silhouette that stood threateningly close to his bed. It wasn’t Yuri, that was certain, and he did not recognize the shape to be that of his brothers or Gunter. He didn’t know who it was in the darkness, but before he could do anything to change that fact he felt his wrists being pinned beside his head and realized that the harder he fought, the closer he was to breaking bones than getting free.

“Let go of me!” He shouted, not thinking about Yuri or his engagement. The anger he thought he felt towards that ordeal was rerouted to the anger at being mistreated, at being attacked while he was unarmed and vulnerable. “Let go!” He fought harder and felt a bone snap which extracted a cry from his throat. He was used to pain, he didn’t cry, but that didn’t make the experience any bit more enjoyable. He was wounded, and under constant attack and detainment he was unable to focus his concentration to heal himself.

After fighting harder for several moments longer, the hand left Wolfram’s crippled wrist; a wrist which’s bones were grated and cracked as well as fractured after painful resistance. Wolfram decided that if he was to die by the powerful hands of the man detaining him, then he wouldn’t make it any more painful. What did it matter if he died now? What was there to live for? The Demon King could replace him with another body guard anytime. What did it matter if he turned up dead?

With a sigh a defeat, Wolfram decided, in a moment of pained despair, that if he was going to die, he was going to surrender. Just this once.

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His captor did not speak as his hand moved away to grab for his sword, the blade that Wolfram knew would end his life however painfully the man wanted. He closed his eyes and listened for the sound of metal, but it didn’t come; his eyes shot open when he felt the hand on his stomach, pushing his nightdress up.

“No!” Wolfram shrieked, half enraged, half surprised. He expected to be murdered, not fondled! He moved his only free, damaged, arm towards the area close to being exposed to invisible eyes, but the hand seized it and returned it to its rightful place beside Wolfram’s head, another bone snapped and another cry echoing in the night.

He started fighting again when he realized that his death wasn’t coming, he fought hard, but his body was weakened bone by bone until he was forced into submission. Blood slid from his lip after being struck for the fourth time and he held his arms against his chest as tightly as he could with two broken forearms and one snapped wrist; he was in pain, but no tears slid past the membranes of his eyes as he felt his wounded legs being pulled apart. He’d been beaten and rendered defenseless as the last of his energy was torn away from him, he’d been abandoned by his fiancé in front of his family…the only remaining humiliation was this.

“Please don’t,” he attempted, a shiver coursing down his aching spine. “Please,” he breathed as he felt his cheeks flush as something hot and firm was pressed against his entrance. “Please.” He knew he was begging, and knew that he didn’t like it, but did it matter? He wasn’t begging the man not to take him; he was begging the Great One to allow this all to be a dream. “Please!” He felt himself rip in more places than one as the firm, hot organ was shoved inside of him. His body ripped and so did his mind.

Wolfram screamed, but it was hardly from the pain of being thrust into with merciless power and haste. If he was dreaming, there was no way that every cell in his body could burn like this. It wasn’t possible. He was awake and that’s why the pain didn’t end, didn’t change.

“No! No!” He shook his head and tried to move away from the repetitive agony that became more intense with each motion of the man above him. He felt the blood running from his lower half, felt the man’s smirk as the beast smirked down at him, writhing beneath him. “Stop it!” He raised his arms to push against the man’s chest, ignoring the protest of his cracked bones. He tried to gather his energy enough to heal himself, but his mind was scattered too far apart. Wolfram attempted to call on his powers, but the moment he began to say the words he knew too well, a familiar fist collided with his jaw, silencing him; breaking it this time. Wolfram knew that the man was giving no more warnings.

He was forced to endure it, the searing pain where the man thrust in deeper and harder each time, extracting scream after scream of pain, defeat, and sadness all at once in concoction with the blood from his mouth and other places. He felt the motions and tried to block them, but it was as if the man became aware of those thoughts and thrust harder. Wolfram was defenseless in person and in mind.

The more he shrieked the harder the thrusting became, but he knew that if he didn’t use the remaining scraps of his energy to scream, he might collapse into tears.

Wolfram whimpered softly, no scream able to force itself free as the intruding rod went deeper into him, spilling more blood and leaving more wounds. He shivered as the rod moved faster, lubricated with blood among other things, and then he screamed. Deeper than the member could reach, a burning liquid ventured that spread and stung anything it touched, moved as the rod softened slowly and retracted.

His cry left his throat raw, and he heard it echo against the stone walls and wondered if anyone heard and if that anyone cared at all.

He was in pain, but that wasn’t a cause for tears, even the humiliating, burning pain between his legs that traveled up his spine to his skull and to every nerve ending in his body. It was Yuri. If Yuri hadn’t left him, Wolfram knew, he would be nestled safely in the sheets he shared with the Demon King and Greta. He would’ve been safe, but it was all a lie. Yuri had never loved him, and this act, this uninterrupted act, was proof from the Great One that Yuri had never even cared.

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There were fluids left in the flower, and as the hand pulled away to reveal the marvelous, squashed flower, fluids bubbled from the remaining scraps of the defenseless petals. As the man pulled away from Wolfram’s bleeding, demolished body, tears began to fall from Emerald eyes.

“Kill me,” Wolfram thought to say, but as his lips moved, no words came out and he was left alone.

~Alice Von Wonderland

Closing Note: As always, I attempt to focus more on emotions than on smut. I hope that there was an equal balance to serve all needs.

Until Next Time

R&R

Alice Von Wonderland