Ch6

The car glided on the colony streets. These streets were smooth, not like in some fake streets only met for the colony’s favorite sport: sex. Yes, these ones were for business not pleasure, paid for by the colony government, almost hiding the colony’s pleasure to outsiders, not like the other streets that ran through the visitor’s and almost poor’s pleasure street lined with houses of true slaves, poor citizens, and bored rich-boys that serviced customers like whores. Those bumpy streets also lay outside the execution house where Treize thought Duo and Heero were going. But they weren’t.

The black limo glided down the street, impassive as the rich houses and business building slowly faded into middle class barbershops and mom and pop stores next to the owners country simple houses. Hardly anyone looked up as the car passed, only one to Heero’s eyes: a common, twentyish man working in a flower garden with only a white robe to cloth himself in. The man looked up and watched the limo drive by with his eyes slightly widened. A sharp bark from a businessman puffing a smoke on the porch overlooking the robbed man brought that his head back down. The businessman smirked and crushed the remains of the cigarette on the top of the porch’s banister top. The businessman leaned over and whispered something to the robbed man, causing a blush on sun-tanned cheeks to peak out for the world to see. The man looked better with the blush, almost handsome.

“New slave, new owner.” Duo broke the calm of no speaking and the soundproof windows and metal of the soundless limo.

Heero looked away from the window to the smirking Duo and lifted an eyebrow, communicating his question the only way he knew Duo would allow him to.

Duo cuddled up to Heero, sliding his hands around and down Heero’s waist. “The businessman has that smirk and gleam in his eyes that a first time owner gets whenever he can show a upper like me his control over a slave. Probably spent a lot of his saving on that ductile slave of his. Probably spent a lot of ill used time training that slave. Businessmen have no skills.”

Duo nipped Heero’s ear before resting his head on Heero’s chest. Duo’s hair smelled sweet and mysterios at the same time. Heero almost smiled at his master. He almost felt something for his new master, deep inside him, something he didn’t and couldn’t guess what it was; he like it.

A hand slid inside the back of his pants, crept down to his cheeks, and stayed there, not advancing, not retreating. It just stayed there, a reminder of his master, a sweet reminder.

The houses faded by to the small poor section. The houses here were one room for eight. Fake fancy dressed tumbled into their homes after a night at the brothels. Others left, almost cherry and bright, for their daytime jobs in the city. Some drunks wandered the streets, offering petty coins to the ones just back and to tired to even think of anything but bed.

A man stood in the middle of the returning home walkers. He waved a sign saying ‘Death to the gov’. He shouted slogans all like the one on the sign, waving his sign in front of the tireds’ noses, promising freedom and money. He was poor, just like them. Rags barely kept him decent for visitors. The tired ignored him, like he was a ghost, a thing of the past. But he kept on yelling and waving his cardboard sign, and promising the impossible to promise.

“He used to be rich,” Duo said, lifting his head. “He used to be rich and powerful. Lords of the earth bowed to him on their visits. Them something happed; no one knows what, not even my parents. He joined them on an ill planed quest to get rid of the government. They failed. The government killed my parents. The government let him live to be laughed at and ignored. It would’ve been better if he died.”

Silence took the car after that in its godly fingers. Heero let the passage of houses and Duo’s warmth to lull him to sleep. As the silence had taken the car, dreams took him.

He was where; he knew not where. Blackness was all that he saw. His hands brushed against cold cement and a shivering finger. He moved his hand across an arm. He brushed hair; it was long, loose, in a days old braid that was thin from all the hair that escaped, something sticky knotted parts of it. He moved down to a ribs barely covered by flesh and skin. The stickiness came from under those ribs, from an almost shallow cut that lazily leaked the sticky blood that covered the skin and braid. A gasp came from the body when he lightly pressed it. The blood now covered his fingertips.

“So, Heero,” the ribs rose as the speaker spoke, “how do you like your new home, this grand home? How do you like the exaction house?”

The speaker started laughing, insanely, punctured by dry coughs that hiccupped his ribs up and down. They lasted for long, so long. Then stopped all at once. Chapped, bloody lips captured his lips. Thin hands started moving across his body, avoiding the bloody places that were on his body.

Something hit metal against stone. Light fell on their bodies and reflected off Duo’s eyes. A man stepped in, a man Heero recognized. It was the yeller and waver from the poor community. And the world shook on its pillars.

Heero’s head hit the back of the seat as Duo shook him. He opened his eyes to the lavender, healthy eyes of Duo and the healthy hands of Duo gripping him. Nothing bled from Duo’s body. Duo was fine.

It was just a dream; they weren’t really at the place; it was just a dream. Heero smiled. He was glad; his master was fine, and Heero was glad. He wanted to snuggle into the slightly worried but smiling Duo and not sleep. He was glad. He was happy. He was smiling.

“Heero, are you okay?” Duo said.

Heero, still smiled, grunted a yes to his healthy master.

“Then let us go.” Duo grabbed his hand and led him out of the car and away from a smirking driver. Whether smirked from Duo’s actions or the money he would most certainly receive from Treize after reporting Duo’s where about remained to be seen.

Straight, cement trails led through a grassy domain with the occasional almost fake tree. Rich frolicked here with their slaves--almost dressed themselves with their slaves showing all. Some just walked and talked with their slaves, which were ten steps behind with their ductile heads bowed. Small, poor kids sold items like lotion, condoms, chains, and dildos to those masters who forgot their, mostly his, supplies.

Duo led him away from the populated areas. The grass grew to their thighs, tickling them. Trees shot to the sky, shadowing everything. Duo smiled and started running with Heero still in his grasp.

The land disappeared, or rather; steeped to a rolling hill that Duo swung them down. He laughed in joy as the soft grass cushioned his roll. They landed at the bottom in a pile of limbs and laughter. Heero even laughed.

“Never did that before, have you?” Duo whispered in his ear as the detangled.

Heero still smiled when they got up; Duo didn’t, causing Heero’s to falter.

“Come on; we have business top take care of.” Duo grabbed his hand and pulled him through the waist high grass.

The thick steel walls came visible after ten minutes walking. It soared above their heads, slopping to the horizon. That was where they went.

Duo crunched down by that wall and pressed against it with two fingers. An opening slid open, revealing in the supposed to be solid steel a steel staircase that faded into black--deep, dark, dead black.

Heero thought it was going to swallow him—the staircase and the fear that rose in him.

And it did, coming out of the wall and eating him. Mwahahahahahahahah. Computer fixed!!!!!! Dad now bugging me to pack and clean my room. AAArrrpppphhh!!!

Ja ne.