Author's Notes: Not too sure where this came from. I was just reading last night, and this decided it needed to be written. So, who was I to disagree?
Disclaimer: Not mine; never was, never will be.
This…was wrong, so very wrong. What…what had happened? How did it turn out like this? It wasn't supposed to turn out like this!
"W-why?" A voice; quiet, broken.
She lay unmoving, eyes staring unblinkingly upward.
This wasn't supposed to happen!
The ceiling above her tilted, though nothing moved. The surrounding room resembled the state of her own clothing; torn, ragged, mangled…destroyed.
"Why?" Yet again. Her voice cracking as the sound pierced the silence encompassing the room.
This rampage, it had no cause, no reason!
The twin bed near her face held torn sheets, and was dotted by erupting cotton from the mattress. Scraps of a once brilliant red shirt littered the destruction. A trail of red scraps and white sheet led to the door by her outstretched right arm. Where it ended, ripped wallpaper began.
An indentation in the wall: where his fist struck once she was pinned. A warning of pain should she run again. The place his lips ravished her own, drawing blood and her terrified shouts. Red drops stained the light grey carpet, though not only there.
Red shirt and black skirt scraped from her bodice by razor-sharp claws. Tears swelling in her eyes as she begged, pleaded, weak arms protecting her. His smirk, the childish glee in his eyes as he committed this atrocious act frightened her beyond what she had ever believed possible.
It wasn't him! He wasn't like this! He…he wouldn't do this.
A constrained gasp as his hands bruised her, threw her to the floor. A plea made to his humanity. A cry made to his love.
Panties, bra, discarded as he straddled her thighs. One clawed hand gripping two small wrists above her, the other removing his own black jeans. Strong yet powerless legs separated by his own.
She cried. Fear, bewilderment, love, hate, acceptance…all poured forth. A pink tongue lapped her tears, bringing her hope, before crushing them as he forced his way inside of her.
It continued. His jarring thrusts forcing tearful pleas from her lips along with howls of pain. His long hair brushed across her in a once treasured gesture.
It went on for years, months, minutes. Tears gradually dissolve into hopeless sobs.
One twitch, then his release.
A louder sob as it ended.
A smirk then a pat accompanied by false words of comfort before he dressed and left. Her arms gradually lowered from their previous position. Her body defiled, littered with tears, sweat, and blood.
A tremble shook her entire body even an hour since he departed. Still, she didn't, couldn't understand. She knew him. She befriended him. She loved him! And he loved her. She just couldn't understand…
Didn't think it'd be Keiko and Yusuke, did you? Who did you think, hmm? And yes, before you ask, Yusuke was in his demon form. That's why his hair was long, and why she pleaded to his humanity. Thanks for reading! Now make me even happier and review!