POSTED: 8/28/00
REVISED: 12/27/00
AUTHOR: Jay / carboxylated@yahoo.com
ARCHIVE: Gundam Wing Addiction (Tyr), Desolation Angels (Ashura, if
she wants it)
[Full fiction index @ http://www.geocities.com/fenris_wolf0]
Disclaimer: Scroll down (invariably at the bottom)
Title: Eden
Category: AU, yaoi, shonen ai, angst, horror
Timeline: Adapted Post-EW (Treize is alive to serve my purposes...
^^)
Pairings: 1+2, 3+4, 5+13, 6+9
Rating/Warning: R. Violent, and graphic descriptions of what is best
describe as "icky" situations. AU somewhat confusing, especially with flashbacks
and whatnot. YAOI = little anime boys snuggling. You've been warned.
Feedback: Craved, desired, wanted, coveted, yearned for, wished for,
and longed for. C&C will be repaid with dancing G-boys, my endless
adoration, as well as a nice slice of karma.
Note: It gets much more violent later on. ^^;; Right now, I'm, uh, building up! Yeah... that's it.
/... .../ = thoughts
It was so dark that it swallowed light and devoured stars.
It needed children. It needed soft flesh and brittle bones-- the delicious snap-crunch of slain prey-- it needed to break young skin. In short, it needed blood. Throughout time, it had always demanded blood-- blood was the price of paradise.
It needed to feed in order to survive-- surely that made sense-- and to feed it had to hunt. There was a rumble in the darkness: how long since the last sacrifice? It only reckoned into the hundreds or thousands of years, but it was still so long since the last. It could faintly remember a night without light, faces lit by torches, shadowed eyes, curving lips, each feeling its-- his, then-- hunger. Priests of the dusk and priestesses of the shadow offered prayer soaked in blood in a dead language. Even with their white linen shifts stained with dried blood, it was a beautiful night. The screaming youth, tied to the altar, flinching from his touch, pain overflowing in those wide, innocent eyes; the taste, the smell, the sight was like ambrosia to his veins. When he bent his neck to feed, it was ecstasy.
It stopped abruptly. It treated the memory like a cherished heirloom: the remembrance of the last was always the sweetest, always the freshest. The next time was coming soon. It sighed, half-remembering the slickness of the blood and the acrid smoke of charred bones. Souls, it seemed, improved with age, permeating the flesh more and more with each life, giving it a taste-- a sensation-- like nothing to be described. Bliss. It could only remember one other thing like that-- hazy, vague, but absolute joy-- and it smirked and settled back. There was another patch of shadow-- something like it, unformed for the moment-- beside it.
It began to croon a lullaby.
Breakfast had been officially declared a war zone.
Oh no, Quatre thought, it wasn't bad enough that Duo was dead set on chocolate chip pancakes and that Wufei insisted on needing the exact same pan for some Chinese breakfast dish-- some kind of omelet-pancake hybrid-- and that Heero was growling because Trowa got the last cup of coffee. But Duo was unceremoniously threatening Wufei with a skillet now as the two squabbled over that damned pan, and Heero was sharpening his steak knives. His knives didn't need sharpening. No, no, not at all. Quatre watched nervously as Heero plucked a hair from Duo's braid and calmly let it drop down on the blade he had just finished with.
The hair split in two.
Even Trowa was mildly frazzled by the noise, the overhang of brown hair beginning to tremble violently as the owner tensed. If Duo and Wufei could only stop bickering--
BONG.
The kitchen reverberated with the unmistakable sound of metal slamming against metal.
Quatre looked at Duo and Wufei, who were both sprawled on the floor. /Oh,/ he thought dryly, /they attacked each other with my kitchenware. They had better not scratched the Teflon.../
Wufei got up first. He held the disputed pan loft, victorious, and began to fry his omelet-cakes. Heero reached over (sharpening another knife with one hand) and dragged Duo from the floor.
"Oi," Duo grumbled, "I just wanted some chocolate chip pancakes. It just isn't right when chocolate isn't given kitchen priorities, you know what I mean? Something unnatural about it. Say, Quatre, are you okay? The left side of your face is twitching..."
Just before Quatre did something regrettable with his now-gleaming steak knives, Trowa put his arm around the little blond. "I'll make breakfast for you. Go wait in the alcove."
Quatre melted into a gooey mess that had to be dually extracted from Trowa's arms. Trowa had never cooked for him before, he noted. This ought to be interesting. He walked through the doors into a little alcove that was really the formal breakfast area. Only, his friends thought the kitchen did just fine. Well, it did keep the servants busy... Quatre settled into an armchair and eyed the pile of mail on the table. Sighing, he picked up the first one in the pile just as Trowa walked in, holding a steaming dish.
"That was awfully quick."
"Wufei's." Trowa said succinctly. "Decided to share." The twinkle in his green eyes told a slightly different version of the story.
Quatre cut into the food, admiring the taste. "Was'init?" he asked, mouth full.
Wufei walked in, followed by Duo and Heero. "Eggs. Flour. Milk. It's very bare."
"'S good!" Quatre beamed, his natural optimism recharged. "What happened to your pancakes, Duo?"
"I'm using your waffle machine instead."
"My... waffle machine?" Quatre looked at the kitchen anxiously, waiting for smoke to begin to curl around the doors.
"It's fine! Heero helped me!" Duo grinned.
"Hn."
/At least he didn't bring the knives,/ Quatre thought.
"What's this from?" Trowa looked at the envelope Quatre had been opening. He reached down to grab the folded paper.
"Dunno. Haven't read it yet."
"Colony Eden," Trowa read aloud, "extends our invitation to Quatre Raberba Winner and guests for a complimentary trip and stay." His eyes continued scanning the page. "It's a privately owned colony--"
"Someone's loaded and not afraid to show it," muttered Duo.
"--they run a sort of... luxury resort and health spa--"
"Oi! Free luxury resort!"
"--as well as a closed community. It's apparently invitation only."
Heero frowned. "I remember hearing about that. It's supposed to be the city of the future. Eden. Paradise."
"Sounds too good to be true," murmured Wufei.
"We should try it out!" Duo looked around at his friends. "Aw, come on, you know you wanna..." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and grinned. "Free stay at some luxury resort? Bring on the room service!"
"What do you think you have *here*, Maxwell?" snorted Wufei.
"It's not a bad idea."
Four heads turned to Quatre, who was calmly eating the rest of Wufei's breakfast. "It's not. It'd be nice to take a week or two off-- we all have plenty of vacation time-- it's not too far-off. The world is safe and the universe free from any megalomaniacs aiming for complete domination. I'd say we deserved a little R&R."
"Quatre, you are the *man*!" Duo crowed. "I'll call into Headquarters. C'mon, Heero, let's go pack!"
The sounds of Duo dragging a caffeine-deficient Heero up the stairs and into their room faded from Quatre's mind as he absentmindedly looked at the letter again. Emblazoned on the letterhead was a ripe, red apple, with 'Paradise' in ornate script below it. Eden, he mused. Sounded like one hell of a place.
They were coming. It trembled with the sheer delight of it all. Coming!
Fresh meat and old souls.
There was an air of mischief around it. They were old friends by now...
...even if *they* didn't remember.
End Part 1
Jay
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