I can't believe Deadman Wonderland doesn't have more FanFiction that it does now! It's an amazing morbid manga; you should go read!

Azuma is probably the most sadistic character I've seen as of yet, so there'll be a lot of… Sexual disturbances most won't pleasurable to read. Just a warning that rape and other sorts are going to fill the future chapters.

I don't own Deadman Wonderland, only my OC and this plot.

This wasn't supposed to happen. It sounded like the easiest job to her: spying on the Undertakers. Being a Deadman, she knew she'd be able to handle it. But one mistake made her fail; one simple, trivial mistake. She wasn't supposed to get caught. Now she's tied to something, blindfolded so she can't see a thing. The sound of footsteps coming towards her confirmed there was someone else in her presence. Whoever they were, she didn't like the aura radiating around them. It was dark, sinister even – this person was sadistic and they were going to hurt her. It was an Undertaker, which was for certain. No doubt had run through her head.

She didn't feel any cuts on her body, so using her Branch of Sin was out of the question. It probably wouldn't have worked to begin with, but she'd still put up a fight. Her wrists burnt badly, though, from tugging and jerking at her ropes, or whatever was binding her hands together. The stupid morons hadn't even thought of her legs, which she could move freely. Whoever came near her would get a good, swift kick in the gut, lower if the situation called for it.

And it sure as Hell did.

The footsteps had stopped, making the female freeze. She didn't move, not even breathed; he was right in front of her. Though there was cloth blocking her vision, she still looked up, somewhere where their face was supposed to be. Their maniacal grin didn't go unnoticed by her, even though she couldn't see. Gritting her teeth, she tensed her legs, getting ready to defend herself whenever the bastard made his move. Yes, he; his musky scent had traveled into her nose, and she could smell him. Females didn't have that bold and valiant odor, as they were more innocent and soft. Didn't matter what personality the woman had, they didn't smell like a man, and couldn't if they tried.

The man had licked his lips, smacking them together before moving to her side, leaning down and setting a hand behind her on the chair. She hitched her breath, and he snickered at this, other hand on her quivering knee. Don't touch me!

A hand wove up her neck, hovering over her skin as it traveled up her scalp. He tugged at the knot securing the blindfold, and in a second light had filled her eyes. She had to squint, being in the darkness for so long. When she opened her honey – colored eyes, she saw that she was in a medium – sized room, looking fairly familiar to her cell back at the G ward. There was a worn – out couch far from her, almost against the wall, and an amp with its guitar leaning against it. Her eyes scanned the room, and immediately spotted the door a little ways next to said couch. She grits her teeth again and made sure it was in her sights at all times; it was her only escape.

"Too bad for you, that it's locked."

Her eyes widened slightly and snapped to her left; that's right, there was a man with her. She only had to see his deep red hair to know that she was staring into the eyes of Genkaku Azuma, leader of the Undertakers. He had his hair pulled back, and wore a lavender tank top, grinning like a madman at the terrified expression she wore. He also had a cigarette loosely in his mouth, which explained the musky scent she had smelled earlier. She scrunched her nose and flinched back when he took a drag and let the smoke out his mouth, blowing it directly in her face.

"You were a pain in the ass to tie down, you know that?" Azuma took the cigarette between his fingers, resting his arm on his knee. He leaned in close to her; she could feel his breath on her cheek. She looked into his deep grey eyes, feeling an unusual sense of dread. This was going to be Hell; she needed to get out of there. When she didn't answer him, he narrowed his eyes and rocked back on his heels, hand still fixated on the back of her chair. He was staring at her collar for a long while, thoughts clouding his head. She needs Candy if I'm gonna mess with her.

Azuma let out a hum and stood, turning his back and walking towards the door. She watched him intently, as he walked out of the room. Now was her chance, she started to struggle and tug at the rope around her wrists. Since her hands were behind her back, it was hard to see what she was doing, even if she tried to look back over her shoulder. It was wound up tight; if only she'd be able to use her teeth. But there was no times in wishing things were different. She needed to hurry. Seemed like no matter how hard she pulled, the ropes only got tighter. With a hiss of pain she tried to stand, but it was very awkward to do so. She was able to lift herself from the seat of the chair, and then began working her arms over the top. Her arms were pressed against the back rather well, so when she started lifting them, her skin rubbed hard against the solid material.

"Damn it," she panted, getting angry. Azuma was going to come back at any moment, she could feel it. Any second he'd walk through that door, and see her trying to get out. He'd kill her, or at least leave her dying in a pool of her own blood. Torture was in order; she knew what kind of monsters the Undertakers were. They weren't going to just shoot her in the head and get it over with, no. They'd beat her, cut her up, and mutilate her existence. There wasn't any way she'd let that happen, not to her.

With a deep breath she jerked upwards again, but something was still keeping her arms from being free. Without a word she glanced down, only to snarl. The idiot wasn't an idiot after all – he had tied her hands to connect with a part of the chair. A knife was the only thing to save her now. She let her head fall back while she let out a flustered groan of agitation.

She'd have to wait when she wasn't tied up, if that'd ever happen. Be that so, the door would be locked whenever she was alone. At least she'd be able to hide and attack Azuma at the last moment, but doubt started to sink in. He was an Undertaker, the main man of them all. He commanded them and ran the group, how would she be able to beat a man such as he in physical combat? Her Branch of Sin was marked off the list; she gained information while spying about a thing called Worm Eater. With that, Undertakers were able to ward off any Branch of Sin thrown at them. The only hope she had was her stamina and strength. Wordlessly she sat back down on the chair, head down and shoulders slumped. Tears stung at her eyes, and threatened to fall, but she wouldn't let them. It wouldn't do her any good to cry in front of that horrid being. He'd only find a sick sort of pleasure out of it, and that was the last thing she'd give him.

The door slid open, and the horrid being was in the room with her again. He went over to her; she could see his feet through her smooth bangs. "Oi, has it been three days yet, Tit*?"

Has it? She couldn't remember at the top of her head. The stupid collar around her neck, injecting poison every three days, was put back far in her mind. Scar Chain had provided it for her, but now that she was captured… There was no way they'd give them freely to her. She'd have to work for it, and she dreaded what kind of work she'd have to do to earn them.

"Seems more like you don't know, eh? We'll see if you die tomorrow, then. Play it by chance." Azuma shoved something back into his pants' pocket, which she assumed to be a Candy. She furrowed her brows and glared up at him, head still lowered. The redhead raised an eyebrow and blew out a haze of smoke, before leaning down to her level. He studied her, looking deep into her eyes in all but a romantic sort of way. She was too easy to read; the kind of woman she was was the type of women he saw every day, figuratively speaking. Reading her thoughts would be an all too easy job, with little to none effort on his part.

His hands rested on either side of her, gripping the arms of the chair as he leaned his body forward. "Escaping is out of your league, but you'll get points for trying. I'll break you when I catch you, just so you know," he tilted his head and smiled tauntingly at her, faking the innocence he'll never have.

She frowned and raised her head, "you won't be able to catch me."

"I don't like silly games like that. They're pointless and waste time."

Escaping from a sadistic, bloodthirsty monk is not a damn game.

"Then I'll be able to escape."

"We'll see about that."

Just as Azuma glanced away from her, she quickly brought her leg up, snapping her heel against his hip. The Super Monk grunted and was forced back a centimeter, but she didn't give him a chance to grab hold of her. The other leg drew up and was against the other side of his abdomen, and she pushed hard. Her goal was to get him as far away from her as she could, but it was difficult because of how hard his muscles were. Then she'd at least try to break the chair with the force of her being pushed back from the stable source; it was an old, creaking thing.

And what an old, creaking thing it was. In an instant she felt the chair legs snap under her, the exact opposite of what she wanted it to do. Her entire body tumbled down and backwards, legs thrown into the air out of shock and lack of balance. She landed with a crash, shrieking as the back of her head hit the cement floor. If she had worn the skirt Chaplin had given her, surely Azuma would see her panties at this point. Lucky for her it was just the standard Deadman Wonderland uniform, or that would truly be embarrassing.

Her impetuous action made Azuma flinch, though his expression was far from surprise. He was laughing, at her obviously. It sounded as if he was choking on both words and shrieks of excitement; it was a failed attempt as well as hilarious, what she just did. He couldn't believe how ignorant and stupid she was! Is she really in Scar Chain with Owl? He tried to take another breath in of his cigarette, though he ended up coughing the smoke since he couldn't breathe.

She grits her teeth, both in anger and pure embarrassment. She tried to use her legs to push herself back up, and even started to wiggle around. This only seemed to make the man's laughter double in size. Fantastic, she hissed inside her skull. Just when she was about to try again, Azuma was suddenly bent over her legs, holding onto them tightly. He was panting, and as he leaned forward, grinning that grin again. She widened her eyes and froze, lying completely still. His abdomen pressed against her skin as he leaned down further, so he was only inches away from her face.

"What the Hell was that? Looks like your little attempt failed, Tit."

A deep blush coated her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes furiously. Her expression was all too amusing to Azuma; pure rage mixed with humiliation got him excited. That's right, it's better if you detest me. You'll be able to fight back with more seniority. He was straddling her now, sitting on her lower stomach. Her breath hitched as she felt her stomach sink in. Azuma's mouth was against her ear, and he let out a low, husky breath.

"You're stuck here forever, Chickadee."

*Tit as in the small song bird.

Please review and give constructive opinions :D