Warning: lots ooc, AU, mentions of rape, character death. Depressing writing. Stuff like that.

XxXxX

All smiles and sunshine

A perfect world on a perfect day

Everything always works out

I have never felt so fucking great

Life isn't like this

Life isn't like this

Well Life isn't like this

XxXxX

Life is full of surprises. Sometimes they're good and, sometimes, they're bad.

Ace smiled happily as he sat at the wooden kitchen table, swinging his legs back and forth as he eagerly waited for his breakfast to be done cooking. Rogue, dressed in her favorite light-blue dress, snuck a peak at her eleven-year-old son and gave a chuckle; flipping the pieces of bacon that were cooking in a frying pan. "Hungry for bacon, Ace?" The boy's smiled widened even more as he nodded. Who wouldn't be excited to eat bacon on a sunny and cheerful Saturday morning? The morning's 9 o'clock sunshine fell softly through the windows, warming the house to the perfect temperature. Outside, birds flew by; some landing leafy-green branches to sing their little hearts out to the world while others pecked at the ground to find themselves fat, juicy earthworms. Over the sound of bacon sizzling you could faintly hear the new hit song called Trick and Treat play on the radio that sat by the microwave.

"So what are we going to do today?" Rogue gave some thought to this, tilting her head slightly and placing a hand on her hip.

"Well," she began, "–we can always go to the beach. And if you don't' feel like going there, we can always go to the zoo."

"Both sound pretty good…"

Rogue smiled. "I think we'll have enough time to do both," she chuckled, earning a light chuckle from Ace. "Bacon's almost done. Give it about a minute or so."

"Good, because I am hungry~!" Ace held a hand to his stomach. "I didn't get to eat anything yesterday so I'm starving." Rogue gave him an uneasy look.

"Why didn't you eat anything yesterday? I made you breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

Ace gave a quick shrug. "I wasn't feeling hungry at all. But now I do! Oh, aren't we supposed to–"

Diiiing Dooong

Knock knock knock

Rogue looked up from the pan of bacon, turning the stove off to let the bacon set a minute. The two looked at the door in curiosity. "Were you expecting anyone today, Ace?" He just shook his head and she quickly wiped her hands dry of any grease. "Maybe it's the postal worker. He probably got lost again." Ace chuckled at this, as did his mother as she turned the handle for the door. "Really, if they're gonna hire a mailman, he should really have a sense of direct–"

Four men, all dressed in black from head to toe, rushed into the house; one of them grabbing Rogue's wrists tightly and held a big, shiny knife to her throat before she even had time to react. "Move and you're dead," he whispered into her ear.

"Mother!" Ace had little time to react as the other three masked men grabbed for him. He quickly leaned away, avoiding a pair of grabbing hands. One dove for him and he swiftly placed a chair in the man's way; the sound of a chair connecting with a man's shins was the only sound in the house. Ace crawled under the kitchen and over to the opposite side of where the invaders were. The phone! He had to reach the phone! Jumping over the couch, he reached the phone. He dialed 911, but only nothing happened. They had cut the phone line. Ace did the only other thing he could think of.

He started screaming for help.

"Help! Somebody help, we're being attacked!" He dodged another pair of hands, and another pair, and ran to a window. "Help! Someone help us!" He turned back to the intruders with wide eyes. 'I need a weapon. A knife!' He ran for the kitchen and got a large knife, a look of hate in his eyes. "The next person to try to grab me is gonna regret it."

One man snickered at the threat and went for Ace anyway. He soon found out that Ace's threats were not empty. As soon as one arm was within reach, Ace slashed the knife fast and hard, leaving a three-inch gash on the man's right forearm. "Son of a fucking bitch!" He cradled his arm in pain, blood wasting no time in dripping to the floor. "Fuck!" The wounded man reached for the dish towel that hung on the fridge while another intruder tried to grab Ace. The boy slashed out but the man was quick, pulling his arm away just in time. Before Ace had time to pull back to strike again, the man grabbed his wrist and twisted it; the knife fell from Ace's grip and he let out a hiss of pain. The man instantly pushed him to the ground, even holding Ace's hands behind his back and setting a knee on him to make sure he couldn't get away. Even when captured, Ace refused to stop fighting. "Get off me! Get off me!"

"Shut up or your mama here gets an open throat. Got it, brat?" Ace immediately stopped his struggling. The man holding Rogue gave a curse as he looked to his wounded companion. "How is it?"

"Fucking hurts," was his first reply. Pulling away the towel and rolling up his black sleeve, a rather nasty looking gash came into view. "Should be fine as long as I keep the towel wrapped around it."

"Go search the house," the leader, or who Ace thought was the leader, ordered; still holding the knife to Rogue's throat. She looked to Ace.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fi–"

"Shut up!" The man holding Ace stood up and slammed his foot on to the middle of Ace's back. The freckled child bit down the cry of pain that nearly left his throat.

"Leave him alone!" Rogue moved as if to go to Ace's side but the knife dug into her neck and she reluctantly stopped. The leader sneered as Ace looked up at him with a deep glare. "Please, he's only a child. Please don't hurt him." Even though it was a plea, her voice was strong; unwavering even under the circumstances. The man gave her kudos for being brave.

On the radio, the song played on. "Don't ask why or when or where, you don't even need to know how. Eat these sweets, they tempt you into believing fake hospitality. Give me that, quickly, quickly, just give it here right–"

The leader of the group pulled out 9mm handgun and quickly ended the radio's life. Ace flinched as the sound of the gun went off, as did Rogue, and neither seemed to move. The other two men came back into the room, each one holding a somewhat full bag of stolen goods. The radio that was in the living was still playing. Apparently Trick and Treat was playing once again. "You will see that your hands are tied and bound, dragging at my heels."

"Well, now that we have concluded our business, how about we have some fun?" All the intruders seemed to smirk at this. Something was wrong. Rogue could feel it. Ace could feel it too, and he didn't like it at all. He became worried for his mother, and prayed nothing would happen to her.

"Sometimes we see the shine of doubt flickering on the double-edged knife."

Then men threw their bags off to the side and the man who held Ace to the ground pulled out a rope from his pocket. He bound Ace's hands tightly behind his back, rendering Ace unable to fight back. He pulled Ace up by the arm and bent low, whispering something into his ear. "Shall we have some fun?" Those words sent shivers down Ace's back and he knew what the man meant. The boy paled, as did Rogue.

"Through a hole in the blindfold, there was something I thought I'd never see. Lantern shadows that grew at night unconsciously frightened me."

Ace began to struggle against the hold on his arm, fear taking over his mind. He lashed out, kicking the man in the knee. The man grunted in pain and Ace dashed to somewhere, anywhere, where he was safe from these men, these pigs. He put the couch between him and the intruders. "Help! Somebody–"

"Scream all you want," one of the men spoke. "If I remember correctly, your only neighbor moved out last month. There's no one around for at least a mile or two." Ace's face fell. He was right. It wouldn't matter if he screamed his heart out. No one would come. No one would help them. He was suddenly tackled to the ground and he thrashed about, trying his hardest to get free. He felt the rope holding his hands loosen and it fell free of his appendages. He turned on to his back and looked at the man looming above him and didn't hesitate a second to shove a finger in the man's eye. A pain-filled cry tore from the man's throat and Ace quickly got up. He had to stop these men. Very bad men they were. He didn't get far before the third intruder grabbed his left arm, twisting it in an odd direction.

Ace felt something snap and hot pain bloomed in his left elbow. He scream of pain tore through his throat before he bit down on his tongue to stop it. He fell, trying not to move his broken bone. He took in several deep breaths before he was shoved to the ground and his elbow was stomped on.

Over and over and over.

Ace gave up on trying to stay quiet as his elbow's bones shattered and his tendons torn and his muscles bruised. It last no more than a few seconds, but the pain made it feel like hours had gone by. Even after the attackers stopped, the pain that bloomed in his elbow was horrible. Ace's breath became shallow as he fought to regain control of himself. He suddenly felt someone grab his ankle and began to drag him down the hall. Towards his bedroom. Ace's eyes widened.

"Why are you trembling in front of me like a scared little mouse?"

The boy clawed at the wooden floor that passed beneath him, grabbing at the walls and any little thing that might help him gain freedom. By now Rogue was fighting against the man holding her captive. "Ace! Leave him alone! Take me instead! Please! Ace!"

"Mama, help!" Ace's fear only grew more as he got dragged farther into the hall, his mother suddenly leaving his sight. "Please… Help! Let me go! Let me go! Mom!"

"Ace! Please, take me instead! Please… please, I'll do anything you want. Just don't hurt him!" Rogue fought hard but could not get free.

"This is my domain, my place where it's just as warm as any place. I'll just toll what's in your pocket, now you should not lose face."

Rogue couldn't help her child, couldn't save him from the cruelness and pain he was about to be introduced to. Ace continued to claw at everything, anything. He was desperate to get away. He didn't want this. He didn't want it. His mother disappeared from his sight and he suddenly felt alone. Fear took over his mind completely. He tried to move his swollen and already bruised arm, but let out a small cry a pain as he did. He was dragged to his bedroom and he grabbed the door frame in hopes of pulling himself free. One of the intruders ripped his hand away from door frame and began to close the door. "No! No! Mother! Let me go! No!"

And the door was slammed shut.

. . .

. . .

The house was quiet. The kitchen was a mess; broken glasses and plates were everywhere on the floor. The living room was almost in the same shape. Photo frames were smashed and broken, as were the vases and television. The radio in this room had met the same fate as the one in the kitchen. The couch's springs and stuffing had been torn out, leaving the cushions slashed and mutilated. The bathroom hadn't been touched. Rogue's bedroom had been thrashed. Her bed was upside down, her mattress beat and sliced. Her computer had been smashed to nothing, as was her television. All her photos were on the floor with shattered glass and broken mirrors. Her desk had been tipped over and all her cd's were snapped in half. A ceiling fan hung from the ceiling by a wire, the only thing keeping it from falling and breaking the little that was left of it.

The rooms were thrashed and broken, as was Ace's. But Ace's room was the quietest room in the house. Not a sound came from it. The setting sun's 6 o'clock rays didn't even enter the room. It was quiet, void of all good and light. Near the left corner, almost against the wall, was Ace. His gray eyes stared blankly at nothing, devoid of any emotion. He lay in puddle of blood but didn't care. The liquid had grown cold and began to chill him, but he couldn't feel the cold. All he felt was pain. It was everywhere. His elbow, now purple and black, was swollen and broken. His ribs weren't in much better shape. Though they weren't broken, he was almost positive they were bruised. His back was covered in lacerations, both small and large. But those wounds weren't as bad as the one he felt in his rear. The pain there was beyond unbearable. He felt as if his whole body and been split in two several times over.

He picked up his head, revealing a black eye and cut up lips, and looked at the other end of the room. There, in a heap of blue and red, was his mother's body; dead and cold and nothing more than a sack of death waiting for the worms to go to work on it. Her clouded eyes stared at him, her mouth agape. Ace… His name had been her last word. She had died trying to protect him. It was true that the rapes had nearly tore his body apart with pain, but all that pain was nothing compared to the wound that was on his heart. His heart had broke, shattered, just like his elbow had. It was filled with an emptiness, a never-ending void. It made him feel numb, as if nothing in the world mattered. Too numb with both physical and emotion pain, he couldn't even shed a tear for his mother. Her body seemed twisted in the form it was, as if she had been nothing but a doll that was thrown to the ground unwanted. Her open and red throat seemed to scream at Ace that this was all his fault. And he agreed with it. It was his fault that his mother was dead. Mind wracked with guilt, he turned his gaze to the ceiling.

The radio that hung by a wire from a shelf fell and hit the floor in the middle of the room. The item came to life and music filled the air, though it was distorted and disturbing from the abuse it had received. Ace continued to lie in his own blood with his own broken body. He was nothing more than a used doll too, broken and forgotten on the floor. He didn't have the strength to move, to get up and get help. Help… He didn't want help. Help meant he would live. He didn't want that. He wanted to die. Die here, as a pathetic heap of trash that no one would remember. He no longer had the strength to hold his gaze at the ceiling at it fell back to his mother's cold, dead, accusing eyes. His mother was dead. Dead. It would rot there until it became nothing but bones and a distant memory long forgotten.

"Dreams relieve you of problems and sorrows that make you weep. Because they're heaven-made, have one and fall asleep. But they're only good if you are surrounded by hallucinations. When you take the blindfold off, there's no more pleasant creations."

He found a single tear slide down his cheek and mix into the puddle of blood below him. He closed his eyes and wished his life away as distant sirens came into earshot. He would die here, with his mother. He would die here, unwanted and broken. He would die. And nothing would stop him from completing that.

XxXxX

Break me down

Emptiness is so real

Never having peace of mind

And there is nowhere left to hide

Familiar shadows closing in

Suffocating fear descends

Take this nothingness from me

XxXxX

Two hours of sleep… I really need to sleep more. Anyway! Depressing story time! Yeah, I don't know what compelled me to write such a story, but I did. Yeah. Odd. So the song used at the top is Survive by Rise Against. The song at the end is Break Me Down by Red. And the song used in the story is Trick and Treat by Len and Rin (Vocaloid)

Anyway, tell me what you think. Didn't like it? I don't blame ya. :P Still trying to break out of this Writer's Block phase. Hopefully that'll be soon. Sorry for the depressingness! Have a good day!

Ice is the heart's death beat, water is the mind's defeat
~roo the psycho