Kira

((rated for asexuality, nonasexuality, and some necrohphilia, so if you're corrupted it's not my problem because it would have happened eventually anyway.))

Swinging the Dead

The way I feel about you even when I can't see you and you're no where near

I've never lusted before

Strangers revolting gazes of lust caused my insides to twist and gag

But I forget disgust and nothing unpleasant exists between the two of us

I'm a ravenous beast only for you

I'll bow to my fate and breed like all my fathers before me, only as long as only i'm being with you, my friend

You dusted off the webs and kept my heart warm and pumping

You inhale my life

You exhale it back

You make me more

Better and worse

((It's been a bitch turning this from past tense to present, so, expect more errors then usuall. You won't understand a word. Enjoy))

The sky is black and lacking stars, and the grass is a dull dying yellow. Cold air blows, but not strong enough to swing the long branches of the dark barked trees which lack leaves.

In the clearing of the unhealthy wild grass, sits a deep round pit with steel bars going across the top. No crickets chirp, the only creatures around reside imprisoned in the steep pit.

A filth-consumed boney arm reaches between the narrow metal bars, boney fingers desperately grope the ground of long yellow grass-blades dying near the opening of the pitt.

"I CAN FEEL IT!" the skeleton of a man's shrill voice booms through his wide, nearly toothless smile. "I feel the freedom ... " he sighs out, as his breath escapes his body becomes limp and his boney arm slides back inside the cell, slowly dragging the rest of the body down until the skeleton-of-a-man lies sprawled motionless upon the cold steel floor.

In the opposite side of the cell a shadow sighs in relief. "About bloody time he died already." mutters the man, as he removes his palms from where they shield his ears.

The boney man's head suddenly raises off the hard floor and twistes around to face the rude remark. "Hey, fuck off, you fag! I'm stayin alive long enough to watch YOU drop dead!" he spat back grinding his few remaining teeth together, his few strands of hair dripping sweat and piss from the watertight ground.

"Man, why are they all so mean just before they die?..." moaned the shadowed man, turning his weary gaze off his half dead cell mate and reclining back against the gently curved stainless steel wall.

In effort to avert his gaze off the spiteful, loud, dieing, drama-king, the prisoner's gaze wondered onto the third occupiant of the small smelly steel prison. Unlike his other cell mate, this man was quite, infact he hadn't once herd him make a peep, which should be expected of a man who sits himself in the darkest section of the chamber with his legs crossed, and both arms crossed on his lap, his head hanging far down so that his eyes hide beneath mused hair.

Smacking his hands down on his lap the man decids to investigate his reserved cell mate. Gently folding his knees under him and going down on his hands the curious man carefully crawls toward the silent one, while a chorus of unpleasant snaps from his spine sing after each small step his arms and knees make. Ignoring the small pinches of pain from the lining of his spine he sat himself in front of the still and silent prisoner, he fixed himself upright on his knees and slowly extended a hand out, and with four dirty fingers he gently swept the mucky clumps of hair back from the still man's face, uncovering eyes that quickly opened and gaped back at him.

The wide-eyed what-the-hell-do-you-want stare remained fixed on the man, as a crooked smirk curled one corner of his lips. The words "Don't look at me like that..." snickers past the smirk then a small portion of tongue sticks out at the anti-welcoming eyes of the quiet stranger. "I was only curious to wether or not you were still alive." The man explains with the corners of his lips curling further up his face. "I was afraid I'd be the only one left alive in this shit filled box ... " he added watching as the stranger's eyes become placid and a lose some of their irked luster. Despite the hollowness in the deeply reserved man's blind eyes the spritely man continues. "Actually right now i'm kinda wishin you had been dead, cause i'm pretty sure i'd have a better chance with your courpse then i would have with you alive, because you are obviously not swinging my way." he stated bluntly with his grin slowly becoming bashful and small. Something flashed in the man's vacant eyes and some unreadable emotion broiled behind them. This paused the prisoner lips cold, but the small smirk remained, then finally a sigh escaped between his frozen lips. "Crap...I've become one of those prisoners that are open and honest about everything, but why shouldn't I be, really? We all might die at any moment, right? I've only survived two battles and that is out of stoner-luck." he sat himself next to the man with his back against the wall and continued with his eyes staring blindly forward. "I really don't want to die." he added frankly, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

There was a extension of silence, but the talkative prisoner was patient and awaited a response.

The reserved prisoner closed his eyes gently and his head bowed further down. "You make me sick. Why are you telling me all this? What do you hope to gain from telling me all your personal fears? Stay the hell away from me. " growled the silent prisoner, with only his lips moving, and his eyes still gently cealed.

"Don't be so closeminded. If you haven't noticed, there's no girls around. What's shame going to get you in death?" retorted the prisoner. " Or are you one of those religious types?" the prisoner's smirk returned. "hehe, f'raid the devil will make you his bitch for doing it with a man?"

"Circumstances don't matter, they don't change who a person is. It wouldn't matter, even if you were a girl, and we weren't prisoners about to die." counters the second prisoner, raising his chin and his eyes open to glare downward at the filth covered floor.

"Don't you want some pleasure before your inevitable and most likely painful death?" questions the man, his eyes gazing off to the side at his fellow prisoner.

"No."

"You must think sex is shameful and dirty, and you only intend on sharing that perverted act with a rare person. I however consider sex to be pleasurable and dirty, something that can be shared with any number of people. So see me as you like. " the prisoner sighed through his smile, then turned his eyes off his prison mate. "But just know, I am capable of other thoughts that don't involve sex. If you had cards I would play with you. Or we can be really gay and talk about our feelings." he continued.

The silent prisoner set his rigid back against the wall, like his perplexing fellow prisoner, yet kept his dull eyes fixed on the steel floor.

After a while the reserved prisoner pointed a finger and dryly said "I think the other dude kicked the bucket, why don't you get your kicks?"

"No." replied the man curtly.

"Why not?"

"He's mean."

"and that's code for; he's not good looking enough?"

"You calling me shallow now too? You don't exactly look like such a great catch right now either." remarked the man smugly folding his arms.

At that the quiet prisoner took on a small grin that promptly dissolved back into his stoic face. He reached out a hand and rubbed the grime and filth from the steel floor, leaving a clean round space where he could see his own reflection, and leaned forward. His fellow prisoner was right. His rich locks of hair were matted down with dirt like gell, his face was covered in a foundation of dirt and dust which concealed his skin color, and he couldn't even recognize the clothes he was wearing because they were torn almost too worse to wear. The rare grin returned to his face.

"You like what you see?" questioned the man curiously.

The grin unblossomed and the man lay back against the wall again.

"You can barely tell all of us apart." added the man.

"So then, why come on to me?" asked the silent one.

"You're a good person. That guy lying in the middle of the floor there," he pointed a finger at the third, motionless man. "He's a jackass, even if he wasn't trapped in a death game."

The supposedly-dead third man growled back. "Fuck you." without moving from where he lay.

Silence...

"The next time we get released out on that battle ground I will let myself die, that's the only way out of this game..."

This time a sour scowl crossed the other prisoner's face. "I'm not just going to die!" he shot back rebeliously, clenching his fists in front of him before falling quiet and glum. "You can't understand..." he uttered under his breath as he crossed his arms and gently closed his eyes as well.

The silent one's eyes slowly turn onto the other prisoner. "You have someone waiting for you back where ever it is you came from?" he inquires.

The man knodded quickly with a firm scowl, as his eyes gaze forward strongly. "my dog."

"What?"

"I locked her inside the house before I got into this mess..." he confided, bitting into his lower lip, his eyes growing round "it won't be long before she runs out of food and starts eating my leather coach..." his grin returned and his rigid shoulders laxed.

The man put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pen and scrap of paper, he placed the small thing in the palm of his hand and scratched on it with his pen. When he was done scribbling he turned to the silent man next to him. "If you make it out and I don't, will you let my dog out of my house for me?" he asked with pleading round eyes, as he held out the scrap of paper where his address was written in shaky writting.

The quiet man removes his gaze off him, and his head only bows deeper. "I told you. I don't plan to live."

The man places his hands in his lap and stares dejectedly down at the small scrap of paper in his palm.

Still sitting bowed and still as stone. "Promise me you won't fuck my courpse." utters the silent one.

The other man's eyes turned wide and his whole body twitched from the blunt request. Then he manages to reply. "Wow, you're really bent on this celebate thing..."

The reserved one's bowed face twists at an angle and his narrow eyes flare viciously into the man's wide befuddled ones. "Promise me or you die."