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"I wish you loved me as I love you. But you're simply bound by the contract that binds us."
Killua, the heir to the Zoldyck family of assassins, has never understood true love. Unable to trust the psychotic and manipulative nature of his famil...
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Killua's feet dragged as he approached the manor, he loosely remembers his mother screaming at him and hitting him upon his arrival but he was too depressed to care. His toes began to twitch as he felt his body dangle from the chains attached to the ceiling. His digits were turning numb from the cold. In the dungeons of the manor any water that leaked through would quickly turn to ice due to the chilling temperature and Killua could see his tiny breaths when he needed to breathe. But that cold felt nothing compared to how cold he felt internally.
He never realized how much he enjoyed being around Kamine and Gon until he was separated from them, without them it just seems like the world got three shades duller. Deep down the selfish part of him wanted to break away and become friends with Gon and Kamine but Illumi's words rang in his head, locking him in place. "If you end up staying with them, you'll just end up wondering whether or not you can kill them."
Killua was so afraid of that, anything would be better than that reality. Killua couldn't bare to be the one to murder the only two people who brought light into his world. So Killua endured it, the taunts, the whips, the burns, the cutting; all the things his mother and Milluki inflicted on him as revenge for his escape. Surprisingly, he actually enjoyed the pain slightly; it was a pleasant distraction from his thoughts and any feeling was better than the feeling of emptiness that consumed him when they were gone.
After a few hours of torture his wounds began to sear as blood dripped down his chest and onto the floor. He found himself subconsciously looking at the door, wondering when Kamine would come to patch up his wounds. She always did that, to prevent excessive scarring on his body. He gave a soft smile, he could almost imagine her coming in, washing his face before applying ointment to his wounds. She would then wash the blood from his bangs, brushing them back gently as she snipped away any overgrown or particularly bloody pieces.
Killua always enjoyed it when Kamine played with his hair. The feeling relaxed him, in fact, it was quite literally the only thing he looked forward to while being tortured. He began to sway impatiently as he awaited the female, she was never late and Killua was growing impatient.
The sound of keys jingling had his heart jumping with excitement as the door to his cellar cracked open. He gave a wide smile as he watched the female enter the room, her beautiful midnight-black hair being just a little lighter than he remembered it. "Kamine!" He beamed in excitement as his smile suddenly dropped.
"E-Excuse me... y-young master. I've come to d-dress your wounds." A new squeaky butler mentioned. She looked similar to Kamine, her hair was tied in double braids as she was almost about the same height and she did have similar features, but to Killua nothing was the same. Kamine's silky midnight black hair was replaced with grungy locks of murky brown that tangled around in an attempt to model the precision of Kamine's almost perfect braids. Her skin was about four shades tanner than Kamine's porcelain pale skin as her skin was littered with freckles, birthmarks and acne scars. Her defined features made it obvious that, despite her height, she was at least five years older than Kamine and clearly older than himself.
