Author's Notes: Not for the faint of heart/stomach/mind. Dedicated to Madmax, this is a favour fic for her. The characters of Trigun don’t belong to me, and neither do Evanescence’s lyrics. The song is titled ‘Haunted’ from their CD ‘Fallen’. Feedback, please!


By Darkangel Rose


Long lost words whispered slowly to me
Still can’t find what keeps me here
When all this time I’ve been so hollow inside -I know you’re still there-

+Vash the Stampede+

I dreamt of you again, Knives. I woke up this morning with the sweat pouring off of me, the screams tearing me to shreds on the inside. Nicholas stirred quietly next to me, mumbling half-formed words of concern. I couldn’t say anything to him, Knives; I still haven’t told him about you – I haven’t told him about anything. I wonder sometimes why he is not more worried when he knows that I awake every other night, howling like a beast, clawing at my face, and crying and crying until my fever-wide eyes have run out of tears.

In my nightmare you were inside me again, and I could actually feel it as though you were here, crushing me beneath the grotesque weight of your ruthless body, like so long ago. Why is it that you must be this way, Knives? Don’t you remember how it was before, when things were good, if just for that short amount of time? Can’t you recall when you didn’t have to force me, when you didn’t have a need for the bitterness or the dark animal lust?

~ You are mine ~

An inexorable shiver courses through me as the far too familiar words ring in my ears. It has been years since I last saw you, but sometimes it feels as though you are right beside me. As though your eyes are raking over me hungrily and your breath is a sickly heat upon my exposed neck. But when I look, you are nowhere near. Am I going crazy, brother? Am I crazy for missing you?

I miss the real you, make no mistake. It may seem simple, but it isn’t. I had to run ... had to get away from this façade, this demon that has possessed you. I miss the true Knives, the one who is my loving brother, the one who held me when I cried and whispered comforting nothings into my ear - the one I have not seen in so long, not since our ships crashed.

I do not miss the hurt. I do not miss the boy – the man who shoved me up against the stone cliffs beneath the burning wreckage of the only home I had ever known, who brutally used my body in an exhibition of mock-intimacy and then left me naked in the cold desert night.

~ You are mine, little Vashu. Always ~

The echoes of you still remain, dear brother, and I know someday I shall have to face the reality. But for now I can do nothing but curl tightly against Nick, so oblivious to my torment, and wish for a forgetful tomorrow.

Watching me
Wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Fearing you
Loving you
I won’t let you pull me down

Do you even know how it feels? It’s not the nightmares that are the worst, though my life has become almost intolerable with them. I do not sleep anymore, for fear of my memories. It’s the guilt, and the blame, it’s not being able to look anyone in the eye. I think the humans can tell when I walk among them. They have the most amazing empathy, humans. They look at me with fear and doubt and caution and pity. It’s like you have marked me and they can smell that I am a broken man. They sense the agony, the disgust, the actuality of the fact that you, my twin brother, raped me. And for that they avoid me, they look away too quickly with the briefest flashes of emotion in their so- expressive eyes.

In the market yesterday something happened that I could not ignore. I was pacing around, and my thoughts drifting back to my consistent dreams of you deflowering me. Then, an old woman touched my shoulder, very gently. I jumped and backed away into a small vendor’s stand. There was no harm done, but after that moment the ancient human regarded me with a wise and caring gaze.

‘Don’t worry’ she told me, smiling a partly tooth-less grin, ‘You’ve been hurt, dear, but it’ll get better. No one can hurt you without you giving them permission first.’ she instructed gravely, touching a finger to my chest.

And I could tell in her eyes that she saw right through my smiling mask, and that she could feel the deep scars you left in me. But before I could question her the woman was gone, and I was left alone amidst the chaos of my mind.

I know we will see each other again Knives, but I have a feeling it’s going to be different this next time. I am not going to let you rule me like this. It is true; I do not blame you for what you have done. It is true; I still love you and always will. But I won’t let you take away the best of me.

Hunting you
I can smell you - alive
You heart pounding my head


+Knives Millions+

You are so close I can almost touch you. So close I can smell you against my skin - I can taste you already upon my lips. Vashu, my beloved twin, it has been far too long. I have craved the feel of your helpless, writhing body beneath mine for too many cold, empty nights. I have dreamt of my completion inside you, and opened my eyes to find no one but that pathetic blue-haired whore who dares to call himself my pet. I do not understand Legato Bluesummers, for he is unlike any human I have heard of. I take him into my room almost weekly, and I destroy him so thoroughly no normal man would live. But after I have finished he remains, barely breathing, bleeding and broken from my forcefulness, and yet still crying in rapture, for he wishes for nothing but my ultimate pleasure.

Yet I can never have satisfaction without you beneath me, I will never be sated unless I am inside you, brother, for you are the only one who deserves me.

You must be aware, somehow, that I am closer to you now. We share dreams, Vashu, don’t you remember? Back on the Seeds ship we would both wake instantaneously, for we had twin nightmares.

I have been having fantasies, recently, of that first time I buried myself deeply into you and felt your suffering all around me in the slick, wet heat and the way you screamed and screamed, but no one was there to hear. Every time I close my eyes I can see you crawling desperately away from me, bare skin shining a ghostly, enticing milky white under the many moons as I thrust deeply into you. I’ll never forget the way you clawed at the dirt like a savage, frightened animal, until your hands started to bleed. You look so beautiful when you are afraid, Vashu, so erotic when you struggle, unknowingly contorting your perfect body into bewitching poses in the devious half-light.

I must have you again, brother, for I will never have enough of you. You are my possession, Vashu, and I’m going to take you back.

Watching me
Wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Saving me
Raping me
Watching me...

+Vash the Stampede+

My footsteps reverberate and bounce off of the stone walls of the alleyway, haunting me in acerbic whispers. for a long time after our first encounter, every time I heard footsteps at night I would crawl beneath the frame of the hotel bed, shaking uncontrollably and curling my knees up beneath my chin in a protective position until the noise had dissipated.

I am reminded of this as I run into you, square on, in the middle of that dingy alley. I do not know what to do, even though I had been subconsciously expecting I’d see you again soon. My throat is empty, my mouth suddenly very dry. I lick my lips nervously, trying to think up a way out of the situation. Apparently that wasn’t such a good idea, for the next second I feel my chest pressed sharply against the abrasive brick wall and your hands are roaming all over my prone body. I shudder in revulsion as you unabashedly press yourself, trapped erection and all, against my back, obviously eager to appease yourself. I turn my head away in disgust, resigning to the situation. Promises are nothing in the end, and I know it. I promised myself I would fight you the next time you assaulted me like this.

But, then, you promised you’d protect me forever, and now you have cornered me like a predator hungry for his prey. I feel your hands, uninvited, wrenching my clothes off, and I bite my lip as the waves of shame and nausea rise like bile in my throat. If I do not resist too much, and I stay perfectly quiet, it usually does not hurt nearly as much as otherwise. It will all be over soon, I am telling myself, though I know it is a lie. You relish my misery, savouring every bit of torment you can give to me.

~ No one can hurt you without your permission ~

How would a human know anything? There is nothing I can do about this, nothing I can do to stop you as you rip away my clothes, straddling me on the cold, scathing cement with your bruising strength. I never struggled after that first time. I got the feeling you were disappointed at me, because you were especially rough right after that as if in attempt to get me to oppose your advances. You are leering down at me, unbuttoning your shirt with agonizing lethargy.

You stop, fingering the small silver cross hanging around my neck, ‘Nicholas Wolfwood?’ you purr, voice feral and lusty, ‘he gave you this? For ... protection? Stupid priest. You think that this symbol can save you from me, Vashu?’ he murmurs accusingly, kissing the silver pendant before ripping it off and tossing it to the blackness of the shadows, where it lands with a small clank.

Nick. For some reason the mention of my lover sets off a warning signal in me. If I don’t stop this now, when will I? What will it do to Nick if he finds out I didn’t even try to escape?

The word bubbles into my throat, so simple, so clear; I wonder why I have not said it in so long.


Your eyes cloud with a dark emotion, fear creeping into the edges of your face. We are in the middle of a human city right now, and even if you could kill every man who may or may not come, it would interrupt and give me the time to escape. Your exquisitely ice-blue eyes narrow to mere slits as your rough hands tighten on my throat, strangling me.

‘Baka,’ you spit, ‘you worthless whore. You try to save yourself because of him? Because of your precious Nick? You have terrible choice in lovers, my twin, and when you find out about the real him, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.’ His grip tightens and I cannot breathe, the white spots blooming across my vision as blurred shouts sound in my head. It must the echo of my own screaming, I think, but then I realize that there is more then one voice, and that they are getting louder.

‘What is this?’ asks a voice, strong, male, and human. I try to look up at him but the blood is in my eyes mingling with the tears. I cannot breathe cannot breathe cannot...

The air rushes into my lungs and I gasp deeply, rubbing my aching neck. I can still feel the press of Knives’ weight on my hips. I swallow once, and then twice, searching for my voice.

‘We were having a ...private ... moment, if you don’t mind, sir.’ Knives replied coldly, sarcasm dripping from his falsely polite words.

The man swims into view ... he has dark hair and eyes, his skin the color of hazelnut, ‘Are you alright?’ he asks me directly, bending down. I see him as upside-down from my angle.

Knives shifts his weight so that he is crushing his knee against my groin. Flowers of incandescent crimson bloom in front of my eyes as the sharp pain rips through me. He is in full control of my recumbent body, but I gnash my teeth and attempt to ignore his actions.

‘Please get him off me.’ I beg, forgetting that this man is only human and that my brother and I are not, ‘Please help me, he’s my – he’s trying to...’ I stammer, and then I am cut short by a sharp intake of breath which I realize is my own, the pain hitting me moments after the knife is buried within my stomach, the crimson river of my blood trickling slowly from the wound down my side and though to pool on the dark ground. An gunshot, and a loud thud as the civilian’s corpse hits the ground, and my brother is back to work, lapping the blood from my newest injury and kneading my skin between his fingers.

This is not how it was meant to be.

I won’t let you pull me down


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