An Offered Hand [AO | TBTP | Closed]

Mako could feel the rhythm of his heart beating inside his head, like a set of war drums pounding away to a maddening beat inside each ear- the presence was growing closer, and closer- his instincts knew the sensation of being cornered all too well. Again, and again, he had felt this sensation radiating through him- the closer the presence got to him the more he could feel his will crumbling. The sensation of terror he was so well used to filling him, like a pitch-black hand grasping his heart, wrapping around it, threatening to crush it in its grasp like a rotten tomato. It was painful, and the sensation was so familiar- but it was not a pain one could grow used to, there was no "becoming numb" to terror- it wasn't like the physical pain that he had long ago stopped caring about, or even noticing really. A slow, steady pain filled his chest as he lowered his head, he had taken refuge from a pile of debris at the side of the alley- a crate and several barrels having been the only source of protection he could find. His terror had forced him to suppress his presence, his fear instinctively making his energy disappear like a wisp of smoke in the night- but it didn't help since the man was already there.

That thought is what made it all the worse; that man. Mako was terrified of all people, but adults were especially bad .. and males, were even worse- combining the two aspects into one was absolutely horrendous to know he was being hunted by one. It brought to the surface memories that made him want to claw at his face and chest, to mark himself, hurt himself so that he was even less attractive to the eyes of others. Anything he could do to not be touched, to not be grabbed, pinned, to feel that sensation of his clothing being shredded as blood ran down his skin from the beating and tearing of his body and skin. He could feel his heart rate increasing by the second, his arms wrapped around his torso as he curled into a ball, his presence hidden, but that wouldn't stop the man forever. He was being hunted, he was going to be hurt again- if he was lucky, if he wasn't, then he'd be hurt by the man then brought back to that shop owner, and whoever else decided he was worth their time to beat and mock. His hands rose up, digging into his matted, dirtied hair as he shivered in pain and fear.

The sensation wrapped around his heart was increasing, he knew this sensation all too well- but he had no idea what to call it but an "Attack", because that was what it felt like. As if his own body was attacking him- his muscles clenched, his teeth bit down so hard that his gums bled, images of the abuse that was to come fluttering through his mind- knowing he could do nothing about it. When the man spoke, it was as if a knife had been drawn to his throat, and there was only terror and silence for several long moments- until his breathing became so heavy that it began to echo within the alleyway. Curled into a fetal position, unable to move, it was clear his location from the sounds of his weak whimpers- not a word said, not a bit of pleading: because there was no point. Pleading, begging, it only made it worse- it made it worse every time. All he could do was wait for the man to grow bored of him, or until he had an opening to try and run once more: neither were likely.

So he sat there, waiting for the moment the debris was ripped away by the man, preparing for the inevitable agony that was soon to reach him. There was no escaping it- there never was, only pain, he had learned that all too well over the years. He was useless, weak, and disgusting- all he could do was endure it, and wish he could just die.

---

Tags: @tags
Post Words: 692
Total Words: 1,577
Total GP so Far: 31

The hands that clenched at his scalp tightened as the energy signature closed in on him, the movement heard by his heightened senses as he waited, his breath coming to a halt, a silent countdown continuing in his mind as he waited for the pain to begin. The hand to extend, grasp him by the hair and drag him away- it would only be a countdown from there before the real pain began, and his stomach churned at the idea of what was to come, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Cold acceptance, if he got lucky then perhaps the man would at least leave him alone once he was done with him.

However, the pain never came.

Indeed- instead there was only the sound of a bag hitting the ground before the man backtracked- Mako didn't move. He remained frozen in place, unable to, initially, understand what was going on until the man began to speak. However, there was a clear difference in their assumptions- Mako didn't move, his head simply lifted, just slightly as he watched him from his "hiding" place. Dead eyes, reddened with bags underneath them stared forward at the man even as he spoke. Initially, there was only confusion as the drumming in his ears continued- he wasn't being grabbed or attacked.

Was he being baited out? But that was illogical, there was no reason he couldn't just grab him. He was far weaker and far smaller- the man would be able to do so without issue. So then what was his angle? What was his goal? His blank eyes simply stared at the man, putting together assumptions, possibilities, what he could possibly be after as his eyes remained glued onto his face- watching every shift of his eyes, every minute motion of his body, anything that could give him a peek into what he was thinking. There was no aggression in his surface emotions, his presence was calm.

For a single, brief instant Mako's eyes slid down toward the money- before lifting back to Murat's face, listening to the words he was speaking. Ah. So that was it- he wanted to put him in his debt, another that masked their actions as "kindness" despite the fact they clearly had no intention of being kind. He just wanted him in his debt. But that didn't matter, he had his food already- and if he took the money, his father would just take it from him and waste it on booze so that he could get drunk and hurt him even more. Slowly, he would remain where he crouched, ignoring the money and instead, watching the man- his terror had melted away.

There was only a blank, emotionless face that now watched him- his natural instincts had kicked in with the immediate threat having apparently been removed. He smiled at him, but there was no response, motioning as if to ask him to move, to adjust or leave- but still, Mako made no move to do so. Moving anywhere a potential predator preferred you at was idiotic, but even more so- even if the man's surface emotions didn't lie, even if he had no ill intent toward him beyond indebting him to the man; moving out in the open meant that someone else would be able to target him instead. He stayed in the shadows, he stayed quiet, he nullified his presence, he disappeared- it was the only way he'd managed to survive this long.

He had no reason to move unless the man threatened him into doing so- and then he would only do so in order to find an opening to escape from him instead. The man finally spoke once more, the words were simple, a statement of his name- and a request for his own. It seemed like a harmless enough request, but he knew how people tended to react to his name. Still .. the situation was clearly not going to disappear if he remained silent and staring at him the man may very well become violent out of annoyance. Offering him some degree of answer would increase his chances, however slightly, of the man simply growing bored of him and leaving so that he could finish eating as best he could before finding a place to try and sleep before he had to return to his father.

"Mako," he finally murmured, his voice monotone- deprived of life, and light, matching his eyes that stared into Murat's own for a single brief moment before he broke eye contact, clearly unable to match the stare of an adult, especially a male.

---

Tags: @tags
Post Words: 772
Total Words: 2,347
Total GP so Far: 46