[Insane!Ushia AU] Milieu Morceau

Tsumuri was silent in his memories as he continued to walk. A torch from the hallway was in his hand, lighting his way. But, he was not thinking of his surroundings.

Five months had passed and he had not seen Vincent after that night. Ushia had told him and Libreto that she would have nothing more to do with the musician after such a performance. He had not questioned it, nor pitied the musician. All it had meant was that there was one less in the competion for Mademoiselle Sonoda's hand.

Nor had he been sorry to see the man go. An uneasy mixture of arrogance and shyness, Vincent seemed nothing more than a spoiled scholar. A talented 'pet' of his rich family.

Though now, Tsumuri truly wondered what had become of the man. What did one do? They fall to the streets. The reasoning was not hard to follow. With having disgraced his career, Tsumuri could easily see Vincent's demons tossing him out. Like many others, he would be lost to whatever befell those who wound up in the lower dregs of society.

Even he could feel a twinge of pity at such bleak prospects. That pity faded as one of his toes crashed into yet another coblestone on the corridor base. Yet more curses resounded through the hall, and Tsumuri stopped to look at where he had wound up. A staircase leading downwards loomed before him.

It would only lead him deeper into the depths of this place. But, there is nowhere else I can go. Every other path in that bleak hallway had either lead to a boarded up door, or a dead end.

"What is this place?" Fear had fully entered Tsumuri now. He could recall all of the details of coming to the manor, except for the precious last details of how the night had ended Ushia had invited him to the manor. It had been in celebration, as she informed Tsumuri that she had finally dismissed Libreto as her ally. A cask of wine had been opened in celebration. He could recall his glee at the thought. That the heiress had chosen him, out of all others.

Wine had been offered, and readily accepted by him. Tsumuri remembered walking to Ushia... and nothing else remained.

And on that thought hung a simple word. Wine. It seemed so simple a realization. He'd been drugged. He'd been right in his assumption from the very beginning. Ushia had concocted another. idiotic. game.

The fury and exasperation in Tsumuri was overshadowed by his relief. For if this was a game, then he had nothing to truly fear. All could be now explained.

He reached the bottom of the stairwell, and was presented with a crimson coloured door. As before, the doctor realized he had nowhere else to go. He opened the door and pressed onwards. He turned to close the door, and quickly smothered a scream at what he saw there. A man...

No. It was merely a statue. The "man" before stood before him with his head hung low. The stone was carved to make it look as if his hands were bound before him.

What in Sin's name...? This was morbid even by Ushia's standards... That's assuming this is the Sonoda manor. But, where else? Yet, this was like no place he'd ever seen, in Ushia's manor or anywhere else.

The corridor before him was nothing like the cells behind. Lush, green carpet covered the floor, and Tsumuri welcomed it, as was a far cry better than the cobblestones.

The rest of the decor seemed just as luxurious in comparison. Elegantly cushioned couches and towering bookcases lied neatly against the walls. Several doors lay down the hallway, each leading Sin knows where. Quietly, he made his way down the hallway. Maybe it was due to his surroundings, but for the first time, Tsumuri felt embarassment course through him at his current undress. It would be just his luck to run into one of Ushia's servants down here. Tsumuri flinched as he imagined running into the maid, Dorothe and the responding shriek that would be sure to follow. Eyeing the hallway and it's varied doors, he chose a door at random. Opening it slowly, the doctor peered in.

He held out the torch and froze.

Soft, ripping noises filled the air. They were slight and delicate sounding, he could almost ignore it.

His eyes bulged.

A short, nude figure was crouched on the floor of the small, lightless room. Dark fluid was spilling out around the figure.

It- The man... He's...

The man was bent over his own left arm. Tsumuri could see the sinews of the man's back stick out, prominent and unsettling. The man had been clearly starved, and his skin was pale and sallow, even in the dim light Tsumuri let in. His ribs stood out like thin bars, highly visible through that ill pallor.

But, the man...

White teeth flashed in the dim light, and Tsumuri stumbled back as he saw them descend to the arm. They slowly closed over the pale flesh, and that ripping noise-so delicate-filled the air once more. Blood flowed out over that pale prominent chin as the figure lifted his head, and pulled the flesh away with it. He-It was smiling. The limb was littered with previous bites. Black and weeping, like a row of ruptured eyes. A cry pulled forth from Tsumuri. The figure heard, and stopped.

Slowly, so very slowly, the figure rose and turned. Light from the hallway and Tsumuri's torch fell upon the man and illuminated him.

"Vincent." Tsumuri rasped.

The musician and the doctor eyed each other in shock. Blood continued to slide down Vincent's lips. Green eyes gained recognition. Then he smiled.

"Tsumuri."

The wad of flesh, still unswallowed, slipped from the man's jaws and hit the floor with a squelch. The need to purge resurfaced, and Tsumuri succumbed to it willingly this time. The nausea hit him harder this time, and he felt his legs give out from beneath him. His torch clattered to the ground and flickered out to fading embers. Luckily, he had nothing to give but a meager few spattered drops of fluid. Peering up quickly, he saw that Vincent had not moved or reacted to this at all.

"Tsumuri, my friend! " Vincent grin widened, but all Tsumuri could see was red and black-tinted teeth. The fading embers gave them an eerie shine.

Sin has a smile like that.

The devil threw his arms out at his sides, hands opening in a welcoming gesture. "I've wondered when Ushia would invite you."

"What in Sin's name are you... doing?" Tsumuri managed. He could not take his eyes off the blood coating Vincent's jaw.

Vincent tilted his head forcefully at the question."...?" Then he laughed. "What a question to ask! We haven't seen each other in forever, and yet this is your concern?" He gestured towards his bloodied chin.

Tsumuri quietly inched backwards.

Vincent just watched him wryly. "Ahh... I suppose I can forgive you, Tsumuri. That is what companions are for, no?" He peered around Tsumuri. " I see you are alone as well."

"How... Why are you here? What is this place?" Tsumuri struggled his way to his feet.

The musician made no move towards him, thankfully. Instead he looked around the compact room.

"This is her little Cabinet. Her little project, if you will." Vincent regained his lunatic grin, and raised his arms, as if being blessed by some higher power. Tsumuri doubted it was God.

If only he had thought to run at that moment...

"This is...my nirvana, Tsumuri. My hell. Where I have been broken and rebuilt." Green eyes looked to him earnestly. He lowered his arms. "Ushia is so much more facinating then we could have ever imagined. Her little games have made me learn such great truths." More teeth began to show in his macabre little expression. " I have given up my hobby. Vincent the violinist is no more!" Their seemed to be great pride in these words.

He's cracked. Utterly insane. There's nothing left. Tsumuri registered this immediately. He couldn't stay here. One footstep at a time, he began moving himself farther and farther from the maddened musician. He made eye contact with the taller man, and spoke calmly, smoothly.

"You've given up, eh? That's fine, I suppose." The door was but three more footsteps away. "So what now will you pursue?" Tsumuri barely paid attention to his own words. Vincent had started to move forwards, matching his paces backwards.

He knows. Damn it!

"Pursue? Ah... ha ha ha. The only thing truly worth pursuit, is the search for a fine meal." Vincent raised his bloodied fingers. " And, I have found it."

Those thin fingers curled and pointed at Tsumuri.

"Taste, my friend, is the only thing that matters. You have it," Vincent shrugged. " Or you don't." His grin turned vicious. " But I will know for sure..."

Tsumuri bolted.

Out the door, and down the hall. Laughter hailed after him, echoing in the tiny hall. Footsteps soon followed. He ran into the next open door available, only to slam it closed and bear his weight against it. Shelves surrounded him, packed with books and documents of all kinds. It was a library by all appearances.

There was no apparent exit.

THUD. Tsumuri's entire form jerked forwards as Vincent's frame slamed against the door.

THUD.

Tsumuri braced himself against the door, feeling it shudder with every one of the Vincent's blows. "How are you doing this?" Tsumuri whispered to the air. It seemed impossible that such a thin man could have such strength. As if empowered by his very insanity.

THUD. The door was beginning to buckle, and Tsumuri had the sudden image of the door shattering and splinters being wedged into his spine. He can't let the door go.

THUD.

Can't.

As he guarded the door behind him, Tsumuri looked up and saw a bookcase at the far end of the room.

A small open space lay between it's base and the floor.

The bookcase was covering an exit out.

THUD.

Tsumuri's entire frame jerked as he looked down to see one of the hinges hanging off the door. He braced himself against the door and leapt forward...