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The Darkness	By : Cyndiana Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1319 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Darkness
- 1
TITLE: The Darkness
AUTHOR: Cyndiana
RATING: NC-17 for graphic depiction of M/M sexuality bordering on non-con, violence, and some language.
ARCHIVE: A Feather in the Blood (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/afeatherintheblood/)
PAIRING: Brief description of Paul/Schneider, Schneider/Richard.
SYNOPSIS: Schneider thinks he can hide his true nature from everyone, including himself, but a mysterious stranger brings his soul into the light.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: This was written in answer to a challenge waged by a member of AFITB. Let’s hope I met the challenge well. ^^ It was to include:
1. A stalker
2. David Hasselhoff
3. A crazed fan-boy
4. A llama or alpaca
5. A pavlova (its a meringue with real cream on top with cherries, strawberries, kiwi fruit, passion fruit and other yummy fruits in season.)
6. A purple, slinky dress
AND
It had to be set in Australia.
I use the phrase “Nur dich…” which in German means “Only you…”, just so you know.
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. It is not a statement of fact in ANY way. It was not written for profit.

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The purple, slinky dress lay in shambles on the hotel room floor.

His unwitting fiancée sleeps peacefully, face alight with love, smile spread across her flushed, olive cheeks.

Schneider sits on the edge of the bed, swilling a bottle of Russian fire water she gave him when she arrived in Dortmund, coming home.

Home…his home, once…THEIR home…

Not their home in the respect of his and hers, but his and…his…The love he once knew, the love he forsook for a secret…He rubs his chin as a lovely new beard grows in…To match the one now sleeping beside him.

He knew he needed sleep to be able to deal with their flight to Australia in the morning, but sleep was not forthcoming, so he kept drinking, hoping the alcohol would numb his thoughts and flow like a river, allowing him safe passage to slumber. No such luck.

Somehow, he awoke as sun spilled onto the floor, and so did he…He found himself half on, half off the bed as if he had been tossed like a pair of dirty undergarments…

His future bride was no where to be found, and he figured she had probably had a good morning laugh at his expense…

He was trying to figure out just when he fell asleep. His head hurt from the effort, so he resolved to simply dress, and go downstairs for a quick bite before they had to head out the door.

After a quick shower, he slipped into a pair of black boots, black jeans, a floral tee with a half-buttoned black silk dress shirt over it.

He gelled his brown curls, shaved, put on his moisturizer and cologne, and wandered downstairs.

His bride sat at the breakfast table, reading the paper, and nibbling her meal, sipping her coffee.

“Good morning.” she chirped, sliding a bowl over to him.

“Hmmm…” he mumbled, “What’s this?”

“Pavlova…”

“Isn’t that a dessert?”

“It’s got cream and fresh fruit. Where I come from, that’s breakfast.” she giggled in reply.

“I like where you come from.” Schneider replied, taking a few bites of the fresh, creamy concoction.

After their meal, they gathered luggage, arrived at the airport, and flew out for Sydney.

Rammstein had some press to do there, and Schneider’s fiancée wanted to do some shopping and sightseeing.

No sooner did the plane land, that they had to part ways, so Schneider could make the first press meeting on time.

He took a cab and fled for the section of the hotel ballroom down town where the media circus had gathered.

Paul jogged up to him, and quickly embraced him.

“Thank God, Schnei, you made it! Hurry up, the sharks are circling.” he teased.

They answered the same, old, boring questions about “Reise, Reise”, the possibility of an Australian tour, wives, girlfriends…

Then, the questions fell on Schneider’s upcoming wedding.

Richard shuffled noticeably in his seat during every one, and grew more and more perturbed.

After the press meeting, he hopped up, and stormed out.

Paul eyed him sympathetically as he left, then his brown eyes fell upon Schneider.

“He’s still sore about it all.” he said evenly.

“Oh, he can leave me, and all of Germany, for a scam marriage, but heaven forbid I find a bit of happiness.”

“Have you?” Paul asked, lips curled in a dubious grin.

“Go suck a fucking llama, Paul.”

“Oh, a llama, that’s creative. You should trademark that, make it your catchphrase. ‘Hey Schneider, I heard you’re a closet homo!’ ‘Go suck a fucking llama!’ “ Paul teased.

Schneider was not amused in the slightest, and stormed off.

“Does no one in this band have a sense of fucking HUMOR?” Paul asked with great dramatic flourish.

“No.” Till replied, putting his arm around Paul, “Richard’s had his heart broken, and Schneider is living in denial. You can’t expect either of them to be too happy.”

“Hey, Schneider broke my heart, too, REMEMBER? But I can laugh about it, can’t I?” Paul quipped, laughing, then going into mock weeping, burying his face in Till’s chest.

“You are pathetic… And I need a drink. You coming?” Till invited.

“Not yet big boy, but after a couple of those drinks, we shall see, now won’t we?”

Till laughed deep in his gut. “No, we won’t…”

“Curses, foiled again.” Paul cursed, as the remaining four Rammsteiners left for the nearest bar.

Schneider soon rejoined his fiancée, and they spent the day shopping, talking, laughing…Making the general populace quite nauseated.

Richard lay in his hotel room bed, staring up at the ceiling, until he heard a knock at the door.

“Unless the hotel is burning down, go away!” he hissed at the disturbance.

The door swung open, and Paul entered, pouncing atop him.

“I shall have to call the desk and report this giant, annoying deer tick problem they have.” he said dryly as Paul lay atop him like a quilt.

“Don’t be so sad, Reeshy…You’re in Australia, the gay capital of all the world. Surely you can find some twink to take your mind off ol’ ‘What’s his ass?’ .”

“And what an ass…” Richard responded with a deep sigh.

“Yours is better.” Paul quipped, then blushed, “Not that I’ve looked, or anything.”

Richard pushed Paul where he rolled beside him.

“You know as well as I do there’s only one Schneider…He’s sugar when all else is saccharin…”

“Ah, Richard the bard…Pray tell, good sir, recite me more poetry!”

“Why do I bother talking to you? You can’t be serious for one second about a god-damned thing!” Richard replied with a soft chuckle.

“Why be serious? There’s no fun in it.”

“I dunno…I miss him, Paul…Terribly. And, I know now how he felt when I married Caron. It was a double betrayal…Once that it was not him, twice it was not a man.”

“The tests are still out that Caron wasn’t a man, because she was kinda butch, I could have sworn that one day she had a 5 o’clock shadow…”

“You’re deplorable.”

“Don’t use big words Richard, you’ll chip a tooth.”

“Ok, you’re a faggoty ass-hole.”

“That’s better. Hey, look…The others are still at the bar. Want to go watch them get shit-faced?”

“We ALWAYS watch them get shit-faced.”

“And does it ever get old?”

“Nope. Let me get dressed and I’ll join you.”

Paul sits cross-legged on the bed as Richard rises.

“I said I’m going to get dressed, Paul.”

“Ja, I heard. I’m waiting.”

“Paul…Go.” Richard dismissed him, pointing to the door.

“FINE…See you downstairs.” Paul pouted, kissed him on the cheek, then mournfully descended the stairs to the bar below.

Meanwhile, leering eyes watched every move Schneider and his bride made through downtown Sydney…

Every item they bought, every sip they took of their drinks, every kiss…He knew it…

…And loathed it.

“You’re ruining my stories, you bastard!” he hissed under his breath, “You love Richard…You don’t love HER…EVERYONE knows it, why are you hiding it? Oh you’ll pay, Schatz, I promise you!”

He rose and followed as Schneider and his fiancée left for another shop.

Schneider saw the shop only took cash.

“Engel, I have to find an ATM. Go ahead and browse, and I’ll bring you some money.”

“Ok, sweetheart.” she replied, kissing him gently as he departed.

Evening was creeping out over the horizon, and the day was growing darker. Something nipped at Schneider’s gut, but he did not heed it. He still searched for an ATM, and neglected to see the young man that seemed to shadow his every step.

He found one, and stepped up to it, punching in his pin number.

He withdrew $500 Australian dollars, and turned to go, only to be face to face with a fair-haired, blue eyed boy, no older than 16 or 17.

“Hallo, Schneider..”

“Uhm…I’m finished with this ATM, if you need it.” Schneider stammered, trying to get away. The boy slammed him against the brick wall.

“The ATM can’t give me what I need, Schneider, but you can.” the boy said coldly, as Schneider gripped his head, moaning.

“What do you want? My money? It’s yours, please, don’t hurt me. Take it and run…” Schneider pled, holding up his wallet.

“You are foolish, and a coward…I’ve never written you that way…You disappoint me, Schneider.” The boy mused, lifting Schneider to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

“What do you mean, you write me? I don’t understand, what do you WANT?”

“Currently?”

“YES!”

“I want you to take a little nap, then we’re gonna take us a little trip…”

And with that, the boy slammed Schneider’s head against cold brick until he passed out.

Schneider awoke, bound to a chair.

His head hurt, and a dull sound rang in his ears.

Then, a rushing, like ocean waves lapping against his eardrums…

Then everything came into focus: sounds, smells, sights…

He was in a sparsely furnished room, and a bare light bulb swung over his head.

He heard a soft, crunching noise to his left, out of his field of vision.

The boy stepped in front of him, a bag of potato crisps in his hand, munching happily away, leering at Schneider.

“I love these, but they get my hands so greasy…” and with that, he wiped his hands on Schneider’s silk shirt, “MUCH better.”

“What the FUCK do you want with me?” Schneider hissed, his eyes screwing shut for a moment as pain shot across his forehead.

“I want you to come clean with me, Schneider. That’s what I want…You see…You are the star of all my stories. But in my stories, you aren’t running off with some floozy. You love men. All kinds of men, most often your band mates, but not always. You’re a faggot in all my stories…Want to know WHY? Because I know, and you know you’re a faggot in real life, too. So, why deny it, Schneider? Why hide under a skirt that you aren’t WEARING?”

“I love my fiancée, not that it is ANY of your business!” Schneider yelled at his captor, struggling against his bonds.

“No, no, no…Wrong answer Schneider…” the boy cooed, striking Schneider hard across his left cheek, making it shine fiery red, then darken to soft violet…

“Ohhhhhhh….I see….” Schneider began, spitting out blood, then continuing, “You’re one of those fucked up fan boys…”

“If you’re going to label me, I’d prefer you called me a stalker. At least it takes skill and stealth to follow you over three continents without you realizing I’m there.”

“What?” Schneider queried, skin growing pallid with fear.

“That’s right. I was THERE when you took that last trip to Manhattan. When you fucked Richard like there was no tomorrow, then dropped the bombshell that you were getting married, and that you and he were over. VERY touching, tearful ending to that one. And, I was there when you returned to Dortmund to meet up with your lady fair…And now we’re here…That makes one, two…yes, three continents…I am quite proud of myself actually.” The boy beamed, throwing the empty crisps bag at Schneider.

“So, now what? You kill me? Torture me? You’re obviously of a VERY devious mind, please, don’t keep your plans secret. I’m DYING to know what you have in store for me.”

“Funny you should use the word ‘dying’…No, no, no, I’m not getting rid of you yet. First, I have to purge you of your wicked, wicked thoughts.”

“My wicked thoughts? PURGE me? Oh, this I have to hear. And just how do you plan to carry out this so-called ‘purging’?”

The boy grabbed the back of the chair, and tilted it backward, so he could easily drag Schneider across the concrete floor, into a darkened room. Schneider felt his bonds, handcuffs, undone long enough to free his right wrist, and free his hands from the chair, then it was rebound, and he was thrown on a mattress. A chain was run around the chain of the cuffs, and fastened above him, to a fixture above the headboard.

“Now then. To purge you.”

“Ok, you’ve had your fun, I’m scared, ok? Let me go and everything will be ok. You haven’t really harmed me, so nothing to tell, right?”

“Nope. You’ll still run back to her, whether you tell, or not. And, you will have learned nothing. Now then, be a good boy and lie still for me.”

Schneider trembled out of fear, and a slight anticipation of what was to occur. The hairs on the back of his neck stood as tall as they could manage, and his skin prickled with goose bumps…He lost all track of the line that defined terror and…arousal…

He heard the boy’s clothes falling away, but it was far too dark to see anything…But, he could feel, and his nerves ached to feel everything…He felt the boy fall atop him, and kiss him with a hunger Schneider had only felt once before…From Richard’s lips.

His better judgment screamed at him to fight back, but his true, primal nature took the helm, and all he wanted was for this boy to take him, to wrench out of him the man that he kept locked up inside him…The man who longed for the tender affections of other men…The man he truly was.

He felt cold violation as the boy’s lubed fingers worked their way inside him, and a scream left his throat…He arched up into the boy’s embrace, returning his hot, lusting kisses…His every minute muscle clenched and quivered, wanting, needing, PRAYING for more contact, more passionate intimacy, and soon, his prayers were answered.

The boy climbed atop him, and he slid into him, thrusting slow and deep, filling Schneider, probing for just the right spot to make him submit completely. Soon, he found it, and Schneider sobbed and wailed with passionate abandon, kissing and clinging to the boy like he was his last hope to silence his inner turmoil.

“Say it, say it, say you’re a faggot! Say you like being fucked by a man!”

“I do! I like it! I’m a faggot…I’m a fag…” Schneider sobbed, as the boy gripped him tightly.

It didn’t take long for the boy to explode inside him, and Schneider followed, weeping from a pain and pleasure so deep and simultaneous, he thought it’d kill him.

He lay back, weeping, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

The boy brushed his lips over Schneider’s a moment, then the boy rose, and Schneider heard him walking away.

“Don’t…don’t…don’t leave me…Please…PLEASE….DON’T!!!” Schneider sobbed and screamed, chest heaving from the force of it, “Why!!!!! WHY!!!! Oh GOD!!!!”

It was hours before he was found.

By then, he had wept himself to exhaustion, and dehydration. He could barely hold his head up when the police arrived.

They freed him of his bonds, and he blacked out collapsing in an officer’s arms.

He awoke to the blaring of a television.

“Knight Rider” was on. He could tell because he saw David Hasselhoff frolicking across the screen, then heard that fucking car talk. He always hated that show, but it always seemed to amuse…

…Richard.

“Engel, you’re awake.” Richard cooed, nuzzling Schneider’s cheek.

“Where…where…am I?”

“Hospital, love. You were abducted, and beat up pretty bad, and you were…you were…”

Richard looked away, as the words caught in his throat, and tears began to stream down his cheeks.

“I know what happened, I remember it.”

“Oh that’s…that’s good…Well, not GOOD, but you have you memory. You had a slow bleed in the brain, so they were afraid that…”

“Where’s my girlfriend?”

“She…umm…She…Oh Schneider, she’s gone. It’s been all over the news, what’s happened to you, and she was…humiliated, and she left.”

Schneider began to softly cry, then laugh all at once.

“Schneider?”

“Women, huh? I don’t know why I ever wasted my time on one.”

“That’s what you wanted…”

“No, what I WANTED was to be what I thought everyone else wanted, and fuck everyone that truly mattered.”

“Then…What do you want, Schneider?”

Schneider held out his arms, and Richard came near. Schneider embraced him tightly.

“Nur dich, Reeschen…Nur dich…”

Sometimes it takes your darkest hour to make you see the light.

Just as it takes light to see through the darkness, and find your way home.

DIE ENDE
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The Darkness