Blood Games

By DragonMage

Notes: I hope I'm doing good so far on this. *bites lower lip* This is where I'm gonna enter unfamiliar territory. Sorry ever so much if I take too long writing this fic...

< > --Thoughts

// -- Flashbacks

Chapter 1

Chang Wufei walked over to the bathroom connected to his room and turned on the bronze faucets. It first ran cold then hot water after a moment. He shoved his hand into the water and began to wash off the thick, black ichor that had coated his hands after he had ripped out his opponent's heart and threw it at the audience watching the fight that he had won against the biological engineered creature they had set against him.

It had been two weeks since he received that strange letter requesting he met up with a tall, platinum blond haired man at a club. The man had called himself Zechs Merquise...

//"Hello, Mr. Chang," the tall man said smoothly as he stood up from the table he had been sitting at. He was dressed in a neat, black suit and his long hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail with his long bangs framing his smooth, pale face.

"You're Zechs Merquise?" Wufei asked, nodding at the man.

"Yes, I am," the man said, nodding. "I'm glad you came."

"Should we discuss why we're here somewhere private or will we be discussing them out here?" Wufei asked pointedly. He clutched his duffel bag and stared at the man with cold, unblinking eyes. He had came here for answers and he was damn well going to get them.

Zechs smiled. "Ah, I see you're anxious to get to the point. Very well. Follow me."

The man led Wufei out to the parking lot. They got into a sleek black car with Zechs in the driver's seat.

"Do you want me to tell you why I asked you to come out here in the car or in the place?" Zechs asked.

"Where are we going?" Wufei asked, looking over at the man.

Zechs smiled at him. "We're going to the Blood Games mansion where Mr. Dekim is waiting for us."

"Blood Games?" Wufei repeated. He suddenly remembered the initials BG on the stationary paper. <So, that's why BG stands for. Blood Games. Eerie name.>

"Yes. That is where we're going," Zechs said.

"Why?"

"You want explanations now?"

"Yes. I want them now."

"You want to find your wife's killer, correct?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Dekim promises to give you all the information and resources needed to find your wife's killer. But not without something in return," Zechs said smoothly.

"And what is that?" Wufei asked, anxious to know what was going on.

"The Blood Games is sport sponsored by Mr. Dekim and the Barton Foundation. It's a private company with private business unknown to the government and the rest of the public world.

"We set humans against the biological created monsters of Mr. Dekim's labs. The sad thing is that we're short on people who are willing to fight against these creatures for a prize of their choice if they win the entire Game. We need more fighters. Blood Games is almost like the Roman Games. Human against creature in front of a crowd of people."

"And people pay to see this?" Wufei asked in disgust.

Zechs glanced at him. "Yes. They do. A lot."

"I'm not surprised when you say you're short on people willing to fight against these things," Wufei murmured. He stared off into the darkness. "Why me? I'm not special. People are killed every day. Why don't you get someone else?"

"Because we are well aware of your unnatural strength and skill in marital arts and other forms of fighting techniques," Zechs replied in the same, calm cool voice he had used throughout the entire explanation of the Blood Games. It was clear this was very normal procedure for Merquise. "People will love to see you fight against the bio-engineered creatures."

"Sick," Wufei spat.

"Yes, but it's entertainment and the Barton Foundation is set on entertaining the darker world out there," Zechs said with some amusement. "So, do you agree?"

Wufei was silent for a moment. He finally had a chance to find Meiran's killer. "Yes. I agree with your terms. I fight in this Game and you give me the resources needed to exact my revenge for my wife's life."

Zechs smiled coldly. "Wonderful."//

Wufei looked up and stared at the mirror. What was he doing here? He wanted to find Meiran's killer but was this worth it? Was killing all these monsters pit against him really worth it? So far it was only the beginning of the Games and he was being put against the weaker creatures and it was no difficulty bringing them down and amusing the crowd. But he had seen the fights against people who had been in the Games longer and the creatures they were put against were horrible and far too strong in Wufei's opinion. He had seen some get killed. The crowd only cheered harder as they screamed for more blood.

It was sick, wrong and immoral but Wufei wanted to avenge Meiran. It was the only reason why he was doing this in the first place. It was the only reason why he had even considered it. He owed Meiran this much for being a good wife to him. And he was also going to have the chance to silence his guilt. Something that had been eating at him for a very long time.

He picked up a soft towel and wiped his hands dry. He threw it down on the sink and walked into the luxuriously furnished room. He had been surprised when he had been escorted here. He hadn't expected to be given such a room, he had imagined a dank cell or something very Trojan. But this was something much more and he was glad for the comforts. It helped after a fight to rest easy in a clean room.

He looked down at his torn, bloodied clothing and sighed heavily. He stripped them all off and threw it into a laundry shoot for it be cleaned and then returned to him later. He had brought his own clothing but they had also given him a closet full of other clothing. They were actually uniforms that were expected to be worn during the fight. The Barton Foundation sure appreciated consistency among their fighters, thus the uniforms.

Searching through the drawers, Wufei came up with a black pair of boxers. He pulled them on and walked over to his bed. He fell down on to the plush covers and closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax into the wonderfully soft bed. He sighed contently and wished he could stay in the bed forever. It was so nice. So different from the world outside of his room.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on his door.

"Come in."

The door opened and a maid walked into a tray of food. She walked over to the table in the corner of the room and placed the tray down.

"Mr. Merquise congratulates you on your victory and hopes you enjoy your meal. Eat it all for it will restore your energy. You're allowed to go anywhere in the mansion as you please but only under reasonable circumstances are you to go off mansion grounds. You will be notified of when your next fight will happen." Then the maid turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Wufei laid there, unmoving. <The next fight...>

~*~

Quatre Raberba Winner turned his head away in disgust as he watched another creature get slaughtered by a player in the arena. The man--he looked more like a boy--had sliced off the creature's head and now it lay on the floor by his feet. The man kicked the creature down and then turned his heart-shaped face to the crowd, smiling as everyone around Quatre went crazy, cheering on for more blood to be spilled.

<Oh gods, I think I'm going to be sick,> the Arabian thought nauseously. He swore if he didn't get away soon he'd probably end up throwing up his lunch. He took a deep breath and tried to control himself. He couldn't get sick in front of all these people. They would wonder what kind of person he was. Everyone here at the Blood Games had some kind of bloodlust, a desire to see death mete out in the most violent and bloodiest way. If he got sick, they would wonder why he was even doing here and he couldn't let that happen.

"Do you want to go and get some air?" a quiet voice asked beside him.

Quatre turned and smiled wanly at his bodyguard and lover. "No. I'll be all right. I'm just not used to seeing all this blood." He reached up and touched the area of his chest where his heart laid. "It's just bothering me a bit too much than I expected."

Heero Yuy frowned and touched Quatre's forehead. "Are you sure? We can leave and come back later when you're stronger. You don't have to stay."

"Yes, I do," Quatre said firmly. "I agreed to do this, remember? I'm not going to be a chicken and back out. I can handle this."

"But I don't want you hurt yourself," Heero protested. He hated seeing his fragile lover like this, especially in an environment like this one. Quatre's special condition demanded that he always spent his time in a serene, calm environment. Being in a place like this was probably slowly killing him without him knowing it.

"I'll be fine," Quatre insisted even as he felt faint. He could feel the pain of death so sharply; it could almost physically slice into him. He felt so bad for the creature who's head had just been taken off...and even worse for the player who had did it. Any living being didn't deserve this kind of fate. What had caused these people to actually come and voluntarily go up against these creatures? What was their purpose? Their motive? Quatre just didn't understand and he wished he did.

"Fine, we'll stay until the games are over. But afterwards, we go back to the hotel and you get some rest," Heero said firmly.

Quatre smiled and nodded before leaning just a little on Heero for some support. He was well enough to last a few more hours in this place but it didn't mean he was one hundred percent. <Just a few more hours,> he told himself. <A few more hours...>

~*~

Duo Maxwell yanked the axe out of the creature's chest and swiftly sliced off its head with the incredibly sharp edge of the blade. The head slid off the neck stump and fell to the bloodied ground with a wet slapping sound. The thick blood that could only be called ichor splashed onto the torn pants of his uniform. He kicked the body and watched as it fell over, joining the head on the floor. All around him the crowd cheered, going wild over his victory. He looked up and grinned at them, watching as they cheered him on from their seats. An electrical fence surrounded the arena, making sure none of the creatures attempted any kind of attack or escape during the fight, and to protect the spectators.

He flipped his messy braid over his shoulder and raised his axe in a sign of victory. The crowd only screamed louder. He was used to this; he had been fighting for four months already. And even though it had been four months since he entered the Blood Games, he still couldn't get over the high of having a crowd cheering for *him*. This was why he had always wanted to get into show business. He wanted this kind of attention. Too bad he could only get it as a bloody fighter in these barbaric games. Oh well, as long as he continued to win it really didn't matter much to him. He had more important things to concern himself with.

After taking in all the praises for a while, he walked off the area and through an automatic door that opened only for humans. The minute he stepped into the cool corridor, he was surrounded by servants ready to make him as comfortable as possible before he went to his room for some rest. It would be another two weeks before he would fight again. There was always a two-week resting period, just to make sure that the players were in top condition and to fit in all the fights without repeating too many players.

"Mr. Maxwell, I take it that the fight was too easy?" a smooth, deep voice said off to the side. Duo lifted his eyes and stared coldly at the blonde man standing in front of him. Zechs Merquise.

"Yeah. Easy. What are you doing here, Merquise?" the American asked rudely. He found he couldn't really warm up to this particular man. There was something cold, almost malicious, about him that Duo simply didn't like. He was also the same man who had approached him the day after the Maxwell Church Massacre, offering revenge. Duo had been so sick with grief he would have done anything to get revenge. And so, here he was. He didn't exactly hate it, but it was exhausting and mind numbing to fight against creatures that came out of nightmares. He would have preferred some other solution but he was in too deep to back out. A few more months and he would have his revenge against those terrorists who burned the Church to the ground, taking his entire family with it.

"I just wanted to congratulate you. You're doing a wonderful job and I admire your skill. Soon, you'll have your prize," Zechs said, smiling.

"Yeah, my prize," Duo agreed dully. "Is that it? 'Cause I'm tired and I'd like to retire to my room, if you don't mind."

"I also came to tell you that there's a new player. He's right across the hall from you. I just thought you'd be curious." Then Zechs Merquise nodded and walked off, his stride easy and without haste. He was so damn confident, Duo always felt a strong, almost unreasonable urge to punch the platinum blond man.

Duo shook his head and waved away the many people fussing around him before he headed in the opposite direction of Merquise to his quarters. All he wanted to do was get some sleep. Screw the new player. There was always a new player every few weeks or months, depending on how fast Merquise could collect people. Already, since he came to the Blood Games, three players had been killed fighting against one of those freaks of nature. Naturally BG would want new players.

Thoroughly disgusted at what he was involved in, suddenly, Duo walked even faster. Once he was in his room, he could take some pills, and sleep off everything. Once he woke up he knew he would be better.

~*~

//Six Months Ago...

"Nooo!! God, NO!" Duo Maxwell screamed hoarsely as he watched the church burn in front of his eyes even as the firefighters sought to put out the flames.

The stricken boy was on his knees, shaking his head in disbelief. They couldn't be dead! They couldn't! He had seen them, happy and alive only a few hours ago before he went out with some friends. They *couldn't* be dead!!

Tears streamed down his face, as he knew it was a hopeless cause. He had came back from the party the minute the bombs went off. He knew there were no survivors. Watching the Church be blown to nothing had proven that. The firefighters were just making sure the flames didn't spread to the rest of the neighboring houses.

"No!" Duos sobbed, feeling the ache in his heart, in his soul, eat away at him. He had lost them all! All of them! His friends...his *family*. They were his family. His only family throughout all these years as an orphan...He swallowed painfully and continued to cry, unable to stop. He had lost them! Lost them all! If only he had been there...then he wouldn't be suffering this pain. He would have gone with them...

"Son? Are you all right?" the rough voice of a firefighter asked him. "Hey, I know it's hard..."

"Shut up!" Duo snapped, shaking his head. "Just shut up..."

"Look, the ambulance is here. Why don't you go and get yourself checked out?" the firefighter asked gently. "You'll feel better...Get some water, keep warm. Come on, son, get up."

"Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone!" Duo begged. He just wanted to be left to his grief. He didn't give a damn about everything else. He sat there all night on the sidewalk, watching as the fire finally disappeared, leaving behind a charred mess with no survivors. None at all...The fires had been too much. No one could have been saved. No one.

When everyone had gone...when he was finally left alone...he approached by Zechs Merquise. He had been shivering, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs as he stared at what was once the Maxwell Church in a daze, not being able to believe that he had lost everyone, so lost he was in his grief, in his denial.

"Hello," a polite, calm voice addressed him.

"Get the fuck away from me. I don't want any help," he said bitterly. "Just get the fuck away from me or I swear I'll tear you apart."

Merquise knelt down beside him and reached out to brush away his bangs. His fist lashed out but was caught. He was too tired to fight as Merquise dragged him to his feet.

"Listen to me,' that compelling voice urged. "This was a terrorist attack. Someone had planned this. Someone *murdered* your family. Don't you want to know who? Don't you want revenge?"

Duo stared up at the tall man in wonder. "Revenge..?"

"Yes, revenge! Don't you want it?"

"Of course!" Duo blew up. "Of course I want revenge! I want whoever did this to suffer, to die for their crimes!"

"Then come with me. You'll be able to find your revenge if you come with me. I swear," Merquise whispered in his ear.

Duo stared of blindly, not really seeing anything, his mind not really thinking. He was exhausted, body and mind and soul. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and go to sleep forever. But this man was talking about revenge...this man might know who had done this to his family, to everyone he loved.

"What are you talking about?" he finally asked.

"I can give you a chance to find revenge, Duo Maxwell, will you take it?"

"How do you know my name?"

"I know many things. So, do you agree?"

Duo closed his eyes and tried to sort his thoughts. "Right now, I don't know anything. Come back for me when I can think straight." Then he shoved Merquise away and stumbled away, not knowing where he was going.

Two months later Merquise showed up at a cheap hotel for him and he left with the platinum blond man. He had nothing left in life, the best thing to do was focus on revenge until he got back on track.//

Duo tried to forget the bad memories but it was hard when everything he was doing lead back to them. He was fighting in the games to find out who killed his family. Every time he turned he was reminded of why he was here and the night so many months ago.

He pushed open the door to his room but before he went inside he glanced across the hall at the closed door. The last person who had used that room died four weeks ago against some hairy ape looking creature. Kind of strange to have it occupied again by a different person. He wondered if he would ever meet the new player. There were still a lot of players he had yet to meet, either because they were always in the hospital or they just didn't come out at all, always staying in their room. Everyone who fought in the games was always scarred some way, be it physical or emotional. Who could stay okay after facing one of those monsters? They were nightmares and too strong, unnatural. They were something out of this world and it fucked with everyone's perspective on life on a whole and the meaning of it.

Stripping out of his clothing, he stepped into the shower and washed up. He then got out, got dressed and immediately went to bed. The minute his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

~*~

When Wufei woke up he was disorientated and confused about where he was. It took a while to remember everything but once he did he felt sick. It had been two weeks and still he wasn't used to everything. Who could adjust to something like this? His whole world was flipped upside-down the minute he stepped into the arena and saw exactly what he was supposed to go up against.

He had never imagined humans to play god like this. The creature he had been pitted against was a horrible mix between a snake and lizard of some sort. It had been small, slithering and ugly. The minute it was released from its pen, it attacked him. Before blow came to blow, he wondered if this creature had its own purposes as well. It *seemed* intelligent. Was it fighting for it's freedom? If it won all the games, would it be set free? But everyone knew you couldn't let a creature like that to roam free. Even if it had been told that if it fought it would be freed, it would never happen.

Why were humans so obsessed with the idea of creating life, of making things only to end up destroying them? Why did humans play god? It was sick.

The only reason why he was here was because of Meiran. If not, he would have never opened that letter, never contacted that Merquise man about finding Meiran's murderer. He would have just stayed home and continued his job at the University as a professor. Of course, not everyone could have what they wanted. He just hoped these games would end soon and he would come out of them alive. He hated this and he wanted out. Once Meiran was avenged, he planned to move on and live a good, full life without he past to drag him down.

He lay there, staring at nothing. He knew it was the evening and he hadn't eaten any of the food laid out for him. That explained why he was hungry. He sat up and stared at the cold tray of food on the table off to one side of the room. He sighed and fell back down. He would order something else, something hot. He wasn't going to eat cold food, even it if *was* his fault it ended up cold. But he had been so weary...

Fighting back a yawn, Wufei stretched and rolled on to his side, he pulled the extra pillow close and hugged it to his chest. He wondered how he would spend his two weeks of resting before he had to go and fight against another creature. Maybe he would just stay in the room and sleep day in, day out. It sounded like a nice plan. Maybe if he slept long enough he would wake up to find everything was a dream and Meiran was alive.

Fat chance.

The smell and the feeling of ichor on his hands proved his point at how *real* all of this was. He still couldn't forget the way it felt to have the thick ichor ooze over his hands as he clutched the heart of his dead opponent. It had been so easy to shove his arm into the creature's soft chest and rip out the heart he had found. He had been surprised, appalled, at his own vicious behavior. He was a teacher. Teachers didn't act like that! But then, teachers wouldn't have been stupid enough to involve themselves in the Blood Games for revenge on the murder of his wife.

<But now that I'm involved, I can't get out. I have to see this thing to the end--even if it kills me. I'll fight for revenge, Meiran, literally. Know that I am a devoted, honest husband. I will find justice for you, Meiran. I will put your soul to rest,> Wufei promised before he sat up and changed into something more suitable. Then he ordered another meal to be brought up to him. He needed some kind of substance before he passed out from lack of food.

~*~

Quatre's heart pounded heavily in his chest and Heero was almost literally carrying him away from the arena.

"I can't believe I let you stay! Look at you!" Heero ranted furiously as he helped Quatre down the almost empty corridor. They were heading for the doors where their limo was waiting for them.

"I'll be fine. I just need some rest," Quatre said weakly. He cursed himself for his condition. He hated being so weak, unable to handle strong emotions very well, just because he was an empath. His body was also physically weak. He had been a sickly child for as long as he could remember. As he grew older he got stronger but he still wasn't strong enough, not with his empathy ability. That was his gift as well as his curse, his sickness.

"Damn straight you need rest. The minute we get to the hotel, I'm not letting you out until you're better!" Heero scolded. "I would carry you but you have your dignity."

Quatre smiled at Heero. This was why he loved the Japanese man so much, so deeply. He actually realized that even though he was an empath and he was physically weak, it didn't mean he was crippled. He could live life normally, he could eat, walk, talk, and breathe on his own. It was something his parents never saw. Only Heero saw what his potential was, what his limits were, and his lover never treated him like a child, an invalid. He loved the sweet freedom and normalcy that Heero treated him with. No one treated him like that because no one respected him enough. Heero respected him. And loved him.

"Thank you, Heero," the blonde murmured as he reached up to kiss the dark-skinned boy on the cheek. "I love you."

Heero nodded and kissed him back. "I love you too. That's why I hate seeing you like this. You have to take care of yourself, you know. I don't know why you agreed to this."

Quatre shrugged. "You know I love adventures."

"But this?"

The Arabian smiled and slid on his sunglasses before they stepped out into the sunlight out of the building. Their limo was waiting outside, their driver patient. "Don't worry too much, love. Remember? I have you to protect me. I'll be fine."

Heero shook his head and urged Quatre inside of the limo. "You have too much faith in me. What if I *can't* protect you? I don't want to lose you. I would yell at you for agreeing to attend these games but I already did."

"You know since Father died I've had to take on certain responsibilities," Quatre said calmly as he leaned into the leather seats removed his sunglasses. His eyes sensitive and he couldn't handle bright lights very well. That was the only reason why he wore them. Other than that he didn't like sunglasses. They hid and concealed the eyes, and in Quatre's opinion, eyes were the keys to everything and being able to look into Heero's eyes meant a lot to him. That was why always-insisted Heero never wear sunglasses or anything to cover them.

"Yes, but if they don't *kill* you!" Heero exclaimed. He reached out and pull Quatre almost roughly into his arms. He held him tightly and kissed his cheek. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't..."

"I hate to point this out, Quatre, but you're fragile. I'm not going to take any chances."

Quatre turned and looked in Heero's eyes. "Then be beside me, protect me, never leave me. That's all I ask. I can manage this but I need you there. If you're there I can do anything."

Heero pressed a kiss to Quatre's forehead and nodded. "You know I'll always be here. Always. I love you too much to leave you. Gods, Quatre, all I want to do is protect you."

"I know, and you are just being here. I trust you." Quatre relaxed against Heero, resting his cheek on the Japanese man's shoulder. "I love you. I really do. I'm not doing this to give you a heart attack but I *have* to do this. If I don't..."

"I know. I know. But gods, I'm not going to be the one getting a heart attack if we go through another one of those games."

Quatre didn't say anything. He just held Heero even tighter and closed his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope I'm doing a decent job here. *V*