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Black Tiger Eyes	By : hopeless6black13angel Category: +S through Z > Winx Club Views: 2449 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Winx Club, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Black Tiger Eyes
- 1
All his life, he was worthless, until changes began to turn his life to sin. At last, he might just have a savior, but the Fairy princess is just as forbidden as the light she walks on. However, can he ever be saved or will he corrupt her as well? Song fic

Prologue
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this, and nothing more."

Most couldn’t remember him, the way he stalked about alone. He was a loner, a loser. A black sheep amongst prize-winning flocks. He had showed promise in his earlier years, yet he couldn’t graduate from being a freshman. He couldn’t wield a sword properly without causing injury to himself. It was amazing that he has lasted this long.

A pathetic, dead last.

The beginning of his fourth year at the school began as usual. He walked in, he was ignored. When he reached the hallways, he was noticed. Many wrinkled their noses at him in disgust. He couldn’t help but be noticed, in his tainted uniform. No longer blue and white, it had been dyed black with bits of gray, the stripes remobilized to resemble the unique pattern of a tiger’s stripes. Heavy, black combat boots replaced the standard, soft white, making quenching sounds as though he’d been outside in the watered ground.

It was annoying, but not one said anything. He looked dangerous, with bandages covering his face as though he had been in a recent fight. It wasn’t because they were afraid of him. They just knew it was a last cause.

He went inside the cafeteria and sat in the corner, head bent forward with eyes close. He looked asleep, but when he stayed like this, he could hear all that was said.

“It’s good to be back. I almost missed this place.” Who was that? Oh yes. The pampered blonde prince, Skye.

“Nah. You’re just happy that you can see Bloom again.” Another pampered prince, Brandon.

“Oh yeah? Like you any different. Riiiiight?”

Brandon chuckled. “Guilty as charge.”

He growled. And the call themselves Heroes? Even he, the nobody, had better pride than that.

He got up and trekked their way.

(He was envious.)

He threw the table to the side.

(Why couldn’t he love or be loved?)

“Hey!” Skye protested.

He struck his right cheek in a loud hit.

(Why were they afraid?)

“Run! Run away!” They all ran from him. As though he were some kind of monster.

He punched Brandon in the stomach. Hard.

I hate you.

He glanced at the fallen boys, strange, cobalt silver with the slanted pupils flashing.

I wish you would die.

A silence ensured, broking by the quenching of wet boots.

Disappear.

Without another word, he left in coldness, showing no remorse or regret he should have felt. Attacking innocent people like that. Yet the crazed voice inside him told him all he needed to feel.

They didn’t deserve it. You did.

You cold, sad monster.

****

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had tried to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Nameless here for evermore.

Practice. The only place he ever allowed someone to beat him to the ground. What was the use? If he fought back, he would only make a fool of himself.

“Ko!”

He fell to the ground, heavily. His body made a loud thump! His opponent smirked, gloating over his victory.

“Yeah. Taste the dirt, dead last,” the senior spat and walked away.

He laid there, pondering his life.

A life is not a life, when you so badly want to die.

He got up and throws his wooden sword to the side. He slams himself against the wall, head down.

The instructor glanced at him, before announcing the next match.

The same, always the same. When they attack him, the sword falls. He then attacks by instinct, with fists and bloody fury.

Like an animal.

He nearly kills them.

“Tora.”

He glanced up. The old man who was Headmaster looks at him with a cold, stern eye.

“Come with me,” he said and with his long staff, leads the way.

Tora silently follows.

I have a name.

What for? If all I am… is a failure.

***

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more."

The Headmaster office. A familiar sight. Tora was made to sit in one of the chairs, facing the Headmaster of Red Fountain.

A short, stern old man with a mane of white hair, the Headmaster frowned at the young man before him. At seventeen, he was the oldest of the freshman. At first, it was understandable. He had trouble in P.E., especially swordplay. He aced his other classes which allowed him to repeat the years. But last year…

He failed all his classes.

“Tora,” he began. “I must say, I am very disappointed. You have so much talent. Why throw it away? If you need help, of course you can ask-”

“I want to withdraw.”

The words, so softly spoken, sent the Headmaster into a sputtering shock. “W-what?”

“I want to withdraw,” Tora repeated, “because there is no hope for me.”

“You don’t mean that,” the Headmaster protested.

“I do. You and I both fucking know there is no hope for me. Goodbye, and I’m sorry for wasting your time.” He left, leaving behind a gaping man. He leaned against the heavy oak and grinned.

“Good bye, old fucker.”

***

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you " — here I opened wide the door; —
Darkness there and nothing more.

Loneliness is a bitch. Gnawing at the soul, mocking its stupidity. Kicked out of the Orphanage, left to rot.

Living off of garbage and charity, Tora wanders through the days. Without the school to distract him, he finds himself thinking.

Father.

A person without a face.

Mother.

A fading memory of a woman’s back, never acknowledging a child’s cries.

Family.

A meaningless word.

Friend.

Never heard of it.

Looking back, he sees how much of shit he endured in his short life. His dad dying, his mother abandoning him, the horrors of the Orphanage. His being found as “The Ideal Hero,” realizing that suck a feat will never occur. Finally, here. Living on the streets, fighting dogs for scrapes of food, receiving change from sympathetic and disgusted people.

Some life.

He trudged over to a café, much to the horror of some Fairies there. He remembered them, having fought alongside them in the battle against the Witches. They had been ogling him back then.

Tch. Fucking whores.

Tora didn’t know what they saw in him. He hated mirrors, was afraid of them. Never seeing his own image in all of his seventeen years. Afraid of what he would see, Tora avoided them like the plague.

He sat heavily in a chair, momentarily dizzy.

One minute, then I’ll go. I’ll rest for one minute, then I’ll leave.

Tora closed his eyes.

***

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" —
Merely this, and nothing more.

He felt warm. It was strange, for the Orphanage threw everything away, all he had to his name. Only a large coat, too large to even give warmth, his father’s coat. It was all he had.

Only this was left, nothing more.

(He was dead. Killed by a little sickness)

How pathetic.

Pathetic.

Pathetic beast!

Pathetic loser!

(A pathetic end for a pathetic beast)

“Wake up.”

Ho? What’s this?

Who are you, little lamb?

“You’re not dead, and this place is far from Heaven. So wake up. You’re not exactly ‘light’, you know? Despite you being skinny and all.”

Tora opened his eyes. Terror and panic gripped his heart, yet he forced himself to be calm. If there was one thing he learned during his time at school, it was to think rationally. He looked around.

A room, he was in a room with the windows shut. Boarded closed until only flickers of light shone through.

“Oi.”

He looked to the right, a young woman two years junior stood glaring. Darkness. The word alone could describe her. Black eyes, black hair. Brown skin.

A beast in human form.

“What is your name?” she asked, heavily laced with an accent.

“Dead last,” he answered.

He was smacked. Never saw it coming. He groaned and clutched his head.

“Don’t be funny lad. Now tell me your name and not some crappy nickname,” she snapped.

How can you give a name rarely used?

“Tora.”

“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.” She went to his left side, purposely avoiding the light that shone through. “It took an arm and a leg to track you down,” she said, grabbing his left arm to reveal it to be a bandaged. “You’re a hard one to find. Unlike the dragon fire, who shows off her power at every chance. Snobby bitch.”

“You do know I don’t have a fucking clue what the fucking clue what the fuck are you talking about,” Tora told her bluntly, not masking his boredom.

“I bet you don’t. seeing as that bitch, fucking whore, god I hate her. I’ve always knew she had that nature. Anyways, she left ye to the streets without telling you what you are. Forsaken by the Goddess herself. For shame.”

“Again, no fucking clue,” he said.

“Tora, no one knows where you came from. But all I know that you have to join our cause before other forces lead you astray,” she said.

“Like you’re one to talk,” he muttered.

Again, he was smacked. “Shut up and listen. Do you want a job?”

“Do I want a what?”

She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Do you want a job?” she repeated.

“Depends on what I have to do. Otherwise, I’ll take my chances on the streets.” Tora moved to sit up, but was pushed back down.

“Nuh, uh. You’ve been asleep for three days, near death and you want to go back to that hellhole?” she asked almost incredulously at his stupidity. “No. I didn’t save you for no reason. Besides, you’re better off with me than any one else who has their eye on you.”

“Then why save me at all if I were to be a burden?” Tora asked.

“Why don’t you work for me and find out?” she returned.

He laid back with a sigh. What the hell? He didn’t have other options, did he? Hell, he did even have a life.

“I’ll do it.”
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Black Tiger Eyes