disclaimer, context - reader is a separate character from the endmin, and in a setting where he hasn’t or doesn’t meet the endmin. alternately explores Camille’s dark side, if there is a consequence to his solitude. leaning to obsessive themes rather than fluff. reader is written as female.
trigger warning - stalking, kidnapping.
You didn’t know when exactly it started.
Was it when you were collecting those buckflowers near the power plateau for medicine or was it when you sneaked into the landbreaker’s hideout to steal their weapons?
Or was it when you first even stepped foot in the valley? But it couldn’t be that long ago, right?
Heaving a sigh, you shook your head once to silence your overthinking thoughts while you trudged back to your hideout with the new supplies in hand. Living out here in the wild was already tough as it is, so rationally, you shouldn’t be complaining about how nature’s chain of events had been benefitting you.
At least, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself of. Although deep down, you already knew, this wasn’t some form of natural cause.
How could it be—when every time you walked through a landbreaker camp, they almost always drop dead before even noticing your presence?
How could it be—when every hostile animal that came too close ends up a carcass with the pool of their blood seeping out from their chest?
And how could it be—when every dead corpse on your feet had those same flutter of red blood-like bats scurrying away after leaving them behind?
“…Again…?” You sighed heavily, that anxiousness growing from the pit of your stomach. Crouching down, you inspected the wolf carcass before you, before dragging your knife to slowly cut open the meat for collection. Stuffing the small pieces in your leather bag, you winced as the foul stench of rotting meat filled your senses. “At least some parts haven’t decayed yet.”
It has been almost a month since you’ve had fresh meat for consumption, ever since animals always came out dead whenever you went out to hunt. The ones alive weren’t much help either, bolting away as soon as you tried closing the distance as if their instincts screamed for flight.
This wasn’t always this way, though. The chain of events even almost deluded you into thinking you’d evolved into a scary beast or something, but whenever you checked your mirror?
You looked just fine, your body built like normal. Still that same sweet face, though expression morphing slowly from confusion to anxiously terrified as time went on.
Cute.
Those bloodshot red pairs of eyes stared from afar, taking note of how her lips formed a deep frown from her restless thinking. Probably overthinking every gift he’d left for her. He couldn’t help it, she was someone needing of protection. Or so he decided on his own.
Ever since that day he rested on top of a building after a tiring mission and accidentally noticed that defenceless girl struggling against a mere wolf?
He couldn’t stop himself. He was the Sarkaz Keeper of Seš'qa, and grew up with talent for the blood arts. The little strength this girl had with the makeshift weapon in her hand paled in comparison to his own arsenal of power. He usually never steps out to fight if Seš'qa doesn’t call for it, but he also couldn’t just watch this girl get eaten alive by the wolf already tackling her down on the ground.
He told himself, “Just this once.” as he sent a blood bat to penetrate the wolf’s skin, assimilating with its blood and killing it from the inside.
And that was it, he saved the girl from getting her head torn off and flew away from the scene. Back to their own separate lives, without even needing to introduce himself. He had always preferred to work alone, after all.
But fate had its own cruel joke—he kept crossing paths with this strange girl, always scavenging for whatever food in the wild she needed, with that useless blade in her grip. A blade is just decoration without proper training.
So again, and again, he told himself, “Just this once.”
“One more time.”
“Again.”
Until he himself didn’t realise when he started following this girl around—having to keep her out of trouble as he started to see all these potential dangers around her. Even a harmless longear wasn’t spared if it even tried to jump near her hideout.
He convinced himself of things.
These longears are going to steal her food, and she’ll starve.
These wolves are going to kill her at night when she sleeps.
And trust that he wouldn’t even let a single landbreaker come close to ever touching a strand of your hair.
The killings were necessary.
For the time left he had before returning to Seš'qa, he could spare some to do this girl a favour. That was weeks ago, but he could afford to delay a few more days.
What’s a few days difference, right?
Now, here you were, eyes wide in alarm while scanning your surroundings as you dragged your legs to return home. The leather bag with the cut mear slung to your hip as you treaded carefully across the forest, now eerily silent, devoid of living creatures willing to linger.
Every step you took, somehow, you felt the burning sensation of being watched. It raised the goosebumps on your skin and a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you swallowed your worries, letting out a small exhale as you blamed paranoia.
“…Calm down, (Y/n)…” You whispered to yourself, hoping to convince your inner thoughts. A free hand pressed to your chest. “You’re fine. Everything’s fine. It must just be the UWST members hunting and getting rid of threat…”
Even though your instincts screamed that something wasn’t right, you refused to acknowledge whatever being was haunting you. If only you could find someone out here that could help you—surely you’ll be able to find a plausible explanation for all the events happening around you.
And right before turning the usual path towards your humble hut, you swore you heard the rustle of leaves nearby. Gasping, you whipped your head behind, only to see nothing except the looming trees along the path. Your eyes squinted as your heart beat fast, turning on your heel to bolt back home—only to bump on a chest, as you fell back on the ground.
“Ugh!” Pulling your scraped hands away from the ground, you lift your gaze up to see curious eyes staring down at you. It was what you were searching for, a UWST member!
“Miss? I’m sorry, are you okay?” He bent down and offered a hand, an apologetic frown on his lips. He raised a brow in curiosity. It wasn’t everyday that he sees people out here in the wilds that weren’t part of Endfield or UWST. “I’m Marko, from UWST. What are you doing out here?”
Your eyes lit up with relief. ‘Finally! Someone that can help!’
Blood splattered over your cheeks, as you were met with the face of a man meeting death far too early. His eyes rolled back, skin turning blue as a lance made of solid blood pierced through his neck and bone by one swoop. He fell to his knees, gravity pulling him forwards to slump towards you.
Screaming, you crawled back as fast as you can, legs kicking forward. Your hopes were crushed instantly, replaced with pure terror as you stare wide-eyed at the towering shadow behind the corpse. You were stunned in fear and your body betrayed you with that pathetic trembling, voice barely able to leave your throat as you were finally laid bare in his presence.
A blood red wing spread out on one side of his slim frame, and those stern eyes a dangerous glint of crimson. He didn’t say anything at first, accessing your reaction. It was the first time he actually showed himself to you after all. A part of him knew it’d overwhelm you.
“There’s no need to be afraid.” He said, as the wing retracted back to his back, disappearing as fast as it appeared. The tang of iron filled your senses—plus the rapid beating of your heart out of sheer terror didn’t help lessen the panic filling your bones. “I dislike killing innocents, but he was getting a bit too close to you.”
‘I need to run!’ Your adrenaline spiked, sending flight signals to your body, but for some reason—your body was frozen in fear. It was the way you couldn’t break eye contact with him, because something gnawed at you knew that if you moved now, you’d anger him.
‘(Y/n), please—move!’ You scolded yourself internally, chest heaving from fast shallow breathing, fingers digging into your thighs to try and break my frozen state.
That did it, the jolt of pain snapped your senses awake. You inhaled sharply before standing on your feet in an instant—turning to bolt away from danger, caring not for the pouch you left behind.
“It’s dangerous that way.” You heard him call out calmly from behind, before you saw a swerve of red pass right by your side, and he stood in front of you. You gasped as you staggered back—to which, he reached fast to grasp both of your wrists with an iron-clad grip. He stared you down, taking in that flushed face from exertion and fear. His eyes soften a mere fraction when he saw the pure terror in your gaze, but he had to do what he had to do. His grip tightened, before he leaned in and projected his words, explaining his twisted point of view. “That man could be trying to take advantage of you. I merely disposed of the risk.”
Your heart sank at his words—it might as well be a confession of his sins at this point. A telling of everything that had been happening to you leading up to this moment. Your voice hoarse and raw, as you questioned him, now started to connect pieces of the puzzle.
“Dispose…of risk…?” My gaze flickered to the blood staining his clothes, fresh from that innocent man slain in cold blood. “H-He….He was a UWST member, and he was trying to help me! How is that a threat?!”
Camille’s eyes darken at that. Squeezing your wrists a bit more tightly in warning as he mumbled sternly, “You don’t know that.”
You ignored the pain shooting up your arm, wincing before smacking your forehead against his hard enough that he was staggered back slightly. The fierce glare of a fighter burning in your eyes. “You don’t know that he was a danger either!”
“I was protecting you! He wanted to touch you, a visible threat.” Camille frustratedly barked back, getting worked up now that his vision didn’t come to plan. He had thought you’d be thankful for all the help he gave willingly all this time. Wasn’t that what weak creatures always needed?
Your fear and sadness morphed into anger—now directed to him, the reason of all those dead bodies constantly appearing before you. You had always been a free spirit. A fighter, who chooses to persist even when the hunt was difficult, even when there was danger involved in your landbreaker heists.
He’s taking that freedom away from you.
“Let…go of me!” You thrashed in his grasp, leg shooting out to kick his ankle and break the constraint he had on your wrist. To no avail, he only held you tighter, keeping one hand to bind your wrists while the other wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him. That bloodshot glare tore through your resolve the longer he held you in place—a show of dominance that he was indeed, stronger than you.
Alas in nature, the weak are forever prey to the strong.
“You’re shortsighted. Someone frail like you needs protection to live.” He started, squeezing your waist painfully, just to prove his point. “Even now, you’re helpless against me.”
You grit your teeth, biting back your tongue from replying with a snarky remark. The ache you felt in your wrists were evident, as he tightened his hold on you, almost cutting off the blood flow from your fingertips. He noticed the uncomfortable pain you felt when you were unable to even focus your vision at him properly, hazed by your own tears and anger.
He loosened his hold just slightly for you to breathe easier but still tight enough to keep you bound to him. He himself wasn’t aware of the little soft spot he had developed for you—unable to bear seeing you in pain.
Sighing, he leaned his forehead against yours— gaze softening and those red hues returned to his neutral greyish blue eyes. “…Will you listen to me…?” His voice was softer and hesitant, almost pleading. Seeking to gain your approval. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Your lips form a confused and frustrated frown upon seeing how his personality shifted so quickly—and your rage wasn’t quelled yet just because he suddenly softened his voice. Shaking your head, you tried prying your hands away from his grasp to no avail. Instead, it only served to snap him back into alarm, crushing your wrists into that bone-crushing grip again—his eyes glowing that bloodshot red as he scowled, his emotions clouding his rationale.
“Don’t be stubborn, no one but me can protect you!”
“Ugh—I don’t need it!”
The more you squirmed, the tighter he held to the point that you had to bite down on your own lower lip hard to try and not scream, tears stung your eyelids as pain shot through your body.
“You’re making it harder for the both of us.” He murmured darkly, completely going haywire in his paranoia and obsessive insistence. The hand he had around your waist snaked higher, before he leaned in—pressing his nose to your neck, breathing in your scent. The fear, the anger, he took all of them in.
“I’ve observed you. Clumsy. All over the place. Pathetically scavenging scraps for food.”
His lips part to lightly graze his teeth on the sweet plush skin, fangs gliding over tantalisingly. It was cool to the touch—yet all you could feel was that sickening twist in your stomach.
“Don’t worry, (Y/n). I’m here now.” He whispered, sweet if not for how you don’t even know his name.
You know nothing of this stranger.
But for him, ensuring you lived another day was enough. And he’ll stop at nothing to ensure it.
andulkaphoto
origamiaround
amandla
izzy806
prguitarman
germansingergirl
romaincrisis