If there’s one very important throughline of Lore in this Chapter is blurring the seemingly clear-cut binary line separating Lightners and Darkners.
Well, on some level that started already in Chapter 4, with the Hammer of Justice introducing the idea of Lightners being reborn in Dark Works as Darkners under very specific circumstances.
But the Flowers really put that point front and center. They are living things that receive some sort of Wish-Fulfillment in the Dark World, much like how our Lightner characters receive cool outfits and powers… but the main Wish being fulfilled for them is having a higher form of consciousness and a more anthropomorphic form, like how Darkners come to life in the Dark World. Flowery’s portrait is Black-and-White, much like the Lightner characters, because he is a kind of Lightner as far as the metaphysical mechanics of Light and Dark function… except he also has colorful Darkner-like Golden eyes.
And so much of the conflict of this Chapter is based on their unique liminality. They’re Lightner enough that being reduced back to their Light World ‘inanimate’ form feels much more like a death to them then it feels to a regular Darkner (who can find contentment as inanimate objects, as they are ‘alive’ from the Dreams the Lightners associate with them)… but also Lightner enough that they can’t actually survive for long in the Dark World, their physical bodies still have their regular physical needs, but unlike Susie, they also can’t exactly pull out of the Dark World, grab a snack for nourishment and then pull back in.
And then the Secret Boss is another kind of Liminal being, a more traditional Darkner (in the sense of a truly inanimate object come to life) that’s also being brought to life due to being possessed by a Lightner ghost. Another sort of unique being who is not quite as Ontologically Doomed as the Flowers, but struggles with figuring out what her identity is in her own way. She feels more at home with other Liminal Beings like the Flowers, despite being technically a different kind of being.
All of this feels like build up to exploring the nature of Ralsei, the so-called ‘impossibility’, who already has some of their own ‘Liminal’ elements - they look much more ‘like a Monster’ than any other non-Gerson Darkner, they can appear and survive in every Dark World, and from a meta-narrative perspective, their role as a Darkner Playable Party Member seems to clash with the game’s meta-commentary making Darkners to be like a whole species defined as Video Game NPCs on some level.
They don’t quite seem to match any of the ‘Rules’ of the Liminal Beings we know of so far. Resurrected Lightners like Gerson are specifically mentioned to only appear in very specific Dark Worlds, so this is like the opposite of Ralsei’s situation, and even with their white fur, their portrait seems considerably less monochromatic to me than Flowery’s. But I think this is still a thematic build-up being done to explore different kinds of liminality between Light and Dark and how they affect the relevant characters, before we get into the particular kind of liminality that Ralsei represents.
It’s also likely to be relevant to the Roaring Knight. We still don’t quite know what’s up with them, but it is a pretty decent guess considering their behavior, that they are also their own kind of Liminal Being - they are Lightner enough to open Dark Fountains and operate in the Light World sometimes, but clearly prefer to only ‘show their face’ in the Dark Worlds. So this could also be thematic build-up to establishing what the hell is up with the Knight as well...
summary: Was it possible to miss something he never had? Was it okay to yearn for something he never lost? Could he ever recover from the possibility of “What if?”
word count: 735
a/n: This situation truly breaks my heart. I, amongst many others of the LADS community, were incredibly excited to fall in love with Valko. This is my tribute to him and the LADS developers that put their heart and soul into this character that got me truly excited for LADS again since the beginning of 2026. #BringValkoBack (cross posted from my ao3)
He got the call on a Tuesday evening. He didn’t know why it had to be him, but he got the call regardless. He didn’t know the logistics, he didn’t know how it was going to play out, he didn’t know what was going to happen to you…
…but he got the call.
The first time he saw you parading around in that mask pissed him off to no end. How dare you wear their skin as if it were a costume you could shed as easily as water. How dare you mock their clan to provoke a rise out of him.
It worked. He was sarcastic and level headed and witty but that damn mask tore down his composure before he could blink. Something about you brought out the worst in him.
The first time he saw you without the mask softened all his edges. How could you file down his sharp points into something smooth? How could you possibly make metal into something soft?
It worked. He was protective and dangerous and deadly but that damn smile melted his claws into something that resembled a heartbeat. Something about you brought out the best in him.
And he just had to take that damn call.
You were just ahead of him, walking through the woods a little ways away. He told you the call would’ve been quick, just had to take care of business. You nodded, ponytail swaying behind you as you jumped over a root and navigated the woods with the utmost concentration.
His heart hurt.
You still didn’t know. How was he going to tell you? He didn’t even know where you two stood. You had known each other for less than a week and yet an entire lifetime passed in front of his eyes. You stepped on a twig and he saw moving boxes scattering an empty apartment. Your hands brushed against a tree and he saw those long fingers thumbing through a book in his study. You ducked under some leaves and he saw you lunging towards him, laughing as you wrestled him into the couch.
Was it possible to miss something he never had? Was it okay to yearn for something he never lost? Could he ever recover from the possibility of “What if?”
You turned around, beautiful eyes meeting his own and he wanted to break. You could see it, he knew. There was no better connection than enemies turned allies turned…
…whatever you were.
You stepped back towards him and grabbed his hand. Warmth spread through his entire body at your touch. You were close enough for your scent to fill his senses, like a toxin spreading through his nervous system.
You looked back up at him, and he saw the flicker of something.
“What was it?” You asked him, already knowing the guillotine was released.
He drank you in. The curve of your lip between your teeth, a bad habit he had wanted to try. The color of your hair in sunlight, his favorite color. The warmth of your body, of your heart, of your soul.
“...I’ve been…reassigned.” His voice was monotone.
Your eyebrows furrowed, realizing the severity of his sentence. “For how long?”
“I don’t…I don’t know. Could be a few months, could be years…” he trailed off. Could be forever.
Your hand tightened around his and he saw your jaw clench. He couldn’t help himself and stroked his hand along your cheek, prying your teeth apart.
“It’ll be alright, you’re strong.” he tried to give you a smile.
“What if I don’t want to be?” his smile cracked as he watched a lone tear fall down your face.
Impulse took over and he pulled you into his arms. You latched on, arms wrapping around his waist and up his back, afraid to let go as silent tears soaked his jacket. He squeezed you tighter, afraid to let go as your scent invaded his heart.
“...You’ll have to be.” he choked out the words, trying his damndest not to sob into your arms. He had just met his future, just been introduced to the beginning of paradise, and now he had to walk away.
They stayed like that for what felt like hours. They stayed like that for what seemed like seconds. They stayed in each others’ embrace, delaying the inevitable.
They held on, to the very end, mourning what could have been.
summary: It kind of hits you all of a sudden, how much you had been taking on. 19 credit hours, a part time job, a more active social life.
You wonder for a moment how other people hold up with this.
word count: 2.7k
a/n: MC is a college student/hunter trainee going through it and she just needs the world to stop hating her (she is me, I am she, holy shit this semester has been terrible). Enter Caleb
The grocery store was out of milk and bread (how????) so you haven’t had breakfast this month. Your manager denied your time off request and decided to schedule you for night shifts the past three days as retaliation. You’ve got three exams and two essays this week and haven’t slept well in weeks (how many? Who knows). Your shoelaces got stuck together thanks to the rain earlier this week knotting them together. Your best friend and you got into a fight yesterday about something stupid and you hadn’t talked about it since. Your car battery gave out on you so you’ve been taking the bus (which has slowly been burning a hole in your wallet and your sleep schedule) until you can get it fixed (which probably won’t be until next year). Said bus was late this morning so you missed half of your 8 am. You forgot to plug in your laptop so you had to take frantic paper notes and shove them in your overfilled back pack, whose strap promptly broke when you slung it over your back.
The world hates you and you hate it right back. So fuck the world, fuck watching what you consume and avoiding eating out, you want coffee. You want coffee because you could barely stand up straight and you have had the worst month in the history of ever and god dammit couldn’t you just get an overpriced iced peppermint mocha if you wanted it? It was the holidays for crying out loud
You walked into your favorite hole in the wall coffee shop to find it overrun with college students and had to wait 20 minutes in line before you could finally order that large cup of oversweetened holiday bliss.
Another 20 minutes later, you were knee deep in homework when the barista walked to the counter with a cup in hand and called your name, like a shining beacon of light. You got up, grabbed it, checked to make sure it was your name, and took a sip.
The hot, bitter, black coffee scorched your throat.
Normally you would have tried to fix this. You would’ve spoken out and said I’m sorry, I ordered an iced peppermint mocha. Could you remake this please? Most likely, the barista would’ve happily agreed and made it for you without issue.
Normally you would have. But you’re tired.
So you packed up your stuff and walked out of the coffee shop; broken backpack, sticky shoelaces, and the hot bitter taste sticking to your tongue and all.
It kind of hits you all of a sudden, how much you had been taking on. 19 credit hours, a part time job, a more active social life.
You wonder for a moment how other people hold up with this.
And suddenly, you’re hit with the overwhelming urge to cry, to ugly sob and hyperventilate until you can’t breathe, to vomit up the remnants of crackers you had for dinner yesterday and the stupid fucking black coffee still in your esophagus, to scream at the top of your lungs until you start coughing up phlegm and your throat gives out.
You don’t though. You gather those feelings back into a lump and swallow it down. You look at the sunny sky for a moment, wishing it would be less cheerful (because why the fuck should it be so sunny when you’re mentally losing it?) before heading to your next class.
Time passes weirdly for the next few hours. You simultaneously feel like you’re moving in slow motion and fast-fowarding through classes. One minute your professor is lecturing one slide for 15 minutes straight, the next minute you're staring into the deep fryer and watching each individual bubble pop. You look up at the clock and realize you’re halfway through your shift now and you want to crawl into a ball and melt.
Finally, the clock hits 2 AM and you clock out before trudging over to the bus stop. You plug in your earbuds as you wait, the soft melodies of The Paper Kites ring in your ears as you take a seat and feel your shoulders slump. The stress doesn’t go away, it just absorbs into your body, making you feel even worse.
Your phone buzzes and your music is interrupted by an incoming call. You don’t bother looking at the name before hanging up. Talking requires more energy than you have at the moment.
Your phone buzzes again. Then again. Irritated, you finally look at the caller ID. A picture of Caleb and you in a photo booth shines back at you, his name right above his head. You sigh and hesitate a moment more before answering.
“Hi Caleb,” you breathe out.
“So her phone does work. I was about to buy you another one if you hadn’t answered,” his voice crackles through the speaker, clearly amused.
“Sorry, I thought you were a spam caller.”
“And now I’ve been reduced to ‘spam caller’. I suppose I should just hang up the phone now and call again.”
You give a small giggle as the bus appears, rolling to a stop as you get up and grab your bag.
“Well, I’m here now. What did you need?” You wince slightly as you board the bus, right shoulder twinging from the weight of your backpack.
“Can’t I call my favorite person in the world without an ulterior motive? I’m allowed to do that still, right?”
You sigh again. “Yes Caleb, you’re allowed to call me. You just normally don’t call me these days unless you need something or need to tell me something. Is something up with Grandma?”
Silence fills the call for a moment.
“...No, she’s fine. I’m calling to talk about you tho-”
“And Aerospace Academy? Did something happen in class?”
“No Pips, everything is find-”
“Is it good news then? Did you get a girlfriend or something?”
“What?! No, why would you think I-”
“Is Gideon alright? Did something happen during basketball? I told you to be careful with that you know, so if you get hurt it’s all on you-”
“Pipsqueak!”
Your teeth click shut at his outburst.
“I’m fine, everything is fine. I promise.”
You exhale slightly.
“Okay, sorry. Just covering the bases I guess.”
“...”
Silence fills the call again. Your shoulder is starting to bother you so start massaging it with one hand as you wait for Caleb to talk again.
Your pseudo-adopted-brother and you used to be thick as thieves and tell each other everything. You remember the days when you two were young enough to allow your imagination to run wild and you’d play every day. You remember the nights you would giggle to each other under pillow forts and blankets would tangle between your legs. You remember growing up side by side and playing video games after school, brushing knees and shoulders. You remember when he used to be just an inch or two taller than you and he seemingly grew five inches overnight. You remember crying when he went to Aerospace Academy the first time. You remember him comforting you after your first break up and him cheering and screaming when you got accepted into the Hunter’s Program. You remember him crying when you walked across the stage and got your diploma. You remember those nights when you crawled into his bed whenever he visited and the lines in your relationship blurred with the darkness.
Once you went off to different universities, however, you slowly drifted apart. Your nightly calls became every other day, then weekly, then biweekly until they finally tapered off into “whenever you could.” Neither of you were at fault for this, life just happened to get in the way and Josephine happened to raise two overachieving, ambitious nerds that excelled in everything they could. Sometimes, however, you wish you could go back to how it was the beginning of this semester, when your relationship was at its liveliest and most stable.
The bus reaches your stop and you get off, slowly walking to your apartment. Your shoulder aches some more as you hear Caleb finally speak.
“...Are you alright, pips?”
Your spine stiffens with the question. Do you brush it off like you always do? Could you answer him honestly? Would he have time for that? Would he even want to hear about your troubles anymore now that you were an adult?
“I can hear your mind racing from here Captain Anxiety. Talk to me,” his voice was laced with concern.
“I…” you hesitate. “I don’t…”
He doesn’t say a word, letting you formulate your thoughts. Maybe it’s the fact you’re so close to home. Maybe it’s because this is the straw that broke the camel’s back. Maybe it’s the reminder that this is Caleb. Your Caleb. And he’ll always be there for you. Whatever it is, your voice is shaky as you confess.
“I’m…not great…actually. I’m really stressed and I…I uh…don’t know how to deal with it,” your voice turns watery. “I’ve had a really shitty month and I…I just…I wish you were here…”
You fiddle with your keys as you reach your apartment. “I don’t know if I can…if I can keep holding this…this mess inside me…and I…”
You finally open your door and flick on the lights.
And there he is. Sitting on the couch with a fluffy blanket folded next to him, a bag with your favorite Chinese takeout sitting on the coffee table, he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants, a long sleeve shirt and black socks. He’s holding his phone up to his ear and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.
“...Do you wanna talk about it?” his voice echoes in your earbuds and real life.
He’s here. He came for you.
You burst into tears on the spot, backpack and knees hitting the floor. Caleb rushes over and gathers you into his arms, quietly cooing at you and rubbing your arms. All the stress and pain and exhaustion from the past month and a half washes over you and releases as you sob, fisting your hands into his shirt as he tugs you closer and squeezes you.
“It’s alright Pips, I’m here. I’m so sorry I couldn’t come earlier. I promise, I’ll make it up to you. It’ll be okay,” he whispers softly into your ear, which just makes you cry harder.
You cry and you cry and you cry until your eyes are wrung dry out of all the tears they possess. A few minutes pass before you finally stop hiccuping into his collarbone and have enough energy to look up at him.
He takes a look at your face before brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. “There’s those pretty eyes.”
You rest your head on his shoulder as he scoops you up and carries you to the couch, setting you down next to him before taking off your shoes and covering you with the blanket. He leans forward and fiddles with the bag for a bit before leaning back and turning to you.
“Open up,” he holds a fork of chow mein up to your mouth, coaxing you to eat. You do so, very slowly, still emotionally drained and about to fall asleep. You get about halfway through the container before he’s satisfied and puts the food back on the table. Then, he leans back and wraps an arm around your shoulders and under your knees before carrying you to your bedroom. He sits you up on your bed before kneeling in front of you.
“You can shower in the morning, but you have to get out of these clothes. Do you want help, or can you do it yourself?” his amethyst eyes meet yours and never look away.
“I…I want help,” your voice is raspy and quiet.
He gives you a small smile. “Alright. I’ll be right back.” He rummages through your dresser as you take out your ear buds. He returns with two different top and bottom choices, one long sleeved and one short. You pick which one you want and he sets it to the side before slowly helping you out of your clothes and into your pjs. He then helps you into bed and tucks you in. Before he can turn to leave, you slip your arm out of the covers and grab his hand.
“Wait could…can you…” the words stumble out of your mouth. Caleb gets the gist though, and smiles back at you.
“Of course pipsqueak.” He climbs into bed with you and pulls you into his arms. Your head rests on his bicep, his arm curling around your upper body while his other arm wraps around your waist. You thread your arms around him, legs tangling under the sheets. Sleep pulls at your eyes and you drift off.
“Goodnight Caleb.”
“Goodnight Pips.”
You’re slow to wake the next morning. The sun shines through your curtains and leaves you bleary eyed. You roll over to find Caleb gone and his side of the bed cold and empty. You wonder for a moment if you hallucinated him before the door creaks open and he walks in, nose buried in his phone while a glass of water sat in his other hand. He glances up and meets your eyes, stopping him in his tracks.
“Hey, sorry if I woke you. Was just gonna leave this on your nightstand.” He puts his phone in his pocket and walks to your side of the bed, sitting on the edge before setting the cup down.
You rub your eyes. “What time is it?”
“About 9:30. I just sent an email to your professors letting them know you’ll be out the rest of the week. Doctor’s orders of course, so you can make up those exams and essays later.” He gives you a wink.
“You’re also off for work for the rest of the week. There’s been a…management change and she’s much more agreeable.” You don’t want to know what Caleb did, and you frankly don’t care. Good riddance to that asshole.
“I could kiss you right now.”
His eye twitches with his smile. “Just looking out for you. I’ve got breakfast cooking now. Come out in a bit, alright?”
He leaves, giving you a chance to comb your fingers through your hair and put on your slippers.
You trot out to meet him and notice the food was put away and your couch was tidied. Your backpack was no longer on the floor; a brand new one hung on a hook next to the front door. Your sneakers lay on the floor underneath them with what looked like brand new laces. You found Caleb in the kitchen, flipping something in a pan. Grocery bags litter the island, with a loaf of bread, milk, and eggs sitting next to them
He turns and smiles at you. “I’m making french toast. Take a seat and I’ll make you a plate.”
You turn to the dining table to find your laptop plugged in and open to a word document. Your notes from yesterday sit next to it and you can see half of them copied onto the document, cursor blinking on the screen.
You stand there, staring at all the things Caleb made right, all the little things grating on your nerves. You look at the back of Caleb’s head as he stacks french toast onto a plate with berries and syrup before walking up behind him. As he dusts the food with powdered sugar, you tap him. He turns his head and you kiss his cheek. His widened eyes and flushed face stare at you.
“Thank you,” you smile at him, tears pooling in your eyes again.
He softens before smiling back. “Of course. Now, as we eat, I want you to tell me everything about the past month; the ups and downs. I want to know why Tara and you fought. I want to know how your classes have been going. I want to know what cross stitching projects you’ve made so far. Then, we’ll go to the autoshop and have a look at that pesky car battery and you can tell me more. Then after that, we’ll do whatever you want. I’m yours for the rest of the week.”
You take a seat across from him, take the fork he hands you along with your plate…
summary: You were fucked. The ropes burned your wrists, the lights hurt your head, your body felt woozy, and you were so fucked.
MC went on a mission and got kidnapped. What's Sylus gonna do about it? Blow up a building of course.
word count: 7.7k
a/n: hello! figured my first tumbler post should be a fic cross posted to my Ao3. Hope you enjoy
tw: Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, Psychological Torture
It was supposed to be an easy mission. Get inside, get the intel, get the hell out. Jenna made sure you were prepared. The mission resided in the outskirts of Bloomshore and she knew about…well…
It still stung, but you sucked it up like a good little hunter and took the job. Trauma waits for nobody, and this group could make Onychinus look like a hospital charity.
Their crimes were extensive and they had remained elusive for years: Typhon. Named after the beast of mythology, Typhon is just as ruthless and cruel. While Onychinus remained as the top black market for modified protocores and weapons, Typhon actually put them to use. It wasn’t until the Hunter’s Association was able to trace their involvement in a hospital explosion 5 years ago that they realized just how long Typhon’s list of charges were. Since then, they’ve been the primary suspect in targeted explosions, diplomatic assassinations, drug distributions, etc. Rumor has it that Typhon is planning to open up to human trafficking and abductions for experimentation. And they had never been seen. The only reason the HA knew the name was when they got to the crime scene of a mass attack on one of the city’s political neighborhoods. Typhon was carved into all 54 corpses.
So yeah. They can all go die as far as you’re concerned.
You asked Sylus about them once. That was the first time you ever saw his face shrivel in pure disgust.
“I may be a crime lord, sweetie. But even I have morals. Typhon is savage and inhuman and will kill anyone in their path without a second thought. No ulterior motive, no specific reason. They kill because they can.”
Even though Typhon was as tight lipped as a clam, tidbits of rumors leaked from the cracks. Simone caught wind of a higher up meeting taking place in the edges of Bloomshore on an undercover mission. Jenna needed one person to slip into the meeting room and find out the details of their next attack. You were her stealthiest and quickest Hunter besides Xavier, and she needed you.
Sylus almost lost it when you told him. You thought he was about to lock you in his base, restricting your freedom for the first time since you first met. Instead, he gritted his teeth and handed you a weapon he modified, forcing you to swear to have it on you during the mission and come back to him. Your heart fluttered just thinking about it.
It took almost 2 weeks to figure out how you would even get into the base.
“The sewage system extends to about a mile and a half away from the base, far enough away from the cameras to slip in unnoticed and crawl to their base.” Jenna said. “By some miracle, the camera is placed slightly behind a tree which, in the dead of the night, will hide the manhole cover you’ll climb out of and sneak into the base’s entrance, not 5 feet away.”
You wanted to throttle Jenna. You had the utmost respect for your Captain and thought only the best of her, but this half baked super spy trope would not play out like it did in the movies. It was stupid and reckless…
…and ultimately your best shot.
Security around the base was dense and discreet. No way to avoid the cameras covering every inch within 1000 square feet or the undercover security guards patrolling the area. The only way was through the pipes.
Still, as you army crawled your way through the sewage, taking shallow breaths through your face mask to try and avoid the stench, you couldn’t help but wonder whether you should resign. Jenna would understand. She was already giving you almost a month off for going through with this bull crap. Literally.
The pipes opened up into a large cavern, big enough for you to stand. You took a minute to appreciate not being covered in sludge (you didn’t want to think about what else covered your body). The skin tight, waterproof armor Jenna outfitted you in repelled most of the sewage, but your neck and hairline where your armor and mask didn’t cover were definitely going to need some serious scrubbing.
Your hand rested on the concealed dagger Sylus gave you on your thigh for a moment before moving. Boots trudged through the slum towards the manhole. Tara was watching the camera feed Xavier had been able to slip into the suburbs and would notify you through your watch when the guards changed rounds.
“You’ll have 27 seconds to open the manhole, close it, run over to the entrance, plant the signal jammer that’ll deactivate the lock for 5 seconds, and slip inside before being spotted.”
Simple.
The ladder to the manhole is rusted and creaky, but it would hold you. Your hands braced on the cover, waiting for Tara to go ahead.
You waited. And waited. Long enough that your legs were beginning to shake from holding up your weight, your heart racing in anticipation.
And then you heard it. That tiny little beep counting down your timer. And you pushed.
Your biceps burned from the weight but you kept pushing, slipping the cover over the lip and pushing it just enough to slip out. Your boots landed softly on the pavement as you dragged the cover back into its place, fighting to be as quiet as possible. The slight rustling of leaves and your own panicked breaths were the only things you could hear.
You darted over to the hidden door in the street, hands shaking as you lined up the jammer, your watch flashing that you had 14 seconds left. Your heartbeat rang in your ears, blood pressure escalating dangerously. Zayne’s disappointed tone rang in your head as the jammer beeped and you slipped inside.
-*-*-*-*-*-
Resting in the tree, a crow with beady eyes watched the figure slip into the base.
-*-*-*-*-*-
Your footsteps echoed slightly as you descended the stone staircase leading into the base. A dim light grew bigger and bigger as the entrance opened up into a hallway.
“The ventilation system leading to the meeting room is connected to the left side of the ceiling right before the hallway. Slip inside there and you’ll crawl through the pipes to the meeting.”
Sure. Why not? Another spy movie trope you couldn’t wait to debunk. It’s like Jenna went on a movie marathon before planning this mission…
…you made a note to yourself to check her watch history for Mission Impossible.
The vent is wide enough to fit your body, but it would be a tight fit. The pinging of screws hitting stone echoed in your ears as you extracted the vent cover. Pocketing the screws, you scrambled into the vent and closed it up behind you. After lightly securing it so you could get back out, you started crawling.
“The journey there is straightforward. Take the first left, then all the way down and take another right. This will put you right on top of the meeting room.”
The instructions were clear and concise, but the path still took you over 10 minutes in the cramped vent. Voices could be heard as you approached the vent opening. They became clearer and clearer as you silently started recording the conversation on your watch.
“...need a new avenue…HA on our tail…out of commission…must be flawless.”
While you couldn’t hear everything, this intel would be worth its weight in gold. You scooted a little closer to the opening.
“...the boss wants a recon in zone 49. Details to discuss…job near the docks in two days.”
Your heart felt like thunder in your chest as you shakily moved as close as you could to the vent. You could faintly see the outline of people sitting around a wooden table. One of them gestured to a map in the center riddled with pins and markings: The leader most likely. You extended your watch arm to try and get a picture of the map.
“We’ll send a scout to look around.” The man standing up pointed to an area on the map. “The HA has been closing in more than I’d like the boss to know.”
A red circle was drawn around a building in zone 49. You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself. These slippery bastards were finally going to jail.
“Everyone clear? Good. The meeting is adjourned. Hail Typhon.” The rest of the members crooned back, making you nauseous. How these people could find pride in their work, you had no idea. You could only hope that the HA would be able to make use of whatever information you were able to get.
“You’ll be able to get back to the entrance by taking two more rights in the vents. Wait approximately 5 minutes after you see the last person leave before trying to get out. Slip back into the manhole and rendezvous back where you started. Xavier will be waiting for you to get back.”
You followed the directions to the T. The last person to leave was a fairly tall man with dark hair. The leader.
He stopped just before the door before swiveling around. You had to contain your gasp. His eyes were a bright glowing yellow. They scanned the area. For a moment you could swear they met your own.
Then he turned around and stepped through the door.
It wasn’t until you heard his footsteps leaving that you let out your breath. Five minutes passed in the blink of an eye. You slowly took down the vent cover before dropping to the floor. Your boots clicked softly as you stood back up and replaced the vent. A quick thermal scan from your watch told you that nobody was behind the door. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and ran out. The glow of the moon was your only light as you darted back to the manhole and slipped inside.
-*-*-*-*-*-
The crow narrowed its eyes at the figure. It gave a small hop before flying off into the distance.
-*-*-*-*-*-
Xavier was waiting on the other side of the sewage plant. His Hunter’s uniform glowed like a beacon as you jogged over to him.
“No problems?” He asked.
Shaking your head, you finally let yourself relax. “None. Got the convo on video and some pictures of a map. Looks like their next hit will be in two days near the docks in zone 49.” You handed him your watch.
“Can you get the info to Jenna? I really, and I mean really, need a bath,” you sighed.
He gave a small chuckle. “Of course. Wash up and get some rest. You’ve definitely earned it, partner.”
His smile was small, but it rejuvenated you all the same. “Thank you.”
“Get home safely.” Xavier pocketed your watch before walking away.
You watched him leave into the forest. Just as you lost sight of him in the tree line, an arm wrapped around your waist.
“Got ya, slippery little bitch,” a nasally voice breathed in your ear.
Adrenaline flooded in your veins. Your elbow flew behind you, making contact with a nose. The man cried out and let go, but before you could grab Sylus’s dagger, another one grabbed your wrist. Shit.
You thrashed your arm and slipped out of his grasp. Broken Nose dived and tackled your legs, bringing you down. Your head hit the ground with a thud, a sharp pain exuding where your mask dug into your face. You kicked as hard as you could to get Broken Nose off of you, but the other guy grabbed your lower torso, pinning your dagger sheath to the ground.
A third guy that you hadn’t seen grabbed your mask from behind you and ripped it off.
Before you could open your mouth to scream, a hand covered in cloth slapped onto your face. Chloroform.
Your muscles began to slow and your eyes began to droop. Just before you lost consciousness, your gaze fell on dark leather shoes walking towards you. You looked up, and there he was. The leader with glowing yellow eyes.
You passed out just as you saw a crow with beady eyes fly onto his shoulder.
Ropes dug into your wrists and arms. Your body was strapped into a rickety wooden chair. Your hair hung in front of your face, slightly blocking a harsh white light above you. Your head was pounding. Scrunching your face in pain made the pounding even worse, so you forced yourself to relax and take in your surroundings.
Your boots rested on dark, rotting wood panels. From your peripheral, you could make out concrete walls encasing you in a fairly small room. No windows or doors from your limited view, but you had to have gotten in here somehow.
Your armor had been stripped from your body, leaving you in your thin Hunter’s athletic ware. A quick mental check confirmed you had your underwear though, so that was a plus.
“Wakey wakey, little snoop.”
Your blood ran cold. The voice was low with a harsh edge to it. It was the leader. You really needed a name for this dude.
A hand roughly grabbed your hair and yanked your head up, making your headache flare up. Your eyes met glowing yellow. The crow on his shoulder cawed in your face, reminding you of Mephisto.
Oh my god Mephie.
Your mind started racing.
Sylus, I know you stalk me without my consent and keep tabs on me through your pet mechanical bird and I once yelled at you for it and didn’t talk to you for a week until you promised not to do it again, but it is a great day to break promises. Please tell me you kept tabs on me without my consent again and have sent the HA to my location.
“You were sticking your nose in business it didn’t belong in. So I wanna know what you know? Why are you here?” His nails dug into your scalp painfully, aggravating your headache and sending you into a daze.
“We found a weapon on you with Onychinus’ sticky fingerprints all over it,” Leader Guy spit in your face. “If you’re somehow involved with that joke of a Mafia, we’ll find out soon enough so you might as well fess up.”
They didn’t know who you were. They thought you were with Onychinus.
Your heart started pounding. If you could somehow convince these goons that you were with Onychinus instead of the HA, the mission might not be completely compromised. Just stay quiet and give nothing.
“Boss!” A man dressed in all black ran in, waving a piece of paper like they were winning lottery ticket numbers.
“It’s her.” He hands the paper to the Boss who reads over it quickly, eyes widening slightly in surprise before meeting your eyes again.
He slowly stalked towards you and reached for your neckline. Just on the inside of your shirt rested Sylus’s broach. The one he made you promise to keep on you.
“You’re Sylus’s little snoop. That fucking bastard.” He clenches the paper in his hand and a wry smile spreads across his face. “Okay. I’ll play his game. Let’s see what move he’ll make while his bitch is in Typhon’s hands.”
-*-*-*-*-*-
Every few hours, the Boss, whose name you’ve learned to be Archeon, would waterboard you awake. While you were slightly hyperventilating trying to catch your breath, he would brutally question you on what the HA or Onychinus wanted with Typhon.
He knew of your existence as soon as you left the manhole and planted fake intel in the meeting to throw you off. He hadn’t known you were with the HA though, and was using this opportunity to try and get any information out of you he could. Any time you didn’t answer one of his questions, his water evol would waterboard you again.
Archeon was patient for the first few days, but his patience slowly ran out as your mind deteriorated. He was growing tired of your silence and noncommittal hums.
You want to say the physical torture began a few days ago, but time was a little fuzzy now. You had been stripped out of the thin clothes you wore and were given a small cut on your body every time you didn’t answer, every time your face remained blank, every time you didn’t wake up.
It wasn’t painful at first, but as time passed the cuts grew in number, length, and depth. None of them were properly healed or taken care of and infection had started to set in.
To keep you alive as long as possible, Archeon injected you with drugs and nutrients that would stave off the infection and keep you alive for a few hours before coming back full force.
You were trying to remain strong, but you were starting to lose it. The few hours of sleep you got in between interrogation sessions were wearing you down. The dizziness and headache persisted and only got worse as time went on. You were soaking wet from every wake up call and it was starting to make you sick, making you even more woozy. The infection worsened your symptoms and you were starting to lose hope.
Archeon walked back into the room and made eye contact with you, a stupid smug smile across his face.
“Hey, little bitch. I’ve had enough of your silence, and I think I finally know how to break you.” Another man entered the room, large as a mountain and towering over you menacingly.
“You’ll answer every question I ask truthfully, or I’ll let Little Johnny do whatever he wants to you.” Little Johnny let out a menacing laugh before tracing your exposed breast with a meaty finger. Your skin recoiled as your mushy brain finally caught up to what Archeon was implying.
Oh. You were gonna die here.
Your bra was torn off your body. Archeon was asking questions you couldn’t hear and Johnny was starting to squeeze. All you could think of were your friends and co-workers.
Tara and Simone would be shocked. Your absence was sudden and you wouldn’t be able to go to the club with them or have Girls Night with them ever again.
Jenna would be so disappointed that she sent you in the first place. Your captain was strict, but she had a big heart and the guilt would eat her alive.
Xavier would be distraught. He was the last person to see you. He’s your partner. He was your partner.
Zayne would close up like a clam. He would bury himself in his work to avoid the looming realization that both of his best friends that were younger than him died first.
Rafayel would lock himself in his studio and refuse to leave. What would be the point? He would have to hire a new bodyguard, one that didn’t know him like you did.
Sylus…
…oh god Sylus.
If he cared for you as much as you did him, he would lose it. He would raze the city to the ground. He would destroy everything without a second thought. He would lose himself.
You don’t know how it happened, but as Little Johnny’s hand lowered to your underwear, you found the strength to hold on a little more. You couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t leave him in a whirlwind of What If’s and If Only’s. He had just started opening up about his interests. He promised to take you to a wine tasting and hadn’t made it clear whether or not it was a date. You hadn’t made your intentions clear to him.
Your underwear was ripped off, and as Little Johnny laughed, you silently vowed to get out of here. They could violate you, they could torture you, they could rape you, they could break you down to bits. You would gather the tiny fragments and get out of here and get back to Sylus.
Even with this newfound strength, your heart still shredded into threads as Archeon’s haughty voice kept ringing in your ears and meaty fingers pried your legs open. Silent tears flowed down your face as you started hyperventilating, but you stared him down, jaw clenched and eyes burning.
You had to stay strong. You had to. You had to. You had to you had to you had to you had to…
-*-*-*-*-*-
Water flooded your senses, jolting you awake once more. Johnny walked back in as Archeon asked about the Hunter’s Association’s communication system.
-*-*-*-*-*-
Johnny woke you up with multiple deep cuts into your abdomen, slowly spelling out TYPHON. Archeon questioned you on Onychinus’s security.
-*-*-*-*-*-
Drugs flooded your system. Archeon injected your veins with some liquid, making you even more woozy as he pondered on Jenna’s daily routine.
-*-*-*-*-*-
Archeon woke you up with a firehose of water. Spluttering and coughing, you tried to catch your breath, wondering what the point was.
-*-*-*-*-*-
You were there.
Weeks of psychological and physical torture, weeks of sexual assault and rape. And he had found your limit. He found your breaking point.
“Who’s Caleb?”
Those two little words. Tiny little bullets that tore through the Aether Core in your heart and reminded you of the heartache all over again.
“He wouldn’t happen to live in Bloomshore would he? There have been many explosions recently. I would hate for something bad to have happened to him.”
You slowly lifted your head. You met yellow. Yellow looked through you, just waiting.
You felt the scream. You felt the tears. You felt the hysteria.
And like fractured glass filling with water, you broke.
-*-*-*-*-*-
The water didn’t faze you anymore. The sickness had gotten almost unbearable. Nobody was coming.
You didn’t have the strength to hold up your head. Boots flooded your vision and your head stayed down. A hand threaded in your hair and lifted your head.
You met yellow. And you sighed in exhaustion. You couldn’t hold on anymore.
Johnny came in with another man. Just as large as he was.
They approached slowly. You whimpered in fear. Sylus, I’m sorry.
An explosion rang out far above your head, shaking the walls with the force. Johnny and friend stumbled slightly but Archeon just smiled with maniacal glee.
“Finally. He’s here.”
Scrambling sounds and gunshots rang out somewhere past the doorway. Quick footsteps sounded outside before the door burst open to reveal the head of Onychinus himself, the twins flanking both sides and Mephisto perched on his shoulder. His evol crackled in his hand, red and black tendrils swirling in his shaking fist.
He made eye contact with you. His face dropped as he took in your appearance. Your soaking wet hair, your arms riddled with cuts, the name on your abdomen, your skin tearing open where the ropes coiled your body. Your lack of clothing.
Sylus lost it.
Tendrils fast as lightning swarmed Johnny and friend, raising them in the air slightly before snapping their necks one after the other. They dropped into heaps of flesh and bone on the ground.
“Did he do this to you kitten?” Sylus’s voice was low and quivering with fury. His eyes never left yours, bloodshot and sunken. His frame was smaller, like he lost a lot of weight. His entire body was vibrating with rage.
You couldn’t register any of this though. He came was the only thing you heard in your broken mind.
He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came He came.
Archeon gave a cruel chuckle. “Was wondering how long you’d let your bitch be tort-”
He was cut off by a tendril of energy slamming his face into the concrete wall.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Sylus stalked over. Looking the battered man in the eye, he spit on his face.
“It disgusts me that you breathed the same air as her for weeks.” He hit the concrete again.
“It angers me that you dared to hurt her, knowing exactly who she was to me.” Archeon was losing blood fast.
He leaned in close, spitting these next words into his face.
“But it makes me seethe with rage that you’ll never suffer enough to pay for what you’ve done.”
With that, Sylus punches him, the bastard's brains painting the wall.
Sylus punches him again. And again. And again. Two weeks and 3 days of panic, rage, desperation, and agonizing, harrowing worry. Two weeks, 3 days, 17 hours and 22 minutes since the tracker on the dagger he gifted you shut off. Two weeks, 3 days, 17 hours and 4 minutes since the tracker in the broach scrambled around the N109 Zone. Two weeks, 3 days, 17 hours and 3 minutes since he sent Mephisto out to find any trace of your biological signature.
Two weeks, 3 days, 17 hours, 2 minutes and 48 seconds since he started looking for you. Since he started tearing the N109 Zone apart for Typhon because that fucking organization was the only one that could have taken you. Since he started ruthlessly killing everyone even remotely involved with Typhon. Since he stopped sleeping and combed through Linkon with a vicious tendril of energy in each hand.
Kieran laid a hand on his shoulder. Archeon died about four punches ago and now Sylus was making a mess. He was making a mess when he should be taking care of you. He should have…
He stumbled over to your chair. “Luke. Jacket.” He had already torn off his blazer he’d been wearing for the last two and a half weeks and thrown it over your battered body. Bile rose in his throat as he caught a glimpse in between your legs. Those bastards…
He cut your restraints as Kieran supported your body, Luke covering your back with his jacket and wrapping the blazers sleeves around your back to keep it up.
Your body hurts. Really badly.
“S-Sy-”
“Shut up.” he hissed. “Save your strength, I’ll take care of it.”
“N-No…Sy…I…” you were losing consciousness again.
“Stay awake sweetie. Hey. Hey! Kitten, get up!” He shook your body awake. “You can’t slip out on me. I don’t know what they did to you. No, keep your eyes open. There we go darling. Let me see those beautiful eyes.” His voice was shaking with desperation. His voice never shook. Sylus was never desperate.
“I can’t…” you slipped again.
The last thing you registered was Sylus’s panicked voice increasing in volume as his arms squeezed you.
Sylus was a fairly level headed man.
He prided himself on his ability to work under pressure. To be put in dangerous situations and act without a second thought. To stare Death in the face with enough edge and enough “fuck you too” attitude that Death eventually ran off.
Sylus was a level headed man.
But that changed when you walked into the picture.
You, with your kindness and spark and suitcase of emotional baggage you didn’t even know you carried. Your courage and stubborn attitude and lifetime of memories you don’t remember. Your bratty side and your selfless side and your sorceress.
You walked straight into his calm and collected persona and shattered it with a gentle fingertip. You wormed your way back into his heart and set up shop. You lived in his “level head” rent free and you had him wrapped around your little pinky. Anything you wanted you would get. Anything he had was yours. He’d tear this sickly heart out of his chest and lay it at your feet, begging for a chance to do more.
He was level headed in all matters except for you.
Which is why he promptly lost his shit when you passed out in his arms.
“Get her out. Now.” His teeth were clenched and his Aether Core blazed, red hot fire burning in his bloodstream.
The twins were silent. They carefully scooped you up and carried you out of the room. Sylus stood next to that fucking rickety wooden chair that housed your body for two and a half weeks. It exploded into woodchips as soon as the door clicked shut.
“I hope Typhon is ready for a management change,” Sylus muttered under his breath, the stench of death growing thicker as his evol flared.
He burst into mist and reformed in the main lobby. The basement that housed you was already crumbling so he would have to make this next bit fast.
Dead bodies littered the floor as he made his way to the elevator. Nobody was left untouched, not while his kitten was trapped within its confines.
While he normally would have teleported to the man responsible instantly, he needed to give the twins a chance to get you out. He would take no risks when it came to your life.
The elevator pinged open and he stalked into the main office, black and red mist coiling around his feet.
The bastard’s door was just ahead. Sylus couldn’t wait to blow it up.
One quick kick to the handle and the door burst open. Inside, a large office space awaited him with dark wooden accents and a large desk in the middle. A large man sat behind the desk, the head of Typhon: Rictus.
Dark brown hair topped his head and covered his chiseled jawline. Tattoos popped out of the black button down shirt he wore, covering the man’s arms and neck. A single golden ring rested on his finger, Typhon engraved on the surface. The man screamed of danger and his electricity manipulation evol made him a ruthless and powerful leader.
Most notable of all, however, were his golden yellow eyes. The price one paid to be a part of this terrorist cult.
“So you’re the one making the mess. I was wondering why there was a massacre on my front lawn.” A low voice drawled out his amusement.
“Cut the bullshit Rictus. You know why I’m here.” Sylus spat venom at the sitting man, ready to jump his bones at the first opportunity. He had to be cautious though. Rictus’s evol was lightning quick. Literally. And one wrong move could seriously maim him.
“Ah. Yes. The girl. You’ll have to forgive my right hand man, Archeon. He’s a rather cutthroat fellow. Enjoys the simple things in life.”
“I used his intestines as streamers and painted the ceiling with his blood.”
“Well that wasn’t very forgiving, was it?”
Sylus was losing patience with this bastard. He wanted Typhon gone now and he would kill to see it done.
He jerked his hand and sent out a tendril of mist to wrap around the asshole’s throat, but was cut off by a shock to his system.
“That wasn’t very forgiving either.” Rictus chuckled, clearly amused with Sylus’s loss of composure. God, if he could’ve kept the girl for a little longer, could he have gotten Onychinus’s resident Devil to bow down to him? A tempting prospect.
Sylus lunged at the man and tackled him to the ground, Rictus meeting him blow for blow. Sylus never backed down though and soon he pinned the man’s arms down and reared back.
“You fucking bastard. I’ll kill you right here and now.” Sylus’s hand clenched and crackled with energy.
“But you won’t.” Rictus laid his hands on Sylus chest and shot. Electricity raced up his spine and seized his muscles, allowing Rictus to kick him off and pin his arms.
“Because I’ll kill you first.” Rictus then slammed Sylus’s into the ground and fired him while his head spun.
The electricity slowly increased in intensity. Sylus could feel his nerves frying, the pain becoming almost unbearable. He grit his teeth and sent an energy spike into the middle of Rictus’s forehead, blowing him back into his wooden desk which splintered on contact. Sylus dove towards him and landed another blow across his face.
Rictus spun around and socked Sylus in the abdomen, knocking the wind out of him before firing another bolt of electricity through his body.
Sylus could feel his body cooking from the inside out. He had to finish this fight and he had to finish it fast. He stumbled to his feet before Rictus lunged at him. Diving out of the way, Sylus sent a whip of energy around his ankle and yanked with all his might, sending Rictus careening into the opposite wall. Concrete and rubble exploded in a cloud of dust as Sylus stomped towards the man, lifting him by his shirt collar and slamming him into the wall.
“What the fuck did you do to her? What did you want from her?! Tell me!” Sylus screamed in his face covered in bruises. Blood streamed down his hair line as Rictus let out a cough.
“You didn’t…You don’t even know?” Rictus chuckled again. “She’s wanted by Ever.”
Sylus’s blood ran cold.
“They…hah…They experimented on her…years ago. Guess they…hah…wanted their…property back…” This was too funny. Even if Rictus died, which he suspected he would, Sylus would still have to deal with the fallout.
“Why else…do you think we…haha…kept her for so long? To…To fuck with you?! Don’t make…me…hah…laugh.” Rictus was slowly passing out. He would be damned if he didn’t take the Onychinus leader with him though.
“They were going to give us…a million dollars for her. Figured she had…exhausted her uses here…so we were going to ship her…over tomorrow.” With one final burst, Rictus fired the largest bolt of electricity he could muster, but it didn’t even faze Sylus. Puzzled, Rictus met his eyes only to find a brilliant glowing scarlet.
With slit pupils.
At that moment, Sylus felt something inside him shatter. Something he had kept hidden for years. Something he had learned painful control over and made sure to hide from everyone, ensuring no more weakness could be seen.
You were an Ever experiment. He knew this. It was one of the first things he dug up the night he landed on this godforsaken planet. He was the one that broke you out of your chamber for Christ’s sake.
He didn’t know Typhon was affiliated with Ever. He never suspected…even when he should have.
And this bastard was gonna send you back. Back to that hellhole.
Sylus felt the claws grow out of his hand, the horns piercing his head and the wings tearing out of his shoulder blades.
“You…You…You.” Rictus’s face drained of color. The rumors of Sylus’s demonic status were just that; rumors. But as a tail ripped out of his spine and he grew at least three feet in height, Rictus felt like praying.
“You…You are going to die tonight.” Sylus’s wry smile revealed sharp glittering fangs.
Rictus swore he never stopped watching him. One minute the Demon (no, the dragon) growling at him, spitting in his face and towering over him. And then he blinked.
And then the Demon’s jaw unhinged and snapped straight through the man’s neck.
-*-*-*-*-*-
The roars of a Dragon spurned could be heard miles away from the Typhon base. All that could be found in the pile of ash was a single golden ring.
-*-*-*-*-*-
The subtle beep of a monitor was the sound that woke you up.
The sterile ceiling and open blinds revealed a large hospital room. Your body lay almost immobilized in a hospital bed. A familiar hospital bed.
You turned to your right to see a familiar figure in a labcoat sitting ramrod straight in an arm chair. His eyes never left yours. There was something almost sad in the green of his iris.
“How are you feeling?”
You cleared your throat, voice raspy and low. “Sore…still hurts…”
Zayne handed you a cup of water from your bedside table. You took small sips as he talked.
“Not surprising, given the state you were in. You needed over 20 stitches in your abdomen, as well as over a week’s supply of antibiotics. You were delirious, hypoglycemic, malnourished, had dozens of wound infections, intoxicated almost to the point of overdose…” He stared at you for a moment.
“We…We had to use a defibrillator.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, brain taking a little too long to catch up to the words coming out of his mouth.
“Your heart stopped. Twice. Once when you got here and another in the OR. I…” he looked stricken.
“I don’t…know how I would’ve…if you had...” To your utter shock, Zayne had started to tear up.
He closed his eyes and took a moment, swallowing hard and forcing the tears back. His apathetic expression was slowly being pieced back together. Finally, he looked at you again.
“To say you’re on medical leave is an understatement. You’ll be lucky if I sign you back on for desk duty after this. It’s a miracle you’re even alive.” He reached over and grabbed your hand with his left hand, cupping your cheek with his right and wiping away a tear.
Oh. You were crying.
“You’re always so busy taking care of others. Finding out what they need. Right now, I need you to take care of you.” His hand squeezed yours for a moment before he let go and stood up.
“I’ll go over your recovery plan later. I’m referring you to a therapist and you will go to at least three sessions, you have to promise me.” Zayne’s icy glare was enough to convince you to go to five.
You cleared your throat again. “Do you know where…”
The door creaked open, causing you to flinch.
The 6’ 2” mountain of a man you called your savior walked in, a bouquet of red roses in his fist. He met your wide eyes and startled slightly before shooting a glance at your doctor.
“I thought you would inform me when she woke up.” His voice carried an edge to it.
Zayne huffed. “Consider yourself informed.” He glanced at you. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
Without another word, Zayne silently left the room, clicking the door shut behind him.
Sylus walked over to the vacant chair and took a seat, setting the flowers down on your bedside table.
You blurted out, “How long have I been…”
He gave you a look. “How long have you been what? Been missing? Been unconscious? Been giving me an aneurysm?”
You opened your mouth, only to close it again. Nothing he said would make you happy.
Sylus gave a dry chuckle. “Well, you went missing for about two and a half weeks. You’ve been unconscious for another week or so. And I’ve had headaches, nausea, and chronic anxiety for about a month, so let’s call that four weeks.”
A sudden wave of guilt came over you, powerful enough to knock you down. He cared. He really cared. You never truly realized how much he cared. But you never meant for Sylus to undergo so much pain in the process of caring for you.
Bile rose in your throat as you choked out, “I…I’m sor-”
“If you’re about to apologize for what those bastards put you through, I will hunt down your doctor and have him put you under anesthesia.”
You clicked your jaw shut.
The white-haird man gave a sigh. “I want you to listen to this very carefully. What happened was not your fault. No matter what people say, no matter what you think, this was not your fault.”
You had never seen him be so sincere, it almost brought tears to your eyes. “I…”
“You got out, you are safe, you will heal.”
Nevermind, there were tears in your eyes.
“I’m…I’m safe?” It sounded too good to be true.
He reached over and grabbed your hand.
“As long as I am alive, I will protect you. As long as I have a beating heart, it will be your shield. And I promise, this will never happen again.”
Two and a half weeks of torture. Two and a half weeks of rape. Two and a half weeks of pain and suffering and endurance and unflinching fortitude crashed down on you.
You had been kidnapped for two and a half weeks.
The realization of what you had lost, the relief that you were out. It was too much for you to process and you burst into ugly sobs, falling on to the man’s shoulder.
Sylus didn’t waste a second and pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight.
“You got out, you are safe, you will heal.”
Through your blurry vision and hiccups, you internalized his words.
You got out, you are safe, you will heal.
Epilogue:
The sun beat down on your face as you walked outside. You took a second to breathe it in. Birds chirped in the nearby tree, swaying in the wind. The squirrel gave a chirrup as it bounded up the side of the trunk. You could hear the flapping of wings coming from far above you.
The bustling city to your left sounded distant compared to the sounds of nature.
You looked back down at the round. A sleek black car was waiting in the parking lot. Leaning on the passenger side door holding a bouquet of wildflowers was Sylus.
You smiled, then walked over to him.
He smiled back as he handed you the flowers back. “How was it?”
You took a deep breath before answering. “Not as probing as I thought it would be. She really just took this session to get to know me.”
It took another week of monitoring, but Zayne finally discharged you from the hospital with strict orders of bed rest and medical leave. Jenna was more than happy to sign off on however long you needed, so you’d be taking the next month off to yourself. Zayne had referred you to Annabelle, a fifty-year-old woman who had been divorced twice and dealt with cases of sexual assault and abusive/toxic relationships. You expected her to be fairly reserved but she had greeted you with a firm handshake and fire in her eyes. Something about her screamed that she would make your life a living hell if you crossed her. You instantly took a liking to the short blonde haired woman and made small talk with her for about an hour during your first session last week.
“That’s good. I’m really proud of you for sticking with this.” He opened your car door and you slipped inside.
“Yeah, well Zayne would never have discharged me if I hadn’t sworn on my stuffy collection to go to at least three sessions.” Sylus gave a huff of laughter as he shut your door. He crossed over to the driver’s side and hopped in.
“True. Your dear doctor would have you on desk duty for the rest of your life if he could help it.” Sylus started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
“And with your stuffed animals at stake, you would do anything.” His voice was filled with amusement. You gave his shoulder a light smack in retaliation and he chuckled.
“Seriously though, you feel good about this?”
You waited a moment. “Yeah. I think so. I think it’ll do me some good.”
He gave a small smile and reached over the center console, lacing your fingers into his.
“That’s great. Really.” He glanced over at you.
There was definitely a difference in the way you carried yourself. Your fire had dimmed and you were more subdued. You still flinched every time the door opened. Your hands shook when you didn’t eat every few hours. You tensed up every time someone over six feet tall got too close to you. You couldn’t look at wooden chairs. You were paranoid of public places.
But you were healing. You took it day by day. You reminded yourself that the door was in splinters. You set up an app to remind you to drink water and eat every few hours. You went out with friends and reminded yourself you are okay. You grabbed Sylus’s hand anytime your anxiety got too bad.
He was always there with you. After you had been discharged, you had been too nervous to try and stay alone. You worked up the nerve to ask Sylus to stay with you for a few days in your apartment.
He informed you that his stuff was already in your house on the drive home.
That had been almost two weeks ago. It took some adjustment to get used to waking up to the large man in your bed, but it was nice to curl up in his arms when the thoughts got too bad. He had completely flipped his sleep schedule to wake up alongside you. He cooked your favorite meals and never left your side for more than five minutes.
You worried that he would eventually find this too mundane. That he would grow bored of taking care of you and want to return to his lavish lifestyle. That he would remember he had a criminal organization that he was the leader of and it could currently be in a power vacuum with his absence.
He didn’t care. Nothing mattered more to him than you. Onychinus was nothing compared to your safety and wellbeing.
Everyday, he proved that you were his number one priority. It made your heart flutter just thinking about it.
“I have reservations for that restaurant you like in 30 minutes. We can do anything you want after you eat. Just name it.”
You squeezed his hand, thankful for this man that took everything off your plate and shared the load between you.
“I think I’d like to go to the park.”
Sylus said nothing, trying not to show his shock at you willingly volunteering to go in such a public setting. You amazed him every day.
“Of course sweetie. With boba?”
“Do I even have to ask?”
He laughed. You squeezed his hand again and looked out the window.
