Alex was walking through the hall of the building Host had brought her to for safekeeping. The people who were tracking her seemed to have no idea where she was, which was good news, but she felt idle and bored. She'd drawn nearly everything in Host's small apartment, and she was looking for something new. She was looking at her surroundings a bit too much, and accidentally rounded a corner right into a person, face planting their chest. "Sorry!"
Dark took a step back, surprised that someone walked into him. Well, not that that didn’t happen sometimes, but still. The stranger was lucky she had only touched him for a second, otherwise her colours would’ve been drained. He did keep his aura just to himself while walking around the halls after all.
“And who might you be?”, he asked, tilting his head lightly. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was looking slightly down at her. Authority and confidence radiated from his being.
Anti knocked on the door to Dark's office. It had been weeks since his sight had been removed, and he was ready to have it back. "Hey Dark? Can I come talk ta ya?" @did-you-miss-anti
@did-ya-miss-anti
“Come in.”, Dark called, unbothered by Anti’s presence. He wasn’t doing anything important right now for once.
Warnings: Violence, Torture, stabbing, burning, flesh tearing, bone breaking
~900 words of Dark breaking Host, enjoy
He plunged the knife in the other man’s chest, blood splattering onto his suit. The Host cried out in pain, the knife buried to the hilt in his stomach. Talking did nothing, as Dark shared no words with him.
He pulled the knife downwards, cutting open the Host’s stomach, blood running out of the wound and pooling on the ground. Dark pulled the knife out again, to instead dig his fingers into the wound, making the Host cry and whimper in pain. Dark was tearing the wound open further, the skin and flesh ripping open. He could almost peel off the skin of the Host’s stomach, which he almost complemented doing.
Instead he pulled his fingers out again, now coloured a deep crimson. He grabbed the knife again, instead cutting delicate patterns into the Host’s chest, but the wounds were deep enough to make the Host whine from the pain. Dark enjoyed the sight of blood underneath him, tracing the wounds with his fingers, pressing hard against them.
He licked the blood off his fingers, dying his tongue a deeper red than it should be. Holding his knife, he looked the the Host’s hands -wrists chained to the wall, rubbing open the skin. Some blood was already running along his arm.
Adjusting the grip on the knife, Dark plunged the knife through the Host’s hand, making him cry out in pain, his fingers twitching in response. Dark just growled lowly, dragging the knife down and out of the Host’s hand.
The blood dripped off the knife onto the ground, where blood was already pooling from various other wounds he had inflicted onto the Host. Having enough of the knife, Dark rammed it into the Host’s thigh, making the man cry out once more, and let it simply stick there. Instead he grabbed a short metal rod, which had been heating up in a fire. The end was glowing white, seething hot.
With a sick grin, Dark lightly tapped the rod against the Host’s chest, the short amount of contact enough to make the Host yelp from the sudden pain. Dark didn’t give him any time to register what was happening though, when he pressed the burning end against the Host.
He screamed in pain, the skin underneath the rod burned, going from red to bubbling with blisters, before slowly turning into ugly yellow-ish brown, when the pain started to subside, nerve endings burned off. The smell of charred flesh filled the air, making the Host almost nauseous.
The rod left the Host’s skin, before it was lightly pressed inside the stab wound on his stomach. The Host screamed once more, the pain intense and going through his whole body almost. He was breathing heavily once the rod left him again, flesh charred and burned.
The Host was hanging more or less limp against the wall, held upright only by his cuffed wrists, legs having given out beneath him a long time ago. His arms were strained, hurt, and dislocated from the weight they had to hold.
Dark disregarded the iron rod, which was already losing its white glow and turning a bright yellow-orange instead. He thought for a moment, before picking up a baseball bat. It had a few nails, old and rusty, but sharp, on one patch at the end.
He swung it with the nails facing away from the Host against the man’s chest, right onto the wounds. It knocked the breath out of the man, who could only gasp sharply in pain. The next swing was against the Host’s thigh, nails getting rammed deep into the flesh. The Host cried in pain, but it turned into a scream as Dark yanked the bat away, ripping the nails out, tearing the flesh on the Host’s thigh open.
Dark proceeded to hit the Host’s arm with the blunt side of the bat, smashing the arm multiple times, until he could hear the bone crack underneath. With another strong hit, he broke the bone, shattering it under the bat. The Host was barely able to give any response, throat hurting from screaming, pain overwhelming and clouding his head.
Dropping the bat, Dark gripped the Host’s head, hand clenching around the man’s hair. He yanked it forward, just to smash his head against the stone wall behind him, earning another cry of pain from the Host. Dark smashed the other’s head against the wall again and again, until there was a dark red spot, and the Host had a definite concussion. It made the Host dizzy, head hurting and blood running down his neck, his ears were ringing.
Dark still wasn’t satisfied. So he grabbed the Host’s still healthy hand and with quick motions yanked the fingers back, one by one, listening to the satisfying cracks of bones breaking. He broke them all twice, leaving a mess of a hand full of bruises and swellings, and fingers bend at impossible angles.
In the end, he grabbed the knife still stuck in the Host’s leg, twisting it and almost cutting out a huge chunk of flesh. Instead he pulled the knife out before that happened, letting it fall to the ground to the other tools he had used.
He had gotten bored.
Leaving the room, he left behind a bloody, bruised, burned and broken Host, hanging limp against the wall, breathing shallow and weak.
There was a low hum as Damien stepped through his dark shadows, glancing up at... Someone remarkably similar to himself. He cocked his head. "Oh, I must be in the wrong dimension. Again. You look... weak." Damien's nose wrinkled in disgust. (dcrkiiplixr)
@dcrkiiplixr
“And you seem disgusting.”, Dark replied, tilting his head lightly to take in the appearance of the other. It was easy to tell it was another Dark, someone like him. Though not in control of someone else, of course.Dark’s voice was still echoing with it’s layers, but not as bad as before. The high-pitched ringing accompanying his voice was barely there.
{ here have a dark thread as well bc why not // feel free to ignore } Oliver wandered into the office where Dark was working. Only to collect some of his own work, nothing else. Dark - no, the Host, now - could have at least made his work digital. It would've been so much easier. When he realised Dark was there, Oli stepped back, still nervous around him. "I-I didn't know that I w-as interrupting you." He mumbled. "A-p-o-l-o-gies."
“You do not need to apologize, Oliver.”, Dark replied, occupied by his paperwork. His grey aura was barely visible around him, just like his voice wasn’t hurtful in the slightest.
Hm, remember Darky, you're weaker, now. *pins his hands down* We're going to have a lot of fun with you. Bing and Ace were fun, but they were already broken. You, on the other hand~
“I, on the other hand, am not as weak as them.”, Dark replied, the high-pitched ringing that had barely been notable gaining strength, a hurtful tone.“I know how to help myself. And I know I’m being watched just as I have watched before.”, he growled lowly.
