All That is Evil
Summary: You were taught to fear yourself, not what’s following you.
Pairing: Demon!Shawn x (fem)Reader
Warning: Swearing, blood, mention of pills, mentions of violence, mentions of death, mad angst
From the age of one to twenty-one, you knew something was wrong with you. Whether it began when you scraped your knee at four, or got hit in the face with a baseball at twelve, you noticed something weird, and it wasn’t normal.
Firstly, you heard a laugh. It wasn’t anything recognizable, like a family member or friend, it sounded different. Darker. Sinister. You learned that word at six, as it was the most accurate word to describe the internal fear you felt every time you got hurt. Like someone watching a comedy, and the punchline came. Literally.
Second, you bled black. People said it was just darker blood, a higher iron content, doctors said. It made sense when it was just a small paper cut or even a nosebleed, but it didn’t add up when you gave blood at the school’s blood drive at sixteen. The whole bag was blacker than the skinny jeans your best friend wore. You never forgot the fear radiating throughout the room once the nurse lifted the vessel of black.
The third thing that felt wrong was the shadows. Reflections. A sign of someone behind you, which didn’t become apparent until a family member pointed out the second shadow you had. It happened in the summertime, around the time for evening, and it was brushed off as a weird sunlight. However, it transformed into more, when you took showers and afterwards looking into the fogged mirror to see a blurred figure behind you. Again, the trick of an eye or soap, because when you blinked it went away.
It didn’t make sense to anyone. Doctors and psychologists were beyond shocked. They preformed CAT scans, blood tests, even isolation and electrotherapy to find a cure. However, it left you more rattled, scared, and hooked onto a cocktail of pills for insanity.
By the age of eighteen, you had taken enough pills for the entire city of Toronto to survive upon. You gave up, cutting off the supply of chemicals and let your mind free. After all the time you spent fearing yourself, it was time to give into the corrupted visions you were taught to ignore. Even on the pills, you heard a laugh, felt the tight chest, seen ink pour from your veins and watched a second figure follow you along the city streets.
You had an apartment in the middle of Toronto complete with a dog, and beautiful plants. Somehow, you grabbed the fifteenth floor suite and it was safe to say you’ve never made a better purchase. It became the only place you felt normal, even if you saw double on sunny days. However, you felt chills on the hottest days, and now that you were alone with your pit bull, Sebastian, things were even wilder then before. Items were moved around, clock times were off by hours, and Sebastian always barked at the same corner of your bedroom.
It didn’t make sense, not much did, but you learned not to question the minor inconvenienced you’d experience daily. Yet, you adapted and worked with the hand you were dealt with. All is fine in love and war.
You were content with the light chaos, where afterwards you counted your blessings, but none were enough when you turned around to see him. A man stood behind you, clad in black pants and boots with a grey button down and a bird tattoo. In a way, he felt familiar. Like you’ve passed each other on the street, or even in the elevator on the way to your room. Yet, it wasn’t the sight of him that was a memory. It was the shooting pain in your chest. Sinister.
His brow was furrowed, posture strong and jaw set. You had to look beyond his harsh stance and the bile on your tongue to open your mouth. He held up a finger, silencing your words. “I’m Shawn. Don’t ask how I got in here because I’m getting you out.”
He, Shawn, walked towards your bedroom and opened the door, striding to the closet and stepping in. You blinked a few times, letting the tight knot in your chest release before you protested. “Hey, hey! Get the fuck out of my apartment, who the hell do you think you are? How did you get in here? Stop- Stop touching my clothing you freak!” Running behind him, you grabbed his arm.
Within a blink, Shawn had you pinned to the wall, his bird tattoo clad against your throat. Tears quickly formed in your eyes, choking out coughs and pleas for your life. He chuckled. “Your fear is delicious, my love.” Shawn said as he leaned in to your hair, sucking in a deep breath. “However, we need to go, and I’m done with these foolish games.”
A final squeeze and he was off of your cowering body, turning around to ignore your body crumpling over. Shawn zipped up the overnight bag he packed himself and began walking towards the door. You stood upright, coughing into your elbow while wiping tears. He motioned to the door, tapping his foot.
“I’m not going unless you tell me where and why.” Shawn let out a groan, taking quick strides. “You need to trust me, my love. I’m here to protect you. Trust me and I will keep you safe.” You scoffed.
“Then, what the hell was that, moron? If you wanted to sneak in and steal my stuff, fine. Get out. I’m not going with you.” Shawn shook his head, his brows furrowing tighter. As he opened his mouth, there was a light knock at your door. You began walking to the door, yet Shawn caught your arm. “Let go.”
He pulled you to the bedroom once again, covering your mouth tightly and closing the door behind you. “Listen, we need to leave right now.” You shook your head, reaching for the door once again. “Tell me what the fuck is going on, Shawn. Why should I trust you? Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
Shawn turned towards the door, ear pressed to hear the newly formed commotion in the living room and kitchen area. You held your breath, watching Shawn run to the window and open the glass. He turned quickly, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to sit on the ledge. Shawn kept your face to him, not wanting you to watch the next event to occur.
The bedroom door whipped opened, you let out a scream. Looking to Shawn, he gave you the first smile since meeting him. “I’m taking you to Hell.” And with a quick shove, you fell back.
You’d always imagined death to be beautiful, like a celebration of your happiest times and memories. A farewell to the life you’d been blessed with, and onto a newer and more exciting adventure. It was a mystery as to what life was like after your time was up. However, now you knew.
It was a plush, king sized bed with red satin sheets in a room surrounded by black, grey and white. The floors were marbled, the walls were a solid tone of grey, and the bed frame was engraved with patterns so intricate it would take days to finish the detailing.
You sat up in the beautifully soft sheets, fingers grabbing at the material thick in your fingers. Letting out a yawn, you stretched your sore arms. Peering around once more. The room was bare and lacking personality, yet you wondered why there was no memoirs or items of sentimental value. As your feet touched the surprisingly warm marble, the door opened.
Shawn.
He walked in, a cut on his forehead and bruises along his jaw and lip. You gasped, the fear diving into your chest like a blade. He caught your shocked expression, sucking in a deep breath with a smile. “Good morning, my love. I see you slept well.” Shawn walked beyond your frame, and opened the newly discovered bathroom door to clean up.
With hesitance, you stood and followed him in, marveling at the stunning black and white features along the room. “What happened, can you please explain to me where I am?” Shawn held a white towel to his forehead, watching the blood seep into the fabric. It was black.
“You’re in Hell, my love. You died.”
Scoffing, you pushed off the doorframe and walked into the bathroom fully, standing tall next to Shawn. “Shut the fuck up, tell me where I really am.” Shawn let out a giggle, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. “Is that really how you should be talking to your King? After all, I saved your life.”
You looked directly into the mirror, panic beginning to seep further into your bones. Shawn stood up tall, walking behind you in the mirror, focused on your confused facial expression. “Don’t you remember seeing me after those long nights, where you’d use those pretty little bath bombs? Or hearing my laugh when you’d burn yourself on the stove. How careless.”
Tears flooded your eyes. “Stop.” Shawn placed his bruised and swollen hands on your shoulders, connecting his eyes with yours. “What about all those sunny days on the sidewalk, or how you saw me move in your peripherals?”
“Stop it, Shawn.”
“I’ve always been here, by your side. Waiting for the right moment to bring you home. I couldn’t stand those bastards hurting your precious mind. Stopping what was rightfully mine. But, now you’re here with me, my love. And we can make them pay. Wouldn’t you like that?”
You sobbed into your hand, slowly falling to the ground of the bathroom floor, collapsing in on yourself. “You were meant to rule alongside me, you were born for the crown. I brought you here. I saved you! I killed those angels, ripped their wings feather by feather! Isn’t that enough?”
Looking beyond your tears, Shawn was standing above you, a small frown on his cheeks. “I-I need time.” He nodded, heading for the door. “Wait, Shawn?” He turned on his heel, bruises already beginning to fade lightly into greens and yellow. “Where’s Sebastian?”
Shawn clicked his tongue, then suddenly jerked forwards. “Oh, yes! Of course. I left him there, in your apartment. You’ll see him soon, in about a month, give or take a few weeks. However long it takes for... Okay, I’ll let you be.”
He left the bedroom, leaving you to quiet sobs in the new place you would soon call home.