Dionysia's Betrayal - The Escape
Part 1: "Captivity"
Warning: Graphic violence, captivity, drugging, psychological manipulation, character death, angst, dark themes.
Elias’s visit ignited a burning in your chest.
You stare at the cup sitting at the edge of the table. You strain your neck forward. The chair creaks as you nudge it with your head.
Once. Twice.
The porcelain falls.
It shatters against the floor.
Perfect.
You start with small swings. Back and forth. Building momentum.
You throw your weight to the left. Just as the chair begins to tip— you hurl your weight in the other direction. You and the chair slam into the ground. Pain shoots up your shoulder. Whimpers escape your lips.
You look down. One of the legs had splintered.
Good.
You push against the table, reaching for the largest shard of glass.
It immediately slices into your palm but you don’t care.
You study the knots.
With how little you could move your wrists, it would take hours.
You don’t have hours.
You crawl toward the cracked floorboard you’d noticed days ago. You wedge the rope between the raised plank and begin dragging your wrists back and forth.
The friction burns. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Fibers fray. It’s working.
Your arms tremble. With only a few strands left, you bite into the rope, desperate.
Snap.
You nearly sob from relief.
Your hands are free.
The glass– you grab it again and turn to your ankles.
The knots are thicker here.
You cut fast. Faster. Faster.
Glass digs into your skin. Blood slicks your grip. But you continue anyway.
Finally— the rope gives way.
You shove the chair aside and scramble to your feet. Dizzy but upright.
The door is so close.
Freedom is one step away.
You lunge forward and grab the handle.
It twists.
Not by you.
Click.
The door opens. You freeze.
Shion stands on the other side.
He doesn’t look surprised. He looks amused.
“Shion…” The air leaves your lungs.
He looks behind your shoulder, calmly assessing the broken chair, the shattered porcelain, and the streaks of blood on the floor.
“I’m home,” he says lightly. “But what are you doing out of your chair?”
“I,” your voice shakes. “I want to go home.”
“But this is your home.”
The words crush whatever hope you had left. Tears blur your vision.
You were so close.
He steps forward and takes your hand.
You flinch instinctively.
The rope burns. The glass cuts. You’re reminded of them.
He lifts your wrist, turning it gently, studying the damage.
“Does it hurt?” He asks, not out of genuine concern. Just curiosity.
You don’t respond.
His fingers tighten.
“Ah!” A sharp cry slips out before you can stop it.
His smile deepens.
“That was cute,” he murmurs. “Again.”
He squeezes harder. Pain explodes up your arm. You try to pull back, but his grip only tightens with resistance.
Beads of blood pour from reopened wounds, trailing down toward your elbow.
“Please…stop.”
He doesn’t.
His other hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for another wave of pain.
Instead, something soft presses against your lips.
Your eyes snap open.
Shion is kissing you.
You freeze in shock.
He pulls back just enough to watch your expression. Something ominous flickers through his eyes.
“I like that look,” he says quietly.
He leans in again. You shove him as hard as you can.
“You’re not my husband!” The words rip out of you. “You’re a monster!”
His yellow eyes glow. The silence nearly chokes you.
Shion likes pain. But he doesn’t like rejection.
His smile disappears.
But it’s not anger. Not hurt. Just emptiness.
“You can’t love me because I’m a monster?” His voice is soft. Almost reflective.
He pulls you into his chest. His arms wrap around you. It’s tight. Not enough to hurt. Just enough that you can’t escape.
“It doesn’t matter,” he whispers into your hair, “you’ll accept me... one day.”
Your body goes cold.
There’s no arguing with him. No reasoning. But there’s no escaping either. The only option now was surrender.
He tilts your chin again, gazes at your lips, and kisses you slowly.
No.
It wasn’t a kiss. It was punishment.
______________
Later that night, he doesn’t tie you to a chair. He sleeps beside you on the cold hard ground. One arm wrapped snugly around your waist.
You should feel relieved. You’re not bound anymore. Yet you’ve never felt more trapped.
Your body is tired, but your eyes refuse to close.
“Hey,”
You don’t respond but somehow he knows you're awake.
“The next time you try to run,” His fingers trail lazily up, just hovering over your neck, “I won’t be so gentle.”
His thumb presses lightly on your pulse.
“Goodnight.”
______________
After that incident, Shion started spending more time in the room with you. Clingier than ever before.
He no longer ties you up when he’s around. Sometimes he even lets you walk to the bathroom without a rope attached to your ankles.
And when he leaves, your wrists are bound to the cabinet in the back. Looser than before. Almost gentle.
It’s as if he trusted you.
But you know that's not true.
He knew you had given up. That you wouldn’t try again.
You stopped arguing. Stopped crying. Stopped rejecting his affection. And when he looked at you, you held his gaze a little longer than before.
He would smile, content with your progress.
______________
Bad Ending
There was no more light in your eyes.
You sat on the ground, lifeless like a doll.
Click.
You don’t bother looking.
Footsteps approach slowly. Shoes stop in front of you.
The figure crouches down.
Your eyes widen.
“Jo?”
He doesn’t look at you.
Soft fingers brush your wrist.
Knots loosen.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t think he would go this far.”
Your heart sinks.
He frees one hand. Then the other.
“You have to go,” he whispers. “Now. Before he comes back–”
“You knew?” Your voice cracks.
His mouth opens. Then closes. His silence felt like a dagger to the heart.
“This is all I can do. I can’t help you any more than this.”
The last of the rope is pulled away. And for a moment, you just sit there.
This room has become your normal. You had stopped fighting because you told yourself this was the only way to survive.
Then it hits you.
Anything is better than staying here.
“Go,” Jo urges.
A small flame lights within you once again.
You stand and you run.
______________
Cold air rushes into your lungs. You almost choke, not used to breathing freely.
You sprint through the circus grounds. Past dim lights. Past silent tents. Past the place that almost became your forever home.
The exit is just ahead.
Despite the pain exploding through your body, you grit your teeth and force yourself forward.
You’re almost there. Just a few more–
A shadow steps into your path. You slam into them. It’s a familiar face. A friend. Relief floods you.
“Mio— thank God—”
His hands close around your arms tightly. Too tight.
“M-Mio?”
Just like Jo, he refused to look at you.
“I’m sorry.”
Your stomach drops.
Mio, out of all of them, you wanted to trust.
“You knew too?”
You try to twist away from his grip.
“How could you do this to me?” you yell. “You coward! I trusted you—”
A card tears into your shoulder.
You gasp.
Then another, close to your spine this time.
You stand, frozen in shock.
Steps approach you. They're familiar.
Something rests lightly on your shoulder.
A gloved hand.
Your breath catches.
You turn slowly.
Shion stands beside you.
“Didn't I tell you?" he whispers, "That I wouldn't be gentle this time?”
A card sinks into your side–not thrown. Deliberately placed.
Your breath trembles.
“You got used to it,” he murmurs. “You accepted me,”
His fingers curl around the the card, pushing it in deeper.
“And you still left.”
Your body gives out.
Mio lets go. But Shion catches you before you hit the ground.
He lowers himself with you, cradling you in his lap.
Warm blood pools beneath you.
“Ah,” you hear Elias's voice from behind, “Shion, I told you not to kill her.”
A quiet sigh. "What a waste."
Shion doesn’t respond.
Instead, his hand presses into your wound. Not to stop the bleeding. Just to feel it.
“Does that hurt?” he asks quietly. There’s fascination in his eyes. But something else too. Sorrow? Regret? Was he even capable of those feelings?
He lowers his head, lips near your ear.
“If you had stayed… We could’ve been a family forever.”
You almost laugh. Almost.
With the little strength you have left, you lift your trembling hand. You cup his cheek.
“Shion,” your voice tremors, “We were never a family.”
He flinches.
His expression flickers. Just slightly. Like a crack on a porcelain cup.
“... We were,” he murmurs, “...to me.”
You have no breath left to argue. Your hand falls to the side.
“Don’t go yet,” he says. For the first time, he sounds… afraid.
His fingers press deeper into the wound as if to wake you.
“Tell me,” he murmurs, voice even softer now. “How does it feel?”
Your vision blurs.
“Does it hurt? Aren’t you cold?”
His arms tighten around you, like he’s holding onto whatever life you have left.
“Keep talking. Don’t go yet.”
A pause.
“...Please.”
The world goes dark.
You enter a deep slumber… forever.
