a-sprinkle-of-geeky

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

12 Hours (Part Six - End)

Welcome.      Part One.    Part Two.       Part Three.       Part Four.     Part Five

This story contains blood, murder and quite a bit of violent angst.

This particular part contains extreme injuries yet recovery, please be cautious if you are sensitive to these subjects.

.

Levi had expected this to be the end, preparing himself to be shot or thrown off of a bridge. He was an unconscious heap and his thoughts were foggy, his body unable to wake yet his mind alert. He thought about Sage and JoJo, Lucas and Clyde and anyone else he was going to let down.

He was prepared to accept the fact that he was going to die for nothing.

Levi took a controlled breath, the first one since he had been drugged, and groaned as the drug slowly began to unleash his mind from its grasp. He coughed and clenched his eyes, his body tingling with pins and needles.

He wasn’t at the bottom of a river, at least.

It took him a minute before he felt conscious enough to move and began by spreading out his fingers, tracing the rough ground of a pavement and immediately forced his eyes open. There he saw dark blurs illuminated by orange streetlights, the silhouettes of the nightly figures passing by.

Levi pressed his hand to his face to ensure that his glasses were still there, yet cursed when he found them vacant, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows to try and locate them. Levi groped the ground and touched something different than the familiar shape of his glasses, gazing down as he picked it up and squinted. Though it was a messy blur, it was unmistakable. It was the jar containing Clyde’s soul. 

He let out a short cry and clutched it to his chest, sitting up and feeling his knee press into his glasses. Levi grabbed them clumsily and put them back on, glad to see clearly despite there being a crack in the left lens. He looked at the soul and breathed out, thankful that its surface was intact and, most importantly, unharmed.

Levi raised his head and looked around, immediately recognising where he was. He was a block away from the facility, he could see the towering building in the distance. He saw two passers by who looked concerned at him but hurried along, not wishing to speak to the man clutching a soul and hadn’t seen a bed or a shower in three days.

He staggered up to his feet, stumbling against the wall as the drug still lingered in his body. He breathed heavily and pressed the jar close to himself, the pain in his chest becoming apparent in his laboured breaths. Still, Levi didn’t give up. He didn’t care anymore. He was getting this soul back to Clyde, even if it meant he collapsed.

The doctor began running, a limp in his step and his face full of his last, dying determination.

.

Clyde’s surgery could not legally continue without his soul. 

The past three days had been constant surgery and tests on his fragile body but at least now they had managed to mend his knee and properly treat his spine. Lucas was absolutely broken by now, breaking down into his bandaged hands and crying his apologies for hours on end. Yet Clyde just kept looking at the light mindlessly, the heart monitor signalling his only sign of sentience.

The law had a rule that any Husks that had not had their soul returned within a week would have to be put to sleep, since they knew that it was only torture to the person who experienced it.

Lucas’ mind was breaking as each day passed yet there was no hope in tracking the soul, Levi or the murderous couple. All of them were completely off the grid and he did not know what to do other than cry and drink away his sorrows.

As Lucas’ mind swirled, so did his anger. Every moment he saw the love of his life wounded like this was only making his desire to slaughter those maniacs even greater. They were going to pay for their actions and he would get them off of this planet, even if it killed him. He was sick to death of their abuse and tyranny over the city. They had committed so much crime that people were terrified to leave their homes, they had shot Tyrell through the chest and he was only just starting to properly heal, they had killed three of his men and had most likely done the same to Levi.

He had been missing in action for three days now and the inability to track him was driving Sage to a breakdown. He had called Levi hundreds of times, refused to sleep, ran patrols whenever he could and sent out countless search parties just to try and track his husband. No amount of reasoning or reassurance could reach him and it was clear he wasn’t going to stop until he knew where Levi was. He panicked endlessly about his safety, his lack of medication or proper physical care for his body and broke down into tears at the thought of him being trapped somewhere with no help. They were all lost and their hope was depleting. 

The only one who had the slightest bit of hope was Daniel, who was still close to giving up but only holding on because Tyrell had woken up and was able to start speaking again.

“Do you need anything?” Dan asked for the third time this hour, interlocking his fingers with him.

“No, no... I’m alright,” Ty said quietly, contently gazing into his eyes, “You should sleep, darling...”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Dan admitted fearfully, reaching out and stroking his cheek, “I’m too scared.”

“I told you, I’m alright...” He assured him gently, leaning into his hand and kissing his palm. He looked at the bed and, with effort, managed to moved himself to the side.

“D-Don’t move, Ty, you’ll hurt yourself,” Dan stood up anxiously, hovering his hand over the bandaged would, “What’s the matter? Do you need me to get Dr Eren?”

“No..” Ty replied, holding his hand securely, “You can get in the bed with me...so I can stay with you whilst you sleep.”

“I don’t want to dislodge any of your IVs-” He tried to protest but Ty gently pulled him down and he couldn’t resist it. He needed a hug so badly...

He snuggled under Ty’s arm and slid his hand under his back, looking up at him tearfully. The scarred demon smiled softly and wrapped his arm around him, just managing to kiss his head and keep his arm in a position that would not disrupt any of the wires connected to his skin. Dan hugged his stomach and gently nestled his head on his shoulder, curling up and tangling his legs with Ty’s as he closed his eyes and listened to his heartbeat whilst Ty lovingly stroked his hair.

“Just sleep, babe, you’ve been awake long enough...” He murmured soothingly, closing his own eyes and listening to Dan gradually start to slip asleep. Just before they could, however, a yell startles them awake as Sage stormed past outside.

“Sage, calm down!” Lydia warned him.

“No! No, I will not be calm!” He cried, “Levi is out there and no one else is trying to help him! Clyde was found in less than a day but when it is Levi you all just deem him to be dead!”

“Clyde was different, we had evidence to track him,” She raised her hands to try and settle him, “We’re doing everything we can to find him, you need to calm down.”

“I don’t need to do anything but find my husband,” He insisted, “Just let me go on another patrol!”

“We’ve been on ten in the last few days, what makes you think that this one will bring any evidence?”

“I need to try!” Sage said, clutching his hair, “He could be trapped somewhere and be unable to talk o-or call out! He could have been wounded by Zyren or Flin, you saw what they do to doctors!”

Ty tensed up, holding his chest and pulled Dan, who was breathing quickly, closer to himself to try and calm him down.

“I know you’re upset, Sage, just please listen to me,” Lydia said, “Just lower your voice, you’re upsetting the patients...”

Sage gazed over at them and covered his face, letting out a frustrated cry before breaking for the elevator with Lydia running after him.

He collapsed against the wall and looked at the ascending elevator, repeatedly pressing the button in desperation and shifting on his feet with impatience. Why was the elevator taking so long?

Sage was just about to run for the stairs when the doors pulled back and revealed a shocking sight.

It was Levi. He was standing there in dirty clothing with a determined expression but endless pain and exhaustion in his worn features. He was clutching something to his chest and his glasses were cracked. When he saw Sage he did a double take.

Sage gasped at the sight of him and cried out his name whilst Levi did the same. Levi staggered into his arms and Sage picked him up, clinging to him as tightly as he could without hurting him.

“Levi!” He wept, “I was so scared! I was so scared!”

“Oh thank god, Levi-” Lydia breathed out, “We’re so glad you’re okay.”

“Le-Levi, I’m- I’m- so glad you’re...I thought...” Sage stammered, holding his hand against Levi’s hair, “Oh fuck, what happened to you? Where were you!? I was so worried!”

Levi held him tightly. He wanted to just let his legs give way and stay in his arms forever, but he had one last thing to do before he could let himself rest. It took effort, but he reluctantly pulled away with a dreary voice. “I need Clyde,” He looked around, “I need to get to him, what ward is he in?”

“Levi...” Sage tried to hold onto him but the doctor was already stumbling off. He looked at Lydia with worry and followed after him with her at his side. 

Lydia glanced at Levi’s hand as he rushed around the corner and her eyes widened. “Holy shit, he’s got Clyde’s soul!”

.

Clyde’s mother, Marie, was weeping into her hands whilst his father, Otto, tried to console her with tears running down his own cheeks. They were initially deployed overseas on military business but rushed back as soon as they could when they received a phone call of what had happened. They were two German military workers with Marie as the lead nurse in first aid and Otto as the lead General, they were confident and collected in their profession but when it came down to their only child getting hurt, it shattered them to pieces.

Eren tried to warn them of the extent of their son’s injuries but Otto pushed past him. Lucas had never seen Otto show such horror and pain before and his chest burned with guilt and he held his hand.

“My baby...” Marie sobbed when she saw him, running her hand through his hair and resting her forehead on his before collapsing on the chair and covering her face.

“Who did this to him?” Otto asked, anger in his tone.

“Flinar and Zyren,” Lucas replied coldly, his chin rested against Clyde’s loose fingers, “I am going to kill them for what they’ve done.”

“What... what the person said over the phone about him being...” She couldn’t say it but Lucas’ ears lowered, immediately knowing what she was referring to, “Please tell me it isn’t true...”

He looked away tearfully and she only wailed more, having to be pulled into Otto’s arms so she could sob. Otto was shaking.

“I’ll kill them with my bare hands,” He stated shakily with fury, “I’ll put them through exactly what they did to him but ten times worse!”

“My baby boy... they were so cruel!” Marie sobbed, “He didn’t do anything to deserve treatment like this!”

“I will do everything in my power to make sure he is safe and happy...” Lucas said, trying not to break down himself, “I’ll-”

He was cut off by someone bursting inside the ward, making them flinch in surprise when a very dishevelled Levi staggered inside and held up a jar containing Clyde’s soul. Lucas sprung up to his feet in an instant and caught Levi before he could fall, yet the doctor pulled away and grabbed the bed railings with a heavy stumble.

“Where were you, Levi?” Lucas asked in shock, “How did you get it back?!”

“Just fucking shut up,” Levi wheezed, Sage putting his arm around his waist. He pulled the lid off the top and let the soul drift outward into his palm, its surface flickering. Clyde’s eyes finally drifted from the light and rested on his soul, making a weak whimper as his hand tried to reach out for it.

Levi pulled away once more and leaned over him, turning his hand over and pressing the mint coloured orb against Clyde’s chest, watching as his chest glowed a soft turquoise and feeling the soul sink into his being. The wounded doctor took a deep, sentient breath as the colour soaked back into his eyes and returned some colour to his cheeks.

He rolled his head and opened his eyes as much as he could, seeing Levi standing over him and watching him in pained confusion as he broke down and smiled. “You fucking idiot,” Levi choked out, but he was smiling, “You better appreciate being alive, don’t you ever scare us like that again.”

Clyde was too dizzy to comprehend what he said, it sounded like his head was underwater.. there was so much going on.

He reached into his pocket and set something on the foot of his bed before his mind clouded over and he found himself collapsing backwards into Sage’s arms and falling unconscious. Sage caught him and picked him up, worriedly shaking him but Lydia put her arm around him as Lucas stood there dumbfounded on what to do.

“Let’s get him patched up,” She said, guiding him out of the ward to the office.

Marie was holding Clyde’s cheek in her hand and running her thumb under his bruised eye whilst Otto held his other hand.

“..mami...” He croaked, trying his best to lean into her hand, “It hurts...”

“I know, Seerose, I know,” She whispered, “We’re going to take good care of you, we’ll make you better.”

Clyde tried to sit up but let out a cry of pain and Lucas panicked, lying him down again as he looked at him.

“Oh god, Clyde... I’m so sorry,” Lucas said. He had so much he wanted to apologise for. He wanted to collapse to his knees and sob for hours whilst begging him to forgive his foolishness. He wanted to say so much but he knew now wasn’t the time, he knew he needed the most support right now. “You’re safe now, they’re never going to hurt you again, I promise.”

He gazed down at his fingers and then at the foot of the bed where he saw Levi place something. It was glinting in the light above. His wedding ring. He let out a desperate whine for it and Lucas turned towards where he was looking, retrieving it and gently shushing him. He slipped it onto his finger and kissed his forehead.

“Thought...lost it,” He whispered in relief, looking down at it but still wanting to cry... it made him feel better but his pain would not stop.

Clyde was overwhelmed with emotions and pain, he could not move and he could not feel his leg. He whimpered, gripping Lucas’ hand as tight as he could, he needed support more than ever. Especially when he twitched his leg, which made the colour drain from his face when he realised.

The memories flooded back and he struggled for breath, forcing his arms despite the pain and pulling off the sheets.

“Clyde, don’t look-” Otto tried but he couldn’t stop the inevitable truth and he clenched his fist around the bed’s support handles. He pressed his lips together.

Clyde stared in disbelief. Up until now he had hoped it was all bad dream, a nightmare that took too long to end and was all but over. But it was all true. His right leg was in a brace and his left one... was gone.

“Leg...” He got out, the ventilator forcing him to take deep breaths which drugged his dizzy mind, “My leg...”

“Baby... it is okay, you’re gonna be okay...” Lucas stroked his hair but Clyde wasn’t in the condition to be reassured. He stared wide eyed and pressed his sore head into the pillow, crying out as Marie stroked his cheek.

Clyde finally broke down, letting out all of his trauma in broken, hoarse wails whilst his family comforted him all the while.

.

Several months had gone by since the incident. It was difficult for everyone at first since Clyde needed so much treatment, which made him incredibly guilty and upset. It was a long road before he was allowed home.

He was taken out in a wheelchair by Lucas, who was so supportive and loving despite Clyde worrying that he was too much of a burden. Otto and Marie followed at his sides as they took him home for the first time, greeted by their children and Tyrell, who was still in psychical therapy but looked happier than ever. Dan was also slowly improving from the mental stress he was put under and managed a few smiles and hugs where he could.

Lucas was determined to kill Flinar and Zyren once and for all and was just about to leave on his mission that night when Clyde took his sleeve and quietly begged him not to. He had a pained expression talking about them but despite everything they had done, he still believed that they could have a chance to improve. Lucas gave in, unable to protest against his sweetheart and took off his armour to spend the night watching a movie in bed despite Clyde falling asleep on him only a quarter way through. As for Flinar and Zyren, there was no criminal reports from them at all, whether it was because of Flinar’s injury or something else, he didn’t know, but Levi refused to tell anyone what had happened whilst he was gone.

For two months Clyde was practically bed bound, merely watching the world go by from his bedroom window when he wasn’t being taken back to the facility for endless amounts of treatment, surgery and therapy. He was dead silent for most of it, flinching at anything that moved too quickly and panicking whenever he could see the basement or any kind of mechanical tool. He was self conscious, hiding away in bed and not smiling at all since his missing tooth made him incredibly embarrassed. Clyde felt like a burden to the entire family, feeling ashamed of his continuous nightmares which made him sleep with the light on and hug Lucas’ arm whilst he slept.

He was clingy to his family members, getting frightened when he was left on his own for too long so, to help ease his worries, they gave him a plush rabbit which helped improve the fear, especially when Shadow - Clyde’s cat - came to console him. After that things gradually began to improve.

He would eat his entire dinner and make conversation, giving loving kisses and hugs to all of his family members when they got close to him. He and Dan would sit in the living room together and give each other manicures, watch movies all day or just eat take away food and talk. The therapy with Levi was finally starting to pay off and the physio with Sage started to improve his overall health, especially when the prosthetic came in to play.

It was a long process getting him to adjust, with many tears, falls and meltdowns but Lucas remembered watching Clyde successfully walk down the walkway for the first time with absolutely no support. He waited at the other end tearfully and held out his arms. Clyde had wobbled and paused twice but he eventually reached his husband and grasped his hands, kissing him. Lucas had looked at his face and held it in his hands, telling him over and over how proud he was and then Clyde smiled for the first time in months.

He had a new, fake tooth fitted into his mouth but even then he hadn’t smiled until now. He was grinning and holding Lucas’ hands in his own, his cheeks tinted pink and his eyes shining. It was the most beautiful thing Lucas had ever seen.

((The End))

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This was super messy and definitely rushed but I really wanted to get this done! Despite it all, it was still fun to spill this lore into a story and I hope you enjoyed reading it.

Thank you for reading. See you later! <3

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

12 Hours (Part Five)

Welcome.            Part One.         Part Two.       Part Three.     Part Four.

This story contains blood, murder and quite a bit of violent angst.

This particular part contains extreme injuries, please be cautious if you are sensitive to these subjects.

.

“Has anyone seen Levi?” Sage, Levi’s husband, asked to anyone who wasn’t preoccupied. The mission was officially successful but they had faced their fair share of wounded and dead; with fifteen injured and three deaths. Sage had first assumed Levi was in the surgery rooms but when he glanced at the digital list stating which doctors were inside, his name did not show on any of them. He had then assumed that he was in the garage where the rest of the uninjured teams were unpacking, so he hurried down.

He had gotten the same answers. The remaining front line teams hadn’t seen him, the flanks weren’t aware that he even went along, the medical team didn’t remember him being in the ambulances. Sage was becoming increasingly worried as he weaved between the cars, ambulances and passing workers, trying to spot his partner but to no avail. Eventually he turned the corner and saw the bodies of the three dead, covered by bloody white tarps and he saw the flick of a lab coat beneath it. His stomach flipped and he raced towards it, skidding to his knees.

Please, please, please. Don’t let it be him. Don’t let it be him.

Sage tore away the tarp from their heads and his heart nearly stopped.

It wasn’t Levi but another doctor, an older man with a bullet in his forehead. Sage pulled back and covered his mouth, his body flooding with a mix of morbid relief and horror. There was no hesitation against this doctor, it was no doubt at the hand of Zyren’s gun. Sage was certain that even the guards Nate mentioned earlier knew better than to purposely shoot someone in first aid. 

He didn’t dare look at the other two and hurriedly pulled the tarp over them once more, clutching his head as he breathed out. He cursed beneath his breath, trying to blink the image out of his brain and focus.

He got up, his arm feeling numb and heavy whilst his prosthetic gripped his hair.

If Levi isn’t here, where is he?

“Sage?” A voice called him and he turned around, seeing Lydia behind him. She was a doctor who focused and studied the mythical and supernatural - someone who knew how to treat a werewolf’s violence or a vampire’s blood-lust whilst still being incredibly skilled in medicinal treatment. “What are you doing over here?”

“I-I’m looking for Levi,” He replied shakily, not sure what to do with himself, “You haven’t seen him have you?”

“He hasn’t reported back at all, I thought he was recovering with you,” She slowly guided him away from the tarps.

“No, I was- I was looking for him, I thought for a second that he was...” He looked back at at the bodies but Lydia quickly averted his attention, “What do you mean he hasn’t reported back?”

“There’s no record of him stating his return on the lists,” She looked around bit her nail as she pondered.

“So he’s not here?” Sage’s heart was prepared to stop again, “Everyone else said they hadn’t seen him, he’s not picking up his phone and his GPS isn’t responding.”

Lydia looked concerned. “Sage, do not panic, we will find him.”

“What if they left him behind?” He exclaimed, “What if he was wounded and no one realised!”

“Sage-”

“I need to look for him, tell me where you just were!”

“I will, but only if you let me come with you,” She stated, “I’m not going to risk you getting wounded on your own.”

He nodded and took her arm, rushing over to a vacant 4x4, snatching a rifle and climbing inside. Lydia climbed inside and filled her pistol with a fresh magazine, turning on her tablet to try and track Levi. Nate had spotted them at the last moment and ran after them to try and stop them but they were gone before he could reach them.

.

It had been hours now.

Clyde had only just been released from his continuous surgery and x-rays and was finally laid in the recovery ward with an official list of his injuries. Lucas had been forced into the shower to wash off the blood and bandage himself up, yet he had only cleaned himself off, dressed and rushed back to his side.

By now he knew that his husband was a husk, yet was far too overwhelmed to be any more distraught than he already was. Night had fallen and the long room was illuminated by white light, highlighting his injuries. Without the blood covering his body he could see the true extent of what he endured. 

His body was covered head to toe in bandages, cotton, wires and tubes, his lip and left cheek were swollen and he had two black eyes which made his eyes appear sunken. His hands, that were wrapped up like a mummy’s, were covered in IV needles and were trembling against the covers. His hair was the faintest shade of blue now that they were gradually re-hydrating him and his once soft skin was clammy, cold, chapped and bruised - as fragile as paper. There was an oxygen mask over his face that was connected to a ventilator and his bed was so surrounded by machines that they had to remove the bedside table to make room. He was bundled up in a heated blanket and warm clothing to treat the hypothermia he had come down with but Lucas could still tell he was very sick.

Lucas sat down at his side and took his hand, looking into his open grey eyes. He was looking at the light again but he didn’t react to anything at all, his trembling hand limp in his husband’s own. He didn’t know what to say, every time he closed his eyes he could hear him screaming and begging, the guard pinning him down and chuckling at his agony. No matter how hard he tried to believe that what he did to that guard was enough, his rage cursed at him for killing him so mercilessly yet he doubted that anything he inflicted on him could satisfy his anger.

Lucas’ ear perked as he heard someone enter and turned towards him, seeing Frazier - one of the senior doctors - holding a clipboard.

“What’s that?” Lucas asked worriedly, his grip on Clyde’s hand gently tightening.

“It is his finalised list of injuries,” Frazier replied, “I don’t think you should look at it.”

Lucas ignored that and silently held his hand out for it, his eyes pleading, and the doctor sighed and handed it to him. It was nearly a page long.

Removed left leg. Shattered patella in the right leg. Three broken ribs. Concussion. Loss of left premolar. Right lung bruised. Loss of all fingernails. Small impalement wound through the left hand. Ten lashes across torso and lower back, which has caused spinal bruising and minor spine compression. Bruised throat. Severely dehydrated. Infection found in the lower back lashes and left knee. Severe hypothermia.

Loss of Soul. Return as soon as possible.

By the end of the page, Lucas’ tears dripped onto the paper. There were more but he felt too sick to read them as they were related to the sixth hour and that guard. He trembled as he lifted the paper and read through the three pages worth of treatment he was going to have to endure. Surgery for his patella and ribs, surgery for his lungs, his spine, then further stitches for his lashes when his soul was returned, scans, medication, psychical restoration, therapy...

Lucas put his head in his hands and let out a broken sob. “I should never have let him out of my sight,” He wept as Frazier put his hand on his back, “I was a careless fool and now he’s hurt and sick, so so sick... he’s in so much pain because of me!”

“Lucas, he isn’t in pain - we have him on strict morphine doses but I doubt that would have made a difference - he wouldn’t have survived if he wasn’t a Husk.” Frazier tried to reassure him but what he said only seemed to make matters worse.

“Don’t say that like it’s a good thing!” Lucas snapped, “His soul never should have been taken, he should have never had been the one to pay for my profession! I should have been the one who was hurt! It should have been me!”

Frazier was quiet for a moment before he sighed and rethought of what he was going to say. “Do not say that, he wouldn’t have wanted any of this to happen to you and you know it - please, be thankful that he is back with us, alive.”

“But it is just his body!” Lucas looked up and stared at Clyde, who hadn’t moved, “Those fuckers still have him and they could kill him in an instant! They could just crush his soul into... into dust and I wouldn’t be able to stop it!”

“He is going to get through this,” Frazier promised, “We’re going to bring him back to the state he was before all of this, we will find his soul before they can hurt him any more, we’ll heal him, get him a prosthetic and all of the help he needs. We cannot change what has happened but the most we can do is be here now.”

Lucas didn’t know how to reply, he was distraught, guilty and broken. All he wanted was to see his husband safe in his arms. He wanted to take him away from all of this pain and trauma, to make sure that he never endured a single second under the hands of those murderers. But he was useless. He could do nothing to help him, all he could do is sit and cry at his bedside.

He opened his eyes once more and looked at his face, his poor face, and shuffled closer with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I don’t care how much it costs,” He stated, reaching out and clinging to Clyde’s hand once more as he doubled up, “I’ll make you better, I promise darling... even if it takes everything I have, I’ll make sure that you’re happy again...”

Meanwhile, Daniel was sat in a separate ward of the facility next to his own partner, who was lying in the bed with a large, bandaged would over his chest. He was shirtless and his arms were lain upon the covers, pierced with IVs and vital trackers as he breathed deeply into a ventilator. He was unconscious as of now and was pale as death, a second blood transfusion being slowly inserted into his system via a tube since he had only just come out of his surgery.

He was exhausted from crying and was doubled up, his head rested on Ty’s stomach to hear his breathing and pulse. He had one hand interlocked with Ty’s whilst the other soothingly stroked his skin, watching as the heart monitor signalled his finally steady heartbeat. Despite him knowing that Ty was alive and was going to recover, he was still terrified that something was going to turn for the worst.

He was scared for him and his best friend, scared that he wouldn’t get to say goodbye should they die. He wanted to visit Clyde to see what had happened to him yet Lucas was adamant against letting anyone see him besides the doctors or his parents. He was all alone, he had no one to talk to other than Ty and hope he could listen but he didn’t want to bombard him with even more stress. He had never felt so alone and scared before, frightened that Ty would suddenly perish without warning, that he would never be able to tell him how much he loved him. Dan didn’t know what to do without him, so he just sat there silently and prayed he would recover soon.

.

Zyren had been cleaning the house religiously, always pulling things out to reorganise them in alphabetical order, then an hour later in colour order, then back to alphabetical. The bookshelf had been de-cluttered, then stuffed back to its usual, crowded state as the spaces between the books made Zy agitated, then it was soon de-cluttered once again. The kitchen had been vigorously sanitised, the dishes cleaned on two seperate occasions and all of the food in the fridge had been organised alphabetically and by their various categories.

He was stressed beyond comprehension, trying to cope with Flin’s injury and running up the stairs whenever he called out to him in pain. He was lying in bed, clawing the covers and crying at his leg, which had bled through the bandages for the third time. It was rested on a bloody towel and was swelling quite severely, which greatly disgusted Zy but he tried not to let it show.

“Zy...” Flin wept, pressing his head back into the pillows, “Zy, it hurts...I need pain killers, please...”

“If you have any more you will overdose,” Zy sat on the bed and hugged him. Flin desperately held onto him and cried, his body shaking as his leg twitched. He was still wearing the flannel and it did seem to be helping him stay calm, but the pain was too much for him to stay calm.

His skin was clammy and his breaths were laboured, he couldn’t sit up because of the dizziness and the blood - whilst it did reduce - hadn’t stopped weeping through.

He wasn’t going to make it through the night if this carried on.

“Make it stop, please...” He begged, “I promise I’ll listen to you properly, just please make it stop!”

“I... I cannot,” Zyren admitted, that pain in his chest returning with a pang. “You need to be braver.”

Flin arched his back and let out a loud whimper of agony. “I can’t, I can’t!” He cried, “Please make it end!”

As he kept crying, the front door was opened and Kaito returned with his gun pushed into Levi’s back as they walked in.

Levi had been thrown into the back of a van, had his GPS removed and destroyed and was driven off to god knows where. He tried to keep track of each turn but he had eventually lost count and just sat there silently until the van stopped and he was heaved out. He was guided down a slab pathway and pushed inside a house, the smell of sanitiser hitting his nose immediately, which made him wrinkle his nose.

He was pushed into the centre of another room and, after Kaito drew all of the curtains, the cotton sack was finally pulled from his head, revealing the living room of a house that was so spotless that it reminded him of a dollhouse. “Why the hell did you bring me here?” He asked.

“Just get upstairs,” Kaito ordered, shoving him towards the stairs, “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll crush the twat’s soul right here.”

Levi scowled and ascended the staircase, the smell of blood replacing the scent of cleaning supplies. He began to hear groaning and crying, no doubt from pain, and the moment he reached the landing he stopped.

Flinar was lying on the bed, squirming and wailing and kicking his leg, which had had been quite brutally amputated. Levi saw from first glance that it was not a clean sever and could tell that his bone was protruding openly. They wanted him to treat him.

There was no way in hell Levi was ever going to heal this psychopath’s leg. He would gladly watch him bleed out right now, but his hatred did not stop the gun being pushed into his back to coax him into the bedroom.

“I’ve brought a facility doctor,” Kaito said and Zyren looked up them. Levi refused to show fear.

“Is he bugged?” Zyren asked, 

“No, I made sure of it,” Kaito replied but he didn’t seem convinced, standing up and clearly trying to stop himself from holding Flin when he reached out for him. He walked over and physically inspected Levi, pulling at his arms and legs to make sure that he didn’t have anything that could track them. When he was satisfied, he stepped back with a cold expression.

“Get to work,” He ordered.

“Excuse me?” Levi retorted.

“I said get to work,” Zy’s tone was gruffer now, but Levi still didn’t give in.

“No,” He crossed his arms, “I am not going to give him treatment after what he’s done.”

“I am not giving you a choice,” Zyren hissed, “Now help him recover or it is your life.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I miss the sudden moment where you two became saints? Do you honestly expect me to bow to your will when you both have slaughtered hundreds and affected thousands more, just because you deem it enjoyable?” Levi said, “I have watched innocent people die on my table to his hand and you believe that I am just going to help him?”

Zyren lifted his gun at him and loaded it, gritting his teeth. Yet he didn’t shoot. He was hesitating. He was desperate.

“You have ruined countless lives and killed my co-workers without mercy, Clyde is never going to be the same again just because you two selfish pricks wanted to escape to a new country!” He continued, his fists clenched as he walked up to the bed. If he was going to die here then he wasn’t going to go down without speaking his mind. “You, Flinar, deserve every ounce of pain that you are enduring right now! You can go ahead and cry because this is your karma for being a cruel, demonic little shit!”

“Enough!” Zyren roared, yet his finger still didn’t pull the trigger. He knew that Flinar wouldn’t survive if they waited any longer. Flin gazed up at Levi in pain, yet the doctor held no sympathy for him.

“Zy...” Flin begged, curling up on his side, “Please... please...”

“You are childish,” Levi stood up straight and frowned, “But my co-worker’s life is on the line, so I will stop his karma if you agree to my conditions.”

“I will not accept the conditions of a low-life old man who needs to learn to hold his tongue,” Zyren spat. “This is your final warning.”

“Go ahead and put a bullet in my head then,” Levi threatened him. “I suppose you and I both know that he’ll be dead in a few hours and from how long that car journey took, you are not going to find another doctor. But that is fine by me, he can meet me in Hell.”

Zyren growled and bared his teeth, yet he looked at Flinar with desperation and his hand shook. He let out a scowl.

“Name them.”

“I’ll give him treatment if you give me Clyde’s soul in return,” He turned to Kaito, who had the jar in his hand and promptly gave it to Zyren. “Completely unharmed. If I see a crack on its surface I will make you pay. You never hurt another person ever again and you put your fucking guns down and let me leave when this is done.”

Zyren didn’t look pleased but he was so desperate that he unloaded his gun and threw it aside. Levi was convinced that they were still going to hurt people the moment that he healed Flin but he would at least going to give it a try. At this point, he had accepted that they were probably going to have him killed sooner or later but he was too enraged to care.

“Fine,” Zy finally gave in, “You’ll get the fucking soul when you’ve done your job.”

“One more thing,” Levi said as Kaito cut the zip tie around his wrists, “You are going to let me do my job, if you stop me then he is going to die before dawn, do you understand me?”

Zyren walked up to him and loomed over him, his glare icy cold. “Sabotage him and I will put your head on a platter.”

“I am under an oath not to sabotage my patients’ recovery,” Levi leaned just as close, glaring back without fear, “I am not as cruel as you.”

Zy scowled and barged his shoulder against him, tossing a first aid kit on the bed, “Just help him.”

Levi made no further comment and took a fresh packet of sterilised gloves and a mask from his pocket, pulling them on and beginning to unravel the bandage.

“Stop squirming,” He told Flin, who was struggling in pain. Zy sat down and pulled him against his chest, holding his torso so he calmed down. He removed the bandage and took a pair of scissors from the first aid kit, cutting up his jeans to stop them from pressing into the swelling limb. He looked at it and inspected it closely. He pressed a swollen spot of skin that was a disgusting yellow colour and wrinkled his nose as pus dribbled out. “Just as I suspected, it is severely infected up to his knee.”

“What does that mean?” Zyren asked harshly as Flin tried to struggle further.

“It means he’s going to need further amputation or he’s going to get sick and die, that’s if the blood loss doesn’t get him first.”

“You are not going to take his leg.” He snarled, which only made Flin more panicked.

“I don’t have to, but it’ll be his life,” Levi shrugged, then rolled his eyes and took a serious tone, “Listen, I am not trying to cause him more pain but if you let it fester any longer then gangrene will consume his whole leg and eventually kill him - do you want that to happen?”

Zy frowned, then relented. “How long will it take?”

“An hour, including stitching and proper cleaning,” Levi said. “Do you have anaesthesia?”

“Yes.”

“No! No no no!” Flin cried, “Zy, stop him, stop him!!”

He tried to struggle as Zy picked him up, carefully elevating his leg as he walked downstairs. Kaito pushed Levi to follow once he had collected the first aid kit and had to listen to Flinar screaming the entire way down to the basement. He wouldn’t deny that he enjoyed hearing him get what he deserved, but he did want to stop his suffering. Even if Flin was a horrible person, no one deserved to endure pain like this.

The amputation passed smoothly. Zyren had set him down on a metallic table - which was no doubt used for torture in the past  - in the basement and injected him with a clean syringe of anaesthesia. He had stroked his hair apologetically the entire time he slipped under and watched Levi intently as he worked. He had to use a bone saw and any useful supplies he could find whilst the elf held an oxygen mask to his lover’s face.

Levi amputated to his knee and ensured that he had a safe and evenly cut stub which contained healthy tissues and no infection. He spent the next forty five minutes properly cleaning, sterilising and closing up the would and ensured it would not swell further. Kaito disposed of the infected leg when Levi had tied the last stitches, finally binding it in bandage soaked in antiseptic.

He let the elf tend to the demon once he was done and cleaned up before being sent upstairs by Kaito at gunpoint where he was locked in the van to sleep with simply a blanket to keep himself warm, a glass of water and a single carelessly made sandwich. Yet they still zip-tied his wrists together, but luckily they were at his front this time.

Levi was under their roof for three days, worked to the bone caring for a psychopath who had the pain tolerance of a sheltered child. He was given cold meals, three glasses of water a day and had to use the bathroom under supervision. He was not permitted near any windows nor was he allowed outside. His back was killing him as being on his feet all day and sleeping on metal flooring was the furthest thing from comfortable, and his chest pain had kicked in now that he didn’t have his medication. Yet he didn’t let anything break his confidence or attitude, making sure the three knew that their actions were wrong.

In return he was tossed one single cigarette by Zyren and Levi made sure to blow the smoke in his face. Their patience for one another was running thin and it was clear Zy wanted Levi gone one way or another.

Flinar was improving, now able to sleep peacefully and sit up with assistance, though he still begged for pain killers whenever he could. When Levi watched over him, he found his behaviour to be fascinating. He would talk to himself and move around in the bed when he hadn’t taken the medication for his schizophrenia yet. He would growl one minute then whimper the next, apologising over and over to “the crying doctor” that he stated would “cry and cry to him and wouldn’t stop”.

He didn’t make conversation with him nor try to prevent him from helping, but he did act particularly dramatic whenever Zyren was in the room and Levi soon learned that he was trying to get him killed, since it was known that Zyren would be merciless if anyone hurt his partner. None the less, the elf left him alone and even shushed his lover a few times, which Levi found amusing.

By the third evening, he was absolutely exhausted. He was leaning over the kitchen sink with his glass of water and was trying to repress the swelling pain he felt in his chest and back. He was so tired and he desperately needed a change of clothes and a good night’s sleep. He thought deeply of his actions and wondered if he had made the right ones.

He had promised himself that he would never put his life on the line for Clyde, insisting that he would save himself if he ever had to make a choice between them. Yet here he was, forcing on an attitude and healing the psychopath who tortured that same, sobbing doctor to try and save him. He no doubt regretted what he stated before but he didn’t think he could ever come to admit that. He held sympathy for him and was prepared to give him an easier time if they ever survived this, he just hoped he could have even a single day to redeem himself.

Levi sighed, praying that they would keep up their end of the deal but at this point, he was starting to lose hope. They were probably waiting until he broke under exhaustion to use him just like they used Clyde, but Levi knew that Lucas would never send out such a rescue party for him, not after what he’d done to his husband.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Kaito behind him, who had poured chloroform onto a rag.

“Zyren sends his thanks.” He said, making Levi jump as the rag was pressed harshly into his face.

.

I’m on such a writing surge that this chapter is no doubt rushed and messy as well. But not many people read this stuff so I don’t really care. It was fun to write though! The next part will be the last, so stay tuned!

See you soon. <3

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

12 Hours (Part Four)

Welcome.            Part One.            Part Two.          Part Three.

This story contains blood, murder and quite a bit of violent angst.

This particular part contains extreme injuries, death and violence. Be cautious when reading if you are sensitive.

.

The atmosphere had morphed from tension to urgency in a matter of seconds. The moment Lucas’ voice was heard over the speakers, everyone in the required teams stood up before their orders were even given. Their work was abandoned, a rush of orders and feet bolting down the stairs filled the lower floors with waves of emergency.

Tyrell, the general of Team One - the front lines - was tugging on his equipment with haste as his husband, Dan, did the same. The medical team ran past them as he was strapping on his belt, their hands full of required supplies they needed to treat Clyde when they found him. The facility had never experienced such level of frenzy before yet every staff member prepared as if it were rehearsed, each step playing out in a morbid sequence that they knew by heart.

Ty was a dark-skinned and muscular demon with long, thick brown hair tied back in a ponytail. The most prominent thing about him besides his size was the scar that overtook the right side of his face, a raw pink burn with a damaged eye that he struggled to see out of. Despite that, he was a family-orientated and loving man.

His freckle covered husband, Daniel, was significantly smaller with a pair of black feathery wings and a head of fluffy purple hair. The gun he was holding looked too big for him but there was an unmistakable expression of determination and anger on his features. 

Although Lucas had aggressively restricted them from entering his office or listening to the videos that Zyren had sent him, they knew for a fact that they were torturing Clyde. Dan was determined on rescuing his best friend, he didn’t care what it took.

The couple turn to each other once they had finished preparing and hugged, Ty cupping his cheek in his hand and kissing him lovingly. They never knew whether each mission would be their last and always ensured that they knew they loved one another.

Just as Dan kissed back, they were pulled apart and pushed through by Lucas, who had a dark and menacing expression on his broken face.

“Get moving,” He ordered coldly, loading his own gun before climbing into the passenger seat of a black 4x4. Tyrell glanced at Dan worriedly.

“That ain’t a good sign...” Ty said as they began jogging to their own vehicle.

“We just need to stay calm.” Dan replied, though he now looked nervous. Lucas was never this unstable - something was definitely severely wrong.

The team set out the moment they were in the car, barely having time to pull their seat belts on as Lucas had Nate - one of his drivers - speed off down the road.

“Lerman isn’t going to stick with our system,” Said Levi, who was sat next to Daniel and was not helping with his rising anxiety, “He is going to get himself or one of us killed with this recklessness - all because Jadestone wasn’t observant.”

“Levi, shut up,” Dan snapped, his hands sweating beneath his gloves, “It wasn’t his fault, can you show him sympathy for once? He’s probably been brutally tortured all day and you still tease him!”

Levi turned away without further comment, a frown furrowing on his aged features.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Ty said to him, kissing his hair reassuringly, “We’re going to make it out of this, alive, I promise.”

Dan clutched his hand, taking a deep breath. “I hope so.”

.

Flinar stepped back from the table, wiping his brow with his bloodied arm and grinning as he watched Clyde writhe in agony, his shredded voice barely able to scream as he stared at the bleeding stump that was now his left leg.

Zyren was looming over his head, visually recording the whole session to send to Lucas. He had reluctantly returned Clyde’s soul briefly to his body, so Flin could obtain the fear he wanted from the doctor. They had strapped him down to an old, rusted table and Flin had picked up a bone saw, mercilessly carving and tugging his leg from his body. He had toyed with it for a moment before tossing it aside, revelling in Clyde’s pain.

By now the doctor was dying. He had lost so much blood and was too dehydrated for his body to properly try and heal himself. It was three hours early, but he supposed that a broken promise wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world considering that his precious husband had allowed him to be tortured for this long.

“He’s not coming for you,” Flin told him, leaning close to his face as he sobbed with no tears and whimpered, “He’s let you suffer this long ‘cause he hates you and he’s gonna be so happy when you’re dead.”

“No..” Clyde wept, closing his eyes as his chest heaved, “Liebling...”

He didn’t even cry when Zyren plunged his hand into his chest, closing his fist around his fragile soul and pulling it from his body once again. He simply stared up at the ceiling and gawked like a fish out of water, his eyes soaking to a dull and lifeless grey as he slipped away.

“Are you happy now?” Zyren asked, dropping the soul into the jar once more, “This is the last session, he’s going to die if we do any more.”

“Good! His whining has been giving me a fucking headache,” Flin shoved at the Husk’s body and frowned when it didn’t react, “But at least I did what I wanted~ Thank you so much, baby.”

Zyren hummed, inspecting the stump of the Husk’s leg. “Being Husked slows the blood flow, he has another hour at most.”

“We should film it when he-” Flin’s suggestion was cut off by an explosion from above ground, followed by furious yelling and gunshots. Zyren cursed and snatched his gun.

“They’re here,”

“What!? How! I stopped him from texting for help!” Flinar exclaimed.

Zyren grunted and grabbed his arm, running up the stairs with him in tow and looking back at him as he shut the basement door. “Do not leave my side.”

“Zy-!”

The elf didn’t respond and instead tugged him towards safety.

.

With a press of a button, the explosive detonated in an instant and blew the entrance door off of its hinges. Lucas had separated his front line teams into quarters, stationing them in front of every possible entrance and sending them bursting into the building, flooding it with gunfire and seamlessly organised attacks despite the lack of preparation. 

With thirty five men attacking on the front lines, they easily got the upper hand on the twenty five guardsmen within the factory - yet that didn’t mean it was an easy execution. The sheer amount of machinery and conveyor belts provided great cover for both parties and made it exceedingly difficult to progress forward.

The medical team stayed far out of the firing line and waited for commands once the coast was clear whilst the others charged onward. Lucas was on a rampage, killing anything that wasn’t his own men without hesitation. He wanted that guard’s head. The guard who defiled Clyde was going to be torn apart at his hands, he was going to make him regret every second he abused his husband.

Tyrell was getting increasingly worried about his behaviour and struggled to cover him. He and Dan were tailing behind him, firing back against anyone trying to stop him from getting to the basement and were only just able to keep up. Dan ducked out of the way of a bullet that lodged into a machine behind him and he let out an overwhelmed heave of breath. Ty held his shoulder as they knelt for cover, trying to reassure him whilst attempting to not lose sight of Lucas. Yet it was too late.

“Shit, I’ve lost track of him!” He exclaimed, desperately scanning the area.

“We need to move forward, they’re changing positions and we’re gonna be out in the open!” Dan started to crouch run behind the safety of the conveyor belts, guiding Ty along and hiding behind machines whenever the bullets changed directions.

“Flinar and Zyren are located in the upper left corner of the building! I repeat, upper left corner!” Nate’s voice uttered through their earpieces, making Ty skilfully poke his head up to catch sight of the infamous couple only thirty yards away. Their exit was blocked off by the team but they were viciously fighting back. Flinar, to Zyren’s dismay, ran recklessly away from him in pursuit of something. Ty turned and his eyes widened, seeing Lucas in the midst of murdering a guard.

Lucas had recognised his voice from the recording, hearing him yell orders to three of his comrades. There was no doubt about it, he was certain that this was the man who violated his husband - that disgusting hiss in his tone every time he spoke made the rage boil. 

Though His first agenda was to rescue Clyde, he could do nothing to stop the violent outburst that suddenly consumed him. Without hesitation, he shot him in the knee the moment the other three men were out of range and leapt on him, tearing his weapon from his grasp and slamming his head into the ground.

“I KNEW YOU WERE THE ONE WHO HURT HIM! YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” He shrieked, “I’LL TEAR YOU APART!”

The guard, although he attempted to, could not escape from Lucas’ wrath  as he repeatedly beat, stabbed, shot and crushed his body in horrific ways, screaming all the while. The guard’s body was mangled beyond comprehension and a mess of horrifying wounds and injuries which Lucas knew would haunt him when this was over, but for now he could not care less. He growled in his face before throwing his dying body into the corner and loading his gun with a fresh magazine, which he promptly emptied into the guard’s skull and officially killed him.

Lucas lowered the gun, his breaths heavy and his mind foggy. Find Clyde, he told himself, I have to find Clyde.

Yet he was so overcome with shock that he didn’t realise that Flinar was running straight for him and was intent on stabbing his knife through his throat. He had ruined their chance to get away and live a new life! All because he was a coward!

By now the gunfire was beginning to cease slightly as the guardsmen were overpowered by the rescue team, but it was definitely not the end.

Tyrell was cursing continuously as he fumbled for a grenade at his hip, watching Flin vault over a conveyor belt with an angry grin on his face. His mind had no thoughts other than to stop Flin from killing his best friend and, with a deep breath, he pulled the pin.

The next moment was a blur.

He stood up and threw it directly into Flin’s path just as he leapt over another conveyor and noticed it at the very moment his feet touched the ground. His grin fell in an instant yet he had no time to respond and thus the grenade exploded at his left side, causing a pile of crates to collapse atop him and Lucas to be pushed back against the wall, knocking him from his trance.

“FLINAR!” Zyren shrieked as the explosive detonated, his glare snapping to Tyrell in an instant and in one single moment, raised his gun and set a bullet ripping straight through his chest. He began to run to his partner’s aid whilst Ty clutched his chest and collapsed backwards.

Dan stared in horror and tried desperately to catch him but it just resulted in the two of them falling together. He sat up and gasped, his stomach lurching when he saw a gaping hole through his husband’s chest and immediately pressed his hand into it to try and reduce the bleeding.

“Oh fuck! MEDIC!” He yelled, “Fuck, fuck fuck! Ty, stay with me!”

Ty stared at the wound in shock as blood trickled from his mouth, his head lolling against Dan’s knee as he stared up at his face. He breathed deeply, trying desperately to stay awake but something was already pulling him towards unconsciousness. 

“No no no no, baby...” Dan held his face with his free hand as he broke down into tears, “Look at me, just look at me! You’re alright, you’re gonna be alright...God please, stay with me!”

He looked into Dan’s eyes as he cried soundlessly at him and he took a choked breath, whispering his name as the pain set in, which made him groan. He started to gasp and tremble, lifting his hand again and clutching his with fear. It hurt.

“MEDIC!!” Dan screamed and finally someone responded, moving towards them as quickly as possible. Ty started to go limp, his eyes glazing over and his gaze drifting from him to the worn ceiling above, Dan moved his head to look at him again and he was just barely seeing him. “TY! Ty please! Don’t leave me!”

The last thing Tyrell saw was Eren running towards them and Dan’s face before his vision blurred.

.

Lucas was too emotional to realise what had happened to Tyrell and it was a good thing he didn’t, as knowing it was his fault would have destroyed him right then and there. 

Instead, he was trying to break the basement door open, yelling for Clyde and hoping for a response. When he couldn’t snap the lock off, he backed away and pulled out his shotgun, loading it and firing. With a burst of sparks and a metallic snap, the lock swung off and Lucas bolted inside; tripping down the stairs.

“Clyde!” He called, “Clyde, call out to me!”

He descended the steps and caught the shining glint of blood, his heart wrenching as he leapt down the rest of the steps. The basement was freezing, wet and reeked of blood, sweat and vomit. Yet under the flickering light bulb he saw his husband, bleeding and heavily wounded, his amputated leg thrown onto the floor.

Lucas nearly threw up, but he swallowed it down and ran up to him, shaking him pulling out his knife to cut the buckles. “Darling! Darling, I’m here!” He cried, “I’m here, you’re okay, I’ve got you!”

Clyde was in horrible shape. His body was bruised, beaten and broken and he only wore a pair of torn briefs - his hair was completely brown, signalling that he was severely dehydrated. Lucas cried as he lifted him from the table and collapsed on the ground with him. He was so, so cold... “Clyde, look at me,” He pleaded, cupping his face in his hand and looking over his body in panic. There was so much pain, so much blood... he couldn’t stop it. “Sweetheart, I’m here... It’s Lucas, you’re safe now, okay?”

The doctor didn’t respond, he just stared up at the light bulb as if it were daylight, his eyes a dull grey. He was breathing and wheezing yet he wouldn’t even look at him.

“Y-Your leg, they...they...” Lucas hurriedly shook off his coat, tearing off a strip and tying it around the stump to stop the bleeding whilst wrapping the rest of it around his freezing body, he pulled him closer and turned towards the door, “HELP!”

Lucas looked around. His leg, his smashed glasses, his clothes, a bloody tooth and ten fingernails... this was all his fault.

“Help, I-I’ve got to get you help,” He picked him up, “You just need medical help... you’re going to be alright, I promise you...y-you’re just dehydrated and hurt...”

Lucas rushed up the stairs and Clyde made a weak whimper, his gaze staying locked on the light bulb for as long as he could.

He didn’t know what was happening, whether the fight was over or who was hurt, all he could focus on was his poor husband. He was so cold and small in his arms, he should have protected him. He should have been better.

The rest of the medical team were ready for him the moment he ran outside and he had to force himself to let go, but he did not leave his side. Meanwhile Nate and Eren were carrying Tyrell out of the building and into the ambulance whilst a sobbing Dan ran behind.

By now the mission was over. The guardsmen were dead, tending to their wounded or had fled.

.

“Flinar!” Zyren shouted, vaulting over the conveyors and running into the drifting smoke. He looked around desperately and saw his lover’s arm beneath some rubble. He collapsed to his knees and tore the debris away, lifting a crate away and catching a view at Flin. He was lying on the ground, twitching in pain. Zyren’s gaze drifted downwards to his legs and his eyes shot wide open.

Flin’s lower left leg had been blown straight off, leaving behind a jagged wound with blood pooling around it. Zy stared in disbelief, lifting Flin into his arms and clinging to him.

Why did he ever agree to his silly little plan? He knew it would never work and yet he was a fool and played along anyway. Now he was staring at the consequences.

“Flinny,” He shook him, “Flinar!”

The wrath demon coughed and opened his eyes by a slither, his body trembling. “Zy...” He got out, “It hurts... I can’t feel my leg...”

“Don’t look,” Zyren told him, trying his best to cover his eyes but Flin peered over his arm, moving what was left of his leg and taking a hitched breath. “Flin-”

Flin stared in horror as the voices started to yell so loudly that he couldn’t think. Pain, pain, pain, pain! He let out a scream and arched his back, Zy struggling with him in his grasp and hugging him tightly as he gasped for breath. 

“Calm down, deep breaths-” The elf was trying to support him but he wouldn’t stop screaming in agony, his shaking hands tugging at his flannel. “Flin... baby...l-listen to me...”

Zy had never felt so useless. There was something in his chest that he could not explain, a burning sensation that made him want to scream. He couldn’t take away his pain and it was breaking him from the inside.

Zyren blinked the wetness from his eyes and took off his flannel, going to tear it up as bandage but his partner clung to it desperately. His ears twitched and he pulled it around him, finally letting him wear it. Flin stopped screaming and stared at him with tears flooding his eyes whilst Zy removed his shirt and used that as bandage instead. He sobbed like a child as he bound up his leg and hugged his chest with shaking arms whilst he blabbered and coughed in pain. Zy shushed him and told him to calm down as he tied the knot, cupping his cheek in his hand and wiping away his tears.

This would not do, he needed to get Flin proper care.

Yet the moment he brought Flin to any hospital in the country or even worse, beg for help from the faculty, they would probably be killed on sight.

Kaito ran towards them, seeing Flin clinging to Zy’s chest. “Holy shit, what the hell happened?”

“Get him a doctor.”

“What the fuck do you mean, a doctor? Zy, no doctor is gonna wanna treat him!”

“Get him a doctor, Kaito!” Zy exclaimed, picking him up in his arms.

“How?!”

“I do not care how, just do it!”

“Fine.”

.

Levi knew what he saw when he was stabilising Clyde in the ambulance. The grey eyes, the lack of pain or basic response to light or voices. He was a Husk. Of course they would steal something so important, they wouldn’t let Clyde recover normally - not that he could. 

Lucas was still in a state of denial, insisting that he needed a heated blanket and water to return the colour to his eyes and the warmth in his chest. Levi didn’t blame him, he was grieving and the others were not denying since they were too preoccupied with Clyde’s countless other injuries.

Levi slipped out of the ambulance at the last second before the doors were shut and they sped away. He didn’t care if he had to walk six hours back home, he was not going to let those psychopaths steal Clyde’s soul. They could murder him in a heartbeat.

The building was suddenly silent, besides the wounded chatter of the guardsmen still alive. The rescue teams were completely gone now, leaving as if it never happened. Yet there was so much blood that said otherwise.

Levi had his gun loaded in case any of the guardsmen tried to fire at him and simply walked in. The building seemed so much smaller now that it wasn’t being used as a firing range and the basement door was in his line of sight. He adjusted his glasses and walked down, stepping over a dead body and glancing at the group of wounded men in the corner. They were watching him pass, but they were too preoccupied and defeated to care.

He stepped over the pool of Tyrell’s blood and sighed, having to focus his eyes forward and also ignore the mangled body in the corner that Lucas no doubt got to first. He pushed open the door and tried flipping a light switch yet it only managed to turn the single light source further down on and off again. He descended the stairs using a small flashlight attached to his keys and looked around at the basement, spotting old sacks used to store all of the cotton the factory produced and old machinery pieces. 

He gazed at the rusted table, the broken chair, blood and torture weapons and had to swallow down his horror, especially at the sight of Clyde’s leg. It reeked of almost every kind of bodily fluid and it was absolutely freezing. Levi groaned in disgust and began searching. Surely they must of left his soul behind in the mess...

He looked around as thoroughly as he could and did consider taking Clyde’s leg with him for possible replantation but it was in such bad shape that he was doubtful that they could even fuse the bone back together. Not to mention that carrying a bloodied leg through the city for six hours would not look good for his public image.

Levi turned around and his flashlight eventually caught sight of something silver gleaming within the pools of blood, so he begrudgingly knelt down and picked it up, discovering it to be Clyde’s wedding ring. It - arguably - wasn’t his soul, but he supposed it would be good to bring back, so he wiped it off and put it in his pocket with a deep sigh.

Levi turned his flashlight again and finally caught sight of the shimmering surface of a fragile soul trapped within a jar. It was set under the desk and he hurried to go retrieve it, only to feel something cold press into the back of his head.

He froze up and eventually raised his arms with a deep sigh.

“Are you going to shoot me or not?” He asked nonchalantly.

“Depends, are you a doctor?” A hard voice asked aggressively, loading the gun.

“Yes, I am.”

“Then you’re coming with me,” He ordered, “Drop your gun or I’ll put a bullet through your head.”

“I suppose I am not going to get an explanation, am I?” He huffed, yet hurried along when he felt the gun’s barrel be pushed irritably against his skull, “Alright, give me a second.”

Levi reached beneath his coat, dropping his gun and huffed once more when the man patted him down to ensure he hadn’t got an extra weapon.

“May I at least pick up that jar?” Levi asked, supposing that if this man needed a doctor so badly that he was going to kidnap a faculty one, that it was highly unlikely he was going to shoot. He did, however, tug Levi’s hands behind his back and zip-tie them before pulling one of the cotton sacks over his head. “I guess not.”

Levi did briefly sigh with relief when he heard the man pick the jar up and put it away, before swinging the doctor over his shoulder and carrying him away.

.

This has been in my drafts for a long while and I suddenly wanted to continue it. This was quite rushed so please excuse any mistakes, I will try to get round and fix them!

Flinar did get his karma for his actions and now it seems Levi is going to be a part of it. I love writing Levi, might I add, he has no fear when it comes to situations like these.

Hopefully I can write the next part soon. Sorry for all of the angst!

See you soon. <3

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

12 Hours (Part Three)

Welcome.            Part One.            Part Two.

This story contains blood, murder and quite a bit of violent angst.

This particular part contains torture and blood. Be cautious when reading if you are sensitive.

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He had tried calling for help but it was fruitless and now all he could do was listen to the dripping pipes as he shivered from the cold and the fear.

At this moment his eyes are fixed on the bottom step of the staircase, his mind drifting into daydreams picturing his escape. He is praying that any second a miracle will occur - that the rope will fray or Lucas will come running to the rescue but it remains silent. Clyde’s mind has focused on his breathing, he knows that keeping calm is the one thing he can do in this situation because he must save his energy. His breaths escape like clouds due to the freezing temperature and disappear into the air shortly afterwards, reminding him to keep the rhythm of his heartbeat steady to remain warm.

The sound of the door unlocking throws that rhythm out his head and his breath hitches.

Clyde lifts his head as he grips the arms of the wooden chair and stares up at the door as light pours in, making his eyes strain to adjust. A giggle echoes down the stairs and makes a shiver rip down his spine as Flinar descends the staircase with Zyren close behind.

“Your first hour’s up, doc,” Flin says, jumping from the last four steps and landing an inch from Clyde’s face, “How’re you feeling?!”

He cries in fear, his words muffled by the gag which just makes the psycho laugh even more. “That’s great to hear, I’m happy you’re enjoying yourself!”

 Zyren steps into the darkness and wheels a tool cart - which Clyde previously thought was a desk - under the single lightbulb with a cold expression. In his hand is a phone with an audio recorder opened. The doctor almost faints when he views the cart. Upon it are tools ranging from hammers to plier, nails, screwdrivers and various sized coping saws hung on the sides. Knives, scalpels and long screws were organised in size order on the second row whilst on the third, there are brass knuckles, a taser and many other nightmarish tools that sicken him. All of the devices of torture are polished, sharpened and organised by insane hands.

Clyde stares at the tools, whimpering as his gaze travels up to meet Zyren’s. He holds eye contact perfectly with no emotion, his hand lifting off the cart where Flinar then leaps at it and starts ravenously observing each one with insane laughter. Clyde starts to struggle again, desperately trying to escape but the rope only starts to tear into his flesh and tears spill down his cheeks.

“What’re you thinking, Zy?” Flin asks, giggling, “Beat him up? Gouge his eyes out!?”

Zyren doesn’t respond, only pulls a cigarette from his pack and lights it as he observes his nails as if he’s bored. Flinar watches him do this and grins widely. “Oh...good idea...” He snatches a pair of pliers from the cart and turns back to Clyde with a flurry. “How ‘bout a manicure?”

The doctor’s eyes go wide with horror and he screams, struggling so much that the chair starts to jolt and the rope trapping him splits his skin. The moment he sees him come closer, Clyde balls his hands into fists and tries to kick his legs desperately.

“That’s no fun!!” Flin tries to pry his hand open but it doesn’t work and he pouts, “If you don’t show your fingers I’ll chop your whole hand off!” He threatens.

Clyde weeps in terror, shaking his head desperately as if these monsters are capable of feeling empathy. The demon growls, his spiked tail swishing in agitation as he snatches a tool that looks to be a vector corkscrew and without giving him another chance he stabs it into his left hand and starts twisting it. 

He screams in pain, throwing his head back as the metal coils grind into his flesh and through his hand. Clyde’s fist opens in defeat yet the maniac doesn’t relent and twists the corkscrew deeper until it stabs through his palm and into the chair. Pain begins to tear up his nerves and blood starts to trickle between his fingers as he whimpers and sobs. 

“I didn’t have to do that, idiot, stop sobbing!” Flin snarls, irritated but still horrifically overjoyed as he picks up the pliers. Zyren blows out the smoke of his cigarette and turns on the audio recover, tugging the gag from Clyde’s mouth. “Alright, let’s get started then!”

“Please! Let me go!” Clyde begs through his cries, his voice full of fear as he then starts to speak in German.

“Can’t. Ya husband isn’t giving us what we want,” Flinar winks and inspects his nails, “You have such nice nails...you clearly get them done a lot, don't ya? Rich prick! Oh, I’m sure you know a lot about how the nerve ends are attached to your nails.”

He clicks the pliers playfully before holding down his index finger and clamping them around the quick of his nail. “I wonder how much it takes to tug it off in one go...” Flinar looks back up at Clyde’s terrified face with a giggle. He doesn’t say anything else, letting the audio pick up the doctor’s terrified noises.

“No.. no please don’t...” He pleads as he tries to struggle but he cannot move his hand. Flinar doesn’t give him another moment and tugs mercilessly. The small sound of flesh being torn is drowned out by Clyde’s shriek as the fingernail breaks off from the veins which spurt blood and burn with pain as the nerve end is broken. He holds it in front of Clyde and giggles maniacally but the doctor is still screaming and struggling desperately. Sweat has beaded on his forehead and his breathing is out of control, the colour has drained from his face and he is crying for help.

Flin moves on to the second nail and tugs it free, yet it was caught and ends up snapping and sticking upwards which just makes the doctor grit his teeth and wail. “Ugh, dammit...” He mutters, grabbing the jagged end of the nail and frowning in frustration. It takes another tug and the rest of the nail pulls away with a tiny spot of skin to join it. “Ooo, bonus points.”

This goes on until all of Clyde’s fingernails have been removed and the doctor is left doubled up sobbing and begging for Lucas to save him yet Zyren only holds the phone closer to pick up more sound.

“Lucas...h-help me...please...” He got out through his sobs, his body shaking with pain. 

Zyren looks satisfied with the ordeal and promptly stops the recording, filing it and sending it off to Lucas.

Clyde then lifts his head to see the elf set an alarm on his personal phone for another hour and left it on the desk, wheeling it far away from the doctor. After that, he picks up the rope and ties it tightly around Clyde’s mouth, gagging him again and looking amused at the sight. Zy puts his arm around Flin and mumbles something to him as they walk up the stairs and leave him locked in the cold, the corkscrew still twisted through his hand. He looked down at his bleeding fingers and his fingernails lined up on the ground in front of him. His breath escaped in foggy wisps.

.

Lucas listened to the audio recording sent by an untrackable number and by the end of it he was in shambles. His teeth were gritted and his claws had scraped into the fine wood of his desk with anguish, his stomach twisted in a knot. The love of his life was being tortured horrifically and it was his fault. He was letting this happen. All it would take is just one wipeout of Flinar and Zyren’s records then Clyde would be back in his arms... but he couldn’t. It was tearing him to pieces having to resist it.

Those last four words his husband uttered before the recording ended were going to haunt him no matter if Clyde was back with him. He knew how strong the doctor was but he also knew how terrified he can be. He works well under pressure but the moment he’s in danger or he’s isolated or being hurt is the moment he breaks down in panic. The first time he officially joined the mafia he had a month’s worth of therapy to come to terms with the fact he saw one of his co-workers be shot in the head. Lucas couldn’t imagine the mental trauma this is causing him...

It is all his fault... He should’ve never of allowed Clyde out of his sight. He felt to blame. Because before he was taken he had entered Lucas’ office seeking to talk to him about his medical records but he was in the middle of a phone call. “Could you come back in an hour, my darling?” He had requested with a loving smile, “I’m just working on more efficient transport.” 

He should’ve hung up that damn phone and kept Clyde from cleaning the medical office so he didn’t take that damn flowerpot outside!

Lucas leaned over the paging microphone, set the location to Austin’s office and pressed his finger into the button. He shakily asked how the decrypting was coming along but Austin replied negatively, saying there was no progress so far. The leader sent his brother the audio file, telling him not to listen to it but to try tracking that instead.

Each hour passed by like they were mocking him and every time, without fail, there was another audio file. Six more hours crept by.

On the second hour, Flinar strangled him with his bare hands until Lucas could hear him on the brink of suffocation.

On the third hour, Zyren beat him mercilessly using his fists, a crowbar and brass knuckles for five minutes. The sound of Clyde spitting out a tooth knocked him sick.

On the fourth, they tied a shock collar around his neck and shocked him five times. Flinar was in fits of laughter by the end, mocking Clyde for “being so weak over a few shocks” but Lucas could hear him struggling to breathe.

On the fifth, Zyren lit a fire on a torch and held it right near Clyde, knowing full well that he - as he was a water element - was incredibly sensitive to fire so it burned him worse than it would to an average person and could’ve been fatal.

On the sixth hour... they let one of the men working with them have their way on Clyde. For half an hour. Lucas broke down into sobs hearing it, hearing his lover have a panic attack and try to escape.

He listened to his soulmate be defiled. He felt the safety of their marriage was violated, he couldn’t get the sounds or the thoughts out of his head. Lucas had flinched at every new message, breaking down further. He wanted to drown away that pain with whiskey however he knew he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. When Austin gave the location, he would head straight there and tear them all apart.

Lucas’ hand hovered over the button on his laptop that would wipe out Zyren and Flinar’s records, gritting his teeth and heaving air in and out in distress. His hand shook violently but he couldn’t bring himself to press it. He couldn’t do it.

A sudden surge of rage struck him and he lost control, picking up the laptop and throwing it into the wall, watching it shatter to pieces. The anger and turmoil took over and he started to shriek in grief. Lucas swiped everything off of his desk, overturned the sofa and tore books from their shelves, kicking the bookshelf to pieces and crushing a statue under his foot. He tugged down the drapes and ripped the cushions to shreds, throwing all of the whiskey glasses into the door so tiny pieces of them sprinkled everywhere.

There was a flurry of papers, files and documents flying through the air at that moment. He turned around and punched the wall until there was a gaping hole and his knuckles bled before the rage soaked away. The demon looked around at his destroyed office and took in a breath, stumbling as he picked up a few things. The paging microphone, his mobile phone - which was now cracked - and a photo of Clyde. He set the phone on his desk, plugged in his microphone and collapsed in his chair with the photo frame hugged to his chest. 

Lucas’ lilac eyes were brimming with tears as he looked into the photo’s happy face. He couldn’t help but rest his fingers on his rosy cheek and trace it gently as if he were really there. Two tears drip onto the frame. Lucas tried to escape into that memory, that warm summer evening he took the photo at a picnic on the beach where minutes later Clyde fed him sweet berries. He tried to escape. But he stayed trapped in reality.

.

Clyde had broken. His entire body was aching with wounds and violation, his voice hoarse from screaming and his legs numb. He felt freezing cold and sick, stripped to his briefs from the guard’s lazy attempts to return him back to the way he was.

He was scared and upset, sobbing with anguish and trauma. Out of all the torture he’s endured throughout these hours none were as wicked as the last one. There was nothing else worse to him. Clyde couldn’t get the pain or memories from his mind; the feeling of that guard’s hands on his body singed into his flesh. Every part of his body felt disgusting. His neck and hips were covered in revolting marks, his hair messy from being tugged, his lips burning from forced kisses and his lower half violated.

When they left him alone in this dark room he raised his head, gazing upon the phone left on the desk counting down with a timer. That phone was different from the one Zyren used to send the audio. It was his personal phone. It was set upon the tool desk from the dark elf’s complacency and over each hour that the alarm went off, he unlocked his phone and turned it off.

Each time, Clyde watched closely at his fingers sporadically tapping the numbers and slowly memorised his password over the six hours. It took subtle staring and by the second hour, Zy had grown lazy from confidence and knew that the doctor could not escape.

However, that was until the guard was assigned with tying him up again.

The guard, as disgusting as he was, was incredibly careless when it came to him tying up Clyde and - to his benefit - did not bother to hold him down when he struggled and thus one wrist was tied loosely.

The password was 02101996 and he had repeated it religiously whenever the pain settled down enough so he could think. It was a birthday - Flinar’s birthday - and he knew that for definite because it was on his criminal records.

The doctor struggled his arm and gritted his teeth, his aching body pulsing with agony at the slightest movement. His right wrist, sore and battered, was shifting loosely with the rope as he searched for a solution. Fraying and sawing was not an option; especially with the chair edges being blunt. Dragging the rope off of the chair arm was also not an option as the arm’s width expanded so the rope could not pass. Clyde was left with only one option.

It was so painful with all of the aches in his body yet he was so determined. This was his only chance to get help. This was his only chance to break their cycle and go home again to see his family. He thought of his children, his parents and Lucas, trying to force himself to carry on.

He tugged his arm back continuously to either snap the rope or pull his arm free and to his relief, the rope just about gave him enough room to do so. Forty minutes dragged by and his skin was torn and split from tugging and struggling. He was thankful that it was not his left hand as the plan would’ve most definitely had been too painful to execute due to the now scabbed and raw corkscrew wound through his hand. 

Time was creeping by and he grew ever more frantic, his sense of reality distorted and forgotten. His heart was hammering for the countless time and sweat layered his brow and body; whether from his frenzy or sickness, he could not tell. Every noise made him flinch violently, believing that the slightest creak in the pipes was actually the door swinging open and Flin would come dashing through with more sadistic ideas.

Flinar and Zyren would return any minute and he would lose his chance. With cries of desperation and pain, Clyde gave his last exhausted tugs and with a jolt, his arm flew free and gave a pulse of aching to express it.

Instantly, the doctor grabbed at his left wrist and started to wrench at it yet having no fingernails made the job harder in ways he could not describe. His stomach was churning and he felt his heart in his mouth as he pulled the rope from the buckle and slid his left arm free.

He dared not triumph nor smile, his mind focused only on the potential punishment he’d face if they caught him attempting to escape. The thought terrified him and he even considered tying himself up again to prevent this from happening. He could not handle another session, his mind was teetering on the edge of breaking his body was in so much pain that he’d forgotten what normality felt like.

After nearly fifteen minutes of struggling, Clyde kicked his left leg free and was now even more panicked. Adrenaline was coursing through him painfully and there was nothing that could calm him down. With tugs and desperate pleas, the climbing rope fell away from his right ankle and he collapsed forward onto the freezing ground, whimpering.

Clyde breathed heavily and opened his eyes, finally comprehending that he could not properly see because his glasses were smashed hours ago. Blurs of grey and red were all he could see. His body shook violently as he heaved himself up onto all fours, coughing up blood and spotting his lost tooth by the step. 

He knew better than to try and escape. There were definitely guards up above that would all spot him in an instant but that was if he could even make it upstairs. Clyde pulled himself up onto his feet and swayed, doubling up and groaning.

Despite the trauma that would permanently haunt him from that guard, there was one glimmer of hope that he gave to him. After the rapist was satisfied and was forcefully pulling Clyde’s briefs back up, the doctor quietly pleaded to know where he was. At that moment he was pathetic and helpless, curled up and hugging himself on the cold ground with tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn’t know why he wanted to know but he did, at the time he had no hope. He didn’t know if that guard pitied him or wanted to “return” the favour for that session but he told him quietly.

“The abandoned cotton factory. Now shut up.”

With as much haste as he could muster, the doctor staggered the desk and practically collapsed upon it, snatching the phone in his violently shaking hand and switching it on. There was a picture of Flinar as Zyren’s background, he looked normal and was cuddled up on the sofa with blankets and a mug of hot chocolate. It was so innocent, but Clyde felt sick to the stomach. He knew what that grinning monster was capable of.

He opened the screen and the keypad appeared. Having to focus intensely, he entered each number with precision and wiped away the blood from the reopened cuts on his fingers. As the phone unlocked, the latch on the door rattled and he could hear Flinar giggling. Clyde’s heart almost burst from panic and he was near hyperventilating as he frantically swiped through the many menacing-looking apps.

He could hear Flinar asking for the door key as he found the messages tucked away in the third slide. Clyde didn’t have time to call Lucas like he had planned and the most he could do was text him. The door swung open as he frantically typed out Lucas’ phone number in a new contact, refusing to mistype a single number despite his trembling hand. His breathing hitched and his feet shuffled with panic, his brain begging for enough time to succeed.

Flinar was yelling something but he couldn’t comprehend what he said as he desperately entered the contact and typed out what he could. The maniac was running down the stairs and he had spotted him like a wolf on newfound prey, a wolf-like smile widening on his face. Flin vaulted over the bannister as the phone alarm went off and Clyde started crying in terror, staggering to get away so he could send the text that would save his life.

Clyde just barely typed out “cottn factor” before he felt Flinar grab him with a hysteric laugh. He screamed and tried to struggle, attempting to press send but to his dismay the phone was snatched from his hand and thrown into the wall, smashing into little pieces.

Flin tackled him to the ground, seizing his throat and strangling him again as he smacked Clyde’s head into the hard ground repeatedly. “You think you can escape, huh!?” He stared into his eyes with his own wide, manic ones and laughed. His tail coils around the handle of the tool desk which he then tugged down so the tools went scattering in all directions. “You think we’re stupid?!”

The psycho grabbed something whilst his other hand throttled Clyde and held it up, revealing it to be a hammer. Without a second of hesitation, he brought the hammer down onto Clyde’s knee with such an inhumane amount of force that his kneecap shattered. 

The doctor wailed in agony and arched his back, his legs jerking outwards. Zyren jogged downstairs to witness the situation.

“You want the other one smashed, huh?!” Flinar squeezed his throat and pulled Clyde up slightly as he grappled his wrist through sobs.

“No, no!” He begged, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, no more!”

“Flinar,” Zyren called out, making the maniac look up at his partner, “Enough.”

Without another comment, he backed away from Clyde, leaving him to roll onto his side and wail in pain.

“He was about to text that stupid leader where we were!” Flin pointed at him like a tattling child, “He made me break your phone, Zy!”

“I said enough,”

There was nothing in Zyren’s voice; it was just as cold and emotionless as ever. Still, Flinar went silent and burned with what can only be in embarrassment. The dark elf walked forwards and picked the crying doctor up by the neck, his eyes menacing.

“Did you honestly think that would work?” Zyren asked coldly and Clyde shook his head in fear, “I see here that the little doctor believes he is smarter than us. I think a lesson must be taught.”

“Let’s cut off his leg!” Flin suggested with excitement, “That’ll stop him from getting away!”

“We can on the next hour,” Zyren concluded and Clyde tried to scream in protest, “For now... I believe that lashes should be a suitable punishment.”

Flinar burst into fits of excited laughter, bouncing around like a puppy as Zyren shackled Clyde’s wrists together and walked behind the staircase with him in tow where a hook had been drilled into the ceiling. Like a slab of meat, the doctor was strung up on the hook with his feet inches from the ground.

His head hung limply, in too much pain to struggle whilst Zyren picks up a metal rod. “Speak a word of our location and the next thing we amputate will be your eyes,” The dark elf handed the audio recorder to Flinar.

“You’ll let me have a turn though, right?” Flin pleaded with a pout.

“As long as you record correctly,”

“Okay~!”

Flinar began recording with his terrifying shark-like grin and giggling as seconds later the first lash strikes Clyde’s bruised back. The doctor cried behind his teeth yet swallowed the rest of the pain with a whimper, his back arched and his hands shaking. He wasn’t going to give them any more satisfaction. The second lash tore into his stomach and he doubled up, whimpering again but forcing down his cries.

Zyren’s face flickered with agitation and the lashes only become more heartless. Clyde glanced at him to see him frowning due to his reluctance to scream. Despite all of the pain they inflict upon him, nothing was worse than the sixth hour. His entire body pulsed with agony yet nothing could compare to the pain of being raped.

The sound of the metal slashing against his skin snapped at his ears and the overwhelming pain caused him to cry soundlessly, the hot feeling of fresh blood seeping from open gashes. Clyde tried to escape reality by thinking of Lucas and their children. He thought of their smiles and their laughs, the mornings he’d wake up to a quiet household so he could cook them breakfast. As the tenth lash struck against his spine, he felt a sudden pain and his body lurched as the feeling below his waist dissolved.

The pain was gone but so was the feeling, leaving him heavy and numb as he broke into a panic. Clyde tried to struggle, letting out another sob.

“L-Lucas!” He cried, “I-I’m in..t-the c-!”

Clyde couldn’t finish. 

Zyren’s hand plunged into Clyde’s chest using a type of dark magic known as Soul Reaping; a spell that allowed the user to remove a being’s soul without wounding their body. The doctor gasped and his eyes went wide, unable to move as the dark elf closed his fist around the form of his soul and tore it from his chest. As Zy retracted his hand, Clyde went deathly pale and limp, the colour draining from his eyes. In his last moments, he thought of his family as a tear trailed down his cheek. The edge of his husband’s name was whispered before he was reduced to nothing but a Husk. An empty shell of a person who feels nothing until their soul is returned.

Zyren stepped back, holding the soft mint orb in his grey hand and frowning. Wisps of misty blue trailed from its surface and it flickered with fear.

Flinar had stopped recording the moment Zyren reaped his soul and sent it to Lucas accordingly, pouting with sass. “You said I could have a turn! It’s no fun when he’s a Husk!”

“I will return his soul,”

“When!?”

“Before the next hour so you may amputate his leg,” Zyren turned around and found an old jar, dropping the floating soul inside and screwing the lid on before he stuffed it in his bag. “Do not whine.”

Flinar groaned, slumping his shoulders as he stared at the rasping Husk drenched in blood.

Monster.

You’re a monster, The voices hissed, A psychopath. A stupid, stupid puny psychopath.

Stupid. Stupid. Pointless and stupid.

Flin gripped his hair and gasped for breath.

You took your medication.

You’re going to hell.

Stupid. Stupid.

He’s an innocent little lamb. You tortured him.

Stab yourself. Do it.

Where’s your knife?

Zyren’s arms were around him and his fingers were stroking his head soundlessly. Flin closed his eyes and whimpered, his arms wrapping around his back. He shivered and let the voices fade away, vanquished by his partner. His fingers closed around the fabric of his flannel as he nuzzled his head into his shirt, breathing in his comforting smell of fabric softener, cigarettes and cologne.

When he saw he was calm again, the dark elf pulled away and set about returning the Husk back to its chair. Flin quietly reached for him and gulped, a twinge of guilt flickering in his own soul.

You’re a monster.

.

The seventh hour struck on the cracked clock and Lucas nearly hyperventilated. The video was late and he paced around his destroyed office waiting for it. Waiting for something. Anything.

The night outside was cold and the skyscrapers outside glowed with smudged iridescence with the dribbling raindrops cascading down his floor-to-ceiling windows.

When the buzz of his phone finally reached his ears, his stomach twisted itself yet he couldn’t help but stumble up to it. It was another audio file but it was shorter than the others. The familiar sense of dread washed over him as he listened, flinching at the sound of inhumane whipping wounding his husband.

Lucas doubled up because he could hear Clyde trying to hold back. He was using every ounce of his energy not to scream and it was only making what could only be Zyren angrier. His eyes widened when his husband spoke, crying out something before being cut off by his own gasp. It sounded like he’d been impaled. The audio ended with Lucas lost for any kind of reaction.

He only stared at the audio bars as his hand started trembling, the phone falling out of his hands as he let out a shriek. Lucas collapsed onto his knees and clutched his head, screaming his lungs out with grief.

He screamed until his throat was sore and the tears were blinding him. Lucas heaved air in and out of his lungs in a desperate attempt to regain control but it was useless. His mind was torn apart by countless emotions that he did not want to resist. The rage, grief and sorrow were swelling in his body like a mutating storm, loud and unpredictable. After a minute he could not muster another scream, the thoughts in his head buzzing with such commotion that he could not focus.

The paging microphone was the only thing that snapped him out of the whirlwind of his breakdown. Struggling to breathe, the mafia leader staggered to his feet and collapsed in his chair once more as he pressed the flashing button. It was from Austin.

“What is it, Austin?” Lucas was doubled up at his desk with exhaustion.

“I’ve got the location!” Austin exclaims in a frenzy, “I tracked their vehicle and reversed the sender’s-”

“Where is he!?” Lucas couldn’t control himself anymore.

“He’s in the old cotton factory seven miles east of the city-” He paused to tap away on his laptop- “I analysed the building from my drone and there are twenty-seven heat signatures including those maniacs’. I think they’re keeping him in the basement!”

That was all Lucas needed to hear. Unable to feel any more remorse, he cut Austin off and spoke over the microphone to the entire facility.

“The location has been breached,” He held no emotion in his voice besides rage, “Team One in all departments must report to their vehicles immediately! We depart in ten minutes!”

Lucas closed the order off and stood up, his face dark and full of menacing intentions. As he stood, his chair went flying back and he shoved his desk to one side, fuming with anger.

He would make every single one of them pay.

.

Oof, this was a long time coming!

Clyde really suffered here so I hope I wrote it out well enough. This was still fun to write despite the angst!

Stay tuned for the next part because that’s when shit goes down. ;)

See you later! <3

Part Four

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

Before His Mind Broke.

This story explores the pasts and significances in the two Tyrells. They are formed from the same entity yet from two different forms. Yang sided Tyrell (Ponytail) belongs to my own universe. Yin Ty (Cloak) is a part of the Our Demons Universe which belongs completely to @forthecrownanimation

This story will contain sensitive topics regarding sexuality, medieval religion, PTSD and violence. Please be cautious if these topics bother you! Please Enjoy!

Word Count Total:  10,978. Very long boi.

Yang - 4,880 words. Yin - 6,049

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From one, burning entity they were created. From a void of grey formed two lights, one burning in black whilst the other flamed in white. Both had a penny-sized spec of the opposite entity within them, sealing them together no matter the circumstance. An entity that spun through creation as if weaving a tapestry, in harmony. It was powerful together; strong, diplomatic, focused and confident. Together they spun elements of earth, energy and fire however despite that power; both remained amoral. The entity had no aim, no purpose nor destination yet it had not a mind to think from.

Then, unexplainedly, they broke apart. 

Whilst Yang stayed focused on the path ahead, the future and the possibilities, Yin trailed from that same path whether out of fear or lack of knowledge it was unknown. They both took what was assigned to them as if hoarding from the other’s grasp, then escaped without a second glance. Yin tumbled into another timeline and yet it fitted there perfectly as if it were destined, it formed its own story that wove into its counterpart’s at different a different pace.

As two timelines formed, two entities did as well. They were the same yet cold opposites. Their stories briefly met, separated, then intertwined once more for one event before separating again. They would never cross paths. Not from a world of reality, at least.

They formed the same name, the same families and the same trauma. However, their ways of coping were entirely different. 

.

Yang.

Tyrell was born under a new moon yet being assigned underground in the dusty lane of the Sandstone Street meant he could not see it. He was born a Pride Low Blood; the top of inferiority from the start. He was born into a realm of demons known as the Underworld, where the role given to at birth would forever determine your life. He was a small baby that did not take his first breath for two minutes after being delivered and he never would have if not thanks to his father, Alatar. 

His father was determined, as always, and would not give up his newborn child to death's cold grasp before he even opened his eyes. He held him and rubbed his chest whilst healing mana flowed through his fingers then finally, his child took his first breath and let out shrilling cries that were music to his parents' ears.

Alatar cleaned him with warm water and bundled him in a blanket, cradling him with his mother, Roxy. Once the midwife helped Roxy freshen up, she let Arielle - Ty's older sister - come bolting into the room to see her new baby brother. She craned over Al to catch a peek and looked awed to see a tiny demon swaddled in a woollen blanket.

Tyrell grew up with a warm bed and a full belly, loving parents and a happy smile, something any child would want. They didn't live in a big house but it was clean, warm and friendly with a tidy street. He didn't have as many toys as some of the Gluttonies his age but he didn't mind, he savoured imagination over a porcelain doll coiled in frills. Ty was adventurous and playful yet on the street he was so used to being called "Low Blood" that the term barely stuck in his head. The other children would ignore his name and refer to him by that instead. He often came home from the street with a black eye or a bloody nose from the older Superiors catching him.

His mother worked as a spinner and a seamstress at a nearby tailor. There she would spend hours sitting at a spinning wheel or washing and mending old clothes. Being a female Low Blood meant that her pay was cut in half compared to her Superior co-worker - who was already paid less than any male co-worker. Roxy would come home with aches in her back and her fingers rubbed raw yet she would still light up seeing her two children and her husband. Tyrell doesn’t remember a day where she didn’t have bandages around her hands. However, at first, there wasn’t a day where she wasn’t smiling either.

His father was strong and hard-working, always laughing and playing games with them, not afraid to make a mess. He lived by the kindest mentality despite his daily struggles. He worked as a delivery man in the mines, carrying lumber, ore and coal to where it was needed. It was exhausting work for him. Unlike the Superiors, he wasn’t granted a horse and wagon and instead had to carry it on his back or in an old, rickety cart. When he got home he and his wife would force out their exhaustion to spend time with their children.

A few times a month, Alatar would come home with coins for Tyrell. They weren’t anything fancy nor could they buy anything with them. They were merely hunters’ tokens or old rune-etched discs for games or mediums, useless to an adult but Ty adored them. Alatar would buy them from a small stall in the market when he had money to spare or rarely find them on the ground. 

When he did, he would slide them over the table at dinner to let his toddling child gasp and rush off to collect them in an unused honey jar. He used them to play make-shift draughts and chess upon Roxy’s old, cracked chopping board with squares drawn in with chalk. Ty’s favourite was the gold coin etched with a bust of a dragon. He always made it the king.

Alatar always let Arielle braid ribbons into his ebony black hair and massacre his old tunics so she could make dresses for her doll. He would sit them on his lap in the evenings and tell stories of valiant heroes and ancient creatures and always made sure to tell them he loved them. Alatar would refer to Arielle as his “Little Princess” and Tyrell as “Little Phoenix” whilst giving his beloved wife the pet name “Tiger Lily”. He adored his nicknames and he always came up with new ones although those three always stuck. Just by looking at him and seeing his genuine smile anyone would know that his soul was full of nothing but love. He didn’t care about the discrimination at work nor the daily exhaustion as long as he saw his family with everything they needed.

Tyrell was five when Alatar was diagnosed with lung cancer.

It started out as what he dismissed as a chest infection but the coughing was relentless until he doubled up hacking into the handkerchief tight over his mouth. When he pulled it away, they saw blood. There was such an indescribable amount of fear in his face when he realised, more so than Ty had ever seen before. Roxy had begged every healer and doctor to help her husband but they all rejected her. Low Bloods were not permitted medical attention. As months passed, the once strong and merry demon shrivelled.

He forced himself to work for another year because he knew he had to provide for his family. But his employers noticed him collapse one too many times and relieved him from his job before he could even complete his shift. Yet it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because the next morning he couldn’t even get out of bed. 

He survived for three years. In that time, his booming, wet cough was heard all about the house and he shrunk into a skeletal, apologetic husk. Every night they could hear him choking on blood and Roxy soothing him as best she could. After some time, Ty and Arielle learned to fall asleep to the sound of their father’s coughing as if it were as common as birdsong.

Since Alatar could no longer work, Ty’s full belly morphed into waking up wondering when his next meal was. The warm hearth was replaced with nights shivering in blankets when they couldn’t afford firewood. Their neighbours’ once kind smiles turned into cold complaints about the constant coughing. Roxy tried everything in her power but it was useless and Alatar would apologise every day for the pain he had caused.

Tyrell wasn’t the same when he passed away. The house was silent and everything they looked at reminded them of their father. All of the memories in each piece of furniture unravelled in those first months, filling their brains with bittersweet grief. Now when Ty rushed out of bed crying from night terrors all he found was a bed with one side empty. Now he only heard Roxy return to work. He missed the sound of his father’s routine of announcing his arrival, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his cane and cloak. Alatar had left them all of the money he had under his name, the rights to the house so they would always have a roof over their heads and two items. His brass topped walking cane and his cloak. 

He always wore that cloak. It was a heavy, expensive grey fabric fastened with a marigold gemstone clip which never failed to comfort or keep the wearer warm. Ty cuddled it every moment he could, burying his face in the fabric to catch his father’s scent on it. He always smelt of coal and firewood as well as comforting things like green tea and candles. The child drowned in those memories until his scent wore away.

Arielle, now being sixteen when her father passed on, took on the same job as Roxy and they both worked tirelessly whilst Ty remained at home or at school, growing lonely with the endless hours he spent in that empty house. Tyrell tried many times to get a job but Roxy was bluntly refusing due to the only option being to work in the mines. She feared he would face the same fate his father did due to the polluted fumes being the cause of his cancer. There were many heated arguments about the subject but his mother always won no matter how hard he tried. They were no longer well off. But they scraped by. 

The years past and Ty grew older, the demons his age now curious with their developing traits. The Pride demons were grouping together with Lusts tumbling after them with puppy-love; desperate to ease the desires they now experienced despite the conflicts between the two breeds. The symbols on their bodies became their rights; the reasons and roles they would each play in a group. Tyrell, of course, excluded himself. He watched his own kind woo and brawl anyone they pleased. He saw countless of his own kind with girls at their hips, grinning and charming them like a curse.

By that time he had grown out his hair, to his mother’s dismay, to his shoulders and had a fully grown pair of leathery wings and bull horns. He took pride in them, as he should, and built up an athletic build. He wore his father’s cloak around him as a source of comfort and sported his symbol - the hollow diamond - on his left shoulder.

Ty knew from a young age that he wasn’t like the others of his own kind. Whilst they dreamt of undressing the girl at their side or waltzing another down the path of maturity he thought different. 

He saw the Prides themselves; boys growing too fast for their maturity with loud laughs and the muscles they bore like trophies. He saw the male Gluttonies with gems in their headpieces and smiles that shone like pearls, their nimble hands with perfectly manicured claws that he wanted to imagine wrapped around him. 

The Greeds, small and mischievous with big smiles and heads of fluffy hair that he wanted to run his fingers through. The Envy boys were mysterious and brooding with lanky bodies; it made him want to spin them around and open their hearts to the love he knew their kind needed. 

The Sloth boys were cute and passive, huddled together with their animal print skin to nap or laze in the heat. He wanted to cuddle with one the boys and lull them to sleep; particularly one boy with the snow leopard skin. He saw the male Wraths and found them intriguing despite their constant dangerous demeanours. He spent nights awake imagining himself soothing one’s heart and kissing the lips that were always stretched into a smile.

Ty saw the Lusts. The breed that hated his own due to their arrogance and abuse. He saw the boys and their beautiful bodies and flirtatious mannerisms, winks that were directed at others made his heart pound. Soft tufts of hair in colours that their cheeks would blush in, their swishing tails relaxed and fluffy. He wanted to look deep into their shining eyes and hold them because, to him, he didn’t care for their bodies. 

For the years of his growth, alone in that house, his head was full of boys. He would watch through the window just out of sight and learn each demon’s personality through days of gazing. He wanted to be outside with them and get to know them instead of imagining scenarios in his head where they fell head over heels for him. The worst part about it was that he could. He could be with another boy if he wanted, there was absolutely nothing in the Underworld against it. His Mother knew countless same-sex couples and he even knew some of the sexualities of the boys outside on the street. But he stayed indoors, in his own little world.

And then the Prides found a Lust.

They threw him onto the street right outside Ty’s house and began beating him mercilessly whilst he choked on his cries. Psychopath! Weirdo! Dirty Lust! and countless others were some of the horrid names they called him. Tyrell suddenly felt anger and the mild crushes he developed on the cruel demons outside fizzled out like dying flames. He got up subconsciously with no control over his actions and barged outside wielding nothing but a spear. With no real strategy or plan, he started bashing the much larger males with it. 

The fight ended with both him and the Lust on the ground beaten to a pulp and the Prides getting bored of their game. They left Ty with a snapped spear and a bloody nose, cackling to themselves as they walked away. He sat up, wincing in pain, and helped the Lust up.

He was beautiful. To Tyrell, at least. He was a Low Blood, just like him. He had round cheeks and a button nose, his skin pale and porcelain. Right off the bat, he knew his smile was big and bright, his teeth shaped into fangs. The Lust had his third eye on his throat and a cross upon his forehead, his regular eyes holding two irises each. His gazelle shaped horns were buttercup yellow and his smoky grey hair was dyed red at the fringe.

His eyes were always glassy as if he were about to cry and they would always go wide at the slightest sound. Despite having so many eyes, he couldn’t seem to hold eye contact for very long. 

“Hey...” Ty said softly, “Are you okay?”

“Not really...” The Lust responded, spitting out blood and wiping his face on the torn sleeve of his tight yet torn up shirt. Ty noticed his symbol - the heart eye - on his right hip. “Why’d you save me? Are you gonna beat me up as well?”

“What? No,” Tyrell let out a strained laugh but he didn’t laugh back, he looked like a stunned deer in headlights, “Why would I let myself get beat up to try and help if I was just gonna beat you up anyway?”

“Pfft, you did a lousy job of helping,” He playfully punched his shoulder and grinned. His smile made Ty’s heart hammer in his chest. “I’m Julius.”

“I’m Tyrell,”

“Well, Tyrell... nice to meet ya,” He stood up and winced, rubbing his bruised side. Julius offered a hand to help him up and he took it. The contact was like a zap through Ty’s body and that bolt of energy awakened something deep inside him. His hands were so soft and the pads of his palm and fingertips were squishy. He wanted to hold them. The next thing he knew, he was back on his feet and his hand was lingering on Julius’. He let go hastily, his cheeks dusting a gentle pink.

“S-So umm.. I thought Lusts hated my kind...”

“Who says I don’t?”

“Oh...My apologies-”

“By the Keeper, you are a formal one, aren’t ya?” Julius laughed and that only made his heart race faster, “Don’t get so nervous. I’m not feeling the urge to punch you so I’d say you’re not like other Prides.”

“I mean, I did get punched a lot trying to save your ass,” Ty wiped the blood from his nose with his fingers, “Come with me, I think my Ma has some ointment. My house is just over there.”

“Inviting me over so soon?” He teased but nodded all the same, his own cheeks going a soft tea rose pink.

“Trust me, I’m hardly so forward. But it won’t suffice that you’re bleeding out through your nose.”

“You’re one to talk!”

Their relationship blossomed like a rose. Tyrell was young and he was hopelessly in love with Julius. They shared numerous memories and days together. They would get caught in the rain and laugh as they were soaked to the bone. Ty would always bring him lush bouquets of yellow calibrachoa the exact shade of his eyes. Julius would rub his dark skin comfortingly and place soft kisses on his face, humming songs to him. After a year, they exchanged promise rings.

But from the start, he knew that something wasn’t right in Julius’ head. He would lash out and be aggressive when unprovoked, he held a certain disregard for the wellbeing of others; even Ty at times. There were moments where he would hit him and argue, he would gaslight him constantly and talk behind his family’s back. But he loved him. Juli was his first, he wasn’t the best nor was he the last but he was his Julius, the time they spent together meant the world to him. He would do anything for him. Ty even had his symbol - something sacred to his kind - tattooed over alongside Juli’s. Roxy was horrified when she saw it.

He’s too controlling, Ty.

Are you sure you’re happy, dear? 

Something about him unsettles me. He is so aggressive.

It isn’t because he’s a Lust, Ty. It’s because he doesn’t love you!

“If you leave me, I’ll hurt myself! But I’m so pathetic, you should just leave me!”

“Don’t you hate it how nosy your sister is?”

“I’m the only one you can trust. You don’t need them.”

“I love you so much, Ty. I don’t know what I’d do without you...”

There was always something beyond Tyrell that Julius always sought. He always spoke of ruling his own clan one day, one composed of Low Bloods alone that would overpower the Superiors. His eyes would light up talking about it, more so than anything else. Bright-Fury was his name for it. Ty would always listen as long as he got to cuddle him in the process.

Julius wanted his clan so badly but he never seemed to succeed in doing so. Then, he discovered another clan owned by a Superior Lust named Kyle. He owned the largest clan in the Underworld by the name of Bloodbrand and Julius knew that if he won his friendship that would be a stepping stone towards his goal. Ty told Arielle of this and she immediately disagreed, practically begging him not to follow along with it. But Ty, being young and in love, ignored his sister’s pleas.

Kyle had a brother. His name was Joseph however he was always referred to as JoJo. He was a scrawny, sixteen-year-old Low Blood Greed with inverted vitiligo and a fuzzy head of ginger hair with a small pair of cow horns sticking out. JoJo had non-verbal autism so he relied on sounds or sign to communicate but that didn’t stop him from being a bubbly little magpie. He was loveable and protected intensely by his brother and the rest of the clan however he did not have any friends. Julius took advantage of him.

He and Tyrell etched themselves into the clan through the help of JoJo who was overjoyed to have people to play with. Julius would play games with him and bring him gifts that immediately made the small Greed connect with them. Ty, on the other hand, was not aware of what was truly going on and spent hours at a time either learning sign or letting JoJo show him his special interests. JoJo adored shiny things, puzzles and books. He loved colouring pictures and having Ty read to him. 

Unknowing to Ty, Julius was feeding JoJo bad information about his brother. He hoped it would fester enough to get JoJo to join their developing clan or even force his brother out of the position so Juli could replace him.

However, after a month, Kyle caught on to the act.

He confronted them by the cliff’s edge above Low Blood Forest and demanded they leave. Julius began to get violent, humiliated and determined. He did not want to fail. He couldn’t fail. Kyle was merciful and allowed them to leave but at that moment JoJo had spotted them. He didn’t understand the situation nor could he realise, he ran towards them to greet his friends and Kyle tried to stop him but it was too late. Ty realised at the last second and tried to grab Juli but he had already slashed the Greed up the torso.

JoJo staggered back with pain, mumbling a broken Kyy...he-lp... He couldn’t comprehend the pain and collapsed backwards, off the edge of the cliff where he plummeted downwards into the forest below and disappeared. Kyle tried to catch him.

Julius was impaled on the spot with a spear and was dead before he hit the ground.

Kyle was now broken with grief as other clansmen held Ty down. The icy demon started to shriek with rage and swung around, determined to avenge his brother. He didn’t care if Ty didn’t do it, he needed an outlet and hurled all of his blame onto him. 

Tyrell was torn up and De-Ranked without mercy due to Kyle’s fury. His horns were snapped, his wings torn from his back and he was burned severely on the right side of his face. He was slashed, burned, beaten and tugged for an unknown amount of time before being left for dead. He was alone.

Somehow or other, Ty survived. It was if something was beckoning him to stay awake, to get up and refuse to let himself drift into death’s embrace. Someone familiar that he could no longer see. He had awoken with choked beg for Julius and crawled up to his corpse in desperation despite the affliction. For a while, he held his bloodied body and cried as the pain consumed him. Julius’ soul, a gradient of hot red and yellow, drifted above him aimlessly. With his cloak wrapped around his bleeding form, Ty picked up Juli’s body and stood with great effort. He did not have a destination nor a thought of his own. He wanted his family. If Alatar were there this never would’ve happened.

An unnatural phenomenon known as “pop-up portals” occurred at that moment. No one could explain why it happened as they were entirely random, but it was rumoured that they were portal users’ excess energy dispersing itself somewhere. By some miracle, one appeared beneath Ty just as he collapsed, causing him and the corpse to plummet into the Overworld.

He was unconscious and bleeding out in the forest. It seemed that the Soul Keeper was sparing his life because he crossed paths with another troubled soul. His name was Dan. He was a blurred face in a crowd, someone who felt he had no purpose in his life. On that day he wore a black hoodie to hide his insomnia-stuck face and scarred arms. He had a bottle of medication in his pocket and a coil of rope. He came to the forest to end his life.

Dan had written his notes and spent the last hour in the forest smoking and taking one last shot of whiskey, leaning against a tree and rethinking his choices. He took a breath and wiped his eyes, picking up the rope and walking further into the forest. As he turned to throw the rope over a low hanging branch he noticed something. An unconscious demon wounded and next to a corpse.

Instantly, he ran up to him and shook him with concern. “Oh my god- umm... s-sir?” He said, checking his pulse, “Sir, are you okay!?”

Dan hovered the back of his hand against the demon’s mouth and felt a weak breath. It was faint but it was all he needed to know that this man was determined to live. It was if his own problems melted away. His entire mind was focused on the survival of this stranger. He examined the wounds and felt sick to the stomach, the clear damage and pain these wounds must’ve caused were heartbreaking. He didn’t even check the other demon; it was clear he was dead.

“Sir, if you can hear me, don’t worry!” He said, having to bolt back to his backpack and grab his phone to call an ambulance. He then dropped the phone and pulled the demon’s arm over his shoulder, heaving him up and carrying him outside the forest. He was much taller and heavier but he didn’t give up, talking to him the entire time as if he was listening.

Tyrell was saved and recovered. He bore terrible scars after the incident and it took months for him to mentally recover. He woke up crying for his family and Julius but ultimately had to accept that his lover was gone. Julius was buried in the Underworld with a bunch of calibrachoas upon his grave. 

Once he was recovered, Ty started to develop feelings for Dan. It was almost a year later and they had both become good friends as they recovered together. It soon became more than that and Ty felt a stronger love; a love that made him want to hug and kiss instead of stay quiet.

Unlike his counterpart, Tyrell didn’t fester with the grief. He grew out his hair, turned to bodybuilding to ease his scars and had them closed up by the medical team after joining a mafia. He developed a skill in shooting and fighting, his aim was impeccable and his strategy perfect. He made friends, married Dan and reunited with his family. His heart was warm.

For many years Kyle hunted to kill him and his family for what he had done and had committed unspeakable things to achieve it. But once he discovered JoJo had survived that day he gave up and was willing to get help for his mental disorders. JoJo had been saved by a pop-up portal that appeared below him, causing him to fall into the Overworld and straight into a healing pool. He was found a few months later by Dr Levi Allison - one of Ty’s good friends - and treated him like a son. Kyle was put in intensive therapy for many months to treat his turmoil and although Ty could not entirely forgive him, he accepted his apology and tried to move on.

In the present day, things settled down. Ty is sitting on the sofa with his husband and their three children watching a movie. His dog Ari is lying across his lap and Dan is snuggled into his chest as his cat, Cookie kneads his chest. He’s stronger and warmer than he ever was in a beautiful house and with his perfect family. His mind was broken that day, but through an undying will to keep going he clung to all of his memories possessively. He hadn’t forgotten anything that had happened to him because he knew they shaped him as a person. Despite thoughts slipping his mind every once in a while due to his memory loss, he always kept what was important in his heart. He still misses Julius and Alatar but he can say he’s moved on.

Up in his bedroom on his side of the walk-in closet, there is a section that he keeps immaculate. Upon a peg is Alatar’s cloak, pressed and hung just how his father always kept it. On the shelf above it sits a boxed promise ring, a brass-topped walking cane and coins stored in an old honey jar.

.

Yin.

It was 916 AD when Tyrell was born on a night under a full moon in Kent, England. He was born into a well off family of Germanic and African descent after the Jutes invaded long ago. Despite his family being coloured, they were still valued members of the county as they came from a line of merchants. Although they were not noble or overly rich, they still maintained a cosy home and a positive reputation.

On the night of his birth, his father came bolting from his home to the streets calling for help. His newborn son was not taking his first breath and his tiny heartbeat was struggling to keep rhythmic. On that same evening, a travelling doctor by the name of Lenus just so happened to be passing through. He was a blond-haired man with green eyes and an array of herbal medicines. He had been seen during the day collecting herbs and causing a murmur of questioning. He was Scottish yet there was something off about him. He looked too thoughtful as if seeing the world amazed him.

Alatar located him and practically dragged him to his home, frantic as he explained yet the healer remained calm. Alatar was in tears alongside his wife who was disorientated and weak but Lenus calmly picked up the child and rubbed his chest. Unknowing to the couple, he was secretly sending a flow of healing magic through his body, having to quote the spell in his mind as he did not want to be accused of witchery. He spoke words of encouragement out loud and after one last pulse of healing mana, the child sprung to life with tiny breaths which he immediately used to wail.

“There he is!” Len had exclaimed and internally sighed with relief, “There’s the wee lad! Goodness, he’s quite a loud one.”

“Thank the Lord!” Alatar cried, putting his arm around Roxy as she reached out for her child. Lenus quickly washed him and wrapped him in the available blanket, handing him carefully to his mother who cradled him closely.

Lenus spent a while helping Roxy clean up after labour and gave them both some sweet herb remedies to help them. He was looking closely at Alatar. There was an aura resonating within him. It spoke to him of upcoming sickness and there were images of will-o-wisps and crows in his mind. Lenus reached into his satchel and removed a blue crystal that shone in the candlelight.

“Here, a gift for his birth,” Lenus offered it to Alatar and he gingerly took it from his hands, examining it. “May it bring you the Lord’s healing.”

Although he did send wisps of his own healing magic into the crystal he had also assigned his auras to Alatar’s. In that short moment that they made contact through the crystal, he had fused the father’s aura with his own. Through the crystal, he could keep track of his condition and ultimately return to the village when he was needed.

“Bless you, Lenus,” Roxy whispered tiredly in her husband’s arms as their daughter entered the room to see her new brother.

Lenus nodded and left when his job was done. Hidden by the night, he walked from the village to a nearby pond and finally let his camouflage fall. He summoned the portal into the water and summoned his staff into his hand before dropping through into Duat.

Tyrell grew up in a wealthy town with his older sister but as the only son, he was due to inherit Alatar’s land and fortune instead of her. The town was friendly enough and he knew no different than streets and surrounding forest. His town was incredibly religious and worshipped God wholeheartedly, not standing for any kind of blasphemy or sin. The first thing he read was the bible and had most of it memorised by the time he was seven. He prayed whenever he was told to and attended the church services as he should. He never knew any different.

His father was a merchant. He was mostly a miner of iron and coal, he also sold silks and linens but he was also known for his fine hunting skills. He was kind to those who met him and was incredibly truthful, his customers were always provided with the best. He owned a few acres of land and a nice house with everything they needed to be comfortable. He loved his children and his wife completely, he never beat them or yelled but instead faced every situation with rationality. Alatar would sit by the fire with his children sat in front of him where he would tell stories and jokes. While most of his stories were from the top of his head, the rest were read from the bible and Ty only seemed to listen to those that included the supernatural. 

Tales of Gabriel, Raphael, Ezekiel and beings beyond this world were ones that intrigued him. The thought of the fallen angels - demons - were terrifying to him, the burning fear that one wrong move would send him kneeling before Lucifer himself. He found the thought of religion comforting and safe but also frightening. Ty, from the mere age of four, was wondering whether he was wrong and went to sleep afraid that the heavens would smite him.

Alatar used to take him hunting in the woods with his friends, teaching him how to shoot a bow but having tiny hands and a natural nervousness didn’t make him a good shot. However, after a while, he grew tired of failed archery lessons and picked up a stone. 

Ty threw it in frustration at his failures attempting to scare off the pheasant they were stalking but he instead hit it straight in the head and killed it instantly. Al’s friends were in fits of laughter and cheering but the child was sobbing with guilt as his father rubbed his back and encouraged him. He told his friends to leave his son alone and told him that he had caught their dinner. It was safe to say that Ty did lose his appetite that night and his taste for pheasant.

Memories with his father were ones he would’ve looked back on and laughed yet only days after his hunting Alatar started to fall ill. Like his counterpart, he was only five at the time and as it happened his wealthy life began to falter.

They prayed for his recovery every night and at every meal but whatever was listening only made it worse. It seemed that every time they prayed he only got worse. Soon his presence was lost around the dinner table and saying Grace was interrupted by coughing. It was only when Alatar was so bed bound he could not attend church was when the doctors tried to diagnose him. 

Tried.

Karkinos, modernly known as cancer, was diagnosed through outwardly visible tumours and deformities in the skin. But Alatar had lung cancer - he had nothing but handkerchiefs stained with blood and phlegm to show for it.

Not a single doctor knew how to treat or even diagnose his father’s illness so, naturally, they turned to the only answer they could think of. Incubi were tormenting him. Ty had to stand by his father’s bedside and watch him endure blood-letting and exorcisms. Yet it never relented no matter how much sage was burned. The priest could’ve quoted the whole bible and whatever demon lay within Alatar would not budge.

By the second year, they were on the brink of being homeless. Unlike the community around them, the tax collector did not show empathy. Alatar only had a small amount of savings and Roxy was forced to pay them to the king, leaving them all hungry for days on end. The town would chip in where they could; giving them bread and milk and the odd coin when they were still buzzing with generosity from the church service. Yet it wasn’t enough. 

Then the travelling doctor returned. On the day the tax collector arrived, he came knocking on the door with a pouch of money with enough to pay tax and get them dinner. He always arrived just in time to help and Roxy praised him as if he were one of the Lord’s angels. 

In his bag, he brought more herbs and although he could not heal Alatar, he eased his pain. Tyrell lingered by the door as Lenus worked soundlessly with a touch as gentle as a feather’s. He mixed herbs and oils together, applying them where he knew they were needed, and he mumbled words. The child watched out of his sight and he swore he saw wisps of some kind settle into Alatar’s body, making him breathe out painlessly. Ty didn’t understand why he was helping. He didn’t understand why he always just so happened to appear when they needed him.

Lenus was back a year later to help Alatar pass peacefully. He carried Ty out of the room when he started to lash out and sat him down, calming him down until he broke down into sobs and clung to him with grief. The doctor gave them all they could but then he left and they never saw him again.

Roxy and Arielle managed to get a job together, they did the laundry and whatever job they were requested, working through cold nights to barely earn a penny from the town. Roxy was a widow and because she did not remarry, the other townsfolk lost respect for her. Unlike most families, Alatar and Roxy married through their own accord and were married through love rather than the words of a priest. She refused to remarry, she didn’t care about the names she was called.

Ty felt alone. So, so horribly alone.

Years dragged on and Tyrell was twelve, assigned to the tithing of nine other men to ensure that any crimes he or any other man in the group were brought to justice. Three of the boys were a little older whilst the others were strong men. At the time, he remembered sitting by the river with his tithing and that was the day something awoke within him. The three older boys, out of sight from the rest of the village, had stripped down to briefs and ran into the river in fits of laughter. They splashed water at each other and swam through the glittering water, they looked up and started calling to Ty from the grass. When he refused, one ran out of the water and pulled him towards the others.

Ty tried to refuse but he was laughing too much to say no, so he joined them. The nameless boy’s smile was so warm and so innocent, his grip on his arm was caring and joyful. They sparred in the river bank and threw water weeds at each other until they were laughing so much they could barely breathe. That day was perfect to him and he dreamt about it for weeks afterwards. It wasn’t the memory itself. It was the other boys. He had never experienced such feelings when he used to play family with the other girls in the town. There was something wrong that was making him like the boys like he was supposed to like a girl. 

When he realised, it was nothing but Leviticus 18:22 blaring in his mind until he cried himself to sleep.

The next morning there was a meeting held outside the church. It was a Tuesday morning, there was nothing special about it. The sun was out and the birds were singing, there should’ve been nothing wrong.

The entire town had gathered outside the church for the execution. Ty, his sister and his mother were stood near the front and he had a perfect view. Two men had been tied to a post with just enough room to hold each other. One was the baker and the other was a farmer. They were married men but the reason why they were here was clear.  They had been caught in the act by their suspicious wives. They were sodomites. 

Ty felt truly sick, the hateful words the priest spat at the two weeping men was rattling in his head but he knew he couldn’t cry; he didn’t think he was able to. They were two humans, two men that found companionship like his parents had. They were happy in hiding together and this town had ruined it.

The next thing he knew, the whole town had an armful of rocks. They were yelling and hissing at the two men as they tried to hide. Their wives were the first to throw the stones then a downpour of them came raining down. The baker tried desperately to protect his lover but they were both doubled up, shrieking from pain and begging for it to end. 

Sodomites. Demons. Go back to hell. Abominations.

The yelling and the hateful faces were tearing through Ty’s mind. He was holding a stone tightly in his hand but he didn’t throw it and he couldn’t bear to see if his own family were doing the same. He glanced to the right and saw the nameless boy. He was yelling and throwing rocks, calling the two men demons and sinful. He was laughing when the baker’s skull broke. The farmer was clinging to his dead partner, sobbing and trying to shake him. He barely got to utter his lover’s name before a rock struck him right in the temple and sent him tumbling on top of his lover, gasping for breath. They were both dead after a few more seconds.

It only took two minutes but it was enough to traumatise him. They were abominations, and the thoughts he had made him one too.

For the years after that, he clung to his pillow and begged the heavens to get the thoughts out of his head. That day in the river was his worst nightmare and it felt like everyone around him was plotting to kill him. Ty never told anyone of his feelings, he pushed them down as far as he could and tried to move on. But every time he heard that priest speak, it always brought him back to that day with the baker and the farmer. After that day, he pulled away from his tithing as much as he could. He once saw the boys reenacting what happened as a joke, pretending to throw tiny pebbles at two other cackling children.

When Ty was eighteen, his second-biggest burden was now even worse. There was a nobleman by the name of Tilton who lived near him. His family were the richest, they owned the most land and were famous for selling resources. They were loved by everyone and they knew it. Tilton was handsome and it was in his head, he strode around the streets tossing a penny at the odd pauper and had a gleam in his eyes. He owned three horses and his own hunting ground, his blond hair brushed back and his hands smooth, unworked. He had been spoonfed throughout his life and the worst part was that he was nice, for the most part.

He had taken a shine to Arielle years before, months after Alatar had passed. He used his death to manipulate her mind when she cleaned for them and started donating money to her to help keep them well off. Ty hated it when he saw more than cabbage stew on the table and he didn’t know why. Tildon was just such a rich brat and he hated it. Ty himself worked as a carpenter from fourteen and it was exhausting, yet his hard work was nothing compared to the sum Tildon donated each week.

Although he was glad to see his mother smiling again and finally filling out her clothes. He was glad Arielle was finally able to afford the things the other girls had in the town. But there was this gleam in Tildon’s eye that made him want to fight him, he was always smiling too long and always looking down on him.

He hated him. Because of little comments that he would slip in privately to him terrified him. I saw you staring at one of the ploughers, Tyrell, did he catch your eye?

He was twenty-two when Tildon then summoned him and his mother to the town centre where he brought his little sister. He chose the centre because he knew people would be watching. The town sweetheart next to the boy who is always in his own little world.

Tildon’s little sister was called Adelina. She was no more than nine with beautiful blonde ringlets, rosy cheeks and blue eyes. She was a perfectly innocent child yet she looked up at Tyrell with fear.

“As I’m sure you know, Tyrell, this is my little sister, Adelina,” Tildon spoke with that gleam in his eye, “Dear Roxy and I have arranged you and her to be married.”

Tyrell blinked in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Did you not hear me correctly?”

“She’s...she’s so young...”

“Of course, she is not prepared. Once she begins her monthly blood you two will be wed,” He didn’t break his gaze. “I thought since I am to marry Arielle that I could return the favour since she speaks so fondly of you. I cannot wait for us to truly be brothers, you will finally make a name for that family of yours. It’ll be much more beneficial to you than risking your life watching the plougher.”

Tyrell lost all sense of communication when he heard that, his face was pale and his eyes were on Adelina. He looked just as scared as her.

He tried to talk Arielle out of it but her mind was set. It sparked a heated argument between them. Ty begged her to rethink but she was just as stubborn as Roxy.

“You cannot do this to yourself, I will not allow it!”

“I am thirty years old, Tyrell. I have no choice! I should’ve married him the first time he offered!”

“Father would not have let you do this, Arielle!”

“Father is dead!” Arielle yelled, “Get your head out of hell’s gate before it drags you down! You are too young to understand!”

Ty lost. He was so furious when he watched his sister be married off to Tildon and taken away to his luxurious house. Adelina had since had her blood and they both knew they would be married only days later.

Tildon had invited him and his newlywed wife out hunting on two of those prize horses and Ty could no longer refuse. He hated the way he flaunted his game at Arielle and didn’t allow her to get off of the horse. Ty’s hands shook as he released the arrow of his bow, sending it tearing through the day and piercing a doe’s eye. He felt sick to his stomach but his anger was brewing, removing his hesitation and empathy for the innocent creature he hunted. It was by a peaceful stream lined with mossy rocks, drinking from the cool waters as sunlight grazed its fur. Blood pooled around its head like a halo.

Tildon rushed forwards, babbling in awe as Ty discarded the bow and tailed him. It was as if he were an animal, territorial of his catch that the nobleman grabbed at and inspected.

Fantastic shot, Tyrell. However, it would have been more profitable to hunt a stag rather than a scrawny, beginner’s doe. You could scratch a penny for her hide, at least, but I doubt you would know that.

Ty snapped back blindly. At first, it was to argue to leave his catch alone and it was better than the puny pheasant he snagged in a trap rather by hand, but that soon mutated into his inner anger. He found himself shouting about his hatred, ignoring the deer completely and yelling to his face about Tildon’s behaviour. He jabbed his chest with his finger, blurting out his hate for the nobleman’s objectification of his sister and his ungrateful attitude. Arielle had leapt off the horse by now and was trying to break it up but Ty was lost in a red cloud.

“How dare you speak to me in such a manner!” Tildon roared, his face burned with humiliation as if the trees themselves were whispering, “I have been nothing but generous to your family for years! I save you from homelessness, I rescue your mother’s reputation and ensure you all slept with full bellies and you repay me with abuse, ungrateful rat! My father was right about your family, you are just as much a filthy gremlin as your father was!”

Tyrell lost all control at that moment.

It was just one push. Ty had done worse as a child. It wouldn’t have even bruised him if he wasn’t standing by the rocks. Maybe if he stood in the grass it wouldn’t have happened. 

Tildon fell back, flailing his arms for support and grabbing Arielle’s wrist, dragging her down with him. He fell and his head struck a rock, causing a shuddering crack. He was motionless with eyes wide like a fish, his mouth hanging open and his body going loose in an instant, his final breath was caught in his throat and the blood trickled into the stream.

It was all such a blur. Ty staggered back in horror as the right side of his chest felt as if it were burning. Arielle rushed forwards and shrieked, shaking the man and pleading for him to awaken but it was already done.

“What have you done?! You’ve killed him!”

Ty collapsed, not only with horror but with agonizing pain that he could not describe, it burned and tore at him as the fear clamped around his chest. He doubled up, clutching his head and shrieking with terror. He felt as if something was tearing through his head and back, his feet and hands mutating into something inhuman. Arielle was screaming but now it was in terror, backing herself into a tree as the horses reared up and bolted. Tyrell cried for his mother and his father, he cried to God to make it stop but nothing responded as the power flooded through his veins.

He clawed the grass and uprooted it with ease, lifting his trembling hand to witness sharp, demonic claws and a flaming power burning into his palms. He screamed and clutched his head, lifting himself to view the monster in the waters. A pair of grey bull horns had grown atop his head, his eyes were an unnatural marigold with grey sclera. He had two sharper fangs and a pair of loose bat wings, a thick tail coiled around his legs and a symbol had burned into the right side of his chest.

Demon! Demon! Tyrell has been possessed!

His only instinct was to run away. Ty was panicking, his head was in pieces and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He stumbled to his feet but immediately lost balance due to the new, bird-like shape and the uneven balance in his body. He got back up and ran away into the forest, stumbling and blinded by trees with nothing but his father’s cloak as comfort.

He doesn’t know how, but he ended up in Duat. All he remembers was running through the river he used to play in and feeling inhuman energy within him. Ty fell through and caught a glimpse of the hellscape and it was if his wings automatically sprung out to parachute him.

He landed on the ground and stared up, witnessing demonic creatures with various symbols and monstrous forms. Ty scrambled away and backed himself into the wall, sobbing frantically and hyperventilating. 

Oh, he’s definitely a newbie. Should we help him? No, he’ll learn better if he’s left alone, I don’t want to be dusted from a newbie with unstable powers. Manslaughter? I didn’t think that kind of brand would count.

They were staring at him and whispering. Ty wanted to wake up from this nightmare, he had learned his lesson. He didn’t want to be a demon, he thought he had always been loyal. Was it because he did not banish the baker and the farmer? His entire world was shattered around him and he could not think straight.

“Hey.” 

Someone was talking to him. Ty looked up and screamed again, witnessing a demon with sickly pale skin and grey hair with red highlights. His teeth were fanged and his eyes had two irises each, a third on his throat.

He had scrambled away but the demon grabbed his wrist and slapped him. “Calm down! You’re okay!”

Even the other demons watching mumbled at his aggressive behaviour but they moved on, leaving the pair alone. After nearly an hour with this demon nagging in his ear, he finally calmed down enough to listen.

The demon’s name was Julius and he was from Greece. His brand bared violence with fire. He had burned his parents and two siblings in their beds whilst they slept yet he never gave a reason why. Tyrell was in desperate need of support and found it in him, sticking to his side like a lost puppy and constantly in tears.

He looked around at the world at it was too much. He was in hell for what he had done. He saw couples and it shocked him to his core. Happy couples of the same sex kissing or holding each other as they passed. At first, he concluded they were there for falling victim to the same gender and he even yelled at two women out of his own turmoil. It wasn’t until Julius taught him the meaning of each brand that he finally understood that they were there for greater sins than sexuality. They weren’t here for their sexuality and that meant he wasn’t, either.

It took him three years to finally accept what had happened to him. He accepted his new body, the inhuman power and the lack of hunger or thirst, he learnt to fly and walk with balance. Ty learnt to use his new powers with control and could sleep without another nightmare of that day.

He didn’t know whether it was because he needed the affection or because of his newfound knowledge, but he fell for Julius and never left his side. He was clingy and emotional and deep down, he knew the demon loved that because he strung him along. Ty loved him so much, he never wanted to let go of him. He had no voice of reason to talk to, so he only fell further into the pit.

Alatar’s cloak was the only thing he had from his old life and he cherished it as much as Julius. At first, he tried to visit his family but to his dismay, his mother and sister were gone. Arielle died of shock from that day and his mother passed from a broken heart. He visited their graves when he could, sitting in front of his three family members for decades until the stones were eroded and unmarked. Ty wept for days on end and Julius offered his support to him, tangling him in a web of manipulation that he didn’t want to escape from.

Julius was a sociopath. He had no regard for other demons’ wellbeing and would become aggressive at the slightest thing. There were times he would yell at Ty and hit him for no reason, other times he would pander to him so they could be intimate - sometimes without Ty’s consent. He would argue with him and push buttons that made him break down in anger, causing them to spar and then call him weak when Ty lost. Yet all these signs to escape were never enough, Tyrell so desperately needed that support in his life and decided to blame himself for Julius’ behaviour.

The various hosts passed without Ty giving much thought yet secretly, he enjoyed the time away from Julius. He hated himself for thinking that way yet he couldn’t hide the truth.

Julius had another obsession that Tyrell couldn’t understand. It developed when Ty was around 800 years old. It - or rather, he was someone Julius idolised. Although Tyrell was never really caught in the crossfire, there was a war within Duat that he couldn’t remember the details of. But there was a demon that rose from that war and started to advance. His name was Gatsby, the self-proclaimed king. 

He didn’t understand why but Julius was obsessed with him. When he spoke of him he would lose sight of everything else and showed more praise for him than he ever did to Ty. He idolized his growing clan and his actions for no reason but he wanted to be just like him. He had never met him but he so badly wanted to be noticed. He spoke of building his own clan and fantasizing of forming an allegiance to Gatsby and Ty, too blind to object, happily followed along because when he spoke of it he would be so much happier and loving.

Like his counterpart, Julius inserted himself into Kyle’s clan to befriend JoJo. Kyle was powerful and dedicated, having murdered a woman to deliberately turn himself so he could be with his brother. He was calculated and caring with a focused mindset but a loving heart for his brother, who was a bubbly little thief who played right into Juli’s hands. The exact same events played out in this universe as they did in Yang’s.

On the day it all fell apart, they were located in the High Grounds, half the clan and Kyle himself huddling them near the cliff edge. Kyle himself was only exasperated and wanted to keep his little brother safe from harm. But he couldn’t realise what was happening until it was too late.

Julius had lost himself in his humiliation and refused to turn away empty-handed, his face burned and his fists clenched. Ty knew what he was planning and grabbed his arm, begging with his eyes for Juli not to do it. But the demon held no care for him, no worry for the consequences because he knew it was a death wish. The moment he struck JoJo was the moment Ty finally realised that he did not love him.

The spear impaled him in an instant as JoJo plummeted off the High Ground and Kyle’s mind shattered. In Julius’ last moments he stared up at the cosmic sky as his body reduced to dust, his lips shaking and blood pouring from his body yet there was no regret in his eyes. There was no love. No care. 

Ty was held down and brutally torn apart by the icy demon, unable to move as the rest of the clan held him down. It hurt beyond words and he begged for his family and for death yet nothing answered him. Kyle pressed a burning hand into his face and he shrieked in affliction, feeling his flesh burn away and right eye go blind. He was thrown down and Kyle stamped on his head as if trying to crush his skull, his brain being struck so badly that something was damaged beyond repair.

He was left alone.

Cold and bleeding out, Ty just wanted to turn to dust. But even now he was not pitied and endured the pain with soundless cries and shallow breaths. It was as if there was a comforting voice consoling him, a blurred figure in front of him that told him to get back up. It sounded like Alatar and Ty whimpered for him, reaching out his hand to grasp something but it was nothing but air.

When he got up, he swayed and stared at the pile of dust on the edge of the cliff and down at his lost horns and wings. He did not approach the dust but instead turned away, holding his cloak around himself and limping away. He whimpered at every, slow step and swayed from the pain. It felt like every step he took caused another memory to fizzle out until finally, he collapsed.

But, by some miracle, the travelling doctor had been brought to him by fate’s path and he noticed the broken demon and his heart ached to see him in pain. Lenus had rolled him over and recognised him immediately due to his likeliness to his father. Tears were welling up in his eyes as his own body ached from the healing lashes on his back yet he disregarded his own pains completely to help the scarred demon. 

The witch doctor could not heal him to normality but he did everything he could to help, cleaning and amputating the last of Ty’s wings and dressing each wound. Lenus gave him two of his potions and picked him up, carrying him to a cave so he could recover in peace before setting him down. He fixed his hair and set up a flask of water and all the bandage he had before planting a kiss on his forehead and leaving him. He couldn’t stay, the clan he escaped from were on his tail and he didn’t want Ty in any more danger. So he left, a soundless lifesaver.

When Tyrell awoke he had assumed he had gotten there by his own accord, healing himself and hiding in the cave yet losing the memory of it.

He could no longer trust anyone and he lost everything. He lost his wonder, his love for anything and his hope. He lost his powers, his wings and horns, every single memory of his human life and most of his time with Julius. He forgot the reason he owned the cloak and could no longer remember his sister’s face or his parents’ existence. He turned to wood carving for therapy, carving countless models of everyone and everything he could remember before it fizzled out. A faceless sister, a nameless boy with a rock in his hand, a baker and a farmer. He grew out his hair to hide the scars and turned away from everything, using a spear as his main weapon as if to always remind himself of what happened. Not that he could ever forget that day.

Then he stumbled into Demitri fifteen years later. He looked older in human years but much younger in terms of demon years. He was a big pink idiot who never slept and had an addiction to smoking weed. At first, Tyrell resented him yet no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t stop himself falling in love with him. He wasn’t like Julius, he was genuine, kind, gentle and funny. Everything he did had so much care and he wasn't used to it but he found himself letting himself learn. They both had their trauma and for the first time, Ty wanted to make it better. He didn’t always have the right answers but he wanted to make him better. He didn’t follow Demitri because he was starved of touch, he followed because he wanted to and that was enough to melt his heart.

Presently, he is cuddled up in Demitri’s arms. He’s awake but he knows Dem is too and thinks he’s asleep so he remains still to stay huddled in that moment. They’re sat in a small cave for shelter and it is peacefully quiet, allowing him to hear and feel his soft breathing. Ty is snuggled into his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and letting any anxiety float away. He can feel Demitri’s hand gently supporting his back, his thumb running over one of the scars on his back yet he doesn’t mind at all. The pink demon’s face is practically buried in his long hair and his mind is off in a daydream.

Tyrell doesn’t remember his past life and he’s still sad he can no longer picture his family or the location of their graves, but he is sure that he was happy before those days. But he doesn’t mind as long as he can stay in this kind of happiness with Demitri. He loved him more than anything else.

.

Phew! That was long! Sorry for the length but they both are very story rich and I didn’t want to split them up into two pieces.

I didn’t mean for Yin-Ty’s segment to be that long but his past is much more complicated than Yang-Ty’s and required more depth. This does not mean I favour one over the other, I love my beautiful boy(s) so much, I couldn’t pick a favourite!

This was so fun to write and I hope that it was fun to read whether you read one or the other or both! I liked building subtle contrasts between the two such as Julius’ behaviour and each Ty’s narrative. Such as Yang-Ty focusing on the good sides of their relationship as well as the bad whilst Yin-Ty only focused on the bad. Both Julius’ are assholes!

The writing is rather low quality since I’ve had low confidence and a need to blurt out the story for the past week so I hope that you enjoyed it!

As usual, I’ll fix any mistakes later.

See you soon! <3

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

The Oasis.

Welcome.

The Our Demons universe and Demitri belongs to @forthecrownanimation entirely. 

This story is a rather fluffy meeting between our ship, (Cloak)-Tyrell and Demitri! Please enjoy and check Mona out for more on her world! ^-^

Word count: 6,758. Long boi.

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Tyrell finds the trek to the Oasis increasingly unpleasant. Since the loss of his wings, he now has to rely on climbing and jumping to progress through the ragged locations of Duat. However, doing so also exhausts him since his upper body strength isn’t impressive and his scars always throb if he strains them. It seems that even now he isn’t pitied. 

After navigating through the admittedly safer cave he drops onto the grass with a light thump and staggers on his feet with a grumble as he releases his spear - his prime weapon after the loss of his magic - from his mouth and into his hand. He wanted to come here for some quiet time; he had barely avoided Kyle and in response, his mind was racing. 

The Oasis was one of the only thriving areas of Duat besides the Great Lake and emitted a serenity that even he could relax in. There was one single light source located in the cave’s roof which gave a view into the beautiful galactic ceiling that overhung the dimension and cast artificial stars into the pool of water. The water took up quite a portion of the Oasis and provided the main life source for the greenery around it. The grass was green and long with many colourful flowers growing in patches as well as a few bushes, trees, moss and climbing plants spread up the rocky walls. A set of large rocks are piled by one end of the waters, starting to smooth from other demons sitting upon them, and an abundance of lily pads and reed were growing atop the waters. Below the light source was a growing tree whose branches stretched widely with age but still allowing light to pass through the gently swaying leaves.

It smells like flowers, moss, and trees. Ty felt a little more relaxed here. Though the light source was present it was still rather dim so he looked around for any sign of other demons. Luckily he doesn’t seem to find any however having tunnel vision in his right eye did not make seeing very easy - especially in this place. 

The scarred demon sits by the water’s edge and sets his spear aside with a troubled sigh. Ty brings his cloak closer around his body and rests his chin on his knees to think. 

Everything was too much nowadays. The longer he stayed alive the more enraged Kyle became and the longer he stayed alive the more the scars hurt. 

Thinking about everything just jumbled his head into more of a puzzle. There were broken memories like broken shards of glass. Broken horns. Broken eyes. Broken memory. Broken body. Broken. Broken. Broken. He wishes he didn’t have to hide behind the cloak and his hair. He wishes he could remember his human life and his early demon life before Kyle. If he’s honest, he misses his old life. He misses his wings and his eyesight and his ability to laugh and grin like nothing could bother him. He misses Julius so much-

A sudden sound of water moving startles him and knocks him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t noticed another demon who had clearly been here before him and obviously hadn’t noticed him, either. The silhouette rose from the waters after being submerged and wrings out their thick hair, stepping onto the grass with a quiet groan. The figure is male and very tall with a broad stature, a large tail swishes outwards calmly as he stretches with an exhale. He sits himself down by the old tree and settles back in a calm manner as he lets the light breeze dry him off. Ty’s throat had closed up with anxiety.

His mind is then racing with thoughts on strategy or plans but it is hard for him to grasp a clear one since they are buzzing in his skull like bees; he’s allergic to bees. The demon is solitary - he knows that - and going by his demeanour he can tell he’s not immediately dangerous. Weaponless. That doesn’t clear the panic though and Ty decides that he shouldn’t risk a fight with this demon since he’s much larger and he’d have no hope with only a spear to defend himself with. Carefully, he gets up as slowly as he could and grasps his spear tightly with nerves. As long as he reached the exit he would be fine since the figure doesn’t seem to have wings.

As he stands, he looks back at the rather oblivious silhouette still covered by the vast shadows of the cave and hesitates. He isn’t moving. Ty could throw his spear, wound him and run. But what would that do? It would only bring attention to himself and he doesn’t want to start another fight he knows he cannot win. Or lose his spear.

Holding in a scowl, Ty steps backwards but - due to his tunnel vision - does not spot a rock lingering beneath the coarse grass and ends up catching his foot, tumbling onto his back with another thump and a yelp.

Ty curses under his breath as he shuffles back and stares at the silhouette who is now looking in his direction. “Oh, watch yourself, friend,” He calls out with a strange, unwarranted concern in his voice as he stands slowly with a grunt in doing so, “Don’t hit your head..”

As he comes closer Ty scrambles to his feet and points his spear at him as he stands a step from the ray of light poking through the tree branches.

“Back. Away!” He barks with shakiness in his tone. He squints and looks closer in attempts to make out the demon’s face. “I’m warning you!”

The figure doesn’t seem very bothered and steps into the light, causing Ty to take one step back in response. He is top heavy with large, strong muscles and a naturally wide posture as well as a sharp jaw. His skin is pastel pink, which admittedly makes him less scary, and his wine red hair is braided into thick dreadlocks. His gazelle shaped horns are rose red and his ears are short and naturally drooped. His profound chest is hairy and two red gash scars are located on his left shoulder as well as another across his abdomen. The demon is shirtless and wears a pair of jeans torn from the knee with his large tail moving gracefully to keep him balanced. The most prominent thing about him are his eyes. They are vivid pink with warm grey sclera (eye whites) yet they are heavy and tired with dark bags beneath them. His face is kind. Exhausted, but kind.

Handsome.

Ty soon realises that his mouth is moving and he blinks with bewilderment. “H-Huh..?” He stammers.

“I said are you alright..?” He repeats, his voice heavy with an accent. Russian.

“What does it matter to you?!” Tyrell snaps instantly, keeping their eyes locked. He blows a strand of his hair from his eye and pauses for a moment, bewildered by the silence. He breaks it with a huff of exasperation. “If I tell you I’m fine will you back off, stoner?”

The demon lets out a chuckle and tilts his head with a slight smirk as he sets his hands on his hips. “You... don’t talk to people often, do you?” 

Admittedly taken aback by how unusually calm he is, Ty frowns. He’s surprised he wasn’t insulted by the name-calling. “Why is that any of your business?!”

“I was just wondering...” The demon shrugs calmly, his tail swishing again as his smile fades, “You..uh- ..how long have you been down here..?”

“A few minutes,” Ty replies coldly as his marigold eyes travel up and down. He observes each part of him and perhaps spends a little too much time looking at his chest. He swallows and hides behind his hair as he prods his spear in his direction again to try and scare him off. “Leave me alone, will ya?!”

The demon lifts his hands in surrender and steps away with a kind smile on his warm face which once again surprises Ty. He sits by the water with a relaxed posture, his hand resting in the grass as he looks back at him. His tail settles into the shallow water, flicking absentmindedly.

For the first time, Tyrell has a shift in his mindset and a pang of guilt hits him in a wave. Seeing his kind face and thinking of his own actions makes his ears burn with embarrassment...the old him wasn’t taught to be rude. Not used to this kind of interaction, his spear lowers and he once again hesitates. The demon is letting him leave. He’s not used to that.

He knows that not every demon is out to kill him but this one is different. So much so that it intrigues him. In response, his brain tries to remind him of Julius to tug him back into solitude but for once he doesn’t listen to it. He’s curious of this strangely peaceful demon who he’s not sure isn’t a stoner due to his eye bags and the herbal scent emitting from him.

There is about half a minute of awkward hesitation where he looks between the pink demon and the exit before sighing, giving up, and coming forwards. Tyrell sits down a few feet away and sets his spear down but doesn’t let go. “S-Sorry...” He mutters just loud enough for him to hear as he prods his finger into the water.

The demon smiles again and looks out at the water, letting the atmosphere be easy and relaxed which does help Ty feel calmer. After a few minutes of accepted quiet, he looks back at Ty. “Demitri...not stoner.” He finally says.

“Tyrell,” He responds as he listens to his name. It’s a fitting name. It’s memorable. Once again, his mind is racing with thoughts. Some of them are positive but most are demanding to know why he is willingly sitting beside a stranger. Through the pressure of his own mind, he blurts out the first thought that is the loudest without much thought. “I like your smile... it’s very calming and ador-” He cuts himself off the moment those messy words leave his lips, trying to mask it as he loudly clears his throat and hides behind the curtain of his chocolate brown hair.

This only makes Demitri smile more at him and chuckle again. “See now, that’s called a compliment...I’d say you’re good at them, in fact,” He remarks, gazing at the waters briefly before his eyes rest on Ty again; observing him, “Let’s see...hmm, I would compliment something about you but...I can’t see your face very well.”

“Shut up, idiot! I didn’t say anything!” Ty exclaims frantically, his face threatening to fluster. The right side of his face - scarred and covered completely by his fringe - is also starting to tint ever so slightly. Before he can control himself, his hand brushes back the loose strands covering the left side of his face and looks at Dem.

The pink demon looks at him quietly for a few seconds, his tired eyes glancing over him and double-taking at the cloak as if he didn’t realise it was there. “I like your hair...” Demitri says, still somehow un-bothered by the insults, “It seems manageable.”

“N-No..” Ty shakes his head and gulps, “I-It tangles and gets caught..”

“Well...hey, it’s better than having hair like mine,” He shrugs, fiddling with a dread that fell loose from the band, “It’s messy when it’s not braided.”

“Yours looks like those strawberry...liquorice things.” Tyrell rests his chin on his knees and pushes back his cloak so he can sit more freely.

“Liquorice...” Again with that kind smile, a soft look in his eyes that makes Ty’s heart beat slightly faster, “I’ve heard of that...never had it.”

“Well, uh...it’s chewy..”

He never thought he would be comparing liquorice to someone’s hair. Demitri, to him, just looks like one huge bunch of candy rather than anything threatening.

Then, to his surprise, Dem looks at the dread as he plays with it and then chews it briefly. He hums thoughtfully. “Huh...yep, I’d say it’s accurate..” He remarks as if he made a discovery.

“Did you just chew on your hair?” Ty asks with a mix of confusion and disbelief in his face.

“I was just testing it..” Demitri shrugs again, sounding as cool as ever.

Nodding slowly, Ty glances into the water again as he starts to quietly braid his long hair to keep his hands busy. His spear is beside him in the grass and he hasn’t touched it; a good sign that he feels relatively safe around him. As he looks back to meet his gaze through the quiet moment he notices that his pink eyes have traced down to his chest in order to catch his Sin. Ty’s brand is uncommon - or at least he thinks it is because he hasn’t seen any other demons with the same one - yet it can still be read. He covers it subconsciously and looks away.

“Manslaughter...” He says quietly, again just loud enough to be heard. Ty looks up at him with anxious eyes and notices that Demitri’s sin is covered by his hair. “What about you..? Lemme guess, yours is some type of murder, you look the type for it.”

“Heh...I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment.” Demitri replies, tilting his head as he sweeps the hair over his shoulder and reveals the brand of a thief.

“Huh...that’s surprising,” He’s full of surprises, isn’t he? “What’cha steal? A girl’s heart?” Ty brings his knees closer to his chest as he picks up his spear and sharpens the head with a small stone.

“Actually...flowers to his heart,” Demitri replies softly, his gaze settling on the waters as his tail gently swishes beneath it, making little whirlpools. Ty stops and looks at him as he smiles to himself.

His heart. His. He doesn’t know why he’s focusing on that - the fact Demitri’s sweetheart is a male. He shouldn’t be. It’s morbid. It’s inconsiderate of him. It’s pointless. He needs to get it out his head immediately but his thoughts just aren’t listening. He can’t do it. He shouldn’t. Not after what happened.

The thought that he might just have a chance- Shut up!

This demon is just someone who’s kind and smiley. Ty needs to stop his mind from leaning towards kindness because it is either fake, forgettable or will end in pain. He’s not anything special and he will forget about him when he leaves. That’s all he is.

“...Romantic,” Ty responds with, keeping his eyes on his weapon. His claw is digging into his palm every time he merely glances in his direction as if he’s trying to punish himself for thinking.

“He thought it was...” He sighs quietly, his eyes cloudy with reminiscence. Another few seconds creep by and Ty notices his smile fade for a moment as he looks into the waters like the nostalgia suddenly turned dark. But then he blinks and looks back up at him with yet another smile. “I bet you do that stuff all the time, I can tell. You really make the demons drop for ya.” That smile widens into a grin and he winks playfully.

Tyrell immediately tenses and averts his gaze again as fast as he can.

“Flowers..? Are you trying to make me fall for you more?” Julius had giggled.

“Nah, they just matched your eyes!”

“You’re such a moron! Alright, here: I love you too, moron!”

“That’s ‘cause they don’t see what I hide!” He snaps suddenly, tossing the rock into the water to release the sudden sense of anger. Ty growls as it plops into the water, discarding his spear beside him and tugging his cloak back round himself which, in doing so, unties the loose braid in his hair. “Idiot!”

“Apologies...I hit a nerve,” He holds up his hand to indicate a truce. His hands are large yet they hold the lines of magic and aren’t worn from weapon handling. He’s one big softie. Demitri’s eyes glance at Ty’s hair and he blinks before speaking genuinely. “Oh, your hair fell out...would you like help with that plait again?”

“I-I mean...you can try...” He’s bewildered all over again so, to try and grasp his pride again, he turns to an insult, “I doubt your hands will be able to do much...” But none the less, he nods.

“Oh, you’ll be surprised what these hands do...” Another wink as he gets up onto his knees and gestures him to come closer. He’s flirting. He’s flirting! 

Ty gulps, bowing his head to hide his face as he flips him off but still sits in front of him none the less. “If your hands go anywhere other than my hair my spear is going straight through your neck!”

Demitri makes a cross over his heart with a chuckle. “Promise.”

He then kneels closer and his hands trace through his hair as gentle as can be. Dem wasn’t wrong, his touch is calming and it’s making the scarred demon want to eat his own words. Ty falls completely silent, keeping his eyes down at the water gently lapping in front of them as his face burns as bright as a cherry. Tingles are running down his neck and his body relaxes in response but he still refuses to admit he’s enjoying it. At that moment he realises that he’s touch-starved. Because he is starting to like the feeling of his hair being played with and there isn’t even a speck of tension in the atmosphere. It’s been so long since anyone has touched him without violent intentions, he cannot remember the last time he made contact with someone or been hugged. Demitri is making everything so relaxed and he doesn’t know why but he doesn’t want this moment to end.

“You have nice hair,” Dem mentions as he braids a French plait through Ty’s hair, ties it with a hairband and sets it on his shoulder when he’s finished. “Thank you for letting me assist you.”

Then his hands lift from his hair and Ty gulps, giving an embarrassed nod and inspecting the braid behind the other, still-loose, strands. It is well braided and neat, more so than he could have done on his own. He’s avoiding eye contact like the plague and is already fiddling with his hair as he tries to tackle down the words asking for him to braid it again from being said. As a result, he stammers and scowls with shaky hands. His heart is hammering out his chest. Why is he so charming!?

Now overly-flustered and emotional, Ty shoves him into the water to escape the thousands of emotions that are burning into his chest. Dem falls tiredly into the water with no fight and simply floats on the surface calmly. He looks more confused if anything as if he is realising what is happening. The demon looks at Ty with a perplexed expression as he floats on the water before smiling again.

“If you wanted a swim you could’ve just asked,” He says as he kindly holds out his hand.

“Th-That wasn’t supposed to be for fun, asshole!” He exclaims, now in a panic as his face flusters beyond hiding. He kicks a pebble into the waters, completely humiliated with himself and his own actions. “Stop being charming- I mean - y-you-... I’m gonna drown you..!”

“I think I need to be under the water for that.” He replies simply as if pondering it. His lack of anger towards Ty is too much - it feels like he could do anything to him and he’d just smile and continue to be calm. He’s such a squishy, chilled idiot that it’s infuriating... He thinks.

Wrapping his arms around himself, he gulps. “Umm...” He’s lost for words. His own tail is swishing back and forth as he thinks through everything. Ty needs to calm down, he’s too riled up and it is making him flustered. As he bites the side of his mouth and scratches the back of his neck he takes a deep breath. “S-Shut up...”

Demitri takes the chance to smirk again and stretches out before offering his hand again for Tyrell to take. Subconsciously, he starts to reach out to take it but the memory of Julius strikes his mind and he freezes, quickly retracting it and balling his hands into fists as he looks away.

Not planning on pestering him, Demitri swims deeper into the pool and looks back at him. “Join me when you like.” He says before diving beneath the cool waters. He’s gone for quite a while to the point where Ty grows concerned for him and cautious.

“H-Hey!” He calls out. “You better come back up or I’ll dive down and get you!”

He waits for another moment in case he rises again but there’s no sign of him at all which makes him scowl with worry. Ty removes his cloak from his shoulders and makes the effort of folding it beside his spear before stepping anxiously into the water; shivering from the cold. The scarred demon swims further into the pool, looking and listening for any movements.

Before he can dive down after him there is a sudden blotch of rippling pink and before he knows it Demitri bursts from the waters, breathing heavily and laughing as water deluges Ty who - in terror - strikes him in the shoulder with a holler. “AGH- What the hell?! What’s wrong with you, I could’ve hurt you!” Ty cries.

The pink demon flinches as he splashes back into the waters, shaking out his thick hair and then rubbing the spot where he was hit. He chuckles, still.

“Sorry...my bad, won’t happen again...”

“Just... don’t sneak up on me...” Ty mutters, wading in the waters slowly and ensuring that the right side of his face isn’t shown. He’s already risking a lot by revealing the scars on his torso and the torn remnants of his wings he just prays that Demitri won’t question it. He doesn’t want this soft idiot to be a questioner.

He nods understandably and lets them simmer in the quiet for a moment. “The water is great though!” He then says once the tension lowers, “I like it here..”

“Sure...I guess it is...it’s quiet.”

The scarred demon soon grows tired of wading and paddles over to the rocks, stopping to pick a few water lotus from the lily pads and smell them quietly. Flowers always grow sweeter here. He finds comfort in that, at least.

Leaning over a rock to support himself, Ty starts to pick the petals from the flowers one by one and set them into the waters like little boats battling unexplored oceans. They float peacefully, tinted pink or blue, across the clear waters below. He likes to picture them without a destination - free to travel across the rippling waves with a choice between reaching an unknown place or eventually sinking from the pressure down into the deep unknown below their feet. As he removes the next petal its weaker, velvety surface is torn up the side from his own carelessness and he stares at it for a moment. Then, he plucks it off like the others and yet it still somehow manages to stay intact despite the wound. Upon being set in the water, it drifts forwards as peacefully as the others. But it’s not the same.

Almost out of spite, Ty then reaches over and presses his finger into the damaged petal so the water engulfs it and it sinks below the rippling surface; distorted and warped. It sinks downwards into the darkness, a penny of pink to a speck to nothing. The damaged will never survive in a world without a destination.

Demitri is looking at him. 

By now he has seen them - his scars - and his eyes were observing like everyone else would which makes Ty start to close up again. His scars are jagged, disgusting and ugly in harsh pink tones because he had no help, he was left to die and now he’s left with a constant, painful reminder that he’ll never be intact again! 

Demitri swims gently through the waters and his presence knocks the intact petals but does not make them capsize. Dem stops beside him and leans back on a rock with a kind smile. “May I ask..?” 

No. Don’t ask about them. Please don’t ask about them. Please. His mind is racing again, he doesn’t want to talk about them and he doesn’t know how to. He doesn’t know what thoughts are the correct ones.

“What era are you from?”

Hearing that is like a wave that rushes over him and soaks him in cold relief. Tyrell sighs deeply and glances at him with a shaking hand as he lifts himself up onto the rock and sits down.

“Oh...I can’t remember...” He replies honestly, still sad to speak of it, “I’m really not sure; it’s such a big blur...I can remember bards and wagons and tithings but that’s about it. Pathetic, I know...”

“It’s not pathetic...” Demitri says, tilting his head, “Sometimes I forget things.”

“Heh...so what about you?”

“Oh, I’m young...only a couple hundred years, I think,” Demitri stands up in the water so it wades around his waist, he stretches out his strong arms again as water causes his muscles to glisten. “I’m a bub compared to a lot of others here.”

No wonder he’s a big softie. He’s young, he’s still oblivious to quite a few things that happen down here. It’s adorable. Such a big guy but with such a young age compared to Ty. Though his memory is broken beyond repair he can still grasp the basics of his age. He is pretty sure he is around 1,600 - possibly a little older. It’s strangely cute that Demitri’s age is perhaps an eighth of his.

“Aww..how cute,” He says with a tone of playfulness, raising one shoulder as he leans back on his hand. Then he thinks - usually young demons group up together in order to create strength in numbers. “You part of any groups or clans?”

“No.. I don’t like to be tied down...I let the wind take me where ever, you know?” Dem comes close and leans forwards about a foot away from Ty, who gulps nervously.

“Y-Yeah, I guess...?” He responds questionably before shrugging. “Kinda admirable. Clans just get in the way of everything,” He sneers at the thought of it. “Anyway - you seem like the type who can fend for himself. If you didn’t have all that muscle you’d be more of a marshmallow than anything.” To his own surprise, he laughs and playfully whacks his arm with the back of his hand.

Demitri laughs along with him and grins merrily as his cheeks dust lilac softly. “I’m pretty marshmallow-y anyway,” He prods himself to prove this, “I’ve been told I give great hugs and hey...didn’t know you had such a cute laugh, heh..”

For once, Ty doesn’t kick or punch him in embarrassment but instead bows his head behind his hair to hide the shaky smile playing on his lips.

Demitri sits beside him and continues to smile, his cheeks remain the dusted colour of pastel lavender as his confidence seems to rise. “Now what I don’t understand is why you want to hide that face with hair... sure, it’s amazing hair...” He says as he gently brushes the strand aside so he can see Ty’s face - his hand is lingering. “But that’s an amazing face.”

Immediately Tyrell tenses and chokes up on his words. The thoughts are back, buzzing and stinging his mind with images of the incident. So he looks away quickly and shakes his head. “Yeah yeah, well you wouldn’t like the other half. Now quit with that charm!”

“Can’t. Doesn’t turn off,” He shrugs and looks down at him, “And if its anything like the other half I think I’ll like it.”

“It’s not, you won’t like it and you can fight me over that!” He frowns stubbornly, pulling the strand back over his face.

Demitri stands once again and holds his arms to the side of him as he walks back onto land. “I guess you’re just gonna have to then.” He’s smirking again.

“W-What?”

“You heard me, come on,”

“Excuse me?” Ty stands up on the rocks and leaps onto the grass before folding his arms. “That wasn’t supposed to be taken literally you moron,” None the less, he finds himself agreeing to it and shrugs. “Lemme guess, if you win I gotta show you the other side of my face?”

Dem nods, not losing that kind smile as he rolls his shoulders. “Sure. What if you win?”

Ty retrieves his spear with a neutral expression and checks the sharp point, deciding to leave the cloak so it does not slow him down. He thinks for a moment, his mind overcoming him with curiosity. “If I win - and if it doesn’t make you freak out or whatever - you tell me what made you a demon?”

For a moment, Dem’s eyes fill with emotion and he tilts his head again as he blinks. “Well, that’s not exactly fair...” He cracks his knuckles, “But if you insist...”

“Never mind, never mind,” Ty waves his hand dismissively, not wanting to see him upset, and instead asks jokingly, “How about a kiss?”

“A kiss?” His eyebrows raise and his cheeks go more purple, “Well, that is fairer I suppose,” He shrugs as he cracks his neck and looks forwards. All of a sudden, a pair of wings open from his back with a wingspan no doubt at least four metres in total, “First on his back?”

Why did you suggest that?! His mind yells to itself, What if you do win?! You can’t kiss him, he’s a weirdo!

He nods and frowns at the sight of the large wings. Yet another surprise. “Oh great, you can fly! This is not fair!” Ty flips his spear to the butt end and breaks the ice by running at him.

Before he can land a hit, however, Demitri suddenly dodges sharply; his speed not matching his frame. He lets out a chuckle as his wings shrink back into his back, disappearing. “You’re right, but isn’t this a little unfair, too?” He places his finger on the tip of his spear as he looks into his eyes.

“Ugh - it’s not like I’ll stab you!” Tyrell scoffs and rolls his eyes but obliges and tosses it aside as he rolls his shoulders. “But fine. Happy now?” Before giving him a chance to respond the scarred demon runs at him again, this time swiping his foot under his ankle in attempts to knock him off his feet.

Immediately, Demitri jumps forwards and lands on his hand, using it to swiftly launch himself forwards and back onto his feet behind Ty as his large tail follows through to knock him down. Tyrell notices the blur of pink in the corner of his eye and vaults over the tail with equal amounts of agility as Demitri. He then twists around and grabs the large tail in his hands, tugging it as hard as he can in order to throw him off his feet.

Dem lets out a gasp as he tugged, turning towards him and stumbling closer in bewilderment as he whips his tail away and jumps backwards to prevent Ty from tackling him. When the scarred demon notices Dem’s cheeks flush bright purple he realises what had happened and his own face burns.

“H-Heh...that was new.”

“O-Oh god, that was not intentional!” Ty exclaims, humiliated.

“No, it’s okay... at least now I know.” Demitri shrugs and looks back at him. After a few seconds, he takes advantage of the situation and launches at Ty again to tackle him.

Tyrell takes longer to respond to the attack this time and blinks in surprise when he sees the demon charging at him. They make contact and he latches onto his strong arm, using it as a step to hoist himself up onto Dem’s shoulder and leap across. Suddenly, the pink demon catches his arm and tugs him back so he stumbles and twists his arm against his back to pin him, his breath against Ty’s neck.

It’s not Kyle. Ty tells himself, It’s not Kyle. Calm down.

“You’re not trying very hard...” Dem says. Ty grits his teeth, his breath shaky and his face completely red. His head is jumbled, horribly flustered and embarrassed and at this point, it’s making him uncoordinated. 

“W-What the hell am I supposed to do, then!?” He struggles in his grasp before thinking for a solution. When he feels Demitri begin to move to throw him down, he jumps upwards and swings his foot straight into his head. The demon makes a grunt and releases him, staggering and almost falling off his feet but regains it due to his tail.

Ty is breathing heavily as he also stumbles back and has to force his own brain to believe that the person in front of him is not Kyle. He can’t blame Demitri because he didn’t know. 

Mad due to his buzzing thoughts and emotions, Ty makes one final lunge at him to end the spar and tackle him with all his strength. Wait- If I win then that means he has to kiss me... He then realises and, because of that image in his head, it knocks him off guard.

Demitri ducks under his grasp and grabs him by his legs effortlessly, causing him to yelp and jolt forwards. Dem looks up into his marigold eyes for a short yet meaningful moment and blinks as if something just sparked within him whilst he starts to move again. A frown furrows on his brow as he makes the motion to slam him down and Ty holds his breath, trying to prepare for the pain in his scars. Yet his entire demeanour changes at that moment and the force abruptly stops. Instead, he holds him and gently places his back on the soft grass.

“Gotcha.” He grins again, the lightness returning to his face.

Ty can only stare at him for the first few seconds, blinking in stunned silence. Why did his eyes shift like that? Did he really pity his scars that much?

“That was not fair!” He stammers eventually, sitting up in a daze, “You’re twice the size of me!” Then he sighs, secretly thankful that Demitri didn’t slam him down because it would’ve no doubt made him shut down on himself from the pain. Still, he smiles and looks up through his hair as he playfully punches him in the shoulder. “Well played.”

“Hey now, you’re the one who suggested it,” Demitri rubs his arm with a chuckle and hands him his cloak, “Now c’mon, pay up.”

“I did not!” Ty huffs dramatically as he clips it around his shoulders and crosses his legs, sitting in front of the kneeling demon. He rolls his eyes, a nervous flutter in his chest as he raises his hand to his fringe. “Ugh...alright. But it's not pretty... wouldn’t be surprised if it scared you off, but here.” 

With a deep breath, he tucks his dark fringe behind his drooping ear and reveals the right side of his face. From his right temple to just above his lip and across to his nose had been burned away, leaving raw, ugly pink scarring, tight and shiny. His damaged right eye was slightly stretched out of shape from the damage and left crimson red with a milky white iris. His eyebrow and eyelashes had been burned away, leaving behind nothing but an ugly mess. It made him want to cry.

“There. Happy now..?” He chokes out, looking down at the grass; too ashamed to view his reaction.

“Woah...” Demitri stares, tilting his head and looking deeply into his eyes as he leans closer. “Pretty...”

“P-Pretty..?!” Ty echoes with a stammer, his fists clenching as he sits up straight, “I-It’s not pretty! How the hell can you even think it was pretty!?” He makes the move to punch him square in the face but then stops himself and returns his hand to his lap. Demitri doesn’t even flinch, too absorbed in watching him.

“You’re kidding... I’ve never met anyone with eyes like this...how unique.” He mumbles airily, still leaning ever closer.

Ty is going to cry. He’s such an idiot, he has to be lying to him. He’s just a doped up idiot, this doesn’t mean anything to him. He’s just an idiot. That’s all he is.

“O-Okay...” Ty goes hoarse with emotion and nods, having to clear his throat and gulp before he can notice. There’s a warmth in his chest. It sparked up like a firework and is melting across him as thick as honey.

Demitri smiles, still lost in staring and so close that he’s only a few inches from his face now - completely absorbed.

“Why are you sitting so close..?” His tone is nervous, flustered.

The pink demon blinks as if he’s snapping back into reality and sits back, purple quickly rising across his cheeks and along his nose, glowing in pastel lavender. “O-Oh..apologies, I guess I just got lost...heh.” 

“Should’ve got a map, then..” Ty retorts nervously, quickly shaking his fringe back over his eye to Demitri’s disappointment. There’s a moment of silence where they both just glance at each other, thoughts in their own minds that question the unspoken spark. He’s the first one to break the silence. “I...I should probably head off...lack of sleep is getting to me...”

Demitri then looks even more disappointed, his expression drooping. “Aw...really? So soon?” He speaks with a saddened tone as he looks up at him and, for once, his smile doesn’t look genuine. Ty hates it.

“W-Well...I’m tired and I don’t want anyone to kill me when I’m sleeping.” He replies quietly.

“Oh...” Demitri looks down, saddened, and then thinks before looking back up at him, “Then...how about I watch over you?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah! I like, never sleep so I’d be the perfect bodyguard...” He smiles again, looking hopeful.

“I mean...I guess if you want...” The scarred demon responds gingerly, looking at him with slight concern. He doesn’t sleep? That can’t be healthy...I guess it explains the eye bags, at least... “Are you sure not sleeping is healthy? Doing that will mess with your head.”

Demitri gives him an unknowing smile - like there was something Ty didn’t know. “Heh, you worry wart... don’t worry. I haven’t slept in 300 years and counting.”

Why is he proud of that?! Ty questions in his head, That just makes it worse! Why is he smiling like that!? UGH- I hate this idiot!

“Just..look after yourself,” He mutters, standing up and picking up his spear, “Don’t be stupid or anything.”

He does a mock salute and smiles warmly at him as he walks over to the large tree beneath the stars and finds a spot between two large roots which he huddles into. Demitri leaps up onto a low branch above him and smiles down at him as he leans back on the trunk. “Sleep well...”

Tyrell hums in response as he closes his eyes and holds his spear close to his chest out of habit. His eyes grow heavy after only a minute and his thoughts start to drift outwards into a calming ocean. A lake surrounded by pine trees and a range of mountains behind it with him sitting upon a rock looking out at it all but now there’s someone beside him.

Barely aware of what he’s doing because he’s lost in that dream, Ty’s eyes slip open ever so slightly. “If you see a demon with icy skin...” He murmurs, just loud enough to hear, “Please don’t let him find me...” Then he slips asleep, unaware that he ever spoke.

“No one’s touching you whilst I’m here...” Demitri replies a few moments later, looking out onto the Oasis as he watches over him protectively.

.

Howdy! This is rather long.

If you made it to the end then I hope you enjoyed it! This was just a fun little one shot of how Tymitri met that I’ve been doing in my free time to relax from intense studying.

I enjoyed writing this and it’s very cute - a contrast to the Tyan universe lmao.

Big thanks to Mona for always letting me use Demitri without me asking! You can’t blame me, he’s an adorable marshmallow!

Please excuse any mistakes, my brain has been running like jelly for the past week and I’m only like one fifth into exams. Kill me. I shall fix them later, as I always say.

Anyhow, hope you liked these two gays being confused at each other! <3

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

12 Hours. (Part Two)

Welcome.                Part One.

This story contains blood, murder and quite a bit of violent angst.

This particular part contains kidnap. Be cautious when reading if you are sensitive.

.

Clyde was organising the shelves within the medical office. Tuesdays were days he dedicated to cleaning his work space and being a member of the medical team who dealt with horrid injuries almost daily made it useful. By the following week the office would be littered with files, coffee mugs and the odd tool that their tired eyes couldn’t spot at first. He has such a system of cleaning that he is barely aware of it and those who work with him know it by heart so it is not very difficult to find things.

Outside was pouring with rain but he didn’t mind, it meant that the flowers in the facility garden would be watered and seeing them lush with life would make Anthony happy. Anthony is a very fragile being who suffers with dangerous depression and anxiety after the murders of his family members, he found comfort in plants and enjoys watching them grow with his partner, Theo. Clyde looks after him as his main doctor for the occasions Theo brings him in after he harmed himself or to act as emotional support.

He is replacing each binder in alphabetical order when his colleague, Levi enters with a glass of water.

“Your medication is in your top drawer, Levi,” Clyde says. It is currently noon and the older doctor takes medication to keep his various burdens stable.

“I know,” He replies, opening his drawer and taking out the red bottle of medication.

“Is your back hurting again?” Clyde questions, eyeing his downgraded posture, “You need to talk to Sage.”

“I’m not bothering him about it, he’s still getting used to his new arm,” Levi replies, quickly swallowing the pills and the rest of the water.

“Yes but I’m sure seeing you in pain won’t make him feel better,”

“I’m always in pain, Clyde. The only reason I have not wasted away is thanks to these damn pills,” He scoffs at it, discarding the plastic bottle back into the drawer and pushing it shut. “Just stay out of it, you do not have to stick your nose into everything.”

The doctor defers and turns away, not saying another word since it isn’t worth getting into a battle of wit against Levi. He can’t blame his demeanour, however, since he’s got a lot on his plate. With Sage losing his arm and caring for his adopted son with autism as well as all of his own emotional and physical turmoil it must be incredibly difficult. Clyde has tried connecting to Levi but it was always the same results, either being ignored or grunted at.

Clyde still remembers what he had said the day he tried again to bond with Levi and he knew he stepped over a line when he asked what had given him the artificial organs. It was a pause and a cold glare through his different coloured eyes.

“You know what, Clyde? Why don’t you stay out of my past, it’s got nothing to do with you and I’m sick of you trying to stick your nose into my life. It’s such a waste that such a great mind is so intrusive but I suppose that can be expected, the intelligent are usually nosy prats! When it comes down to it, I don’t consider you my friend so giving on trying to create something between us because all you are to me is a colleague. Because if I had to make a choice between you and my own life I’d choose my own. I’d never put my life on the line for you.”

After that he left him alone.

When he comes out of the daze he realises Levi has disappeared again and he sighs, finishing with his cleaning. He reaches the windowsill, noticing that the potted flowers are starting to go white at the stems. A small bunch of calia lilies that he had placed there. They must not be getting enough sunlight. Clyde is done cleaning the office so he picks up the pot, intending to replant them in the garden and perhaps replace the blank spaces with succulents. 

He makes his way down the halls and staircases of the facility, past the offices and the security cameras, to the gardens. Clyde opens the door with his ID and steps out into the rain, not planning on replanting the flowers at this moment due to the rain but leaving them in a place where he or Anthony will notice so he doesn’t forget. The doctor sets the plant on the garden work desk and hurries under the overhang again, he’s just about to head indoors again when he hears a groan of pain.

His eyebrow raises and he turns back slowly. “Hello..?” He asks loudly, stepping out into the rain again across a flower bed and creating footprints. There’s another groan from around the corner of the building and he raises his eyebrow in curiosity. It doesn’t sound like anyone he knows... perhaps another werewolf was left here?

When he turns the corner, his hands are cupped at his chest with concern and he looks around for any sign of the host of the pained noises. However, strangely, he finds no sight of a person nor any sign of injury. It isn’t until he hears the footfalls of someone who had clearly climbed on top of the overhang whilst he was walking and dropped behind him when he realises that it is too late. Clyde is grabbed harshly with one arm whilst a rag is smothered against his nose and mouth, muffling his inevitable shriek. 

He struggles and cries in terror, his hands grabbing onto the attacker’s wrists in attempts to pry it off as a sweet chemical floods into his lungs and through his head like cold water. Thrashing is fruitless because the attacker’s grip is like steel and every angle he moves his head to try and escape the rag only results in it being pressed harder into his face. His desire for air only inhales more of the drug as his legs collapse on themselves and he falls back on the attacker, who he can hear is shushing him eerily. 

Clyde’s cries start to weaken as his eyes fall heavy and the chemical numbs his entire body in a matter of seconds. His hands drop from the wrists of the unknown attacker as he starts to droop. Time disappears in that moment and he’s not sure what is happening anymore but he knows he’s lying against someone and he cannot feel the rain anymore. His vision hazes. He feels like he’s falling...falling down into warm liquid. In one last attempt to escape he tries to reach for his phone but he’s not sure if he even moved his arm. His last thought is about the worry he’ll cause Lucas before he slips under that feeling of warm liquid and his eyes shut.

.

His mind was foggy.

Awakening felt like his head had been released from a vice clamped around his skull and he takes a very choked, gulping breath that makes his head thump from the sudden oxygen. He groans. It took a lot of effort to come to his senses at first. He could smell wet metal, mould and stone which burnt his lungs when he inhaled. There was an ache in his neck as his head lolls drearily. 

The ringing in his ears dies down and he can hear a distant dripping of broken pipes and the menacing rumble of a generator or a boiler. His lungs felt numb and goosebumps were prickled all across his cold skin. Clyde could only hear his breathing.

First he tries to move but he can’t. At first he thought he was too numb to so he waited until the pins and needles settled before trying to move. This time he feels the tight bindings of rope tying his wrists to the arms of a chair judging by his position and his breath hitches. Clyde tries to move his legs to find that they are also bound to what can only be the legs of the chair. He tries to lick his lips but he realises that he’s been gagged and that’s when the panic sets in.

It takes a tremendous amount of will power but the doctor opens his heavy eyes and lets them adjust. Clyde observes his wrists. He’s been stripped down shirtless with no shoes and layers of what seems to be climbing rope around his wrists, ensuring there’s no way it can be frayed or snapped. Trying to control his breathing is almost impossible as that fear sets in. He lifts his swirling head to look at his surroundings, trying his best to cry for help but his voice provided no sound besides whimpers.

He’s not sure what day it is. There’s no windows. He’s located in what looks to be in a basement. It’s so cold. There are rusted bronze pipes lining the walls which are the culprit of the dripping sound. He’s not sure what time it is. There’s a staircase directly in front of him leading up to a bolted door. There is no light besides a few dim tube lights. In the shadows he can make out some objects; a desk he can presume. There are cobwebs everywhere and a few dead spiders on the ground.

After what he can presume to be a few minutes the door swings open and he starts to cry in fright as three men descend the staircase. He struggles as best he can and squints at the figures as they come into view. He recognises them immediately and that makes him shriek as tears spill down his cheeks.

Flinar, Zyren and Kaito.

He hasn’t seen much of Kaito but he’s seen his profiles. A stern face with messily tied back blue hair in a short pony tail, cold purple eyes and pale skin. He’s built up from clear training, his hands having held countless weapons and clenched around steering wheels of the get away vehicles he drives.Yet he slouches and looks displeased at the sight of him, stepping back and letting Flin take his place. He’s holding a camera connected to a tripod in one hand with a laptop in the other, linked through a cable that makes Clyde’s heart sink.

“Zy, look! He’s crying already!” Flin exclaims excitedly, roughly grabbing his face and staring into his fearful eyes. “I love the ones that cry...”

His partner lights a cigarette and grunts in response, glaring at Clyde with a stare colder than the room. Zyren takes a drag, exhaling the smoke with that apathetic expression. “Do not try and escape. Even if you could get out of those binds you won’t make it out this room.” He says with no emotion.

“We’ve got twenty five people guarding outside!” Flin adds, grinning sadistically at the trembling doctor as he speaks, “We were originally gonna stick you in our basement but we didn’t want our location being discovered so we brought you to a place no one is gonna find you! You can scream all you want but ain’t no body gonna hear you!”

Clyde struggles again, his limbs aching painfully from the tight confinements. Fear is clawing down his cold skin as he breaks out in a sweat, his head still swirling from the chloroform. He’s whimpering and crying as Flin tugs at his turquoise hair roughly. Kaito sets up the camera, setting up the laptop on a metal stool with a frown on his face. After setting it up and he leans against the staircase banister and waits to press record.

Zyren finishes his cigarette at a slow pace, letting his partner have his fill of taunting and prodding their victim then, like a well trained dog, backs off when Zy approaches. He puts out his cigarette on Clyde’s arm, letting him cry and struggle in pain as a pink burn arose at his pale skin alongside the hiss. He flicks the butt away and grabs Clyde by their hair so his face can be shown clearly, with one glance at Flin his lover positions himself opposite, giggling feverishly.

“Now.” The elf orders apathetically and Kaito nods.

.

It’s been hours.

Clyde hasn’t been seen and any attempted calls go straight to voicemail. Even his GPS isn’t responding.

“The security cameras are being slow...” Austin, Lucas’ brother, says. “He was cleaning the office and was seen with potted flowers down the main hall a few minutes after noon. The last sight of him is him using his ID to go outside.”

He shows the footage accordingly to Lucas, who was worried beyond comprehension. A frown has furrowed on his face and his fingers are constantly tapping the desk or whatever surface he rests his worn hands on. 

Austin was the facility’s classic code breaker. He was knowledgeable and funny to those who knew him, wearing a woollen hat from his childhood he keeps for comfort. To strangers, however, he was a tired loner who’s diet consisted of protein shakes, water and the odd ray of sunlight that poked through the blinds. He stayed shut in his office when he wasn’t at home, tinkering with machinery and codes. He is in charge of the security system and had access to almost all files across the country as well as all of the locations of his co-workers. Except Clyde’s. 

“What about into the garden?” Lucas asks, his brain beginning to panic. Clyde was his biggest source of joy, he loved him more than anything and thought of him missing or in danger was starting to make him break down. Being the leader of such a large organisation, however, forced him to keep on a mask of calmness.

“Like I said...the outdoor cameras are being slow and they won’t load.”

“Why?” Lucas questions a little too quickly.

“I dunno,” Austin says, stretching in his chair, “Give it a few minutes. It’s almost done loading.”

Lucas starts to pace back and forth, calling Clyde for the countless time and biting down on his nail as he walks. Straight to voicemail. He leaves another message.

Then, a tab opens suddenly on his laptop - which he left on Austin’s sofa - with a loading bar. At the same time the outdoor camera footage pops up on screen as Lucas picks up the laptop and clicks at the tab. He cannot exit it nor can he edit it in any way. A sense of dread starts to overwhelm him.

Austin, chewing on the string of his hat, opens the footage to the current time. “Well, there’s the flowers he had,” He points to the screen and Lucas peers at it, “There’s just footprints in the soil...”

“Rewind it,” Lucas demands desperately as the loading bar progresses. Austin nods, rewinding it back to the exact time Clyde went outside. 

There’s a surge of movement that makes their stomachs flip as the leader sets his laptop upon the desk and leans closer as Austin plays it once more.

Clyde is seen exiting the facility with his ID as he carries the lilies in his arms. He walks under the overhang and sets them on the work desk he and Anthony use when they are gardening. He goes to turn back around when they notice a figure stood round the corner who had obviously made a noise that caught his attention. The doctor stepped out into the rain across the flowerbed and in that time the figure leaps up onto the overhang and drops behind him. They attack him with what can only be chloroform and Lucas’ hand clenches around Austin’s chair so hard he tears into it.

“O-Oh my god...” Austin stammers, stunned to silence as he watches Clyde stop struggling and fall into the grey elf, who picks him up and runs out of sight of the  facility cameras. On the road camera, however, a get away van speeds dangerously down the street and a random dog walker recoils in fright. Austin manages to pause it just before the van doors slam shut on the last frame. Kaito is driving intensely with Flinar and Zyren in the back as they throw Clyde into the van. “Oh fuck... no- it’s Flinar and Zyren-!”

As if summoned, the tab’s loading bar flashes with completion and a video begins to play that makes Lucas feel like his heart has been torn straight from his chest.

The first sound they hear is Clyde crying in terror and the brothers have to force their eyes onto the screen. What they see curdles their blood. The doctor, fastened to a wooden chair with rope, stripped shirtless, gagged and unspeakable panic in his watery eyes as he struggles to calm down. The couple are either side of them with no change in their demeanour since Flin is giggling and tugging at his hair as Zyren stands straight with no emotion on his face as he lights a cigarette.

“C-Clyde..” Lucas whispers in horror, his tail and ears drooping.

“Howdy!! You miss us?” Flinar asks tauntingly, his eyes wide with sick insanity as he continues to tug at their victim’s hair. “Look what we’ve got! Just a souvenir from your stupid bunch of morons!”

“We have your husband, Lucas,”  Zyren remarks coldly, glancing at Flin to stay quiet - which he does. “If you want him back - alive - you will do exactly as we say.”

“We’re tired of this place, it’s stupid, stupid, stupid!” Flin stamps his foot in agitation, releasing Clyde’s hair and growling. Zyren pauses, then proceeds to pull him by his waist and plant a loving kiss on his cheek to calm him down before letting go again. Flinar regains his bearings and grins again. “We want to get out of this dump and go to a new, better place! You won’t have to deal with us ever again and we won’t have to deal with you!! Doesn’t that sound perfect!? ...But...one tiny problem-”

“What we want is a pardon. For all our crimes,” Zyren orders with a stern glare to the camera, “All of it must be deleted so we may cross the border. In return we will give you back your precious little crybaby, alive. We will only breach his location once you wipe our database and after that, we will be out of your hair. We will automatically see the files - we have our databases.”

“And for every hour you don’t give us what we want...” Flin’s eyes show nothing but cruelty as he then presses his claws into Clyde’s throat, gaining a sob in return. “I’ll make sure you pay for it.”

“We will give you twelve hours,” Zyren speaks clearly, “The sooner you oblige the sooner you can have him back. If you do not fulfil our request in the time given we will send him back to you. But we will make sure that you cannot recognise his corpse,” Clyde wails at that, struggling desperately and crying for help behind the gag, “See? He wants to come home,” The elf grabs him by the chin and forces him to look at the camera, “It is ever so cold down here and my darling has been aching for some bloodshed.”

“A pardon in exchange for your sweetheart, seems fair. Don’t try and find us, either, ‘cause you won’t. And if you do Zy will shoot him in the eye,” Flin shrugs, his spiked tail curling devilishly, “We’ll make sure to send you updates on how he’s doing~”

And with one last cry from Clyde and a psychotic laugh from Flinar, the video shuts off and the pair are left speechless.

Lucas is shaking all over. His breaths are heavy and his eyes are wide with disbelief. It takes him a minute to comprehend that he’s not dreaming and by that time his teeth are clenched and his fists are shaking. 

Then, suddenly, the rage strikes him like a tsunami and Austin’s cup of tea is thrown at the wall with such force that the pieces go flying in all directions across the room and a crack is left in the wall. 

“Track them...” Lucas snarls, his body overcome with fury, “TRACK THEM!”

Austin nods, bewildered and spends a moment trying to reverse the sender address. But then he stops. “I can’t...” He says, horrified, “They’ve got firewalls and security tech that even I can’t breach. I-I could try but it would take hours and-!”

“Do it!” Lucas exclaims, tears running down his cheeks, “Please! Find their location, do it! Try your best, I’m begging you... I can’t lose him!”

“Lucas, please, you’re turning unstable,” Austin stammers, not used to this kind of emergency, “You need to breathe...I’m already working on it...”

Lucas loosens his fists and stares at the laptop. He can’t let those filthy monsters hurt Clyde. Every fibre of his being is telling him to listen to them but he can’t. Despite everything that those two are they are not liars; especially not Zyren. He knows what lengths they’ll go to.

If he listens and lets them out of the country then that would lead to worldwide backlash on his shoulders. Letting them into a country where he has no power would put the facility in danger. Every other country is no where near as experienced for that couple as they are, they wouldn’t be able to cope with them running loose with no knowledge on their weaknesses. If their database were gone they would be off the grid, there would be no way of other countries knowing what to prepare for and how to help the innocent people they would inevitably slaughter escape. That kind of power into Zyren’s hands would be catastrophic. The world would riot against them violently and it wouldn’t be just them at risk. If Lucas listened then it would be trading the lives of entire family, his friends, thousands of innocent people and ultimately Clyde in exchange for the most dangerous people in the country to roam free.

His mind is racing. He is stuck.

There’s no escape from this. Lucas can’t run away.

He has to break their cycle. He refuses to let Clyde be taken from him and he refuses to put the lives of everyone else in danger.

“Track their location. I don’t care what it takes,” He says coldly, breathing deeply, “I’ll crush those fuckers’ skulls myself if they lay another finger on him.”

.

Silver’s characters are very fun to write.

It’s a good sense of release for me since I’m current;y in exam season and am doing this between study time and art-block! Hopefully this turned out okay, I know it is a lot longer and, unfortunately, Read More tabs are back to being broken again so whoop-de-doo. Sorry to anyone scrolling by!

The next part will contain very angst-ridden and gruesome writing so only read on if you are okay will reading that!

See you later! <3

Part Three

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

12 Hours. (Part One)

Welcome.

This story contains blood, murder and quite a bit of violent angst.

This particular part contains mentions of said violence.

The weather was dreary. Droplets raced down the glass and his eyes followed them sporadically whizz from left to right until they disappear into the windowsill. Flinar had always pictured it as a thousand angels weeping from the clouds with anguish towards a terrible world below. That image, delirious as it was, amused him.

The sky outside was a deep, moody grey and the trees outside swayed violently to and fro. Inside the house was warm and quiet. He enjoyed the contrast. It reminded him of his own mind.

The demon was hunched up on the windowsill by the sofa. He was located in the living room where he spent most of his days if they weren’t in the warehouse or the basement. It was a nice house, he knew that, with soft grey walls and a dark carpet. There were many potted plants and trinkets to decorate the place. Sun catchers were hung up on most windows and small sculptures lined the mantle. He lived in an isolated area surrounded by trees and forest and a road out front. No neighbours or dogs barking or too many cars.

The house was clean beyond his comprehension with the carpets vacuumed, cabinets dusted and shelves organised alphabetically. His partner, Zyren, was the culprit behind it and though it calmed his mind it made him feel as though he were living in a doll house or a display.

The clean rooms, however, did nothing to calm the voices.

Stupid. You’re stupid.

Jump out the window. Do it. Do it.

They can see you through the window.

Stupid. Stupid. Pointless and stupid.

They can see you through the window.

Don’t jump out the window. Don’t. Don’t.

Where’s your knife? Did you lose it?

Stupid.

“Flinar.”

Stupid. Stupid.

Don’t listen. Stop listening. Stop.

Stop it.

“Flinar,” Zyren repeats and Flin looks up from his knees, he soon realises that he is clutching his head and groaning which causes his face to burn red. “Medication.”

The Spirit Elf’s apathetic face was looking down at him with pills and a glass of water in his hand. Flinar looks into his face, his spiked tail loosening from around his knees. Zy has a square jaw, his skin is a warm grey with deep crimson eyes. His crimson hair is tied into a bun and he’s wearing a black sleeveless shirt with jeans and the flannel he never lets him wear. His ears have three piercings. The tattoo on his left shoulder still said Eternal with the crescent moon. His eyes were neutral. It’s still the same. That’s good.

Flinar reaches out shakily but the water spills from the glass so Zyren drops the pills into his mouth and tilts the glass against his lips. The demon drinks, shuddering at the pills being washed down. He hates it. 

Honey bee.

Lover. I love you. I love you.

Handsome man.

I’d kill for you.

He grins sadistically, kneeling forwards and wrapping his arms around his partner’s neck. “Can’t I wear your flannel for five minutes?” He purrs.

“No,” Zyren replies as bluntly as ever, “I won’t get it back.”

“Not even if the voices tell you to?”

“No,”

He wraps his tail around Zyren’s waist and plants a loving kiss on his cheek, gaining one in return on his forehead. His partner wraps his strong arms around him and lifts him from the windowsill to sit on the sofa. 

“How’s Kaito been doing? Is he still sulking over the fact I killed that policewomen he was flirting with?” Flinar giggles at the memory of their last heist with a fanged smile. She had screamed so loud he wasn’t sure if it smashed the windows, the way she clutched her abdomen and keeled over was hilarious. He had let her choke spluttered words into her transceiver before he slit her throat and spilt her blood all over that same transceiver. 

Kaito, their crime partner and Zyren’s childhood friend, was also an elf. He was stubborn and egotistical with a bad temper that he takes out on walls and punching bags. He was good at strategy none the less, and was the best get away driver. He was different compared to them since he shot to injure unlike Zyren who would shoot to kill to prevent the risk of witnesses. Flinar killed for the thrill.

“He’s the same,” The elf replies with his empty voice, “He’s been keeping an eye on the facility.”

“Ughh...why can’t they leave us alone, don’t they know that we’re impossible to track?” Flin groans, rolling his eyes. 

“We’re the most dangerous criminals in the country,”

“I know, but it’s just really annoying!!”

“He has to keep an eye on them or they’ll ambush us,” Zyren states, “They’ve got more connections with us, Flinar. We play the game how I say, don’t argue.”

“Why can’t we leave the country?” The insane demon suggests, gripping his partner’s arm and kneeling beside him. He gains a side eye with a mere twitch of his eyebrow as a response, “We have the money. And if anyone stops them we’ll stab them in the eye!”

“We can’t, Flin,”

“But wouldn’t it be fun!?” Flin’s eyes light up and Zy grunts, “Imagine! A new place, a clean slate! We can change our names and live somewhere so isolated that not even the helicopters could track us!”

“It would be a new chance but I thought you enjoyed the crime,”

“I do! But imagine stealing different currency! Robbing people who don’t understand a word you say! Different streets, new banks and stores!” He says dreamily, a large grin on his face, “Don’t you want to walk down the street and not feel like you have to kill every day?”

“Enough with the delusions,” Zyren sighs strictly, taking his hand, “We can’t leave the country. The moment we go near an airport or the border we’ll be arrested and we won’t be put in jail. I’m not risking losing you.”

Flin’s expression falters into a frown and he thinks. “But you would want to go to different country if we could?” He asks with big eyes, hugging his arm.

“I would go anywhere with you,” Zy responds but still holds no emotion, “Where ever you want, whatever you want to do. I’d follow. But don’t be stupid. We can’t do that.”

The demon’s tail flicks from side to side as he thinks, breathing in the scent of his partner before sitting up with bright eyes once more. “Then we’ll have to get pardoned!”

“Pardoned?” Zyren looks over at him, “Flin, enough with this. That’s impossible so sit down, I don’t want these ideas in your head.”

Flinar jumps to his feet, pacing in front of the sofa as he speaks. “If we were pardoned then the police couldn’t touch us as long as we had a clean record until we got out the country! After that we could start over! Maybe we wouldn’t have to kill all the time!”

Zyren folds his arms and leans back with a raised eyebrow. The idea was enticing. The thought of starting afresh was, even for him, rather nice. A new place where no one would run away or knew who they were would be calming. They have enough money in their possession to easily get by and, if they played their cards right, converting it might create a bigger profit. If they picked the right country, that is. But Flinar was being delusional again. Sometimes that happened when he took his medication.

“How would you expect us to get pardoned, Flin?” The elf asks with amusement, wanting to see what ludicrous idea came into his head.

Flinar paced back and forth, gripping at his hair with one hand and biting his nail with the other. He frowns with concentration, his busy mind raking for a solution. Then, finally, he stops and a grin widens on his face. “The facility.”

“The facility?” 

“Think about it!!” Flin was practically bouncing at the idea, “They’re a mafia, they’ve basically got power over everything at this point! They’ve got control over all the police which means they’ve got our database, right!? They could wipe it clean for us! Then we could go somewhere else!”

For once, Zy’s eyebrows raised, impressed. He takes a breath and knocks down the thought with his rational argument.

“Flinar, I’m saying this for the last time,” He sits forwards, staring right into his grey eyes, “We can’t do this. They wouldn’t dream of ever doing that.”

“Well then...we’ll make them do it!” Flinar suggests devilishly.

“Flin-”

“Lucas runs that dump. He’s got the power over it all. We can make him!” He says with a hysteric laugh, clenching his hands into fists with excitement. “He’s got a husband, y’know... we could use him to convince Lucas.”

Zyren stands, looming over him, “First of all, never interrupt me,” He says with authority in his voice and his neutral eyes gazing deep. “Do that again and I won’t listen to you. But alright, fine.”

“Really!?”

“Yes.”

Flinar starts to laugh and squeal, leaping up at Zyren and flinging his arms round him again. The elf wraps his arms around him and kisses his hair, willing to follow along with Flin’s insane idea. It’s been too long since they’ve kidnapped someone. Deep down, he did believe that Lucas deserved some karma for the trouble he’s caused.

A wicked smile curls onto his lips as he grabs a fistful of Flin’s hair and pulls him into a loving kiss with his other arm locked around his waist. The demon kisses back immediately, digging his claws into Zyren’s back and closing his eyes. Soon, they pull back and Flin looks incredibly excited.

“I’ll give Kaito a call,” Zyren remarks, “Go prepare the basement for our guest’s arrival.”

Flinar nods with wide, insane eyes and rushes off with a hoot of triumphant laughter.

.

Whelp. My first story including my own characters. I hope it was alright!

My characters and the universe are rather unique so apologies for that but writing Flinren is very fun considering they’re both utter psychos.

I’m rather ill right now so there may be some errors!

If you’re interested then stay tuned, since there’s going to be 3 - 4 parts. They’ll be very spread out since spare time is scarce but I’ll try to work on it! 

See you later! ^-^

Part Two

[a-sprinkle-of-geeky]

Welcome!

Here I am in another blog that I will dedicate to stories of my own characters. Some stories can’t be expressed through comics and I’ve always wanted to write my own creative worlds!

I know this won’t grab as much of a following as my main account and that’s okay, I love writing none the less!

My stories will include my own characters and some others that belong to my close friends, they will be credited as such when mentioned. If you are interested in them and their own characters then please check them out, I can only write so much of their depth so go see for yourself! They’re amazing people.

The world that I will be using is my own with my own principles, if you wish to learn more then you can follow my Instagram (and here’s a link to the types of demons in my world!)

I also have a Discord that goes into further depth into the universe where you can see my own OCs and make your own, even RP them if you desire! So if you want a link don’t be afraid to DM me!

Read More for some of the characters that I will be writing!

In this modern world, demons and elves live coincide with humans. In the city of Entophia there a mafia. It was created by a group of those who were judged for their sexuality which is, unfortunately, a problem in the world. Though they are given the title of a mafia they are more of an anti-hero group and are now the strongest in the city. They prevent mistreatment of all species for their race, beliefs or sexuality and not afraid to get bloody. They deal with the dangers no one else is willing to touch.

Tyrell - Underworld Version (Ponytail) - The Yang half of a split entity. He is Pride Low Blood with his hair in a long pony tail. He enjoys painting with watercolours and is married to a half demon named Dan. (Belongs to @silverthelynx24 or silver_draws_trash on Insta!) After immense trauma leaving him a memory of his past life, he has developed strength and an impeccable aim.

Tyrell - Our Demons Version (Cloak) - The Yin half of a split entity. Though not in this universe, he belongs in a universe belonging to @forthecrownanimation. He drapes himself in a dark cloak and is incredibly arrogant. His partner goes by the name of Demitri who strangely can’t resist his short-temper. He has a broken memory and cannot express his emotions like his counterpart can, making him one huge tsundere.

Kyle - An insane demon with a mission to kill Tyrell. The culprit behind his many horrid scars and trauma, he seeks to avenge his brother JoJo after Ty had a hand in his “murder”. He will stop at nothing to avenge him.

JoJo - A small, sweet demon with vitiligo who has an eye for shiny things. He was turned feral after he fell, wounded, into an rural area and needed to survive. Though he is autistic and struggles to connect with others, he loves food and giving cuddles.

Clyde - A German doctor with a water element. (yes, developed off Henrik but please don’t compare them!) He is top in his field with a kind, worried heart.

Lucas - (Silver’s!) - The leader of the mafia. His outside demeanour is cold and emotionless apart from his loud orders. However, only to close friends and his husband, Clyde, he is a big sweetheart.

Levi - Another, older and experienced, doctor in the faculty’s medical team. He’s sarcastic and witty whilst taking no nonsense what so ever, with an addiction to smoking. Levi cares for JoJo like a father, studying him and making sure he lives a calm and happy life. He suffers from trauma he refuses to speak of but struggles with a glass heart as well as artificial lungs and throat, metallic chest and a bad back.

Sage - (Silver’s!) - Levi’s soulmate who keeps him grounded and in progress with helping him quit smoking. He’s calm and levelled with an prosthetic arm after an incident with JoJo. Despite this, he’s a very kind man with a passion for his small but lively family.

Flinar and Zyren - Always together, no matter what. This pair are psychotic and incredibly dangerous. They are the faculty’s toughest challenge due to their relentless torture and crime. Flinar is a Wrath demon who suffers from insanity and schizophrenia with a love of blood to calm the voices in his head. Zyren is a cold opposite, he is apathetic who prefers quick, bloodless murder. They are incredibly caring towards one another and cannot handle when the other is wounded. Zyren likes cleaning, puzzles and has a secret love for cats whilst Flin enjoys E-books, cooking, sweets and pain killers.

That’s all for now! I hope you enjoy what’s to come! ^-^