Chapter Text
Alpha POV
There was so much darkness. Echoing, soundless, painless, darkness. I stood in that void, that emptiness, trying to see, hear, smell, feel anything. But I knew it was futile. There was nothing. Nothing at all. I could do nothing against this suffocating silence. Even when I screamed, the sound was swallowed so fast it was as if it never existed. I clawed at my body, but there was only numbness as my arms and legs and chest and face bled into that inky blackness.
But there was something out there. I could feel it. It held me down, locked my feet, made my spine stiffen and gaze sharpen into that void. There was something there. I just couldn’t reach it. And it hurt. It hurt so much.
I’d finally settled into this darkness, it came every night anyways, when the void shifted violently to the left. My stomach rose as I was blinded by a burst of red, and my skull split with a bloodcurdling scream.
___
I bolt upright, my fangs out and hands curled, prepared to blow up any threat. I’ve had that fucking dream for as long as I could remember. But that red… that was new. I cast my crimson gaze around my room, scanning efficiently for any disturbances in the shadows, any sign of the thing that would make the void break like that. But there’s nothing. Everything is in its place, from the thin paperback books to the safety bars across the open windows. A cold breeze blows the heavy curtains inward, bringing a hint of cinnamon from outside into the night blue room. I gulp that scent deep into my lungs, feeling my muscles loosen and fangs retract to my gums, the alpha calming in my blood at the obvious safety.
Whatever had made the void shatter isn’t in the room, obviously. But it still bothers me. I stand slowly, stretching my stiff muscles and popping misused joints back into alignment. It’d been years since anything had intruded on my void dreams, and the last thing that influenced me that badly was the villain attack back in high school. I grimace as the memory rises to the surface of my mind, and walk to the small closet bathroom in one corner of the dorm room.
Bastards thought they could bring a High Alpha into their ranks, especially one as unstable as myself. Oh how wrong they were.
But then All Might had fallen, and I had to admit, I felt myself waver for a moment.
I don’t realize I’d frozen in front of the mirror, my eyes locked with my reflection, as a suffocating feeling takes hold of me. I snarl, my reflections face baring its sharp Alpha Fangs and red eyes narrowing harshly. I rip open the faucets and begin dousing my face in icy water, making sure to wash away my sweet smelling sweat from my temples, along with any stress pheromones that leaked out during the dream. Once I’m sure my face had not so much as a drop of pheromone or sweat left on it, I look back at my reflection. The hollow glaze in my eyes still lingers, but that’s normal after the void dream. Other than that, my face is red from the cold, and my usual scowl looked less forced than it did a moment ago.
Relenting a bit, I let my shoulders droop and head hang a moment. That damn dream. It was always so draining. And it was always so unpredictable. It wasn’t very common, but it still happened at least three times a year, especially during times of stress. I remember the first time it happened. I’d been about four or five, and we’d just gone to the funeral of one of the old hag’s life-long friends. I remember the dark clothing, the quiet weeping, the emptiness in my mother’s usually proud Alpha face. It chilled my very bones.
That night, I was plunged into the darkness, and when I woke up, both my parents were sitting next to me, fear clouding their pheromones. They couldn’t wake me up, even as I screamed like a gutted pig. That was the longest they lasted, a whole week of the void dreams, before they just… stopped. Five months later, my quirk developed. At that, I got praise and attention, and everyone gave me the recognition I sought. That night, however, the void returned full force. After that, I acknowledged my quirk as a double blade.
I got attention and recognition, it was powerful after all.
But… I also got the torture of the void.
I tighten my grip on the sink bowl, my back muscles tensing as I sink my fangs into my cheek, tasting blood. Every time I rise to the top, every time I peak and prove myself the best, the void is always lingering behind my eyelids, ready to suck away my ego and leave a husk behind. No matter what I did, the void wouldn’t break. I tried sleeping pills, lucid dream therapy, and even behavioral groups. Sure, my attitude was still shit, and my temper’s barely hanging by a spider thread, but I can at least control it. But the void is still there after every success. Still there after every conquest. Still there to remind me that there’s at least one thing that is stronger than me.
I look one last time at my crimson eyes, making sure the hollowness had finally faded, and go to get dressed for the day. It’s still fucking early, but there’s no way I am getting back to sleep. I strap on my tactical harness, locking my utility belt to my waste, and check my knife bandolier to make sure everything is secure. I turn my nose to my open window, scenting the air for any hint of frost, before shrugging on a light windbreaker and pick up my hero mask. I walk out of the dorm, leaving the door partially open for the cleaning services, and I walk down the Hero’s Association hallways.
I’d been trapped here until 11:30pm last night following a fresh lead to the Facility. And though I hate spending time in the communal dorm rooms that smell like sweaty, unwashed beta and alpha bodies, I’d conceded that sleep was a priority over comfort. And these rooms are much closer than my apartment.
I open the door to the kitchen, not surprised that no one’s in there, and start up the espresso machine. I grab eggs, cheese, an onion, and bacon from the fridge and go about my morning ritual of making breakfast. I make sure to make extra for any straggler in the dorms that smelled the food and expected some. As I’m starting to sit down with a steaming espresso, my omelet, and last night’s newspaper, the world shifts to the left.
I set my mug and plate firmly on the table before my legs give out. I felt my bones burn as I collide with the ground, my spine locking as my lungs just decide to die. I clutch at my throat, my chest, my face as I try desperately to drag in a wisp of air, my muscles seizing as the world goes red.
Pain
There was so much pain
So
Much
Pain
My back arches…
The Alpha is shredding at its chains…
I scream as the world goes blinding…
Then black…
_____
Omega POV
The darkness roars around the Omega, pressing on their eardrums, raising the hairs on their arms.
They pull slowly at the leather ties on its arms.
Tugs against the tethers to the muzzle.
Listens to the light whine of the charged collar.
The roaring grows.
The platform rises.
The cage rattles as the arena opens.
The masked and hooded crowd screams in bloodlust as they watched the earth open up.
Hungry savage pheromones flood through the space as they see the chained figure in the cage.
The Omega’s emerald eyes snap left and right, straining to see the enemy.
The Alpha who’s blood they smell in the earth.
There is the shriek of metal on metal.
The cage slowly shudders open.
The Omega sees the Alpha, standing on defense twenty yards away.
A series of clicks signals the release of their bonds.
Silence floods the arena.
A snap sounds, the collar drops.
The Omega roars out of the cage, crossing the twenty yards between them and the Alpha in a blink.
The Alpha rears back, pheromones smelling of pure fear.
The Omega launches at him, jaw unhinged, six glistening fangs bared.
…the crowd roars in savagery...
The Omega rises from the downed Alpha, blood flowing from their lips.
Their emerald eyes lock on a figure in the crowd.
The only one not taken over from lust for battle.
He has narrow ruby eyes, clashing with the Omegas wide emerald ones.
The Omega bares blood stained teeth as the collar is snapped back around their throat, and they know no more.