Chapter Text
19 days.
That’s how long he’d been stuck down here in this dingy little cellar.
Tied to this uncomfortably hard metal chair, with nothing but the stench of moss and mildew and the occasional filthy rat to keep him company.
At least, that’s how long he thinks it’s probably been so far?
It feels like he’s been down here for well over a month, but it’s hard to tell with how much time he’s spending in this strange state of half-consciousness he’s been stuck in. Where the minutes seem to blur into quick seconds and the seconds seem to stretch into long winding hours.
What he did know however, was that however many days he’d actually been there for, each and every one of them had been nothing but a hazy, hellish blur of blinding pain.
One second he was floating away gently and safely in the air as if he were simply dreaming, asleep at home on his own futon with his eyes rolled back safely in his head.
The next he was thrown back into the harsh, blinding light of reality, where a serrated blade was sawing mercilessly into the raw meat of his abdomen.
It was almost as if he were back in the mafia all over again.
Strapped helplessly to Mori’s sterile steel operating table with a winding plastic tube pierced into his arm and the ghost of the sharp blade of a scalpel sliding up mockingly against his throat.
He was all too aware of the fact that he was handling this all a lot better than anyone else ever could in a situation like this.
He was handling it a whole lot better than anyone else in the agency would have ever handled it.
So while he was glad it had been him that’d been taken and not anyone else, he was also all too aware that he certainly knew this too.
He must’ve known by now that he wasn’t going to get anywhere torturing him like this.
He must’ve known that before he even decided to go through with this whole kidnapping thing, so it was a mystery to him why he’d been chosen for this, given the demon’s objective.
If he wanted information that badly then why would he choose him?
Why choose the one person in the agency he’s least likely to get it from?
There must be some sort of reasoning behind it, there had to be.
But nothing about this whole situation seemed as cold-cutting and logical as he’d grown to expect from the demon.
There was just something off about it all, but he just couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly it was.
It was quite the mystery, one that Dazai was eager to solve as soon as possible and finally get himself out of this godforsaken horrible metal chair.
He’d been left down here alone for quite a while now, the demon had left him down here alone ever since yesterday morning where he’d decided to investigate the position of Dazai’s liver in his abdomen.
Needless to say he had *not* enjoyed the experience, but he was honestly getting quite bored of this.
Sure the torture was horrible but at least there was something actually happening then.
Hopefully he wouldn’t be here too much longer, the agency might be lagging behind a little but surely they’d find him soon. They’re probably just waiting for the right time to come around for them to come and break him out.
That’s fine. He’ll be fine.
He can deal with this all a little longer.
He does hope they do show up before he dies of boredom though, he feels like that wouldn’t be a very dignified way for him to go.
A set of light footsteps echoing through the chamber interrupted his thoughts, as a tall, thin figure pattered down the stairs at a leisurely pace to the cellar that had become Dazai’s temporary ‘home’ of sorts.
Dazai smirked as he watched the figure slowly approach him “Have you not gotten tired of this yet Demon Fyodor? Surely you realise that you’re not going to get shit out of me like this.”
Fyodor stepped out into the dim light of the flickering, exposed lightbulb that hung low from the ceiling, his hair shimmering with soft lilac highlights and his eyes glowing an electrifying shade of violet as his lips twisted to match Dazai’s smirk.
“you’re quite right Dazai dear, this whole little charade is growing rather tiresome.” He chuckled as he crouched down in front of him
“That’s why I’ve decided it’s about time to give us a little change of scenery.”
Dazai raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And what kind of change did you have in mind Mr Dostoyevsky?”
“Oh you’ll see soon enough.” Fyodor replied with a smile as Dazai felt a damp rag being pressed firmly over his nose and mouth from behind.
He held his breath stubbornly, fighting to avoid inhaling the fumes, but it didn’t take long for his body to begin to give in to the lack of oxygen with his vision beginning to fade and blacken around the edges.
Reluctantly, he took a short ragged breath in as the world went dark.