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Nikolai grinned wickedly as he snuck up on Fyodor. Fyodor was reading a book, The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx, which he claimed was one of his favorites. But Nikolai wasn’t focused on that. As he snuck closer, he wrapped his gloved hands around Fyodor’s neck from behind.
“Hiya Fedya~!!!!” Nikolai said with a grin as he tightened his grip. It was enough that Fyodor would be able to feel the pressure but not so much that the man couldn’t speak. He wanted to kill Fyodor, but he knew he wouldn’t do so like this. It wouldn’t be as fun if he couldn’t make Fyodor suffer first. He felt a small bit of glee at the idea of killing Fyodor slowly, with blood leaking out of him, drip by drip, the life slowly leaving his body.
“Pleasant greetings to you as well, Kolya.” Fyodor stated back, acting unaffected.
He had of course known that the jester was behind him, but rather than shutting him down, Fyodor was intrigued. Just what would this clown do now that he had his hands tight around his neck? Nikolai was the singular person who he was unable to predict, and he found it quite intriguing. He had no idea if he would tighten his hands further, strangling him to death, or instead keep him alive. He could feel the pressure in his face, building more behind his eyes with the circulation cut off, intensified slightly by his already low blood cell count. It was quite thrilling to feel the tightness, as the warmth rushed to his face. Fyodor kept his gaze straight ahead, smirking to himself with his face fading from a pale white into a bluish purple tinge.
Nikolai grinned at Fyodor’s expression. While it was obvious that Fyodor was acting as though he wasn’t fazed, he could tell that Fyodor had a bit of interest in what Nikolai would do. With a small giggle, Nikolai used his ability to bring himself a knife. It had an intricate silver handle, and the metal of the blade glinting in the light. He brought it up to Fyodor’s cheek with a large smile.
“Sooo Fedya!... What would you say about a little bit of blood?” Nikolai teased, leaning in a bit closer to Fyodor’s ear, “Too bad you don’t have a say~!” Nikolai said, feeling a rush of excitement running through him as he slowly pressed down with the knife and dragged it carefully down Fyodor’s cheek.
Fyodor’s interest piqued at this, not expecting the knife. The idea that the clown thought he was in control was amusing to him, but he decided to let it be. Perhaps he even liked the idea of being helpless before him. He felt the cold metal press against his cheek and shivered, but not from the temperature of the blade, but rather the anticipation. There was so much potential behind that sharpened metal blade, so much Nikolai could do to him. As the jester slid the blade along his cheek, Fyodor felt a brief sting, but not all too bad. It was actually kind of a nice sensation, the knife slicing through his skin.
It took a second before the blood began to form small droplets along the cut, which then merged and gathered, dripping down. A line of red started to run down Fyodor’s cheek and Nikolai stared at the blood in fascination. While he had seen people bleed before, both himself and others, inflicting it on people himself was always much more entertaining. And with Fyodor here, defenseless, with his life in Nikolai’s hands, it couldn’t be more thrilling. With a small smirk, Nikolai reached his hand out and ran his finger along the cut, collecting blood on it before bringing it up to his mouth.
The Russian man could feel the wet warmth of his own blood as it gathered and dripped down his face. It was a lovely sensation, one he hadn’t felt in a while. No one had managed to injure him in years, much less make him bleed, and the fact that it was Nikolai made it all the more captivating. He could feel the clown’s gloved finger come up, swiping along the cut. This caused a line of blood to smear, becoming a sticky consistency as it dried at a faster rate when spread thin. He glanced to the side to watch as Nikolai brought a drop of blood up to his mouth, rubbing it onto his tongue. He could see the red shade stain the tip of it as he tasted it.
Nikolai liked the taste of the blood. It was a little salty and had a hint of a metallic taste but that was part of what made blood taste so appealing. He felt his face flush slightly as he felt his fingers tingle in excitement at seeing someone he (begrudgingly) cared for, bleed. He felt his arms shaking as the adrenaline rushed through his body. With a small giggle, Nikolai grinned at Fyodor.
The man spoke, “You seem to be enjoying yourself, Kolya~”
Nikolai grinned at the Russian, “I could say the same for you Fedyaa~ Do you perhaps enjoy bleeding?” Nikolai teased with a smile though he carefully tightened his grip on Fyodor’s neck.
While the answer may be yes, Fyodor certainly wasn’t about to fess up. So instead he remained silent, watching the clown’s actions. He could feel the tingling and tension in his face building more, and felt a warm rush. He almost felt dizzy for a moment, before he managed to focus himself back in on Nikolai’s face.
Despite Fyodor not saying anything, Nikolai did not care. Even if Fyodor said no, he would do this. After all, what fun is there in hurting someone if he didn’t have the slightest bit of free will? Nikolai grinned as he brought the silver handled knife slowly down Fyodor’s neck, without cutting through the skin, and onto his arm which was left without long sleeves covering it.
The idea of hurting Fyodor in such a way that Fyodor would lose a permanent part of himself was appealing. He could chop off a limb or rip out an eye… Nikolai felt his mouth water slightly at the thought of ripping Fyodor’s heart out and, after putting breading on it, deep frying it to eat as a snack. He bet that Fyodor would taste good, especially if his blood already tasted better than most.
The black haired man swallowed as he felt the sharp metal lightly trace over his neck, knowing full well that if Nikolai wished, he could kill him right then and there. Not exactly high stakes, but nonetheless quite the thought. Part of him wondered if he would go for it, angle the knife and deliver the swift thrust to his neck, but instead the blade kept moving downwards. It came to rest on his exposed arm. He could practically feel the hunger radiating off the other Russian. With that thought, he could hear a tiny Nikolai in his head chide him for forgetting that Ukraine was its own country now.
“Well Fedya~ Do you like birds?” Nikolai said with a devilish grin before pressing down the knife into Fyodor’s arm. It broke skin almost immediately, no one said that Fyodor had thick skin after all, and as blood started to bubble up to the wound, Nikolai carefully moved the knife to carve a little dove into Fyodor’s arm. To do so, Nikolai tried to still his shaking as he didn’t want to accidentally ruin the bird. However, as blood trickled out of the cuts, Nikolai’s arms shook more as his pupils dilated.
“You seem to have quite the obsession with those winged animals.” Fyodor said as he watched Nikolai work.
He simply observed as the doodle was created, a hint of affection felt. Ew, affection… when did he start feeling affection for Nikolai…
Nikolai’s slight shaking did not go unnoticed, and Fyodor could see the excitement and euphoria practically leaking out of him, unable to be contained by his body.
“They are simply wonderful, are they not? Able to fly free, unbound by gravity…” Nikolai says with a wishful tone. Oh how he’d love to be just like them. To no longer be trapped in a cage with the world of free will in sight but likely to never within grasp. Nikolai shook his head slightly. He wasn’t thinking of that now. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make Fyodor bleed.
With a small grin, Nikolai lifted the knife before cutting long stripes into Fyodor’s arm. None of these cuts were too deep, but blood started to drip up towards the surface of the cut, coming out in a few small dots before each of the cuts became fully filled in red with blood. Nikolai stared at the cuts for a second in admiration. The desire to swipe up the blood on his fingers and taste it was strong but he held out. He would get the blood he so desired later…
Shockingly enough, none of these cuts seemed to be painful to Fyodor. They stung a tiny bit, but he actually quite enjoyed the feeling it gave him. His fascination only grew, both for the cuts being left on his skin, and for the jester carving them. He watched, mesmerized, as the blood gathered and dripped.
Nikolai wrapped one of his arms completely around Fyodor’s neck and squeezed. It wasn’t enough for Fyodor to be violently choked, but it blocked Fyodor’s air flow. With a grin, Nikolai watches as Fyodor lost the ability to breathe. He was tempted to cut Fyodor’s throat as well, even just a light cut, but he held off for now. It was best to do one main thing at a time first.
Fyodor let out an uncharacteristic tiny, rat-like, squeak, but let it happen anyways. He could feel the panic seeping into his brain and body, everything begging for oxygen. The limbs grew weaker and his lungs burned, face turning purple as he tried and failed to take in the air he so desperately needed. But he couldn’t deny it was a bit enjoyable. Having Nikolai in full control, his life balancing in his hands. Literally.
Nikolai giggled slightly, loosening his arm enough that Fyodor could breathe, “Wow Fedya~ It’s rude to almost pass out on people you know!” Nikolai teased with an overdramatic frown though he couldn’t keep it for long as his face quickly contorted back into a smile, “Maybe I should cut your throat and let you bleed out as I watch, or slowly rip off each of your limbs as you are awake and unable to stop me as you bleed out from each of your torn off limbs. Unable to talk due to the pain and the blood loss while not even being able to move!”
The anemic man shivered. But not from fear, no. From excitement. The idea of Nikolai inflicting such pain upon him, reveling in his suffering, was incredibly appealing to him. He looked up at the white haired man’s expression of longing and desire, and realized he felt those same desires reflected within himself. To be tortured by him, while he was standing off to the side with an expression of glee, now that was a thought that made his heart race.
“Unfortunately I’m going to need my limbs for my next scheme. Someday though.” He said, somewhat bitterly.
“What a shameeee…” Nikolai whined quietly as the knife flicked closer to Fyodor’s wrists. “I can still have someee fun though~” Nikolai said with a large grin.
“Of course милый~”
(*Милый = Darling*)
Nikolai grinned before bringing the knife down and straight into Fyodor’s chest. He was careful that the strike did not touch any vital organs but the knife went down to the hilt into Fyodor's chest and Nikolai saw blood drip down and out around it. Nikolai grinned from the ecstasy. While he wouldn’t kill Fyodor, at least not yet, watching the blood drip out of him was truly more entertaining than anything could be. Though, he wasn’t worried for Fyodor’s health. If the bleeding got too bad, he could just use his ability to loop Fyodor’s blood throughout his body, like he had done to save the three year old with the weird haircut.
Fyodor let out a gasp. He had absolutely not been expecting Nikolai to fucking stab him through the chest. Letting out a breath, he found that even breathing agitated the wound, every gasp for air feeling like another sharp stab. It was exhilerating. While most of the blood was held in by the knife wedged deeply inside him, some still seeped out around it, staining his white clothes a vibrant red. It was beautiful.
Nikolai stares at the blood in fascination before gripping the knife tighter and twisting. A small thrill ran through his body as he did so. He felt more alert then he normally did when killing someone, but then again, it wasn’t everyday someone got a chance to torture their bestie <3.
Fyodor let out a scream as the knife was twisted, feeling more blood begin to spill. He was gasping for breath as he reached up to grasp onto Nikolai’s hair. He tugged and brought Nikolai face closer to his own, knocking their foreheads together. They made eye contact and Fyodor smirked. Who knew getting impaled would be so much fun? He chuckled at his companion, seeing the sparkle in his bluish-grey and green eyes.
Nikolai grinned as Fyodor pulled his face closer to him. And the smile on Fyodor’s face made this much more appealing. The idea of injuring Fyodor so badly that blood dripped out of his mouth would be so fun… He tightened his grip on the knife and pushed in a little bit more as he giggled slightly.
“Well Fedya~ Isn’t this fun…” Nikolai said with a large grin on his face as he slightly lifted his head before bashing it back down on Fyodor’s.
Fyodor simply giggled at the action, slightly dizzy from the impact. He was always dizzy, but this kind was different. This kind was caused by his dearest companion. Suddenly the door slammed open and the two men’s gaze shot over to the doorway.
“What the FUCK are you two doing??????” Sigma said from the door as he looked between the two. Fyodor had blood all over him and a knife in his chest and Nikolai was the one holding the knife. “AGAIN!?”
Nikolai starts laughing loudly and loses his grip on Fyodor as he falls back onto the ground. Fyodor chuckles as well, slumping forward onto his desk, pale red blood beginning to pool around him.
Sigma gives them both a deadpan expression before closing the door and walking away, shaking his head. He was not paid enough to deal with this shit.