Chapter Text
Maybe, just maybe, it was changeable.
Just maybe it didn't need to happen? Maybe fate was just messing with me, or this was a bad dream. I would open my eyes and nothing had happened.
No, not at all, but it still didn't change the feeling of darkheart, piercing, loud yet so quiet, nothing I wanted to feel before. This was it, wasn't it? The end of love, only to be hit hard with the feeling of longing.
The pain of desire and regret can hit soon, but it is so early. It wasn't supposed to feel this real if it was a dream. But surely this wouldn't happen. No, he wouldn't. It would be something that not even Itrapped could do.
As the strong scent of what seems to be metal hits hard, he steps back. A cold yet warm liquid was soaking through my clothes. Only then does he notice the truth and will behind his actions, perhaps then. Perhaps then, it could change.
But no, it's not going to. And it didn't. No, nothing changed, nothing at all. Darkheart was still piercing my chest, and Itrapped still didn't think I was worthy of love. I'm sure the last one will change soon, after all, I am the owner of a casino, I'm practically a billionaire!
Darkheart had come into his arms as a worthy weapon. One that could steal, drain, injure a soul, take away its feelings. All from any dirty mortal he found disgusting, but he couldn't think of me like that. No, I gave him all he wanted; he loves me, I know it.
But this was too far, no?
Hurting the one you loved, maybe as a person, maybe not. Hurting me. The one you found so interesting, at least that is what you told me when I met you for the first time. At that table, you quickly rose through the ranks; some even thought you were cheating.
But, who am I to blame? You look as pretty as the day I met you, my dear. Still with that lovely hair and deep blue eyes. Icy and cold, my dark, empty ones wouldn't even compare to anything like your eyes.
As I now sit here alone, not even crying because I don't want you to see me. Not my face, my now exposed chest, not my clothes, not anything.
Because I know that you hate wasting your time on garbage.
As you sob into what was my heart, which I have given to you.
____
Wake up, eat, gamble, repeat, make love, sleep, repeat.
____
I yawn, stretch a little, see you, smile. This is because you always said you loved my smile. You said it was bright, and such dark people in the casino shouldn't ever see something so sweet, yet I knew that you would try to kill me.
Maybe that was the feeling of guilt, or love. I still can't tell, but I do want to love you. But something is holding me back. I know it all after all, an employee at first, then a few complaints. Then I asked you, the very same words that you told me were your worst fear, the question wondering what you were, what this so-called Darkheart was.
You had shown me the depths of what it took to love you, if only it could stay that way. If only I had never found out, but again. Maybe it would hurt worse if that were so.
Maybe you didn't have to do such cruel things, but I know how to forgive. And that I did, over and over and over again. Until you declared yourself guilty and undeserving. I asked you, you answered with something true. Full of heart and soul, using me for the freedom that you took away from your friends.
I will never forget the day I met you. You looked cold, yet a certain sorrow sat behind your eyes. I wanted to help you, yet here we are.
But perhaps you will. Everyone does at some point, even with their stupid promises. Such as mine. Maybe I will forget about you, but I can already tell that will be hard to let you go.
I put on the facade I had been taught, get up, away from you.
I only felt disgust,
hate,
unworthy,
vulnerable,
My heart is open for all to see the truth of emotions. Hate fighting with my will to love you.
Especially to you, a scammer, a gold digger, only out there for not me but my money. But that can not stop me from loving you as much as I do. Only fate will tell, that is what I told myself about you. I might have fallen for you, but only fate will tell if we can stay together like this.
As clothes are stripped from my body, I look in the mirror and take a good look at what he has told me was normal for a person. It wasn't for me, scars from old problems, even some burn marks from the past. But what do I see?
Nothing.
I see a human.
Yet no humanity.
Perhaps this was why Itrapped chose me, I had no soul, no person to call my love. I was gullible to the true meaning of love; friendship was only the start of the so-called truth of love you taught me.
Before he wakes up, I quickly rush into my typical clothes, nothing special. Just a suit, tie, hat, and shoes. Nothing a man or woman would find attractive. Which makes me wonder how someone like him could love me from the start? Maybe it was all a hoax, a delusion, something I just couldn't get rid of.
I wish him a good morning, and go off without a word. Still thinking, wondering. Maybe it was, or is it just because I am so gullible?
I found it earlier, yesterday. Hidden in the darkest part of the casino. Yet pointed out by so many people. You had proven why you couldn't be trusted. Even though I wanted to so much.
The sword,
Darkheart.
The one you found so useful, so...
beautiful.
I knew then, I chose not to act, because all of this might be a way you love. Something I never felt, not even from my mother. She had never cared, gave me a casino, a key, some money, and left.
You simply couldn't keep it to yourself, something that was both important to you and the future. To your friends, stuck in a place where the worst were placed
But that can't happen. It is impossible. Right?
No, certainly not,
I sat down at the nearest poker table, got my cards, and looked down.
Ace and King of diamonds.
Huh, how hilarious. Maybe this was us in another universe, a King of wealth and a servant forced to a new beginning.
I place my bet.
Royal flush, jackpot.
I laugh it off, perhaps because I know you'll love me more now. Maybe you'd look at me more today, maybe give me the love I fell for.
____
"Eat up," he says it with some sort of guilt. He shoves the spoon in my mouth; maybe he has already forgotten about my injured body. Maybe he doesn't even care. Maybe he just doesn't want to see me like this; anyone would be disgusted by a sight like this in front of them.
I swallow only to be hit by a sharp feeling in my stomach, and I force myself to sit up straight, nausea only seeming to never end as I puke. All right in front of him.
"Disgusting." He says, grimacing, not even looking at me. I manage to keep
What do I want to say?
Sorry, I won't do that again. Maybe in a singsong voice, that way he would find some interest in me again.
What comes out of my mouth?
Nothing, absolutely nothing. Not even a sound.
"Keep eating, you peasant," I look up, grinning like a maniac. Perhaps this was his way of love. Perhaps it included some harsh words, which was not the best treatment. But still, it was something. He only looks at me, nothing in his eyes. At this rate, I'd forget what he looks like by the end of all of this treatment, by the time we go back to acting like lovers.
I swallow all the food that he puts in my mouth, only to be met with more sickness and more puke all over the floor.
"Whatever, a person like you doesn't even deserve food anyway." He groans and turns away, leaving me alone in wherever, whatever, this room was.
Click.
Gone, nothing but silence.
I started to think maybe I was no longer a human,
Maybe I was programmed,
Maybe I was made out of not skin, flesh, nor bone, but rather wires and metal. That must have been the reason I couldn't eat properly.
I ripped at my skin, hoping to prove this theory-
Yet nothing.
All I saw was the humanity of my flesh, the blood thick yet as smooth and liquid as water. My muscles are ever so moving to my command. Pus and blood were flowing out of the areas I had damaged.
Minutes seemed to slowly pass, yet whenever I opened my eyes, not an hour had gone by. I had already forgotten your face and was trying ever so hard to memorize it, look through my memories, and find something to hold on to.
The strong scent of puke and the lovely food you had given me, an unpleasant mixture, yet I never got tired of it because you had given it to me.
My blood is now a sticky and gooey substance, only as I wait for someone like you does it seem time stops.
Perhaps you would love me more if you had something that reminded you of me. Perhaps he hated my voice?
That would be easy to get rid of. I just needed something that would help. Like a knife or something.