Chapter Text
When he woke up, there was nothing but silence.
A silence so dense it was suffocating.
There was a dark, wet, dense red that stained everything: the walls, the floor, even himself.
His throat was burning, as if he had been screaming, and the air stank of metal.
"Why? Why me? What have I done?"
His voice sounds strange in the quiet, hoarse and broken, swallowed by the hum of broken lights above.
There is no one to listen to him and his quiet voice. no one to answer his questions.
When did everything go wrong? Maybe it was when he was four and the doctor diagnosed him with quirkiness because of that stupid toe joint, and because of that his father left. Or maybe it was when he was fourteen, after that horrible day. The day his childhood friend told him to die, and his hero destroyed his dreams on that rooftop where he stood alone, wondering if jumping would hurt less than breathing.
Maybe he should have jumped. that way maybe he wouldn't have been kidnaped.
Because now, here he is. Covered in blood. like a monster among corpses.
his head hurts, and his mind feels fussy.
He remembers pieces: needles, red liquid, white walls.
A voice saying “Hold him still.”
The smell of antiseptic. The taste of iron.
Pain so deep it made him forget what words meant.
He remembers the rooms, side by side, all of them that blinding white color,and the intense feeling of despair he felt every time he locked outside his cell only to see how they disposed of another body.
Sometimes he woke up strapped to a table. Sometimes not. Sometimes the screams stopped, and that was worse.
He remembers the hunger. Endless hunger.
And now the hunger is still there, eating him from the inside, driving him mad.
“Stop it,” he whispers, though he doesn’t know who he’s talking to. His hands? His head?
“Stop it, stop it, stop it-”
He can smell something so sweet, warm, almost singing to him like a devil whisper. His stomach twists, his throat aches. He wants to drink it, he needs to, just a little, only to make the pain stop.
Then he freezes.
No. That’s wrong. He’s not supposed to want that.
What’s happening to him?
he needs to stop. he really needs to stop
He stumbles backward, searching for a door, a window, anything. His legs tremble, slick with blood. Every step feels so wrong, and sounds so loud.
Maybe this is a villain attack. Maybe someone will come. Maybe they’re not dead.
He tells himself lies just to keep moving, keep walking, ignoring the cells, the blood and the bodies around him
When he reaches the exit door, something catches his eye. There was a reflection on the glass panel beside it.
he see his face.
His hair is longer. His eyes, no longer green, but glowing red.
His teeth now have two fangs where his canines should be and his entire face was covered in blood.
Suddenly, he is paralyzed. He cant move, cant think. there is no way this is him, right?
He moves slowly, and then, the figure moves too.
The breath leaves his chest. For a second, he swears the reflection smiles back at him.
He runs towards the exit, ignoring the pain he feels as he turns the silver doorknob.
He just wants to go home.
Outside, the night greets him with cold rain, washing the red from his skin but not from his hands.
He stays there for a few minutes, under the rain, looking at his hands now red and burned.
he suddenly feels something warm at his side, and when he touches it, his hand came out covered in warm sticky blood
“Oh”he says, just realizing that some of the blood in the building was his.
Everything is so loud,and he is getting more and more hungry every minute. He feels weak and desperate.
He just wants it to stop.
He wants to go home, with his mom, and wants her to tell him that all of this is just a really bad dream.
So he walks, and walks, and when he is about to pass out in some random alley, he hears an unknown voice. Maybe he is so desperate that he started hallucinating.
he really lost it, didn't he?
He sees a pair of blue eyes, locking at him. He sees her mouth moving, his brain too far gone to listen or understand what she first said
“Poor thing,” she repeated, and something in her voice sounded almost fond.
The world blurs and the last thing he sees before darkness engulfs him again are those blue eyes and dark hair.