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God Knows What Lies Behind That Screen

Summary:

Twixxel’s right hand gripped around the shimmering diamond sword that laid ready in his belt, it unshielded from its place with a sharp metallic ring. Twixxel’s eyes remained on Idaios’s color signal-less face, his white filled eyes razor sharp, filled with an unsure yet determined malicious intention spark.

“Twix…” The shortened name only worsened Twixxel’s fierce glare, the sword beginning to slowly raise in prepare for an inevitable strike.

 

“Shut the FUCK up!” Twixxel snapped, his hands beginning to shake as if he was pushing himself to move forward.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

——
The long agonizing minute of Twixxel’s discovery of Idaios working for Creator, he takes matters into his own sword.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“It was… you… all along… my so-called friend.”

 

Twixxel’s words lied between the two figures in the unforgiving forest drowned with snow, a finger pointed at Idaios, who had silently confirmed the once seemingly impossible concept of his own friend working for the entity that had been detonating his health physically and emotionally. The reality so heavily disquieting, the betrayal squeezing Twixxel’s chest. Idaios deceived him, lied.

 

“Twixxel…” Idaios called out with a firm tone, putting his hand on his head as if a coming headache was forming, before putting his hands out in explanation, as if his recent decisions were reasonable.

 

“Why can’t you just take a second to understand that what we’re doing is wrong? The fact that we’re here, the fact that we joined this world in the first place, and that I am done with this…well, with this place, with everything?”

 

Twixxel didn’t respond, whatever Idaios had to say was radio silence. The possession of his own body, the well made base, the last few days in general, Idaios knew. He disappeared when Twixxel needed him the most, l returned to pretend as if nothing had happened, then had the sick mind to vaguely confirm such an awful position of power. How could this traitor just seem okay with this? How could he simply just accept this? How could he? How could this traitor? How could you? How? How?

 

How?

 

Twixxel’s right hand gripped around the shimmering diamond sword that laid ready in his belt, it unshielded from its place with a sharp metallic ring. Twixxel’s eyes remained on Idaios’s color signal-less face, his white filled eyes razor sharp, filled with an unsure yet determined malicious intention spark. Idaios watched the movement with silent interest, it didn’t take too long for him to realize that Twixxel was taking this situation to a physical level, his shoulders stiffening with already tense language. Idaios took a step back in increasing alarm, which triggered Twixxel to move closer with already stripped restraint.

 

“Twix…” The shortened name only worsened Twixxel’s fierce glare, the sword beginning to slowly raise in prepare for an inevitable strike.

 

“Shut the FUCK up!” Twixxel snapped, his hands beginning to shake as if he was pushing himself to move forward, almost as if he was having second chances, but Idaios was too aware of the loose string of hopeless thinking. The demon was too far gone, and the knowledge made Idaios’s heart squeeze tighter.

 

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” A voice crack lingered along the saddening yet enraged words. The sickening feeling of betrayal only weighing on his selected decision, everything he had done with this traitor in front of him was a lie, the conversations, the jokes, the genuine moments, all thrown to rot away over this cycling joke. And this man still believed he had the right to pretend he had truly done nothing wrong, that he is the savior of this mess, a traitor, the traitor.

“Twixxel… hurting me will not help you.” Idaios backed away carefully, putting his hands up in innocence if there was any of that left in the guilty man. Twixxel’s steps halted, the sword ready for a clean strike.

 

“Then what do you think will help me? I trusted you for so long and— and-and- this is how I’m paid back? By working with the thing that’s been RUINING MY LIFE!? The same thing that ALMOST killed ME AND MOB?!” The raised voice made Idaios stop in his tracks, just feet away from an aging tree, Twixxel’s body trembled with the overwhelming emotions begging to pour out, he gasped for some type of air, gaining breath to hold back coming tears.

 

“I’ve been through so much, and to think it was all because of you.”

 

“This is not the solution, Twixxel. It only shows that you are willing to run away in hopes of change, but there will be none.”

 

Twixxel stood frozen, the crunching snow coming to a halt, his eyes widened blankly as the blunt words sliced through his very being. The wind filled the temporary silence as Idaios shifted uncomfortably, cognizant of the possibility of misleading words can lead to blood shed, Idaios allowed a breath to leave, continuing his explanation.

 

“I know you are upset, but nothing will change if you continue forward like this. If you truly cared about me or even yourself, you would drop your sword.” Idaios assured firmly, almost a demand. Twixxel was too still for Idaios’s liking, but he simply allowed his friend to sink the harsh reality in.

 

“Care…?” Twixxel repeated, his voice was stripped of any emotion, unable to read what he was currently feeling.

 

“Yes, Twix. You cannot keep moving like this.” Idaios spoke with pity yet with a sense of stripped emotion, watching Twixxel with meticulous eyes of any spark of rebel. Twixxel didn’t move, didn’t say a word. It was unsettling, Twixxel had never been so still before with a few exceptions, making Idaios’s heart fill with a sense of dread, something was happening behind those white eyes.

 

“For everyone’s safety, or what’s left of it now, just—“

The sound of rapid footsteps interrupted Idaios, before a sickening loud rip of flesh splattered across the white soft pattern of snow. Idaios shrieked at the sudden force, his body dropping to the hard yet rug-like surface. Twixxel sunk the sword deep into Idaios’s forcefully open skin, before ripping the crimson stained weapon out of the traitor’s body. Idaios gasped, searching for some type of air to compress. Idaios was refused another word when Twixxel brought down the sword for a second time, then a third, then a fourth, and so on.

 

“I don’t give a FUCK ABOUT YOU!” Twixxel shrieked, cutting off whatever Idaios had to say for himself.

 

“Tw—“

Another strike bloodied Twixxel’s crazed face.

 

“YOU DON’T DESERVE ANYTHING!”

 

Blood nastily splattered across the once clean snow, grunts of struggle and the sound of dull crunches increased. Warm droplets stuck to Twixxel’s cold hands, as the crunches only rapidly grew as Twixxel’s desperation piloted his body. Small comments left his broken voice with each thrust, his mind spilling out incomphensible words that were clearly stages of held-back anger from the conversation. The crunches decreased, instead, gushes of already cut-through flesh filled the air instead, his accompanying words coming down only to the word ‘die’ over and over with voice cracks straining his throat. Buzz stung his ears, whatever logical thought was forming now stapled with the urge to continue his torture. Idaios betrayed him. Idaios was a traitor. He was a traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor TraitorTraitorTraitorTraitor Traitor TraitorTraitorTraitorDiedie DiedieDiedieDiedieDiedie die

 

It had felt like long agonizing hours since Twixxel had begun, but it had really been seven minutes of pure anguish and desperation. The sword dropped into the crimson snow, Twixxel’s hands trembled violently as he stared down at his handiwork. Idaios was bleeding awfully, insanely. He deserved it though, he had lied and betrayed him and Mob, made them worried sick over his sudden disappearance, then believing he could come back expecting open embracing arms. It made him sick, but a part of him could not remain angry at Idaios, no matter how hard he attempted to hate him for the lies told, he couldn’t stop the sudden swarm of regret. Regret? For someone who lied to him about something so insanely major?

 

Twixxel stared down at Idaios’s deceased body, the stab wounds uneven yet deep, enough to puncture every organ under the surface of each slice. Twixxel’s breathing became heavy, a galling sting in his eyes. The quiet breeze of wind flowed through his clothes, accompanying the buzz that would not leave his ears. The  phantom feel of thrusting of a sword into flesh crawled around his hands, almost becoming muscle memory even without a weapon at tip. Twixxel felt a wet hot droplet fall onto his hand, he blinked once or twice, looking downwards at the affected hand which was covering the sight of another of Idaios’s wound. It didn’t take too long for Twixxel to realize he was subconsciously crying, the streaks of tears staining his cheeks.

 

His eyes refused to drive away from the body underneath him, fresh blood continued to gush out of Idaios, the severe puddle the two were surrounded by as if it wasn’t enough. A dark crimson substance stained the suit of the victim, his hands just a few tints away of the same color, trembling with the heavy weight of what he had done. The body was still, Idaios’s mouth was slightly agape, as if he had something to say but was refused the chance, spilled blood was already drying. No, Idaios had to have survive his attack, right? He didn’t truly deprive him of his life, he couldn’t have, not like this.

 

“No…”

Twixxel hopelessly pushed a bloody finger against Idaios’s neck, searching for some type of pulse possible within the limp body. He was almost instantly met with nothing, no sign of life, no hint of any internal movement. After a pump of silence, his finger leaving and hovering in the air. His breath hitched with uncomfortable wheezes.  The reality of what he had just committed laid heavy on his bloody shoulders, the commitment he once had now deeply settled into remorse.

 

“No … No… Idaios, please…”

 

His hands gripped Idaios’ shoulders, giving them a hard shake, wishing for a shove backwards to occur from the limp body in his arms. Just like before, no hint of life was given. Twixxel gasped at the harsh confirmation, his trembling hands hovered over Idaios. Twixxel choked on his breath, an agonizing mixture of a sob and a cough left his lips.

 

“Idaios! Talk to me, please!” Twixxel pathetically cried, knowing now too well that he was not going to receive a response. He shook his head in denial and grief, there was no disagreement now. Idaios was dead. Twixxel murdered him in cold drying blood, with accompanying heartless words. He had done the very action Idaios called him out for, running away in hopes of change. But  as said, nothing had changed, only the loss of his friend in front of him.

 

Twixxel weakly wrapped his arms around Idaios’ body, leaning it into an awkward embrace, but he simply could not care about how he appeared right now. Twixxel buried his face into Idaios’s cold shoulder, soft but aching sobs began to fill the once silent area. Unforgiven apologies were unintelligible syllables, grieving fingers dug into Idaios’s cold suit. His tears ran down his face like an ongoing waterfall, the thoughts of self-loathing only increased concurrently of his sobs harshly rose.

 

“I didn’t mean t— Gott— I didn’t mea-...”

 

Twixxel cried, sobbed, anything that could release the pit that voided his mind. The memory of himself insulting Idaios with words he truly didn’t live up to, how Idaios had to hear those very words, how he died believing that Twixxel never cared for him. He almost vomited at the sickening reality he had caused. It was all his fault. He should have known better than to act out of spite, he should have listened to what Idaios had to say, even if he had to endure the fact of him working with Creator. He should have known, he should have, maybe then he wouldn’t have caused such a ruckus. Maybe Idaios would still be alive, maybe Mob wouldn’t have left, maybe, maybe, maybe.

 

The sobs eventually quietened down, the silence only being broken by Twixxel’s brief sniffles. He lifted his head, regaining some type of oxygen little by little, his eyes blurry from the excessive sobbing. In the upper corner of his eye, he noticed darkened crimson legs just feet away from the crime scene, looming ominously over the two men. Twixxel’s heart almost stopped pumping, he raised his gaze in fear, his eyes connecting with another pair he previously refused to acknowledge for days.

 

Creator watched from above, the same unabated smile remained on its grotesque face. It trembled unnoticeably, staring down at Twixxel’s vulnerable state. Any quiver from Twixxel’s body halted immediately, unblinking. Its presence briefly made Twixxel believe that this was some type of hallucination, but that wishful thought was shut down quickly when Twixxel reminded himself of the crimes it committed. Twixxel was unable to read what it was currently feeling, unsure if he wanted to know in the first place.

 

Maybe it’s best if he didn’t.

Notes:

he froze 🤣🤣🤣 my guy hasn’t moved for 40 minutes