Humiliated. Alone in a cell with extremely scrawled walls: That was his fate. Unlike the person who had previously been in the cell, he had stopped counting the days. He knew that maybe he would never leave, there would be no freedom for him. He would just go straight to a pit, and from there, straight to hell.
There was no forgiveness, nor no salvation, for Laxus Dreyar.
Part of him wanted this torment to end soon; that he was dead to have no more to dream of those shouts of his guild mates in his mind. But all this was part of his punishment. He knew. God was punishing him.
He deserved it, after all.
Someone had told him he was a monster.
Although he had heard this from many people, he could not remember who the first person who had said it. But he knew, he agreed with that. Laxus really was a monster. Purely a monster: He was strange, he was ruthless, he was calculating, he was crazy.
He was sitting on the floor this time, his back comfortably against the wall. The shabby black sweatpants were already wide between her legs. He was getting thinner and thinner. He was losing muscle mass and knew it. But none of that mattered. He was sorry about what he had done with the guild. With your grandfather. But the Council of Magic was not convinced of that.
He could hear Mr. Benson whistling and turning the keys between his fingers: he was approaching. After hearing him open the gate that gave access to that cell, he knew that again that man would try to talk to him, ask what happened. But there was nothing to be said, he just craved the day of his judgment.
"Good morning, Laxus. Today the day dawns beautiful." The man said as he approached the cell grid, analyzing him. "You look very pale, you need to get some sun... But this situation is going to change soon, I presume." His voice was soft, it sounded extremely nice.
"Morning," Laxus replied.
Mr. Benson was a jailer, he was human, he had no magic at all. This was a good man, and Laxus did not treat him badly. She only looked at him attentively and answered only what was necessary.
"Can I see what you drew today?"
Laxus had a black notebook dating that year. He had asked for a notebook and a pen. Although it was not allowed, Mr. Benson took the responsibility and concluded that a simple pen didn't present any danger to him. Which was true: The monster Laxus would never kill Mr. Benson, the only creature who treated him well after what had happened. He gave to him a notebook with dates. Mr. Benson wanted him to see the days, to get distracted, but he didn't look at any day, he just chose a random day and draw something from his mind. Laxus had a talent for drawing, but sometimes he dared to write something, some poetry.
Monster Laxus wrote poetry. Who could have imagined it?
Laxus handed the notebook and Mr. Benson leafed through it for something he had not yet seen. Until he found it.
If you were to turn into a snake tomorrow and begin devouring humans..."Snakes devouring men, Laxus? That's a little scary." He closed the notebook, sighing and handing back to Laxus.
"It's just the first verse, one day you'll see it complete, maybe."
Mr. Benson was a sturdy gentleman with a long Italian mustache and black hair. He wore glasses with round lenses and always wore a white shirt and black or brown social pants. Laxus thought he looked like a librarian - which was not a lie, for he always brought him books, when no one was looking. He liked to think he was his private librarian.
But it was better not to create bonds.
"As you know, Laxus... I want to help you, but I can't do this if you don't open up to me. I won't hurt you, you know. I feel like somehow you-"
"Please, Mr. Benson, I don't need your help."
Mr. Benson sighed.
"Young man, do you really think they will want to help you?"
"I never said I want help from anyone."
He sighed again.
"I moved to bring someone who can help you."
"I said I don't want any help!"
"It's a person from your guild, she's coming Thursday." Mr. Benson had said, feeling victorious when Laxus did not protest again.