I… I'm not the intruder.
Hotaru, head of the Seidan guard, could not believe what a weak state he was in. Chained in who knows where kind of dank place–probably some underground secret place in the strange realm he found himself in. He wouldn't doubt that strange places like this were probably everywhere. But what was the point of even thinking of such trivial things? He had to get out.
Nor stranger. Nor somebody else.
Havik and Hotaru always had their petty arguments or their small bouts of kombat over the years. But this…this was different. The Seidan had simply been asleep as he found the Cleric breaking into his home, attempting to take him away. Sure, Hotaru had fought back, but being half awake, he was easily subdued and passed out quickly with a hard swing to the head.
Ironic, isn't it?
At first, he wanted to laugh. Through all the petty fighting, through all the times he had remained strong, even in defeat–he could have never prepared himself for this. For once, he was afraid. Weak, exposed, unable to defend himself in any way–no, he didn't have the strength to fight back. Not with that damn injection Havik would keep giving. Dia…zepam? Hotaru had briefly heard the name when he first woke up in this hellhole. And during the first injection, he was quick to grow tired, barely even registering he was being stripped and chained to a wall. Havik made sure he was kept under the influence–to make sure he had no strength to fight back at all.
You changed me. You marked me.
Hotaru was dehydrated, hungry, soon not even needing the drug to be weak. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he let out a strained cry, feeling the searing pain strike across his abdomen. The pain didn't stop there–it went on for what seemed to Hotaru to be hours before he saw Havik approach closer through blurred eyes; that predatory look in his eyes.
And, you know? You aren't brave.
"No…please…!" Hotaru struggled against his bonds, as if he could break them and run free from this place. There was no hope left for him. His morale was gone, his wounds were deeper than anything physical. What was he going to do?
Neither unique nor original.
If Hotaru were to escape, not only would Havik still be alive and searching for him, he had become so broken that what would even become of him? He would be a laughing stock to the senate. He would have nightmares for years. He remembered once, a crime like this happened in Seido, and he remembered looking upon the woman's broken face. Would he too become like that? Broken in many ways and so very afraid?
You are so basic. So primal.
He could barely scream, barely say anything as he felt that lewd sensation of Havik penetrating him again–maliciously raping him until his hips felt sore. Havik was known for stamina and this only made Hotaru sick. Once, twice, thrice… He felt sick every time the man released himself inside of Hotaru. He wanted to puke, he wanted to scream, he wanted to fight back.
I can't even remember how I got here.
How long had it been since Hotaru had seen sunlight? Days? Weeks? Months? He lost track of time quickly. Who knows how long he had been here. Perhaps it had been so long that whatever search party the Senate may have sent out had already given up. They had probably already declared him dead for all he knew.
I…I arrived without looking–without worrying.
He mentally beat himself up every moment he was awake. If only he had taken more precaution, if only he hadn't dawdled around and quickly found a way to destroy the cleric. Was there even a way to destroy Havik? Before his actions had just seemed so…childish. Hotaru never thought anything of it before, but he knows now he should have.
And now? Do I surrender?
What was even left to do? If he had stopped fighting, would Havik become bored and let him go? If he had moaned his name just out of spite, would it have the adverse effect? If he had looked up at Havik and begged, would he be allowed some freedom such as food and water?
I just don't see that angle.
It made Hotaru sick to even think of such things. In all his pride of being a Seidan guard, he would never bend to chaos. Even if that flame of pride and morale was so faintly dim, it was still there. He looked up, screaming, prepared to fight back. But, that apparently did not appeal to Havik as the man slapped him across the face hard and went for another syringe.
I didn't see this would happen.
Hotaru underestimated the true sadistic nature of the cleric. But, how could he really have known? He winced, feeling the syringe enter his arm for what felt to be the tenth time today. He hissed, faintly crying out, his vision becoming blurry, as his muscles convulsed–Havik wasn't careful of how much of the drug he had injected.
I…The one who stopped being.
"Shit…!" Havik cursed under his breath, dropping the syringe as he stepped back, observing Hotaru's bodily spasms as he overdosed. As quickly as he started, he stopped, and Havik knew death had taken hold of his little toy. Havik sighed, pulling Hotaru's dead body from its confines, dragging it out to above ground. He would probably dump it some where in Seido for all he cared.
The one who isn't anymore.