(Updates every Friday! Thanks for being patient!)
Chapter 1:
I've always known something is wrong with me, but I've never been able to place a finger as to what it could be. Is it all in my head? Or am I just foolish enough to believe that? Sometimes I just don't know what to think. Magic doesn't exist, and yet I find it all around… so to truly believe what I'm telling myself, must I perish within the flames this castle holds to light? I don't know…
"Sky," Hero begins. "Go get me a glass of wine." I don't respond, as I find my own voice to be repulsive. I simply walk out of the dining room, and begin towards the castle's kitchen. Within the dark hallways of brick, I see others, all working on one thing or another. Hero says we're servants, but we all know that we're merely slaves.
Entering the kitchen, the bags under my eyes not too terribly visible from the faint glow of the stone above, I glance around for the man that actually speaks English. The rest don't. The smell of blood is ripe in the air as the quartz flooring sounds from beneath my feet, the grunts of the natives – the only ones with free will around here – quiet, muffling slightly from the loud slicing of butcher knives. I stop besides the man that speaks (limited) English, and gently tug at his ripped shirt.
Spinning around quickly, knife in hand; the blade catches my right wrist and leaves a gashing mark. I silently cry out as he looks me up and down, but his only reply to what he'd done is a quiet grunt.
"You want?" Tears rolling down my cheeks, I look to the counter and manage to pick up a wine glass, showing him. He grunts once more, muttering in pig Latin as he snorts, and walks off, his rotting flesh revealing the bone of his left cheek as he turns away from me. I gag, as I always do when I see it. As I wait, I take into account that I'm the only one human within this kitchen. Spotting a small rag, I quickly snatch it up and firmly press it to my bloody wrist, already feeling faint. And when the man returns, he grunts, and hands over the glass.
"You go, smell bad." Quickly hurrying out, I hear the man snort before continuing with his work. I hurry down the hallway, and listen to my somewhat heavy footing while careful to watch for others. The murky, thick, black liquid within the glass is stationary, even as my hand is shaking. I slow my pace, as even something as simple as speed walking causes me to feel light headed. Or the faint feeling might just be from the blood trail I'm leaving. I enter the dining room once again. The roaring fire snaps like the whips of the natives when we don't work fast enough, but Hero smiles as he sees me. Until he realizes I've (once again) been hurt. I hand over the glass, but he spills it on the table as he tosses it aside, taking my slashed and bloodied wrist with a gentle grasp.
"How many times must I tell that bastard to watch it?" Hero whispers, leading me out of the dining room. Our familiar path sets into motion as he leads me to the nearest bathroom like the many other times things of this sort occur, and he begins to clean me up. The harsh sting of the disinfectant upon the open wound is enough to draw a soft, high pitch cry from my lips. The smell of alcohol is strong as Hero uses a plentiful amount of it, soon bringing clean, white bandages into the mix. And as soon as he starts wrapping, the bandages are no longer white in some areas. Hero wraps the bandage tightly, but not tight to the point where I'll lose blood flow in my arm. He wraps the bandage counterclockwise around my wrist, right then left, and soon the bandage covering my forearm is red and white. Hero's thick fingers gently wipe at my face, a sorrowful look within his eyes.
I'm nothing special. I don't talk, though I eat a plentiful amount, and most of the time I'm messing something up. Why Hero keeps me around… I don't know. Hero sighs.
"Well, why don't you return to your room for the night; I'll see to it that the wine is cleaned up." I quietly nod, and exit the bathroom, Hero following only briefly before disappearing back into the dining room. I continue to walk, silent as I hold my numb hand to my chest.
I share a room with 3 others. I can't remember any of their names. They don't talk to me, just amongst themselves. No one talks to me… other than Hero. I guess that's why I feel more comfortable around him. I lay down in my bed and face the wall, still caressing my injured hand as I think back to home. No one ever gave me the time… and yet that one kid did… and Hero gave me time too… but what's so special about me that attracts a god's attention? I'll never know…
If I had a sense of time, I'd tell you when I once more got out of bed, but in hell there is no time. This place is…time passes slower here. Whatever age I was back home… well, surely I'm younger than others by this point. How much time has gone by since I've arrived? I don't know anymore.
As I carry two meals, one in each hand, I silently travel down the empty hall. Why I have two meals today, I'm not sure. I don't eat until later.
Upon entering the dining hall, I notice a few things that are different. There are guards on post, and the fire isn't as lively as it usually is, not to mention the man sitting across the table from Hero. I can hear the natives grunting to each other, and feel their gazes upon me. I keep my eyes down, watching my feet as I walk to Hero.
"Ah, Sky, glad to see that you're doing better." Hero comments, his conversation with the other cutting short. "Thank you." He adds as I hand the meals to him. Taking a step back, I begin to once more cradle my hurt hand, glancing to the man. His bleach blonde hair is shiny in this light, and compared to us, he's very pale. His eyes glow like the dying embers of a fire, an orange-red that has a fierceness to it. He glances to Hero as he takes a bite of his bloody meal, and his vision lands on me afterwards. From nowhere he suddenly begins choking on his food.
Hero hurries to help him as a few guards are suddenly alert, glaring at me with their soulless black eyes. The man isn't choking for very long, calm after a bit as he fixes his gaze to his plate.
"Are you alright? Sky, go fetch a glass of water." I nod briefly and begin to leave, the native's snorting lightly.
"Yes, sorry for the scare. I must've not chewed my food as thoroughly as I thought I did." Comparing the sudden commotion in the dining hall to the hallway, you can call the hallway dead, in a sense. Out of breath by the time I arrive to the kitchen; the native's all look to me, stopping what they're doing.
"You want?" The English speaking pig demands, seeming unamused as he places his knife down. I walk over and pick up a regular glass, and he snatches it from me, filling the thing with water before handing it back. "You go, need bath." My face flushing a faint red, I leave the kitchen and make my way back towards the dining room. My footsteps echo lightly, as the silence is so thick that the smallest sigh could pierce through it. I slow as I near the dining hall.
"But Sky is-!"
"You owe me Hero! Don't you fucking forget it!" The heavily armored blonde harshly interrupts as I pause by the entrance. Hero frowns, glancing towards me. Shock quickly finds his face.
"How long have you been standing there, Sky?" The man looks to me too, straightening himself out and lifting his chin slightly. His bulky armor causes an uneasy feeling to bubble within me as I walk towards them, soon stopping before Hero and handing over the glass.
"… You owe me." The man repeats as Hero sets the glass down on the table, breaking the heavy silence. I look to the man for a brief moment before looking back to Hero once more, an anxious, scared feeling flooding my system. And as Hero watches me, I can see his sorrow- his dread- his worry. But he glances to the man and sighs, looking away from us both.
"Alright." Hero whispers.
"Hero…?" I whisper. The shock on his face is evident as he quickly looks to me, and he nearly steps back. Does my voice really scare him so much? I glance to the man, but quickly return my attention to Hero, stepping closer to him. "What's going on…?" I mouth, unable to form any words.
"You're leaving." The man declares after evidently reading my lips, but I don't want to hear it from him. "You'll be transported to my kingdom as a peace offering to keep war out of Hero's kingdom." I watch Hero carefully, never breaking eye contact. His eyes were purely white, but not soulless. They held emotion too.
Hero reaches out to me, and places his hands upon my shoulders. He bites at the inside of his lip as he silently nods to me, as if to say that the man isn't lying. I quickly wrap myself around him, hiding my face in his chest as my arms align themselves with his spine. And I begin to silently cry. I could feel Hero's strong grip wrap carefully around my fragile form, and his head lay on top of mine. Hero pulls me off however, and holds me at arm's length.
"Goodbye, Sky." He whispers, a stray tear rolling down his right cheek. I can't muster the strength to say goodbye, but as I feel a firm grip upon my left bicep, I lunge once more at Hero and wrap myself around him, by this point shaking.
"I don't want to leave…" I whisper, barely able to hear myself, my voice waterlogged. Hero holds me close, the man sighing from behind me.
"I'm sorry…" Hero whispers, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. "But you need to let go now." The man once more takes my left bicep into his grasp, and he forcibly removes me from Hero's arms, Hero not stopping him.
"We'll be leaving now. Have a good afternoon, Hero." The man dismisses himself and begins to lead me off, only pausing briefly for Hero to tell him one last thing, though I can't hear what. And as I glance over my right shoulder, I take one last look at Hero as he stands there, alone in his dining room, staring back at me.
~Tox~
I wait in silence for the general to return. He's been gone a rather long time, now hasn't he? I growl, sitting up.
"ESTOL!" Quietly, the throne room door opens, and the man in question peaks his head in, not entering. I tilt my head, grinning. "Where's the general?" I hiss.
"He's in hell." Estol quietly mumbles, and he shuts the door again.
"DID I DISMISS YOU?!" I sit up fully, gripping at the arms of this rock hard chair. Estol doesn't respond, and I'm left in solitude once again. Damn that bastard! It's a little more than ten minutes later until the door opens again, fully this time. This time, the General walks in. Bringing someone with him in chains. "God damn it, that stubborn old hag!" I mutter, laying back down.
"King Hero has paid early, your Majesty-."
"I can see that!" I snap, silencing the General. The man he presents before me looks somewhat younger than I do, but he is from hell, and that isn't anything new. As I look him over, something begins to tick, like a clock, working its rusting gears as I try to piece together what I'm looking at. "What is this?" I growl, sitting up fully once more.
"King Hero has offered his personal slave to you," The General informs me. "Your Majesty." Slowly sliding down from my elevated throne, I land lightly on my feet, and begin towards the kneeling man with shackles bounding his wrists, one wrist bandaged in bloody rags. I can sense Estol, hiding in the dark corner as he watches, though he doesn't like being here when Max delivers new slaves. Something isn't right.
Reaching out, I grip the man's chin and force him to look up at me, glaring down at him. I blink. The man's golden irises are… intriguing, almost like something… I can't place a finger to it. I release his chin, and his gaze instantly drops to my feet.
"Well aren't you an obedient little pet?" I glance to the General, but ultimately I find myself more drawn to the man at my feet. "What's your name?" And he doesn't answer. My vision darkens. "Answer me."
"Your Majesty," The General starts. "He doesn't speak."
"A mute?" I sneer, baring the sharp diamond-like teeth I call my own.
"I was thinking that he could-."
"Shut up." I interrupt, beginning to walk around the man, eyeing him. The General goes silent, but as I further examine the man below me, I can't help but gain a headache. "What's his name?" I snap, sharply looking to the General.
"Sky-."
"Sky." I chortle. "A rather feminine name. I can only imagine why Hero would hold you as a personal slave." I spit, thoughts and images creating themselves in my head. I begin back towards my throne, but as I continue to think, I continue to imagine so much. I stop walking, though I don't turn around. I close my eyes and slowly take a breath.
The image of Sky… naked, crosses my mind… as he sits obediently, kneeling down at Hero's feet, staring up at the god as he takes him whole… silent tears falling down his cheeks- though a desperate, horny look to his eyes as the god has his way with Sky's mouth. I can imagine Sky… chained to a table- face down… taking a brutal fucking from Hero as the god of hell- of pain- of torture- pleasures Sky's body beyond belief, a cock ring restricting the younger man's release from coming. And I can imagine Sky laying stomach up for hours, length erect and standing tall- twitching- arms bound behind his back and legs spread apart as Hero leaves him for someone else's use, that built up pleasure slowly turning to torture as Sky waits for someone to grant him the release he so desperately wants.
A shudder racks my body, the throne room silent. I spin around to once more face the two males before me, grinning.
"Your Majesty, as I was saying earlier, I-."
"Shut up." I snap, walking back in front of Sky. I reach down and snatch up a handful of his shirt, lifting him with one arm to his feet and pulling him close. He doesn't look up to meet my gaze. "He's mine."
"What?" I look to the General, growling as my vision darkens.
"HE'S MINE." I repeat, louder. "I want him as my own slave." The General, though pale, seems to get even paler, but nods and doesn't object to my demand. I look down to the man in my grasp, finding his gaze upon me, a fear in his eyes. I sneer. You don't have to be afraid…
