It had only taken a few months before Natural stopped crying. Still, that was too long for Ghetsis's tastes. At least when he entered the room, she gave herself to him instead of fighting back. Threats could only last so long, but they worked. It was a simple equation. He could tell her all day long he would kill her if she so much as back talked, cried, or fought him off, but she learned to listen. Maybe it was because she was still fairly young, to quake so easily when he gave empty threats, but it satisfied him.

Now when he came to her, she would shut down completely. Not that it mattered to him. He was only interested in her body, and as long as she didn't start that annoying crying, he could live with this.

There was no love, there was never any love. And Ghetsis still couldn't figure out why he was doing this. Sure, the rush was nice, the feeling of knowing this was wrong ate at him like a disease, but he loved the feeling, like he was high on a drug. When he would kiss her, he felt, for once in his life, like nothing was wrong. His parents weren't exactly loving toward him. He never really socialized with them. All he knew was that if he yelled enough, his parents would give him the money to do whatever he wanted with. All he knew were material things, things he could own, because he was rich and had the power to have whatever he wanted.

Even if it meant owning another person, this is what he knew. But he was gentle with her at least the times she was good. Since she was young, he knew it would take awhile for her body to get used to him, but that was okay. All he had was time now. The castle was completely under his order, he was now god in this place, and he made damn sure if anyone breathed a word about what he was doing, he'd do something worse than just kill them.

Sometimes he could get her to talk to him. It wasn't much of a conversation, but he enjoyed hearing how she pronounced words in that odd accent. When he would have her pinned down to the bed, kissing her and running his fingers through her hair, he would sometimes just talk. Nonsensical talking, white noise, but she would answer. Sometimes that's all they would do. There was no sex, no groping, sometimes not even kissing, simply talking.

One morning Ghetsis was jerked from sleep when he heard Natural moaning in the restroom. She didn't dare leave his side at night, but even if she did, he made sure to lock her in with him, so he immediately rose from bed to find her bent over the toilet, vomiting. Not asking right away what was wrong, he bent beside her, pulling her long hair behind her to get it out of her face as she continued retching. From where he stood, he could smell the lavender she always bathed with, and see the tears falling down her face as she held her stomach, moaning from the pain. Then finally, she leaned away, her entire body pale and shaking.

The first thing Ghetsis did was feel of her forehead, a little surprised to find she didn't have a fever. It felt a little dumb to ask her what was the matter, when it was obvious, but the only thing he could think of was getting Colress to examine her right away. Without speaking, he lifted her in his arms, making his way out of his room and down the hallway. There were days like this too, days where neither of them would speak. Everything was movement, body language, touching and feeling. Sometimes words were useless.

Once Natural was in Colress's arms, Ghetsis left to tend to business for awhile. He knew she was safe there, or at least, he knew Colress wouldn't cross him, especially since he let him move all his junk into the castle and even gave him his own room. He let Zinzolin move too. It was a castle after all, and Ghetsis had room to spare.

Only an hour had passed before Ghetsis found Colress walking toward him, Natural still curled in his arms. She always looked so small, no matter how he viewed her. Once he spotted them, Ghetsis moved instantly, snatching Natural back, his stomach churning a little when he saw the look on Colress's face. He didn't even have to ask what was wrong.

"She's pregnant."

At first he wanted to laugh, at first it didn't even register with him what exactly it meant, but then Ghetsis felt like a weight emptied into his stomach, causing him to stagger a bit. Yes, it had occurred to him before. He knew it was a possibility, he figured if he was careful enough, this wouldn't happen. But, he had fucked up. The more he pressed on it, the more he could feel Natural shaking in his arms. She was terrified, maybe more so than she was the night he brought her here. She didn't speak, but he could feel every single little tremor her tiny body made.

Then Colress spoke. "What are you going to do? What do you want to do?"

"I don't know." Staring at the floor, Ghetsis could only stand there and ponder. What would he gain from being a father? The thought of children running around was never even a thought he teased. It was something he never even considered. Laughable, yes, but now he had hit a wall. Now he had to face reality that he had fucked up, in more than just a few ways. Everything about what he had done was wrong, he knew that, but he didn't even care about that. It was...normal to him. Natural being here and now carrying his child was normal.

"Ghetsis." Colress was now at his side, having grabbed onto his arm to get his attention. Natural's smalls sobs were audible. "I think this might be good for you. It might be good for her too."

Now he wanted to laugh, but it came out choked and strained. "How the hell do you figure that?"

"I think if you let her have this baby, she'll warm up to being here more. If she has a responsibility, if she has to take care of something you both created, maybe it will be better for the both of you. Maybe it will relieve the stress of other things. That's just my personal opinion, though."

Ghetsis didn't know what to say. His attention focused back on the floor, he stood there for what felt like hours, thinking, wondering how in the world having a baby would change things. How it could make things better. Maybe Colress was right, though. If Natural had the weight of caring for a baby on her shoulder, it could make things a little better. Maybe. Everything was a maybe now, and it frustrated him not knowing exactly what to do.

When he felt her head lean onto his shoulder, her tears soaking through his shirt, Ghetsis nodded to Colress. "Alright. We'll just see what happens."


Time seemed to slow down for awhile after that. Things even felt normal again, or as normal as they had been, at least to Ghetsis. The only thing that was different was Natural would wake up some mornings, sick to her stomach, and stay in the restroom vomiting. It seemed to be getting to her, though.

Ghetsis noticed when she would come out, she would always be staring at the floor, the bed sheets, even the wall, but anything other than him. When he would call her name, she would respond by moving her head to the side, avoiding eye contact. Normally, he'd let it slide, he wouldn't even care, but there was something about it that began to annoy him the more she did it. "Look at me." Then when she'd lift her head, he could still see her eyes avoiding looking directly into his. When he'd grab onto her face and force her to look up at him, her eyes instantly began to fill with tears. The crying angered him, but he was trying very hard to be calm and patient with her. She was just an object after all, just another thing he owned. "Why are you crying?"

He released her face, her eyes falling from him and focusing on the floor, the tears falling. "I-I want to go home."

"I've already told you hundreds of times no."

"...Why?" Her pale hands were wringing the edge of the dress she wore. Back and forth, squeezing it so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Because that's what I want."

Then she was silent, standing at the foot of his bed, still staring at the floor, sniffling, but her tears had stopped. Back and forth, she twisted the fabric of her dress in her hands, wrinkling it. The times she tried to resist him irritated him, but he found that putting his foot down was the best way to deal with her, to let her know she was not in control, that he was. She quaked so easily, but it satisfied him seeing her so obedient.

"Do you even realize what's happening?" Moving from his bed, he threw his feet over the edge, reaching to grab her arm and pull her closer to him. She was so, so tiny, he could wrap his fingers completely around her arm. Had she gotten thinner? He didn't remember her seeming so...frail before. She had always been a little on the short side and thin, but looking at her closer now, he could see her ribs through the dress, her bones jutting from her elbows and wrists. Even when he made love to her, gotten her completely naked, he only just now noticed, now that he was touching her and not just fucking her. "Are you eating?"

The maids were responsible for bringing her food when he was away, they were the ones who were supposed to make sure she was well fed and taken care of. Were they slacking on the job?

Natural shook her head, flinching when he ran his hands up her arms, running his fingers over her hands, wrists, and elbows to feel her bones. "I can't."

"You can't eat? Why not?" This wasn't worrying him, it was making him angry. Someone, maybe not her, wasn't following orders.

"I feel sick all the time. When I smell food, it makes me too nauseous to eat it."

He figured that was from the pregnancy, but shouldn't she have cravings? If she was feeding for two, she should've been eating more, not less. "You do realize you have a baby inside you, don't you?" Now he wished she was a little older, so that he wouldn't have to explain this to her. It was more out of laziness than anything, not that he cared. Maybe he liked that about her too, being too ignorant to realize what an adult situation she was in. "If you don't eat, that's not good for it. It's not good for you either."

She nodded like she understood. "But I can't. I'm not hungry anymore, ever."

Now he was a little rattled, unsettled by what she was telling him. Colress needed to examine her again, but the first priority was getting food into her. "Natural, do you understand what's happening right now?"

Silence from her end.

"You're going to be a mother. Do you realize that?"

She always looked so dissociated, never ever making eye contact with him, always looking at the floor, always saying as little as possible. "Yes."

"I'm going to bring you food. I want you to eat. If you can't, then I'm not against shoving it down your throat." Maybe she just needed a little push.

It surprised him that she showed no reaction to his threat. Perhaps he threw them around a little too much and she was getting used to them. He'd just have to show her they weren't always going to be empty, and that he meant what he said this time.


As the months rolled away one after another, it became more and more apparent that Natural was pregnant. But it seemed the more her stomach expanded, the worse she herself got. Ghetsis never was able to get her to eat, and when Colress was called to the scene, he suggested a feeding tube. Most of her days, Natural was laid up in bed, pale and sickly. When Ghetsis would come to her side, not speaking, never speaking, just touching her in different ways, whether it was stroking her face, arms, or rubbing her belly, she would start to cry.

But the way she looked, so malnourished and unwell, he was bitter. If she died-he didn't even want to think about it. He didn't love her. To him, love did not exist. There was never any love when he was a child, he was never loved by his parents, so he had no love to give in return to anyone, especially not some little girl he snatched from an amusement park.

But he didn't want to think about what things would be like without her here. In a way, she made things better. He didn't get mad as much, or frustrated. With her as his scapegoat, all his bitterness and anger went into her when he fucked her. She was just another thing, something new, something he could use to take his mind off things, like the way he hated people, hated the world. She made it better.

When the 9th month came, Ghetsis was prepared. One of his maids had brought two little girls with her to help take care of the baby. Anthea and Concordia, he'd heard their names called. They were strange little girls, never smiling, never showing much emotion, but obedient to his wishes. They stayed by Natural's side on her worst days when she was vomiting uncontrollably, when she was too weak to even lift her arms.

He'd cornered Colress many times, pushed him up against a wall and towered over him, either choking him or banging his head against the wall until his glasses fell off, demanding him to fucking do something, why was he letting Natural get so bad like this? Couldn't he see she was dying?

And it tore at him, imagining things back to the way they were, admitting to himself that yes, she was dying. For some reason, the little girl he snatched away and who made things so much better for him, stopped eating until it was forced into her through a tube, so that she could live and the baby would live. Or maybe the baby would die too. He didn't really care about the baby. It was just an ugly mound of flesh inside of her, feeding off of her until there was nothing left.

Colress assured him he was trying everything, but she was not reacting to medicine at all. He'd tried different everything, anything he could think, but her body refused to accept whatever he gave her. The more bad news he got, the angrier Ghetsis became. He would seclude himself in an unused room, not wanting to hear anymore of it, not wanting to see Natural only get worse and worse. Knowing she would be dead any day only made him angry at the world.

When he was alone, he would throw things, like he had done before when he was younger. Ever since Natural was there, he hadn't gotten so mad in a long time, he hadn't thrown chairs against the walls, busted windows, mirrors, anything. But seeing Colress at a loss for what to do, the maids doing everything to make Natural as comfortable as possible, only to see her condition worsen, it was too much for him.

He wasn't in the room when she had the baby. He was far away, knowing she was dead now, knowing it, without even having to be told. Locked in a room by himself, he tried to distract himself with books, with Math, formulas, books about pokemon, but it didn't help. Everything made him angry, realizing Natural was gone made him hate the world even more. He wanted to see it burn, to watch everyone suffer, because pain never felt this horrible. Pain in his stomach, aching his muscles, his head pounding, the realization that he was alone.

Then a knock at the door. Slowly, he rose from his spot on the floor, not sure whether he wanted to open it or not. Because opening it would only mean more bad news. More misery. He forced himself to walk across the room, across books he'd thrown and torn out pages of, broken chairs, a busted lamp, then the door handle, which he unlocked, opening to see Colress and the two girls, Anthea and Concordia, standing in his doorway.

The look Colress gave him was enough. It was strange how much he'd grown the past year. They still were anything but friends, but Ghetsis found himself relying on him a little more than he had in the past. "I'm sorry."

Ghetsis shook his head. "I don't fucking want to hear it." He was angry. Fake sympathy, fake everything. No more anything anymore. He felt empty.

"Do you at least want to meet your son?"

Colress moved out of the way to reveal Anthea holding a small bundle in her arms. It cooed and gurgled, looking up at him with big blue eyes. Instantly he recoiled, like they were presenting some sort of abomination to him and not his baby wrapped in a green blanket. He didn't know what to think of it, of him, his son. It's what killed Natural. If not, then his son only made her condition worse. If she hadn't been pregnant with him, she might have lived. Ifs were all he could think of. Ifs killed her, straight answers and consequences didn't matter anymore.

"Get him away from me. I don't want to look at that thing right now." And he slammed the door in their faces, hearing the baby start to cry on the other end from the loud noise.


Time felt like it didn't exist after that. For awhile, Ghetsis was holed up in the empty room, trying to distract himself with books, trying to get his mind off everything. When maids needed him, when business needed taken care of, he did like he always did. Maybe this was a feeling of normality. Having someone here only made things better for awhile, but with Natural gone, he was back to his old self. Angry at everyone, hating the world, and bitter.

Sometimes he would hear people talk about his little boy. He wasn't even a baby anymore, but Ghetsis hardly saw him. When he did, all he could see was a head full of thick hair, just like his mommy's, and a smile on his face. What did a toddler have to be happy about. He didn't even give him a name. No one could consult him long enough to ask him for one, so people branded him with the nickname N, from Natural. Ghetsis wasn't sure how he felt about that. He wanted nothing to do with her anymore, he wanted to wipe her memory away from his mind completely, he didn't want to think that the little boy who killed her was crawling and learning to walk around with that stupid smile on his face.

When things got really bad for him, he found himself heading to Colress's office and sitting down. He learned talking sometimes helped, and Colress always did the best he could giving advice, even if it was something Ghetsis didn't want to hear.

"Maybe distancing yourself from your son isn't the best choice right now. What do you think of getting more involved with him? He needs a father, or at least someone. I'm no child psychologist, so I'm not sure how healthy it is for him to be mothered by so many different maids like this. He needs more structure."

Ghetsis shook his head, sipping some wine he'd been offered. He never was much of a drinker. It didn't numb him like he would've preferred. "I don't know."

Then Colress sighed, leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "You always come to me like this for advice, but what's the point if you never act on anything? If you keep doing what you are doing now, you're going to wind up in a rut, and it's only going to get worse and worse. If you want things to get better, I suggest spending time with your son. I've told you this a thousand times, but he did not kill her. She was sick a long time before she had him, maybe even before you brought her here. Nothing would have saved her."

He gripped the glass in his hands, drinking more wine, coughing when it burned.

"N is all you have left. Maybe if you spent time with him, you'll come to realize he can make things better for you, too. He might make you healthy again."

Still, Ghetsis said nothing, still sipping at his wine, feeling like he had to drown himself in it now.

"Give yourself a goal with him. If you busy yourself with him, you might realize he can make things better."

With Colress's words hanging over him like a storming cloud, Ghetsis left the room. His first intention was to retreat back to what he'd made into his study, just a small office with a desk and books, but he stopped himself when he spotted N seated in the hallway playing with toys. He was still so little, still a toddler, but from where he stood, Ghetsis could clearly see him smiling, having the time of his life playing with stuffed pokemon toys.

Anger, that's all Ghetsis could think of, but he swallowed it down, approaching his son. This was the first time he was really looking at him since he was born. All he'd seen were glances from when the maids carried him around. Every time they would pass, the maids would point at him and tell N that was his daddy, so he knew who he was at least.

When he walked next to him, N leaned his head back, smiling up at him. He didn't speak, but Ghetsis didn't know if he could even talk yet. He was still wearing diapers. All Ghetsis saw when he looked at that face were those big blue eyes and faint freckles that were only noticeable up close, framed by that thick hair that reached his shoulders.

Maybe Colress was right. He wasn't stupid, he wasn't an expert on everything, but at least he was trying to help. And Ghetsis knew he was unhealthy right now. It felt like he would never feel like he did before ever again. It wasn't...happiness, but it was coping with the way he was.

When N smiled up at him, he could feel the hatred for him wash away. The bitterness was still there, because he would never get over Natural dying and leaving him like this, but he didn't feel loathing toward the baby anymore. He was theirs after all, he was his son, his only son.

Bending down, Ghetsis was surprised when N reached his arms out for him to pick him up, which he did, lifting him high from the floor and holding him for the first time. N's tiny arms wrapped around his neck, his face burying into his shoulder, and Ghetsis felt like he broke.

There was no sadness, no anger, no happiness. Never happiness. No love. But he could cope. Holding his son made him realize he was all he had. He needed him. He needed him, because Ghetsis knew he was sick, nothing would make him better, but maybe N could. Maybe being a dad would distract his mind from realizing what a shithole the world was.

There were always maybes, never anything set in stone. Ghetsis's whole world was full of maybes. It bothered him, it made him sick not knowing the answers to everything.

But for now, he stood there, holding his son and staring at the floor, N having fallen asleep at some point in his arms.


Everything was the way it had always been. Feeling was trivial, it was obsolete. N lay in his father's bed on his back, his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to watch when Ghetsis went into him over and over. He felt around blindly with his hands, trying to cling to something, just to have something to grab. His father's hands were under his thighs, propping him at an angle so he could reach him.

It didn't hurt anymore. But, N didn't think he could feel anything. His entire body felt numb, no matter what was happening. Whether he was being fucked or sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for his daddy, he couldn't feel anymore. The physical feelings were there. When his father went into him just right, he could feel that wonderful feeling surface, the one that made him moan, especially when his father hit the spot over and over. It made him hard, it made him reach for the bed sheets and squeeze, because it felt so wonderful. Over and over, over and over, again, again.

Everything felt wonderful, just for a second. When he orgasmed, the haze was absolute bliss, a feeling he hoped he never got used to, a feeling that outweighed everything, even when his father came into him, and when he pulled out, there was nothing like it. Like always, when Ghetsis was through, he leaned over to kiss N, never speaking, before dressing himself and leaving.

N lay there, given a choice of either letting sleep take over, or getting up and showering. It never helped. The only thing it did was clean the sweat from him, make his hair shiny, but he never felt clean.

N rose, not wanting to lie down anymore, especially in his own sweat and cum. When he stood, he felt oddly weak. It was like standing was a chore, an obstacle. He wasn't in pain, at least not physically, but he felt weighed down by something. Once he was finally on his feet, it felt like it took forever for him to reach the bathroom. Movement was slow, but there was no pain. There wasn't anything. It felt like he couldn't stand, he felt weighed down so much, so he filled the tub with water he could sit in.

Dragging the soap over his skin, the smell was making him a little nauseous, but it wasn't as strong as the stuff his father used to make him bathe in. This smelled like fruit, not lavender. He had to lean back, feeling very tired, like he could fall asleep in the water, but it felt physically exhausting.

He felt spent. Used up, completely empty. Cleaning himself hurt, because he shouldn't have to clean himself after being raped. He shouldn't have to cater to his father's needs, he shouldn't have to live this way. Because it was all pointless, every bit of it.

Tears came, then fell, cold against his face and contrasting the steam rising from the water. It hurt, it hurt so much. He loved his daddy, he did, he really did, but he hated having to do this. He hated being trapped onto that bed almost everyday, he hated being kissed, hugged, he hated it when they made love. Because not once had N ever consented. He never wanted this, not ever. Ghetsis took whatever he wanted, because he could.

Holding his hands to his face, N sobbed into them, bunching his knees up to his chest. Why. Why, why did this have to happen to him? What did he ever do in his life that was so bad that his daddy felt it necessary to hurt him like this over and over, to make him feel like utter shit when he didn't do something right, to hit him when he cried, bite him when he screamed?

Didn't Ghetsis see how hard he was trying? It was never even considered for him to like it. How could he ever like this. It was too horrible for him to cope with, to try to convince himself it was okay, it was normal. Nothing was normal. Daddy was horrible, he-

It was pointless, though. N knew that. This was only something that happened everyday. He hadn't seen his room in a long time, because he was locked in Ghetsis's room all the time now. Everyday, he cried like this, he thought about what his life consisted of now, how pointless it was even to wake up anymore.

But he loved his daddy, didn't he? Why should he have to love him, when he didn't do the same in return? Daddy locked him in his room when he was little, he fed him the lies about being king, about being a hero, just to fuck with him, just to let him know he had no control, and that his life was a waste from the start. Then daddy gave him Zorua, the only thing N ever really loved, the thing that gave him comfort so many nights after daddy hurt him, but he killed her. And every time N tried to take a chance at being happy, it was taken, either physically or by influence.

So what was the point? N asked himself the same thing everyday. His father would rape him, leave, and N would be left to himself for the rest of the day, until Ghetsis came for him again that night. It had gotten too hard to move anymore, to eat, to care.

If all N's life was left of was being hurt again and again by his father, if he was nothing more than a tool and not a person, what was left? He still had dreams, even though they were smashed to bits now. He still fantasized about leaving, living on his own, being safe for once.

Because he wasn't safe. He was a prisoner, nothing more than a sex slave for a sick person. What sort of existence was that?

He remembered the knife in the drawer, the rope, the straps. Sometimes his father tied him to the bed. Not often, because N didn't run anymore. But when vanilla got too boring, Ghetsis found ways to make it more interesting.

Rising out of the water, he reached over, pulling back the drawer, not surprised when he found the knife still there, untouched from the last time his father used it on him, when he cut his clothes off him. It was grabbed, then the drawer was shut back.

Cold. The air felt freezing, like the blade. N stepped back in the warm water, running his fingers down the smooth edge of the knife.

He wanted to die. He wanted everything to end, to please...just end. Because he couldn't take it anymore. If living meant going through this pain over and over, he didn't know how much more he could take. If Ghetsis didn't accidentally kill him from choking him so much first, N would do it himself.

Because there was no point anymore. And this would finally, finally end the pain. He dragged the blade gently over his wrists, not hard enough to cut yet. Dying scared him a little, but he hoped it would be better than this, anything than this. He just didn't want to be afraid anymore, or hurt. Why did that make him selfish?

He was crying now, because there had been good times. Zorua was a good memory, playing with toys was a good memory, learning Math, riding the ferris wheel with Black and White. He wanted more of that, and to give it all up now, because there was no escape anymore, there was no more future for him.

N had nothing left. He cried. And cried. Rocking in the water, he stared at the knife, scared, so scared for what would happen, but he wanted to die so much at the same time. There was no point, no life, no future, no feeling.

As he dug the knife into his wrist and slid it across, he was surprised by how painless it was. He watched, transfixed at the sight of his blood pooling down his own arm, into the water. So much blood, so much red, he was already sick from the sight, from the smell. But he wasn't dead yet. Again, he slid the knife against him, this time wincing from the strong sting, and more blood. And then he began to feel light-headed. He cried, and cried until he couldn't see, still raking the knife across his wrist, biting his lip from the pain that was too much to bear now. It stung so much, it was the end, and he could breathe now. He was so tired.

It was over. He saw black not long after, just wanting to feel safe now. That's all he ever wanted.


Greenery. Colors from flowers. Trees, and the smells. It was nice to feel this way, to be able to feel again. But, then-

"I love you."

No sights, no more smells, no more feeling. Nothing anymore.

"I love you."

It was his own voice, he realized. Over and over, who was it for? Zorua, maybe Black and White, maybe Anthea and Concordia, maybe for the mother he never met.

Maybe for daddy?

"Daddy...I love you."

It was dark, dreary. N was numb, stiff. His arms were pulled behind his head, together, held by rope. He couldn't move.

"Daddy..."

He felt so weak, even opening his eyes was difficult. It was dark. Maybe it had all been a dream, maybe this was a dream. N was sorry, he was so sorry. He wanted to live, but he wanted to be safe too. He wanted daddy's love.

Daddy was seated at the foot of the bed, not looking at him. N had a horrible sensation wash over him, the feeling that...that he wasn't dead. Not yet. Alive, he was still alive. He hadn't been able to do it. When he tried to move, his wrists stung horribly, making him wince. There was a strange feeling in his body, like he'd been drugged. And maybe he had. Something tight was wrapped around his left wrist under the rope, the one he'd cut. Bandages?

N began to cry, softly at first, then he looked up at the ceiling, trying to breathe when he spoke, even though it hurt so much. "Daddy...why are you doing this to me?"

And he was surprised when Ghetsis spoke right away, his voice shaking a little, something he wasn't used to. He didn't even sound like himself. "Because I need you."

The tears were thick, but he didn't even feel them. He didn't stutter when he responded. "Why, daddy? I don't want this. I'm...so tired of this. I can't take it anymore. Please, let me go."

Then Ghetsis moved, the bed shifting when he leaned over, placing his arms on both sides of him, and N felt suffocated. When he looked up at his father's face, he could see through his cloudy eyes the look his father was giving him. It was...almost sad, longing and hungry. Desperate.

"You're so fucking selfish, N. I-I honestly never thought you'd do something like this to me. How could you do this? Do you have any idea what I went through when I found you unconscious in a tub of bloody water? No, of course you didn't, of course you don't. How could you?" As he spoke, he reached over to the headboard where N's wrists were bound, pulling at the rope so that it rubbed against N's sore wrist, causing him to wince. Ghetsis was angry.

It was cold, and N knew he was naked. Numb and bare. But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered. "Because I can't live this way anymore. I'm sick of this. I don't want to be here. I-I just want to be safe."

"Aren't I giving you everything already?" Then he moved again, completely over N this time. N flinched, shaking when his father touched him, dragging his nails across his bare flesh. Never was there a feeling so vulnerable, helpless. It made him sick to his stomach.

"No, no...please, daddy, please. If you won't let me go, then kill me. Please." Sobs were choked out, and N slowly grew aware of the situation he was in. Every little movement hurt his wrist where he'd cut, every little thing hurt now. It hurt worse than it ever had before, especially with his father over him, straddling him. It made him feel like he couldn't breathe, realizing how small he was, how out of control he was, how nothing would ever be the same.

"I can't believe you. You think life is just so fucking miserable, don't you? You think everything is so bad, don't you?" His hands slid up N's chest, resting at his already bruised neck from where he'd been strangled so many times. He gently massaged his throat, something N didn't expect. But then, daddy was always unpredictable. "You already know I'm not going to kill you."

Trying to ignore his father's hands on him, N looked up again. "Why are you doing this? Why won't you let me go? Daddy, don't you love me?"

"Love doesn't exist. People in this world are so fucking stupid. Something like love, something they think makes the world go round, doesn't even exist. They think they know everything, they think the world turns just for them, that if they wish for something hard enough, they'll get it. And it's all so pointless. People don't even realize what a waste life is. Life for everyone ends up being the same. Everybody always ends up rotting in the ground. I'm the same too." His fingers were wrapped around N's throat, not squeezing just yet. "You were better when you were younger, when you were stupid. Like your mother, children don't know how the world works, they don't realize what a fucking horrible place it is just yet. They don't realize one day they're going to work their life away, just to die, just to have maggots crawling into their skulls when they're buried in the ground. They're so naive to everything, but I envy that. You think this is bad? I haven't even showed you bad."

Then, he squeezed, harder, harder than it felt like he'd ever done before. N felt like his windpipe would crush under his father's hands, but he welcomed it. If he died now, it was a blessing. He wanted daddy to kill him. Harder and harder, until N felt light-headed again. He didn't move, because he couldn't, he just accepted it. But then Ghetsis stopped, releasing his hands and N screamed because h-he wanted to die! "Why?! Why are you doing this?! Please, please, just kill me!" A slap across his face, hard enough that his head lolled to the side, and N lay there, breathing, living, crying because he was still alive, because he wanted to die so much.

"You made things better." Now Ghetsis's hands were in his hair, twirling strands around his finger. N recoiled at the feeling. "Like she did, things felt fine for awhile. I didn't hate the world as much, because I knew if there were innocent children like you, maybe it wasn't such a bad place after all. At least while life lasts, at least before everyone dies, people like you make it better." He yanked at his hair, causing N to wince. "You look like your mom. Maybe that's why. It took a long time for me to get over after she died having you, because then you were here, you were all that was left, and you were mine, something I created." Leaning over, N moved his head out of reflex when Ghetsis placed his lips against his head. N was shaking, trying to control his sobbing, but failing. Ghetsis's lips were cold against his skin."You still make things better. You're still mine, and I'm not going to kill you. I'm not going to let you kill yourself either. I'll take everything out of this room you think you can use on yourself, I'll keep you tied to the bed if I have to. I'll break you, I'll cut you, I'll make it so you can't leave, so that you can't hurt yourself. I'll make it so you won't ever be able to run away from me again."

N sobbed, choking as he struggled to breathe and get his words out. "B-but-daddy..." It hurt, it hurt so much. "I'm your son."

Moving down from his head, Ghetsis placed small kisses to his face, his cheeks, his mouth, his hands running over the ropes that bound him, massaging the bandages over his wrist. "I know. That doesn't excuse what you did. Now I can't trust you anymore, not even to stay in this room and be a good boy for me."

Shaking, all N could see were his tears, all he could feel were Ghetsis's hands on him, his lips pressing against random parts of his face. "I-I don't want this. I'm so tired of this."

"But you make things better. I need you."

It was pointless, N knew that, to try and talk to him like this. Words were so useless, only noise. Ghetsis wasn't listening, he never would. "Daddy..." Slowly, N felt his father's hands travel to his thighs, lifting him, and N knew what was coming, but he still screamed when daddy pushed into him. There was never any preparation, never any warning, never consenting. Ghetsis just took and took whatever and whenever he wanted, because all he had ever known were material things. "DADDY PLEASE! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE! I'M SORRY, PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!" Everything was against him. Without his consent, while he screamed and cried, choking on his own sobs, N lay there, trapped, like he always had, while his daddy raped him over and over. This time, nothing felt good. This time, he tried to fight. Desperate when Ghetsis moved out of him, N lifted a leg and kicked him, screaming at him, kicking with every ounce of energy he had left, trying to ignore the strange groggy sensation he felt, and the way his wrists chafed against the rope. "STOP! STOP! PLEASE, HELP! SOMEONE, HELP ME!" He screamed and screamed, kicking at his father, ignoring the look of rage on his face, struggling when his father grabbed hold of his legs to stop him. "NO! NO, NO, NO! DADDY, STOP, STOP! I-I HATE YOU, STOP!" Then, Ghetsis's hands released his legs, moving for his throat instead. He gripped him hard again, shaking him back and forth until N was too light-headed to fight him off. When Ghetsis released him, N cried, but he didn't move anymore.

"Nobody is coming for you. Do you honestly think they care about you? They listen to me and only me, they know better, a lot more than you do. They know how to follow orders obediently. I'm disappointed in you."

"Daddy, please, I-" Everything hurt. All N could feel anymore was pain. "Why do things have to be this way? I'm scared, I'm so scared, I don't want this."

"There's no reason to be afraid, N. This isn't anything scary. Didn't I always tell you if you just listened to me, I wouldn't hurt you?"

"But you do." Still, more tears, more pain. N was so tired. Why wouldn't his daddy just kill him?

Ghetsis leaned away from him, not saying anything for a long time. Then finally, "I only do it because you're bad." That had always been his excuse, ever since N was little. Always, because he was bad, always because N never listened, because he never obeyed. Being hit meant he was bad.

"I just..." N sobbed. He was so tired, all he wanted was sleep. "Please. Daddy, I'm pleading with you. Let me go. If love doesn't exist, then what kind of existence is this, for me and you? Let me go, please. I'll leave and I won't ever bother you again."

Instead of responding, Ghetsis rose from the bed, disappearing into the bathroom before reappearing, something clutched in his hands. N felt like his entire weight sank into the mattress, realizing with horror why his father had drugged him. "I'm not letting you leave me, N. Haven't you been fucking listening to me? You're staying right here. You're going to stay with me forever. I won't let you leave, and I won't let you kill yourself. I have to make sure you won't be able to run away." He ended up at the foot of the bed, taking one hand and gently dragging his fingers along N's feet and ankles. In his opposite hand, he held the knife N had slit his wrist with. When N tried to move out of reflex, Ghetsis tightened his grip, digging his nails into N's flesh and saying, "No. If you kick me again, I'll make it worse than I intend to. I'm not against anything, N. If this doesn't work, then I'll just have to break your legs next time." Lifting N's leg again, he angled the knife before digging it into the back of his son's ankle.

N's body was on fire as he screamed. He recoiled backward, crying, choking, the breath knocked from him when his father dropped his foot, lifting the other one and repeating the process. Dull pain throbbed from his wrist, his body, and he couldn't move anymore, his feet hurting too much.

"This is just a warning."

N sobbed, trying to breathe, trying to block out the horror when Ghetsis moved on top of him, kissing him, muffling the cries his son made.

"I'll have Colress come in to tend to them, but if you run, if you so much as think of leaving this room, of leaving me, I'll break your god damn legs next time until you won't ever be able to walk again, do you understand me?"

N was shaking, sobbing, his wrists burning, his body sore, his ankles on fire. But he spoke. He didn't move anymore. "Y-y-yes, daddy." The knife was dropped, clanging to the floor. Ghetsis moved on top of him, smothering him with his body, kissing him again.

N cried when his father finished what he'd started earlier, his body being too shot to try fighting him off, to try saving himself, even though it was hopeless from the start. There was never any saving himself, there was never anyone coming to help him, N knew there was no way out. The pain under him was nothing new, the invading feeling was common, almost second nature. The feeling of being trapped, the horrible sickening feeling that rested in his stomach, his horror, all his fear, all his worries, it was gone.

When his daddy finished, N closed his eyes, wishing for sleep, for at least a small ounce of release. The last thing he remembered feeling were his father's lips against his own before N's world went black.


Kindly leave a review? Also, next chapter is the last. See you then.