Bless 8tracks and every person who creates playlists on there, this was made possible because of them.

Writing in Chloé's POV is… hard. She needs to sound bratty and selfish at all times, but she also needs to sound scared.

Oh, I should also say that this story does take an even darker turn and may present themes that could not be suitable for some readers, so your discretion is advised. I'd like to point said themes out in the tags but that would just spoil the whole plot of this story, really. Reason why I will be putting some disclaimers in the chapters that I think could deal with some more sensitive topics. Don't be afraid of contacting me through my tumblr if you have any questions regarding this! (my url is naminamae)

Disclaimer: Chloé gets threatened and Plagg gets deliberately hurt. There is also a scene involving Adrien and Chloé being in a suggestive position, but it should not be considered as sexual; more than anything it is just a way in which she is threatened, and she is not sexually harassed or anything of the kind.

The eyes that were looking at her were ancient, she realised. She was being observed from head to toe with a patience that made her blood freeze in her veins, as if whatever was in front of her had all the time in the world at their disposal to just look at her. For the first time in her life, Chloé was feeling uncomfortable in her own skin, an unfamiliar wish of disappearing from planet Earth resurfacing from somewhere within her.

She didn't like that. Actually, she hated it.

There were only a few people in the world that were allowed to make her feel uncomfortable: one was his father, and the other was Adrien. The fact that this ghost of sort was doing this to her enraged her, but she could not move or find the strength to yell back at him.

Chloé didn't believe in ghosts. She believed that the only thing that could come to own somebody were money and power, and the only supernatural exception she had allowed herself to believe in were Hawkmoth's akumas. She had a very neutral opinion of any religious belief, and considered naive those who let those ideas guide their existence; doing everything the way she wanted, when she wanted and how she wanted was simply more logical and overall much more satisfying than a life of sacrifice for a questionable religious cause.

Her skepticism was futile, however, in the situation that was unfolding right before her eyes. That person, whoever was facing her at the opposite side of the eerie room she was in, was not Chat Noir.

The superhero she was so used to mock radiated warmth and happiness, and, even though she would never admit it, he brought a feeling of security alongside with him. None of that was left, now: all that was present in the room were the dim, bluish lights, the palpable sensation of fear, and the unmistakable scent of death.

She whimpered when he moved, his head slowly tilting to the side as his mouth stretched in a soft smile. His eyes were still on her, and her legs refused to move. She found herself staring right into the threatening green ponds that seemingly knew her so well. She didn't know whether to be reassured or scared when she understood that she was being looked at with amusement, as someone would look at a caged puppy in a dog pound.

Get out, she told herself. Get out of there, run!

But where to? She would have gladly left Chat Noir behind - her own safety came first, after all, and there wasn't much she could have done for him anyway - but she had no idea of where she was or where to run off to. Outside of the little hallway everything was engulfed by darkness and she was currently missing a shoe, since she had used it to defend herself from Chat's moment of craziness. There was no way that she would just step into the putrid waters of the sewers with her naked, delicate, and pedicured foot, not even if her life depended on it. Her mascara and hair were already ruined, and she had no idea of what condition her clothes were in; she had suffered enough.

Chloé was at his mercy, she realised, and "Chat Noir" seemed to know it as well. He didn't even bother looking at her anymore, and focused on his own self instead. Normally being ignored in that way, especially after having looked at her like that for so long, would have made her angry beyond reason, but for once she was actually glad that she was not the centre of the attention.

He studied his hands and feet, moving them around with the curiosity that was so usual of those annoying little children who just got excited over anything, and even tried to look at his back, particularly interested by his black tail. The smile was still present on his face as he ran his hands through his hair and face, stopping at the height of his cheekbones and ears to further examining them.

His eyes finally fell on his knuckles, and his grin softened at the sight of the black ring.

"A child of misfortune," he commented, amused. It was a whisper, something that Chloé was not supposed to hear. "Of course he would be drawn to me."

The small phrase was followed with a surprised hand reaching for his throat, delicate and gentle, and then widening, satisfied eyes.

He must have liked the sound of his voice. Chloé found that absolutely terrifying.

She had never realised how frightening Chat Noir's figure was, how terrifying his cat-like orbs, his curled up lips and sharp claws could become if seen from under another perspective.

Child of misfortune, he had said. That's what he looked like; someone that embodied the worst of the worst, someone evil.

That was just another reason to get away from there, but she couldn't find the strength to do so. Her legs wouldn't move. Now that the idea of the pitch black, smelly sewers had started to appeal to her, her own body had decided to not respond to her. Could one be annoyed at herself? Because she certainly was at the moment, and she was not used to that.

A flash of light blinded her, forcing her to close her eyes and engulfing the room in a bright green colour that took over the bluish lights for a second. Once she had found the courage to open them again, she had to hold herself to the wall - one that seemed to only be adorned with latin inscriptions and no skulls thankfully - to not fall on her knees.

Before her, Chat Noir was no longer there; in his place, there was someone she knew well, too well. There was also a flying black thing that looked too much like a rat, but she didn't have time to look at that.

Adrien Agreste, or better, the body of Adrien Agreste was standing a couple of metres away from her.

Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir.

Chat Noir was not in control of his body anymore.

The world began to turn around her, as if the hallway she was in was moving on its own, and something started to press from the bottom of her stomach to the tip of her throat. The feeling of nausea was accompanied with the shaking of her entire body, which now seemed to be unrestful as she made herself smaller and smaller against the stone wall.

The love of her life, the model that she so desperately had a crush on, the only one that she considered to be on her same level was Chat Noir, the superhero that she had so often mocked and disrespected.

And he was in danger.

Chloé was going to be sick; she wasn't used to worrying for people, she always thought that her own self should be her main concern, but Adrien was one of the few people that had always deserved her attention and care, and the fact that she had no idea of what to do made her feel terrible.

Something, a high-pitched voice caught her attention. Her eyes caught with disbelief what they had chosen to ignore a moment ago: the small, angry black cat - it wasn't a rat in the end, and maybe she would have been glad for that in another situation - that was floating around Adrien. She watched as it literally attacked the boy, biting him on the arms where his skin was free of his white shirt, and hissed at him while she wondered what the heck that was. Her head threatened another wave of vertigo and a horrible feeling of nausea, her mind too focused on trying to make sense of the many things that were happening around her.

First, her foot was still bare on the ground, that was annoying. Secondly, she had been dragged down there without her permission, her clothes and makeup had been completely ruined as well. Thirdly, Chat Noir had gone nuts on her for some reason that she still didn't understand and he was now possessed or completely out of himself. And now she just found out that he was Adrien underneath the mask, and a flying black cat was attacking him with little success.

That was too much. She couldn't take this.

Adrien didn't flinch when the small fangs pierced his skin; he merely eyed the creature, his pupils narrowing as he tilted his head to the side. He then grabbed it by its tail and threw it mercilessly on the ground, obtaining a small cry of pain.

"It is a pleasure to meet you here," his voice was calm, but he did not manage to hide his confidence and amusement as he put a foot on the tiny monster, preventing it from escaping, "god of Calamity Plaga."

"Get out of my chosen!" the thing hissed. "Get away from him!"

So the thing even spoke fluent French. Chloé was going to go insane.

"Now," Adrien smiled, and this time he did not even try to hide the malice behind his words. "That is not the treatment that I was expecting from a fellow immortal such as yourself."

"Were you expecting pastries and tea after having possessed my chosen's body? Really?"

Plaga, was it? Plaga didn't sound scared. He was sassy. And annoyed. And very, very angry.

"I don't know who you are and what you want, and I still don't know how you managed to bring Adrien here," he continued, "but you have to get out of him. Now."

"Or what?" the blond's tone was daring. His smile sent chills down Chloé's spine. "You will curse me?" his foot pressed harder on the small creature, making Plaga groan. "Don't try to fool me, Plaga. I'm too old for that." He brought his right hand up, observing his silver ring. "Your ring is what keeps you stable and tied to this world, but it is also your cage. You can't do anything to me without using a vessel."

Plaga gritted his teeth, furious. A black aura started to surround him, traveling on Adrien's leg and around the room, reaching finally Chloé's feet. As soon as she came in contact with it, a feeling of dread and fear spread throughout her entire body; her teeth started to rattle, her body to shake. That thing was concentrated evil, there was no other way to describe it. She felt as if her own body could have started to fall apart one moment to the other, and dark, horrible ideas started to cloud her mind, harsh voices screaming in her head in pure pain and despair.

"Free my chosen. Do not make me repeat myself."

Too much, it was too much for her to handle. The voices were getting louder, more violent in her head as they fought one another to obtain dominance over her suffering. She pressed her hands to her ears in vain, trying desperately to make them stop, to somehow block them as her eyes narrowed in fear.

Adrien did not move. He simply eyed the black aura with interest, only to look again at the black cat underneath his foot.

"I'm afraid I won't do that. We will have to share this host for a while, whether you want it or not."

All of a sudden, everything stopped. The aura retreated, joining again Plaga on the ground, the voices finally leaving a shaky Chloé behind.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Plaga was more quiet, now. He was defeated, possibly even tired.

Adrien grinned. "Finally deciding to acknowledge me, are we? Or maybe you understood that you need to cooperate with me if you want to protect your chosen?"

He didn't receive an answer from the other. Adrien didn't need one in order to continue.

"Names are a useless thing, really. Something that mortals use to try to establish their identity and identify what is around them to claim it as their own. I don't need such a thing, but I was once named, just like you were."

Throbbing, Chloé's head was throbbing and hurting so, so badly. She was about to faint, she was too weak. But she couldn't, not now; she felt as if her every move was what kept everything in balance and allowed her to not be noticed by the two figures, and she couldn't allow herself to break the delicate equilibrium that was possibly keeping her alive.

"Why don't you guess what I am?"

Plaga hissed.

"Fuck off."

She needed to hold on just a little longer, she could do it. Right?

"That's a shame," Adrien's hand was now running through his hair again. "It would have been fun to see you trying."

Slowly, his head turned to the side, and his eyes fell on Chloé.

"Ah," he said as his right foot was moved in her direction, leaving an exhausted and hurt Plaga on the ground. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you."

Chloé's legs gave out, her figure hitting the floor hard as she began to wheeze. He was coming towards her, he wanted to do something to her and she didn't know what, but her throbbing head couldn't think of anything that wouldn't include a great amount of pain.

Her voice found a way out her throat, unsteady and scared. "S-stay away!"

She could feel her heart trying to break out free from her chest, beating fast as he approached her slowly. His calm was terrifying to no end, as if he knew that she had no way of escaping him.

"Stay away from me!"

She just wanted to go home, she just wanted him to turn around and let her go to her Papa at home and sleep, sleep until her head would get better. She would wait to wash her hair and face, she would think about makeup and her beauty products later, once she was feeling good. But he didn't want to do leave her alone, he wanted to do something to her and she didn't know how to stop him. How could she send him away? How could she save herself?

She had to think. No, she couldn't, she didn't have the time, he was getting close! He was going to get her!

"M-my father is the Mayor! You can't- he won't let you get away with this!"

Hers had been an automatic reflex, something that had come to her in a moment of panic because of how often she had used it in the past. She never thought it could work or help her in any way.

But it did.

Adrien stopped in his tracks and gave her a curious look, his head tilting to the side. She found herself swallowing hard as he closed his eyes for a moment and brought his hand to his temple. He stayed like that, deep in thought, for a good minute, time in which Chloé's blood had completely stopped circulating through her veins.

"That's right," he said. "You are the Mayor's daughter."

He stared at her, as if he was expecting something. She nodded.

"And you are an old friend of Adrien… how cute. It's nice to know that I might have a use for you now, Chloé." She had never told him her name. How did he know her name? "Especially since you could reveal yourself to be quite the useful hostage."

Hostage?

She had no time to express any of her doubts, as he quickly moved towards her, ending up kneeled in front of her. He was staring right in her eyes as he pushed his hand forward, reaching for her left breast and pushing hard against it, until she could feel the echo of the beating of her uncontrollable heart reach the palm of his hand. Her right hand was grabbed as she yelped and tried to get away from his grip, utterly terrified, and placed on his chest, over his own heart.

"Don't- don't touch me!"

"Hush, hush." His face got closer to hers, his nose almost touching hers. His eyes had a malice that could not belong to anyone human, and yet he seemed calm. "I am not going to hurt you."

Chloé didn't believe that, not with his hand still on her breast and him being so close to her.

"My father... I'll tell my father and he will- you will pay!" She struggled again, tears forming in her eyes.

"Chloé." His voice was firm and so, so calm. She didn't like that, he didn't feel human at all while talking like that. "I am not going to hurt you. I mean it." He squeezed her hand tightly on his chest. "Listen to the beating of this heart, Chloé. Can you feel it?"

She breathed in, holding her breath. Sick, she was going to be sick again.

"This heart that is now mine as well, can you feel it beating against the palm of your hand?"

She could, but she didn't know why it should have mattered.

"Y-yes," she tried to say.

"I want you to listen to it and breathe. I want you to calm down."

She didn't know why, but she did as he said. It was not like she had much choice anyway, but she found herself listening to Adrien's steady heartbeat and long breaths, and soon enough, her own heart was attempting to calm itself to get to the same speed of Adrien's. Her head was throbbing less now, she discovered, and her nausea had almost gone away. A sense of exhaustion was slowly taking over her as she sat in silence with whoever was inside of Adrien's body now, calming herself down.

"Do you want Adrien to live?"

Suddenly, she felt the tranquil, repeated beat disappear from underneath the palm of her hand, which was pushed harder on the boy's chest. His eyes always locked on hers with an unchanging expression, observing her as she realised she couldn't find any sign of his heartbeat. Drops of sweat started to drop from her forehead, and her body began shaking like a leaf under the strong grasp that was holding her pressed to the wall.

Adrien's heart had stopped.

It had stopped, and he was just kneeled in front of her as if nothing had happened to him.

"I can kill him anytime I want, Chloé."

A familiar rhythm made itself present on the boy's chest. Her body relaxed, the tension that she didn't know she had slowly washing away from her shoulders. She started crying.

"I can hurt him, and I can hurt you as well."

The hand that was on her breast suddenly moved to her sternum, pushing down against her ribcage with great strength and causing her to have trouble breathing. She wheezed between tears and sobs, her own hand attempting to push him away only to find that she couldn't move him of an inch.

"If you want things to work out smoothly, you will have to do as I say." His voice was like a cold shower on her; it left her trembling and cold, vulnerable. "You are not a stupid girl - maybe just a little selfish - so I'm sure you understand the situation you are in."

The hand that was hurting her chest left her, causing her to slip down a little more towards the cold floor. Chloé turned to the side, freeing her grip from the boy and bringing her elbows to the ground as they sustained her. He was so unnervingly calm, still towering her with those green eyes of his, and she was just so, so tired and sick. Her breathing wouldn't just go back to normal, and she didn't know why; he hadn't choked her, he was just applying pressure on her sternum, but the air that she inhaled just never seemed to be enough for her aching lungs.

Everything was amplified around her: every breath Adrien took, every shift of his body made her jump out of her skin. As fear invaded her senses and her throbbing head didn't leave her a minute of peace, she spotted him eyeing her from above, his face completely emotionless.

He wasn't human.

He wasn't human, he wasn't human, he wasn't human and she was so sick, sick, sick.

"You'll do as I say," he started, soft lips moving slowly away from one another. "You are not to tell anyone what has happened to Adrien, and you are to be at my disposal whenever I ask for your service."

She didn't feel good, she wanted to go home, away from him.

He wasn't human.

"If you happen to disobey me, your friend dies. And rest assured, I will come for your throat before I slice his."

She couldn't breathe and she just felt so warm, she wanted it all to end. She had never lost consciousness before, but understood now what everyone meant when they said that it felt as if the world was shutting down around them. With her senses revolted against her and her aches, she just wished she could hurry up already and just faint. It was sheer torture, what she was going through: not only was she feeling awful, but she was also stuck with someone who could hurt her at any moment and had threatened of killing her. She almost welcomed the black spots that started to decorate the corners of her vision.

Voices sounded distant now and muffled, and things seemed to start to get blurry, unfocused around her. Adrien moved to his feet, approaching her and possibly attempting to communicate something to her, but she didn't understand a word of what he was saying.

Still, the unmoving, eternal eyes that scared her so much accompanied her through the journey of her loss of consciousness, never leaving her in their inhuman coldness while she laid on the cold ground. Thin lips that were pressed together twisted upwards, and his face darkened, his green orbs widening as they showed again the hidden, sadistic malice that she had grown to fear.

It was with the eerie sound of a poisonous laugh that Chloé finally drifted off to complete darkness.