Chapter Text
We first met at the Casino.
“ —and that’s another jackpot for me aha!”
Groans and complaints circulate around the table.
“How do you do it man? This is already the 7th time you won in a row!?” A gruff sounding man voiced out in disbelief.
“Let us less fortunate folks have a winning chance, will you?” A less than pleased lady complains.
“You all just need to play riskier, more daring!” There, at the center of it all, a man dressed in a glamorous red suit with a matching fedora sat, “99% of gamblers quit before hitting big, y’know?” The man finishes off with a wide confident smirk on his features.
His playmates would disagree.
“Easy for you to say… we normal folks don’t have that insane luck of yours.”
The man laughs once more, tipping the star shades settled over his eyes down, golden irises peeking over the rim, and a cocky gleam in his eyes matching the smile the person wore.
“Gotta pour your heart out for lady luck, maybe then she’d shine on ya’!”
At that, he stood up, smoothing out the front of his fit and shooting the audience at the table one final grin, and despite their earlier complaints, the group at the table bid the man a loud farewell of varying degrees.
Another person, one dressed in a fit similar to all the other employees befitting the place, approached the man, “Chance, sir. A VIP guest had personally requested your audience.”
The aforementioned, Chance, made a small noise of acknowledgement then nodded to the worker. “I’ll head over soon.” At that, the worker bowed then left quietly.
Chance walks idly, slow yet seamless, one with long strides, head tilted up high, a picture of confidence, as if they own the very ground they walk on.
That notion would not be very far off.
They passed by a waiter holding a tray full of glasses of half shots, grabbing hold of one and downing it in one go before placing it on a random table along the way.
Chance halts, looking around the new room he entered, before settling on a secluded booth meant for only special VIP requestees.
The first thing he noticed was a pale blonde; nearly snow-like under the bright lights of the casino.
“You must’ve paid such a hefty price just to get a one on one with me, huh?”
Chance plopped on the cushioned seat right across the man that had been waiting for him.
The fair skinned man made a small hum of acknowledgement, a perfect picture smile etched on his face, making him more attractive than necessarily so.
“You must be Chance, I presume?"
Chance grins widely, leaning forward and stretching his arms out in a dramatic flare before extending it towards the man, “In the flesh! You are…?”
The man’s smile stretches at the edges slightly, the reflective icy crystals of his crown twinkled under the lights.
“iTrapped. Pleasure to meet you…”
“Chance.”
—
We met once a week after that encounter, he never told me why, but every interaction we had made me want more.
There was just something about iTrapped that pulled me in…
“Trap! The usual?” Chance sat down in their usual spot, maybe a bit too eagerly.
iTrapped brought his hand up to his mouth, chuckling behind it. “The usual.” Chance grin widened, calling over a waiter to place their orders in. Afterwards, they reached into the insides of their black suit–
A new addition from what he was used to, a change in wardrobe, one that Chance started adopting after a comment from iTrapped mentioning him preferring more monotoned colours.
One compliment from iTrapped on his new appearance made him fill his closets in variations of black, white and greys of varying styles.
Sure, it might’ve been excessive, maybe even a bit pathetic from his side, but the praise from iTrapped sent a shiver through him, a really really pleasant one.
—pulling out a deck of cards, he expertly shuffled them through his fingers, showing off a few flips and tricks in the process.
iTrapped simply waited, an even smile on his face, unchanging since the beginning.
Chance faltered for a brief moment, only to grin widely again, though shifted to shuffling normally afterwards.
“Sooo…” Chance started, he always did, but that was fine…Trap’s probably still shy, sooner or later he’ll warm up to them eventually.
iTrapped simply continued looking straight at him, still with the same expression. Chance looks down at the cards on his hands and started evenly handing them out—
Only for one of them to slip off the table.
He scrambled to grab it, but as he reached his hand out, another touched his.
He froze.
His eyes trailed the hand, to up their arm, shoulders then… settling on iTrapped’s face.
Chance breath hitches, “Oh uh, I can–”
iTrapped smile finally stretches upward more, his soothing voice ringing pleasant chime bells into Chance’s ears, “Allow me.”
iTrapped’s hand gingerly took hold of the card, somehow the act looked needlessly graceful. Is that even possible?
Chance felt that same pleasant shiver running through him when iTrapped’s hands brushed against his in passing.
Chance dumbly glances down at his hands.
“Chance.”
“Yes?” They answered without thinking.
“I do believe we were in the midst of something moments ago, yes?”
Chance swiftly goes back to his original position, chuckling to hide his embarrassment. “Ahah… yeah, my bad. Let’s get back to it.”
…and before I knew it, I was too far deep into it already.
—
The change—it happened all too suddenly.
“Where’d he go…could’ve sworn it was somewhere here…”
Chance looks around the corridor, trying to spot any hint of pale yellow.
iTrapped told them to wait for him back at their usual booth but it’s been nearly half an hour now since he excused himself, and Chance was getting worried something might’ve happened to his pretty face—A very valid concern, of course. Their casino tends to attract quite the nasty fellas, so it was only right that they felt the need to check up on Trap.
Murmurs came from down a hallway.
"Hah! found ya'..."
Hearing the familiar voice of his companion, he rushes over.
“Tra—”
“I’m working on it, be patient. Sooner or later, Chance’ll give in.”
…Huh?
Chance stops in his track, before he knew it, he presses his back against the wall, staying completely still, silent.
iTrapped continued to speak.
“He’s pathetically easy. I didn’t have to do much either, just a few gestures here and there and he’s all wrapped around my finger. It’s laughable.”
He… Is he talking about… me? No, wait, he wouldn’t—
“I’m simply enjoying my time in the process, a few pretty words and he becomes a little obedient mutt.”
No…no that’s…
Chance shook his head, would have laughed at himself but caught it before he got found out— which is stupid to begin with. Why would he be scared to be found out by iTrapped?
Though Chance told himself so, he couldn’t will his rapidly beating heart to calm.
It isn’t me, it isn’t. So please–
"I'll get the key from him, It's only a matter of time."
Chance's mind screeches into a halt.
“—and if he refuses…”
Chance bit the inside of his cheeks.
Don’t– stop stop STOP—
“I’ll just kill him.”
.
.
.
A thud resounded in the hallway iTrapped was in, his head snapped to the noise.
“... I’ll get back to you later.” He spoke to whoever was on the other end of his phone before hanging up the call.
iTrapped’s eyes narrowed, his hand twitched, fingers stretching before darkness formed at his hand. The call for darkheart.
His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, stalking closer to the corner, in his hand gripped a fully formed sword swallowed in abyss.
Raising it, he turns the corner—
Seeing no one.
“...”
The sword quickly dispersed from his hand, no evidence that it had ever existed in the first place.
He takes a short glance once more at the empty hallway, before facing away.
He supposes he should go back now.
He sets off at a leisurely pace.
.
.
.
Heavy breathing and hiccups could be heard in the darkly lit room.
Chance had shoved himself in a janitors’ room, cleaning tools and other miscellaneous items digging into his back uncomfortably.
He looked disheveled, shades skewed, fedora tilted too much to the side. An image of a total mess.
The tears running down his face only added to it.
No amount of attempts to rid himself of the sobbing was helping, more salty globs of hot tears kept trickling down with no signs of stopping.
It felt so hard to breathe, ears ringing loudly, the earlier conversation— revelation, a constantly repeated record inside his mind.
iTrapped wouldn’t, he—
Chance sucks in a breath.
He’s going to kill him.
Kill.
Why?
Why would he—
It felt like static going through his ears, he knew the answer to that, iTrapped had mentioned it.
He just wished he didn’t.
The key.
The fucking key to the Banlands.
Of course, of course. Why did they think anyone would ever want a genuine relationship with them? All everyone ever sees in them was an opportunity, something to gain from.
iTrapped was no better than the rest of them.
All those months of getting closer, of thinking they were going somewhere, of thinking the bond they shared mattered.
That it was special.
Has it ever been special for iTrapped before?
It hurts thinking about it.
It hurts wanting it to be a lie.
It hurts knowing it’s the truth.
Finding out, it felt like my heart was constricted for days of no end.
I was lost, hurt, disappointed.
I should've just stopped interacting with him after that, cut him from my life, stay far away, yet I…
—
…kept trying.
“Trap!” Chance yelled out, hand raised high and waving amongst the crowd.
iTrapped who had been standing with his arms crossed, looked over at the voice, then softly sighing under his breath.
Chance jogs up to him, patting his back which was swiftly swat at.
“Chance..” iTrapped, face usually indifferent, had a more annoyed look to it now.
Chance grinned widely, pulling out a bouquet of flowers and outstretched it for iTrapped to take.
iTrapped took one glance and looked back up.
“Chance.”
“Yeah?”
“We’re out right now.”
“Mhm?”
“We’ll possibly be involved in a lot of activities today.”
“...”
“You know I have nowhere to put this, right?”
Chance chuckled at that, “I know, I know.. Don’t worry about it, I got a guy to keep it safe while we’re on our date–”
“An outing between companions.”
“...date.”
iTrapped lets out an annoyed sigh, deciding to not comment on it further.
Chance laughs victoriously, “C’mon Trap, you were the one who invited me—for once! I’d say this is a step towards–”
“Hush, let’s just get to it.”
Chance smiles lopsidedly at the moving figure of iTrapped’s back, following along shortly after in a short chuckle.
Maybe… If I kept trying, I could just change his mind…
—
…and for a moment, I had even thought that things got better. That my efforts did something.
“Trap…”
Chance looked up, eyes half lidded. For once, all of his head accessories were off, leaving his face bare and vulnerable, every expression on display, no longer hidden.
iTrapped hummed softly, an acknowledgement to their presence, glancing down at Chance who laid on his lap to return the stare.
“You.. you like me, right?” Chance had brought up suddenly, his sleep addled mind making him more loose than he would have been.
iTrapped did not answer immediately, instead he inclined his head up.
“Hey.. don’t look away, c’mon Trap, not even a simple yes or no?”
“... Go to sleep, Chance.”
Chance chuckled, a mix between dejection and acceptance. He had already expected the non-answer.
So they let themself get taken by the hands of slumber, leaning more into the odd warmth that iTrapped provided them, even when he always felt cold to the touch.
A silent whisper could be heard in passing, but Chance was already too deep into sleep to have heard.
Only one thing remains in the forefront of Chance’s mind as he slips further into unconsciousness.
That as long as they could stay the way they were currently.
That’s fine by Chance.
…Had he deluded himself too much?
—
I….
Small droplets of sweat form on Chance's forehead, trickling down and landing on the table in front of him.
A glint of a shine came from the table. There in the middle of it, innocently sat a revolver.
I tried so hard.
A hand placed itself on top of the gun, pushing it towards Chance, the sound of scraping of metal against wood rings in his ears.
A picture perfect smile aimed his way, one that could command him anything and he’d do it.
Did I not do enough?
…Was I… not enough?
“Chance.” …and that voice.
That sickeningly sweet sounding voice, it coils around his neck, sinking its fangs into his neck, injecting him with the delightful nectar of poison.
“You’d do this for me… right?”
If I can do this, maybe… just maybe he’ll change his mind.
“I’ll do it.”
His mind screams at him, the rational part of him shouting at his idiocy.
He ignored it.
Chasing for that small bit of fabricated hope.
That maybe this was the last needed step.
Everything depends on this.
—
“Hah…”
Crimson splattered all around him.
“AhahAHAHAH—Did you see that!”
His hysteric laughter resounded in the room, his other playmates laid unmoving, lifeless, around him.
“Trap! I did it– I DID IT!—”
Maybe this time…
“Yes… you… you did.” iTrapped sounded off, displeased.
Chance stops laughing, looking over at his… friend.
“...iTrapped?”
In iTrapped’s hand was a sword, one that swirled around in a darkness he couldn’t begin to describe.
“Hey Trap… y-you don’t need to do this.”
iTrapped was eerily silent, he only stalks forward, slowly but gradually inching closer. Yet even now, Chance couldn’t help but think how graceful he was, the way he carried himself, the way he moved.
“I knew this whole time! I knew you wanted to—to…” the words felt like lead in his throat, “..kill me, but I just—” Chance was desperate, still clinging on to the fantasy that iTrapped wouldn’t do it, that he wouldn’t just… get rid of them like this.
Chance steps forward, a bold move, a reckless one. An act that could only speed up the process of his ultimate end.
“ —I just wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt! That maybe if I…”
His words were cut off.
“...You know what I’m after.”
Chance halts, limbs falling slack beside him, eyes closed tightly behind the shades.
“...and you know my answer, Trap.”
iTrapped raises his blade, an arm length’s distance between him and Chance.
“Then there’s only one way this’ll go.”
The blade was only inches away, yet Chance grins— even if it was weak, crooked, a testament to his shattered will.
In a wavering voice, Chance whispered.
“...Did those times at least matter to you?”
The silence that came was Chance’s only answer.
Chance smiles sadly, and closes his eyes.
.
.
.
Maybe.
I should’ve never tried.
Freshly spilled crimson painted the floor.
The voices that filled the room were no more.
A person dressed in mono laid in the middle of crimson.
Next to them stood a person dressed in white, blues and yellows.
“...I’ve always thought you looked good in red.”
Spoken in soft, his words left to the visages of the dead that could no longer respond.
“Farewell…”
“Chance.”