Chapter Text
“Fuck”
You whimpered out as your jaw clenched and unclenched, sweat covering your face and body. Your body was hit with a wave of hot and cold flashes, your throat growing only toghter while your eyes darted frantically around the dimly lit room of your dingy apartment. The uncontrollable shake and vibrations of your hands caused the knife to hit the cold tiles with a clink. Red rivers pooling around the weapon as the smaller streams joined up to the larger oceans of blood infront if you. You could feel your throat expand and constrict as the bile built up in the esophagus, begging to be let out.
You felt sick.
You felt faint.
In one sudden motion your stomach and legs bent in towards the floor, knees hitting the hard tile. You gagged as you threw up what looked like stomach acid onto the ground. The sick mixing in with your tears, sweat and blood in a whirlpool, that made you hurl only more - emptying your already empty stomach to nothing. Gagging and choking air at the ground. Your stomach still convulsing from the fear and horror that you had just witnessed. That you had done.
You wanted it to end.
Somewhere deep in your mind this still all looked like a fever dream, a hallucination. A nightmare. Your eyes drifted back up across the floor as they were met with the same scene as just moment ago. A gray hand stretched out towards you. Its blue-purple fingertips relaxed in a way that could only be described as eerie. Your gaze drew further up the arm, then shoulder and chest as the gray slowly turned into brown and then red. Fresh blood still spilling from the wound in his chest, wedging itself further into the fabric. Its thin, delicate streams engraved in your mind as they overlaped and faded into the shirt.
It was twisted.
Sick and twisted.
The once temporary relief was now gone as the true consequence of your actions set in, deep into your mind and morals. You couldn’t help but feel remorse, feel disgusted within yourself - in your actions and lack of control. You couldn’t help but feel the need to rip your own skin off, if it meant this endless nightmare would end.
Your shaky hands began to push up, your breath unsteady as your body slowy left the cold kitchen floor. Tears stinging at your eyes and lungs not quite full. Breathing more. Opening your mouth more. You needed more air. You couldn’t breathe. Was this the punishment for your actions? You dying along with this pathetic piece of shit of a man that had been bleeding out on the floor. No, you needed to get out, to get outside.
Your scrambled across the floor, knees and hands shaking as you held yourself steady against the wall. All emotions hit you at once as the sudden adrenaline forced you to move. You needed to get out of here. Out before anyone found you.
Forcing your legs to move faster, your knees to bend more and feet to run, you pushed your way out of the room and down the stairs. Opening the door of the building. The soft yellow light of the polluted air around you hit your face, your breathing becoming as steady as it can get in a state of panic. Your eyes were frantic, vision still blurred by the fear and built up tears. You were suddenly thrown off course, face plummeting into the hard ground, nose and cheeck scraping against the sharp shards of rubbish on the floor.
“Shit”, you groaned. Your voice tight and raspy as tears started to finally stream down your face, soaking into the dry ground.
“Fuck, you okay?” a faint voice spoke behind you, as you felt a hand creep up towards you shoulder. The contact not quite there but enough to make you flinch, hitting the ground once again now with your side. Your eyes wide and alert as you tried to make out the figures infront of you. Your breathing fast and a hand at your waist, grapsing itself tightly around a small doll attached at your hip. “Fuck, I’m sorry, you okay?” the voice spoke again this time a bit clearer, closer. You could see the hand reaching for your shoulder once again, making you tighten your grip around the doll, breathing just as frantic as the look on your face. It stopped halfway, mere inches away from you skin before drawing back.
Your gazed up at the man infront of you, his features blurring into a mess of yellow and grey. Tears still pouring down your face, shoulders shaking and lip quivering. Your eyes followed the man as he crouched down on his knees infront of you, eyes peering into yours. You could feel him pick you apart. You could feel him try and venture too far into your mind.
It made you sick.
Made you want to throw up all over again.
His voice turned into a faint mutter in the background as a sort of static filled your ears. Your hand clasped around the doll attached at your hip, you could feel it pulsate. You could feel its warmth and safety as you unclipped it from your shorts.
You wanted him gone.
He had no right touching you.
He had no right looking at you.
His gaze still burning into you, his mouth still talking, still trying to pick you apart. You hated it.
The doll , that was once in your hand, was now on the ground, its fabric glowing in a pink hue, small flames slowly engulfing it. The irritating voice in the background began to fade as your hand reached into the air and hit the dolls stomach into the ground. Power and relief washing over you as you did so. As if the anger, the pain, the fear over the years - no, decades was finally let out in one smooth punch.
Your eyes travelled up, the man infront of you now hurling as bile spewed from his mouth and onto the ground. “Shit”, he croaked, “the hell just happened?”. Your vision began to clear and the once violent heat in your heart began to die down - the man’s features becaming more visible. His dirty blonde hair shook as he spat out the last bit of sick onto the ground. A scar stretched across the side of his undercut, it looked old, completely healed yet still clearly visible. He wore a low cut red shirt with a grey coat, covered in uniform like black stripes and a golden emblem on his chest - a symbol you couldn’t quite recognise. As he lifted his head, large golden eyes caught your attention, they glared into you. That uncomfortable feeling of being picked apart rushing back once again.
Did you just hit him?
But how?
A faint smirk spread across his face, one you couldn’t quite read. “Well would you look at that,” his voice still rapsy, “ I hit jackpot again.” Your hand reached for you doll once more, bring it up to you chest and squeezing it in your hands. What was this lunatic talking about? Just as he started to reach his hand out for you once again, another voice got your attention, stopping your growing panic for a moment.
“Hey girl, you good?”
Infront of you was another figure, a girl, on the shorter side and skinny. Her smile was big and warm, welcoming almost. Her eyes weren’t as sharp, as picky as the man’s, much softer and less alarming. You gave her a small nod. Muttering some form of apology under your breath as an attempt to explain yourself but it only seemed to make it worse as the panic jumbled your words up into a chaos of stutter and gibberish.
“Woah, girl its okay, don’t worry about it” she giggled, your mumbling fading to a stop as she spoke, her voice calming and reassuring. “He deserved it anyway, trying to touch a scared girl on the street, asshole”, she laughed, the man shooting daggers at her from the ground before rolling his eyes and starting to get up.
“I’m Riyo by the way” she said, reaching her hand out to you. You were reluctant to take it, alarm bells ringing in your head not to, but your knees were weak and bleeding and your arms weren’t much better, so you did. She pulled you up slowy back onto your feet as the other man introduced himself as Enjin. They were talking about some bullshit about how you were a Giver, how you should join them at the Cleaners, how they could help you. You just stood there leaning against the concrete wall, motionless and empty. What were you supposed to say? Their presence seemed to loom over you, warming yet still threatening.
“I promise your safe here” one of them said, you couldn’t tell which one, but it sounded calming - genuine.
So you nodded, putting your arm around Riyo’s shoulder as she helped you get to their car, the doll held tight in your other hand. When you arrived at the jeep’s parking spot, you climbed into the back next to her, exhaling a slow, deep breath. You seemed to almost melt into the soft seats of the car, they weren’t perfect but better than whatever you were used to back at home. Your walls were still up, you weren’t stupid or naive. They were strangers none the less. Yet the weakness the exhausting hit you as soon as your back relaxed against the cheap leather. Shutting your eyes, putting you to sleep.