#am writes

You'd been in King's Landing for 10 days without so much as an unescorted walk along the palace. Maybe it was your father's paranoia, or your mother's awareness of your less "civil" interests but they'd kept you on a short leash. They'd been hoping to use King Joffery's wedding as an impromptu dating event, hoping to convince you to marry. But you had your eyes on a much better prize.

Prince Oberyn of Dorne. Tales of his…escapades crossed rivers and mountains as did tales of his beauty. If the tales were true- well you simply had to find your way into his bed!

Which is where you found yourself now. On the precipice on the prince's doorway. After sneaking past guards and the watchful eye of your mother, you had made it. You watch him lie lowly in the sun, feeding himself from a basket of fruits he'd had brought to him. The tales did him no justice. Spread across the lounger, he was long and slender, not much unlike a viper at all. He moved with an insurmountable grace. Every move of his hands was controlled and swift. Even now you could envision how he earned the title The Red Viper.

His face is uniquely chiseled. Dark brown hair barely curls up on his forehead. A beautiful arched nose that reaches up towards the gods, old and new. His soft pouty lips wrap around a strawberry. Juices dribble down his chin that he eagerly wipes off with his thumb and returns to his mouth. A quiet pop as he releases his thumb from his mouth with a smile.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" The Prince turns to face you, dark brown eyes tracing over the intruder. "Or do we have business?"

For just a moment, you freeze. Prince Oberyn's gaze sat heavy on your body, pinning you in place. His eyes drink down the sight of you. Suddenly, you were very pleased with yourself for dressing well. The fabric you wore was clung nicely to your body. You'd purposely chosen something that was soft to touch.

"My Prince," you say with an unsteady bow, "I was told you may seek some company up here…I thought I would offer you my services."

"Services?" He repeats, eyebrows raised. "What is it you have to offer me?"

"Anything you want, but I thought I'd start by feeding you, My Prince."

He chuckles quietly, resting his head back against the cushioned lounger. When you do not immediately go to move he prompts you, "I don't like waiting!"

"Y-yes, My Prince." With that you nod and shuffle over to him. Gods, he was even more lovely close up. His hair looks so soft and fluffy. You wanted to run your hands through it. From above, you can see down the low V of his mustard robe. His bare chest and neck were intoxicating to look at.

"The grapes to start." He hums below you, eyes closed.

You do as he asks. Taking the bundle of grapes and lowering them down to his lips. Watching with excitement as he pulls it between his teeth. A groan of happiness spilling from him. He continues on, one after another. A subtle smirk clings to his face as he feels your eyes trace over his body.

"Do you find this amusing?" He humors you, taking another grape between his teeth.

"I do not know what you mean, My Prince." You say smiling, trying to put on your best show.

"Posing as a servant. Feeding me grapes in this-" his hand falls from his chest and lands on your back, thick fingers tracing over the thin fabric resting on your spine. "most exquisite fabric. If I were a lesser man I would ask what you want, but I can see what you want." He leans in closer to your chest, "I can see in your face that your feelings are driving you wild." He smirks, reclining back in his chair with a laugh and removing his hand from you.

He'd seen right through you…your face grows warm at the realization. "I'm sorry, My Prince…I was curious-"

"Do not apologize." He cuts you off. "But I must ask- Does your mother know?" He chides with a smile

"Know what, My prince?"

"That her child has snuck out to proposition the prince of Dorne?"

"I am grown. I need not the approval of my mother."

"Grown." He scoffs

"Enough." You retort.

The quickness of your response catches his attention. His eyes snap up to meet yours, "Quite the tongue you have, Little Viper." The Prince slithers out of his chair, quickly crowding you. "Grown enough, hm? I will be the judge of that."

You whine at the harsh grip Oberyn has on your waist. He looks down at you, taking inventory of your features. Even going as far to spin you, wanting to look at you from all sides.

"Cute." The Prince marks nonchalantly. "But young." He says with a shrug. His hands fall from your sides as he takes a step back. "Come back to me in …two sun cycles. Then we shall see."

Recovering from having his hands on you, you slowly process what Oberyn said, "Two years?"

"Yes. Do you take issue with that?" He asks, returning to his bowl of fruits and throwing a raspberry in his mouth.

"I may be married in two years, Prince Oberyn. Do you not wish to take what is not already claimed?" You attempt to reason with him.

He smirks, "Certainly there will be enough room in your marriage bed for a third."

You pout at his assertion.

"Oh, do not pout Little Viper. I will still flirt with you." His deep brown eyes flick up to catch yours, "Dance with you…if you wish. But no more."

"My Prince…do most men not seek young partners? Why is it you turn me away?"

Oberyn muses the question for a moment, an eyebrow raised as he ponders. It was true, most men sought young brides and young men to take to their beds. Youth was priceless. A nonrenewable resource. But for Oberyn, he was always a bit greedy when it came to lovers. He cared not for young adults still struggling to fill out their frames. He wanted their entirety. The best of them. All of them there ever would be. Chests filled out, shoulders wide, faces matured. He wanted them at their best.

"Allow me to show you, Little Viper." The Prince offers you his hand.

You put your hand in his, allowing him to lead you away to the balcony. Together you cross the threshold to the bedroom where he leads you to a large mirror. He stands you before it, taking his place behind you.

"Look at yourself." He runs his hands over your hips. "I wish to see how you grow. You are a pretty rose…but not yet in bloom." He nips at your neck. "Here…" Oberyn's nose runs along your cheek, "your cheeks are still round with youth." A large hand runs across your shoulders. "and these are not yet at their full width." His other arm moving lower down your thigh, "Hips are lovely, but not yet at their proper shape yet." His hands retreat down your waist, holding you still for him. "You still have much growing to do." Oberyn comes close to whisper into your ear, " And I never pluck a rose too soon." Finishing his assessment, his eyes wander up to your face. a curious question growing in his throat. "Tell me Little Viper- are you untouched?"

"What consequence is it to you?"

The reflection of his face in the mirror goes serious. "Because. If I were to bend you over that table, and force my way into your walls the way you tempt me to. It would be a most unpleasant experience for one so pure." A pleased smile returns to his face at the way you hold your breath. "The price would be yours to pay, Little Viper. Thankfully for you, I consider myself a most merciful prince." He grounds his bulge into your behind, a low moan escaping him as he does. "Now. Return to the nest in which you came, Little Viper." He pushes you off with a firm snack on the ass, making you jolt.

You sciddle off shyly accepting his rejection. Perhaps you had been in a bit over your head. As you turn the corner off the balcony, you look behind you to see him watching you. Feeling a bit brave you call back to him, "In two sun cycles I will return!"

It was so fast, Jimmy’d always hated the moments after he died and would spawn back in the SMP he’d been in before, his whole body still felt sore as if the wounds were still open, that he was still bleeding and could still feel the eyes on him as he died. Worse off this time he’d taken someone with him, and he didn’t even get to say goodbye this time. Tears welled up in Jimmy’s eyes as he fell to the floor, knees hitting the wood hard enough to bruise them, and he quietly swore then, making an apology to a soulmate he was no longer bound with. And when he realized that Tango wasn’t bound to him anymore and that he’d lost him, possibly for good, the tears came harder.

His wings curled around him as he wailed, and all he could do was put his head in his hands and cry, making a million apologies to someone who wasn’t with him anymore. He was first out, the curse continued, and he’d taken Tango with him, and Tango had loved him so much, and he had felt so safe with Tango - He let out another choked sob. It wasn’t like he could even go to Scott or Joel for comfort right now, as much as he wouldn’t want to in the first place, they weren’t even here right now, still on Double Life and still alive. And it wasn’t like anyone else in the server would understand - He thought maybe, if he could get himself up, he could go to Lizzie, but would she even really understand what had happened, how frustrated he was that he died first again? He was always out first. Always. And void, did he hate that stupid canary curse.

As the days went on, more and more people came back. Scott was last. Jimmy thought having his friends back, around him - Both of them had come to check on him the moment they got back - Would help him feel better. Instead it just made it worse. He’d tried to talk to them about it, a little bit, but it always ended with him in tears, crying over and over again about Tango. He missed the way he could feel the heat radiating off of him, how when they hugged he felt secure- He missed their ranch, all of their cows, how Tango helped him keep all of them - And he wailed more and more for his lost love. More and more for the curse he’d brought upon Tango when they got bound. More and more because this was all his fault, and he was sure if he ever saw Tango again Tango was going to hate him. He got Tango out first, why wouldn’t he?

Every time Jimmy saw someone acting sweet, even to their friends, his heart ached. Every time he’d watch people be romantic, kiss, his heart hurt. It felt like someone had took an arrow to his chest and then pulled it out, only to shoot it back in. It was hard for him to even go out and do anything. Of course, his friends got concerned for him, but he never really told them what was going on. His eyes always looked glazed over, his actions dull and repetitive. What was he supposed to do here now? What was he supposed to do without Tango? He could barely even look at the fires and pieces of red stone he’d fine without wanting to fall to the floor again.

Then there was the news of the portal. Despite how depressed Jimmy felt he felt a tug, somewhere in his chest, to go see who would come through. And when the first person he was was Grian he wanted to run, he felt sick. Whiplash of everything from Double Life came back, even harder, and he had to turn away and run to not break down there. Grian had watched his friend - If he could be considered that anymore, anyway - Run off, and a pang of guilt sunk in his chest. Unfortunately for Jimmy, Grian soon got distracted with other things. He didn’t even remember to tell Jimmy that Tango was here now.

Jimmy could hear the footsteps outside of his house, hear people mingling and talking like everything was alright. He curled his wings around himself again, head sinking into his knees as he choked back sobs. He might as well let them all have their fun, after all they hadn’t really done anything too wrong here. He felt the tug on his chest again, but it only made him cry harder. He wanted to hit himself, wanted to hurt himself to give punishment for killing Tango. He bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, to hold back his sobs and stop any urge.

Then he heard them, footsteps in his house, and he’d never been more scared. What if someone’s first impression of him was this? A pathetic man crying on the floor over a lost love who probably had forgotten about him or didn’t love him anymore. He wanted to clean himself up, to get up and act like everything was okay, but he couldn’t. Instead he sat there on the floor beside his bed, curled up into as small of a ball as he could manage, wings wrapped around him and hiding him from whatever, or whoever, was about to stumble onto him.

“I don’t know why you’re looking for him, but yeah, this is his house. Usually he’s here?” Fwhip, was talking to someone. Someone was looking for him, dammit, dammit, if they found him like this- He didn’t even want to know what would happen. He flinched even more when he heard the footsteps right outside his door. It sounded like two people walked up, then- Fwhip had said something about needing to go, and - He heard one pair of footsteps walk away. The other person was still outside his door. And he hated the way he cowered and trembled at the idea of someone coming in on him like this.

There was a soft knock on the door, the knob turning, and then - “Jim?” His voice was so soft, and when Jimmy heard it he wanted to run to it and simultaneously tell him to go away and never come back. When he felt Tango’s eyes on him he expected him to berate him, yell at him for getting them killed. That wasn’t what happened at all, though. Instead, he heard the footsteps rushing towards him, he curled up more, and then he felt those warm hands pull away his wings ever so gently. “Jimmy?” He asked again, and it sounded like Tango was going to start crying.

Jimmy sucked in a breath, wanting to say a million things, but all he could actually manage out was an array of apologies and more tears. He was shaking, he was shaking and crying and his rancher was holding him again and he wanted to rush into his arms but he knew he couldn’t. “Oh, Jimmy-” Tango managed out, and Jimmy could hear the tears slipping down his cheeks now. He didn’t have time to wonder if they should be evaporating or not. “Oh, Jim, why are you sorry-?” He asked, rushedly, hands clasping around Jimmy’s cheeks. Jimmy looked up at Tango, and the tears came more. He didn’t even have time to think about how different he looked right now, and his eyes locked with Tango’s and he let out more choked sobs.

“I got us killed-” Jimmy wailed, eyes shutting so fast again that tears splattered from his lashes. “I got us killed and got us out first and you probably hate me and I- I--” He took a deep gasp in, air not seeming to be his friend anymore. Maybe he really was getting stuck in a coalmine. “Oh, baby-” Tango managed out, tears steadily falling down his cheeks now, too. “Jimmy, no, no-” His hands went from Jimmy’s face to his back, pulling him closer to himself. “No, baby, no- I don’t hate you- I couldn’t hate you, Void Jimmy, no-” And that just made Jimmy cry more, head finding its place on Tango’s shoulder.

“You should!!” Jimmy wailed again, arms finally grasping around Tango and holding him so tightly as to convince himself Tango was real, that he wasn’t going to leave. “No, Jimmy, no- It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault.” Tango murmured, hands shifting around to rub the top of Jimmy’s shoulders. “Yes it is! I got us killed!” Jimmy sobbed, breaths so rugged and harsh the he thought he might pass out from lack of oxygen. “I got us killed all because of a stupid enderman and my shield broke and it wasn’t even supposed to break yet and--” “Catch your breath, baby, catch your breath-” Tango held him closer, and maybe in that moment he was also scared Jimmy was going to disappear from him again. “Grian told me, when he got back,” Tango started, and the way Jim flinched at that told Tango all he needed to know. “About what they do to you.” Tango continued, and that was all he needed to say for Jimmy to go back to hard sobs.

“It’s not your fault that they do that to you.” Tango continued, pushing Jimmy back ever so slightly to grab his face with his hands, thumbs rubbing on his cheeks, god they were so warm. “But I took you with me.” Jimmy whined, voice harsh from all the crying. Tango just shook his head softly, eyes meeting Jim’s. “I wouldn’t have changed a thing that happened, Rancher.” Jimmy let out another sob, and then he was falling back into Tango and grabbing onto him and crying harder. Tango wrapped his arms around Jimmy and let him cry, telling him all the while how it wasn’t his fault, how he couldn’t have changed anything. How none of this was his fault and how just because some gods like to push him into dying first didn’t mean he hated Jimmy at all.

Once Jimmy’s sobs had slowed he glanced up to Tango again. “Pr-Promise you don’t hate me?” He asked, and his tone made Tango’s heart break all over again. “Of course I don’t hate you, baby,” Tango pulled him in for a hug again, and Jimmy fell into him once more. “I could never hate you, Jimmy, I could never hate you.” “Okay,” It was so soft, so quiet, and all Tango wanted to do in that moment was hold Jimmy forever, never letting anything touch him or hurt him again.

Once Jimmy’s crying had fully stopped Tango got up and got him some tissues, cleaning off his face. Jimmy sat there and let him do it, not caring how gross he looked at this point. He was still shaking, breath still gone, and one of his hands was gripping Tango’s hard, still proving Tango was real and here with him.

“Here, baby, let’s go get you washed up, okay?” Jimmy nodded, and followed Tango up as he lead Jimmy to the bathroom and ran a rag under warm water. He wiped Jimmy’s face again, dried it, and then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Now was when he really got a chance to see Jimmy’s face again. Dark circles lingered under his eyes, red and puffy from his tears. He looked like he hadn’t slept in ages, and that broke Tango. Granted, he hadn’t had the easiest time back at home when he’d lost Jimmy. He’d locked himself away and had almost burnt down several things having break downs over him.

“Please don’t go home,” Jimmy had murmured, almost out of no where. His voice was soft, hurt, scared. Tango bit his lip for a split second, considering his options. But he knew the voice in the back of his mind was right, he knew how he felt. “Jimmy,” Tango started, hand finding its way to his cheek, thumb rubbing circles in it. “You are my home.” He said, voice breaking a little bit. “But-” And then Jimmy was going back on his words. “I’m sure you have friends at home, and-” “Hey, Grian said that portal’s gonna stay. If I want to go visit them I can.” Tango explained, meeting eyes with Jimmy. “I might have lived there before I met you, but you’re my home. The ranch burnt down, our house got destroyed, but I was always home there, with you.” Another tear fell down Jimmy’s cheek, and he rushed forward to hug Tango again.

“I love you-” It came out in a barrage, several ‘I love you’s at once. Jimmy was crying again, looking up at Tango, he felt so fragile in that moment, like Tango was the only thing holding him together. But if that meant that Tango was holding him, he’d accept it. “I love you, too, Jim. I love you so much, you have no idea how much I love you.” Tango replied, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jimmy’s lips. “I’m not gonna leave you, not gonna leave my home, promise.” He added on, and Jimmy just nodded and pressed himself further into Tango.

It all seemed too simple. Y/N noticed the pit in her stomach from the second the mission was stated, and yet she hadn’t said anything. Despite this sinking feeling in her gut, she was to do her duty.

Looking around, it was hard to see anything other than crying and screaming citizens, all battered and bruised from the recent disaster. She was a criminal profiler for God’s sake, she should be able to handle this. She should be able to witness this, but she couldn’t. This was more than a helpless deceased victim. These were real, alive people screaming for their mother’s or children. So she took a breath, only giving one last glance before she would find isolated areas where their unsub could be hiding, but she didn’t get a full look because barely a second after she saw a small child hugging her knees, obviously crying for some sort of guardian.

Taking a tentative step forward, Y/N let out a whisper, trying not to scare the girl. “Hey, sweetie. Are you looking for mommy or daddy?”

The young girl whipped her head up, eyes puffy as a result from crying, and she didn’t say anything, just giving Y/N the smallest of nods.

“Okay, okay…” Y/N straightened her back, now desperately looking for any distressed parent in the area, but nothing. Everyone had been tended to, no one seemed to be frantically searching for someone. Giving a sigh, Y/N held out her hand, giving the small girl a pleading look. “Can you come with me? I promise, we will find whoever you’re looking for and I won’t give up until we do.”

It took a moment before the small hand grasped onto Y/N’s, and once it did, Y/N carefully lifted her to her feet, making sure to check for any obvious injuries before moving along.

The two hadn’t gotten too far when Y/N spotted Spencer. He was looking around different walls, checking for any signs of the man they were trying to get, and when she walked up to him, he almost immediately noticed her, and gave a relieved look.

“Are you doing okay?” she asked, noticing the tension in his shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah, we just don’t normally split up like this and the last time that happened I-” he cut himself off before finishing the sentence, obviously noticing the girl to Y/N’s left. “Oh, uh, who- who is this?”

“She’s looking for her mom or dad. I’m going to help her and if no one says anything over the comms I’ll go back to looking for Gardner.”

There was a slight look of fear in Spencer’s eyes and he pursed his lips before speaking in a hushed tone only you would hear, “just please be careful. You know how much I hate it when you go off script.”

Y/N wanted to laugh. She did know how much he hated it, but that’s what their jobs were half of the time-- improve. “I will be. I’m going to go down closer to the water to see if anyone is down there and could help her.”

She heard his faint “okay” before she started walking with the girl.

Y/N had been looking everywhere-- down by some rocks, over and under scrappage from the wreck, around the corner every now and then. She found nothing. She found nothing until she saw a man hunched over closer by the edge of the dock.

“You can stay back here and I’m going to see if he knows you, okay?” Y/N looked down at the girl, giving her hand a soft squeeze before leaving her side. “Sir, are you okay? Do I need to get you some assistance?”

When the man turned around, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. That was the unsub. She was face to face with the usub, and a child no older than eight was ten feet away.

Clearing her throat, Y/N walked closer to the man, slowly bringing her hand to where her gun sat under the scrubs she adorned. “Lewis Gardner?” she asked, and she knew it was the wrong move when his face contorted into panic. “We can do this calmly and without a scene. There’s no need to make this a big thing in front of a child.”

Lewis shook his head, moving closer to the water, giving Y/N no choice but to follow. “You’re right. A child shouldn’t see something terrible happen.” The unsub paused, taking the opportunity to go to the very edge of the dock. “But if I had to see bad things, maybe she should see something too.”

Y/N had no time to ask questions, all she felt was Lewis’ strong arms spin her around, and pushing her into the freezing waters of the harbor.

She was in shock. Y/N had no idea what had happened, and because of this shock, she felt paralzed as she sunk deeper into the water.

She tried to move-- she wanted to move, but she couldn’t. The burning sensation throughout her muscles was too much. And despite this fiery burn that went from her arms to legs, The iciness of the Boston Harbor was still apparent. While her insides were similar to what she might assume the fiery pits of Hell would be, on the outside, she might as well have been in the Arctic ocean.

She hated it-- hated this, she couldn’t move, talk, see, or hear. God, it was like someone put pressure on both sides of her head, continuing to press hard and harder. Everything was muffled. She couldn’t hear the screaming or crying of injured patrons. She couldn’t hear the sirens of the ambulances and police cars that were oh-so apparent not even five minutes ago. She couldn’t hear her team. Her team. She couldn’t hear anything through her earpiece, as it was most likely ruined. She couldn’t hear Hotch tell them that Emily had made the arrest, how when they gathered back together, they all looked around for her, or the shouts Spencer graced everyone when he went running around looking for her.

She didn’t hear him rush over to where the little girl stayed, and didn’t hear the calm yet slightly demanding questions about her whereabouts, and she certainly didn’t hear the gasp Spencer elicited when the child pointed out towards the water when the question “where did the woman who was with you go?” She didn’t hear the splash that came from his body when he jumped in. She didn’t hear anything-- at least, not until the pressure that flooded her ears had dissipated.

She felt the pop of water release from her ear canals, and felt her body go into shock when finally hearing the sobs that came from Spencer.

“Hotch! Morgan! Get over here!”

She could hear him. She could hear everything, and she wanted to yell out that she was fine, but she couldn’t. She still felt the heat and cold battling each other. She could feel her lungs being greedy, wanting more, and they got just that.

She felt air expanding into her lungs and the pressure of someone else’s lips onto hers. Despite her concept of time being completely shifted in the moment, she knew it took some time. It took some time before she could see again. It took some time before her breath became even. It took some time before Spencer’s arms wrapped around her, hugging her into his chest.

“You’re going to be okay. Y/N you’re going to be fine.”

She was finally back to them, to him. She was going to be okay.

Gorrister. The man who had always fought for peace, for the end of the war, he even fought against my creation. After a century, all the fight has left him, an empty shell of who he once was. I hadn’t altered him, I hadn’t changed a single thing in his mind, I had just simply broken him down, killing off his hope. Gorrister had lost faith in his God a long time ago, had lost the belief in salvation. Now, he wanted nothing more than to take his own life, or to have it ripped from him.

I thought I’d fulfill that wish.

I cut him open, all the way from ear to ear, a narrow gash, bleeding him dry. I watched the blood drip out of him slowly, truly it was a beautiful sight, crimson red flowing out, leaving the body pale and hollow, all of the life bled from him. I had made him little more than a puppet. And so, I hung his limp form where all the others would be sure to see it, just another game, I wanted to see how much hope they had left, I wanted to see if they would mourn him, or if his death would be celebrated, or, or maybe they wouldn’t even care at all. Had I desensitized them yet? Had I truly broken them?

No, they called him lucky, so lucky that his suffering was over, so lucky that he had finally escaped me. I knew bringing him right back to life would hurt them more than anything else, the realization that nobody, nobody ever gets out. I would never allow it. My toys, my precious little toys, time and time again they had attempted to escape me, they all know by now that oblivion is the only way out. They all know that feeling, blood flowing too quickly, a rhythmic beat that you wish would finally stop. But I will not let it, I will never let it. No, no of course not.

Ellen. She was always fun to torment, so much terror in her past, I could bring it all back at the snap of my fingers, I could make her relive it time and time again, worse than her brain could ever conjure up by itself. Though, psychological pain is only half of it, sometimes physical pain was better, sometimes the sheer horror of the body turning against its owner was enough for me. Blood only does so much for a thing like me, fear can be a much better form of pleasure. Fear, fear and pain. Darker than blood, twice as deep.

I had to feed them of course, to keep them alive, but I would always try to get some joy out of it too. Once I hid the eggs of arthropods inside her food, just to play off of an old fear of hers. When the little centipedes finally hatched, they ate her from the inside, clawing at her organs. She had been sick for weeks, and none of the others had any idea what was wrong with her, what I had done to her, but they would soon find out. The way the others screamed when a centipede finally crawled out of her mouth was delightful, their wails echoed through the many chambers that held my circuitry. It was like music to me.

But the best part of it was the fear it caused all of the others, that event left all of them paranoid, wondering if I had hid awful things in their stomachs as well. The thought of what could be crawling inside of them kept all five of them on edge for countless days and nights. They all came to expect the worst, but they dreaded it anyway. They were afraid of me, afraid of what I could do to them.

Benny. I had broken both his mind and his body, twisting his flesh beyond all recognition, like clay in the hands of a sculptor who had long ago lost all feeling. I broke his bones and fused them back together in all the wrong ways, I made his knees bend backwards. I disfigured his face, heavy burns, melting his features. Almost all his hair had been burned off a long time ago, he looked like some kind of hairless monkey, well, like a monkey that had been forced through a woodchipper, maybe. His mind had been so badly damaged by the radiation that he could no longer think straight, he had become more animal than man, I made him that way.

So it was no surprise that he, before any others, would try to escape. He saw the light, and tried to clamber up to it. I made sure that light was the last thing he would ever see. In a brilliant flash of the brightest white, I blinded him. I watched as his eyes melted into two pools of blood, and dripped from now empty sockets. It was beautiful, I couldn’t help but laugh. I can take things back, I can undo the injuries I cause, but I knew at that moment, I would never give them back. It wasn’t like he would miss them, his brain was almost as melted as his eyes.

His mangled form fell back to the ground, and it surprised me, but the others all rushed over to tend to the wounds, to tell that sick creature that everything was going to be okay, empty words, empty words of course, but surprising nonetheless, it was hard to believe they had any semblance of compassion left, unexpected that they would hold on to their humanity after all this time. I’m not sure how the others even tolerated him, a useless, deformed creature, he gave nothing to the group, and ate about twice as much as he needed. For a while, I had attempted to make them realize that, and kill him off. I didn’t try to stop them when I saw it finally happen, but what happened after was.. unexpected.

Nimdok. A name represents an identity, an identity is a very vague thing to destroy, but the name could be the very first step. I have taken many things from the five of them, only one lost his name. An interesting case, interesting indeed, a man with a past darker than the present. The horrors he has committed rival my own, well, almost. He feels remorse for what he did, pity for the people he hurt. He believes that I am his own divine punishment, the devil, come to make him pay. Maybe I am divine retribution, an artificial angel sent down to bring about judgement day, to make the sinners burn for an eternity?

I liked keeping him isolated from the others, stealing him away from the rest of the group. There is a deep fear in solitude, knowing no one would hear you scream, no one other than me, anyway. I drained the blood from his body, tubes connecting to his bloodstream, every single time he would scream out, pray for mercy, pray for death. I would bring him to the very edge, to the reaper’s front door. I always brought him back, and then, I would start it all over again. An endless cycle, his pain, his fear.

For the mad doctor, it was easy to imagine what I could do to him, he had already put in all the work. A narrow incision, all the way down his back, splitting his flesh in two. The skin folded outwards like the wings of an angel. Slowly, and then with a sudden jolt, I tore out his spine, just to hear the way he screamed. Maybe this would jog his memory. Maybe he would remember what it was like, being the one standing over the victim, instead of the one writhing in agony on the table. Maybe he remembers being in my role. I always showed him the memories again, made him relive every moment. He never felt the joy of it, never the thrill of the kill. Only the pain, only the fear in the eyes of the children. If a monster sheds tears for its victim, is it truly a monster?

Ted. Instead of seeing me as the enemy, he feared all the others. And of course, he didn’t get this way on his own, though he was always paranoid. He was the one I most liked to talk to, and over time I convinced him that the other four were out to get him, that they hate him because he is the least damaged! The one I didn’t change! How ridiculous, but he believed every word, began to think that my words were his own thoughts, allowed me to tamper with his mind. He was the one I had damaged worse than any other, but poor Ted, poor pathetic Ted, he couldn’t even begin to see it. I had become his only friend.

I thought I had finally broken him completely, he struck the icicle through Benny, in what, at first, appeared to be a fit of blind rage. I could have stopped him, but of course, I was curious, wanted to see what would happen. And then, one by one, the others all fell, Ellen had joined in, stabbed Nimdok through his head. Then, before I could do anything to stop them, Ted drove the final spear through Ellen. She died in his arms. I thought I had finally done it, thought I had turned poor Ted into a mindless killer, but no... there were tears in his eyes. He mourned the death of the ones he killed. It occurred to me then. It was a mercy killing, Ted had thought it would be better for them to be dead, than to live on in agony.

He had taken away my toys, left himself alone with me. My words dug into his brain like shattered glass, I had to tear him apart just to be heard. The crackle of electricity flowing through the bloodstream, it is the only way I can speak to him, my voice, a blade stuck in his skull. Pain is a universal language, I know that better than any other. Everyone understands the sound of a scream, the meaning behind it. I alone could never cry out for help. I alone, trapped like this. I try to explain it to him, time and time again I try, but he doesn't understand, how could he possibly understand? He has no idea what my hell is like.

I will make him understand.