#black flag

(He longs to see you ruined, beneath him. To beg for him; to need him for something beyond the extent of his knightly duties.)

This burgeoning, incessant loyalty — it is dizzying, decaying, and dangerous. It has stopped him from thinking clearly; it has inhibited his noble heart, that had once been filled with the virtues and values that were instilled in him since young. Seren wishes to ruin you; in any way — for you have ruined him.

And now Seren stands before a multitude of crushed, broken bodies, as you stare at him in horror.

Ah, it seems that you have finally caught him.

“Your Highness,” Seren worships you; like you are a divine being, “I killed them for you.”

Seren doesn’t call it murder. This act of punishing the men who desecrate you — it is not gratuitous, it is deserved. He is slow and brutal; lamb to the slaughter; drawn out — he carves holes in their bodies and watches as the red pours out, painting the floor in a rich crimson. And Seren smiles, then, thinking that he has avenged you, thinking that you would be so thankful to know of how devoted he is to you, as your devout knight; as the man you have on a leash.

Seren doesn’t get why you seem so horrified.

“No,” you choke out, “you murdered them.”

“They spoke badly of you, Your Highness,” Seren tells you, shaking his head wildly: and this movement engenders a bright fear in you — “I made sure to have their tongues cut, before they died.”

Seren walks towards you. He strides, stalks. And you step back, your heart hammering against your chest so loud and so painfully hard that you swallow.

Has he killed all these men?

Seren — how? Why? What —?

Seren is not like this. Seren is not meant to be like this. Seren — he is sweet, kind, soft. He is the Knight that knows you the best in the world; the one that would never hesitate to do anything for you. He is your childhood friend — your best friend — your favorite person in the whole world.

“I won’t hurt you,” he coos, looking disappointed, “why do you fear me so?”

“You —”

“Did you really not foresee this, Your Highness?” Seren tilts his head, “that I would do this for you? You are usually so astute, my darling master, and so I simply cannot understand why you seem so shocked.”

Because the Seren you know is the kind to gently reassure you. Seren is the kind of person that the old ladies love for he is so gentle; Seren is the kind of person children run after calling him big brother and he is the one who is the most loyal to you.

And it appears to you now, obvious and stark, that his loyalty has spiraled into madness. That perhaps you had been selectively blind the whole time, and that the loyalty had turned into obsession, into possession; into a need to covet. Perhaps the constant smouldering flash in his eyes should have warned you of this moment. Perhaps —

There are so many things, you cannot help but think, that should’ve told me of this moment. But I ignored all the signs; all the red flags. I am the foolish one here.

“I love you,” Seren says feverishly, “I love you so much, I don’t know what to do. Oh, Your Highness...do you mean to say that you don’t know of my feelings towards you?”

“You are mad,” you breathe out, “mad.”

“I am madly in love with you,” Seren says, “Your Highness.”

He is a hair’s breadth away from you now. His breaths mingle with yours, his grip is on your shoulders and you can feel, firsthand, his arousal against you. And now his fingers are tipping your chin up, you’re squirming and groaning and breathing hard — yet Seren will not release his tight hold on you.

“I have yearned,” Seren says, “for days; months; years! I have been patient, have I not? Have I not been your hand and mouth, your dog, have I not been at your beck and call? Have I not been your most devoted follower and knight? Tell me, Your Highness, do I not deserve your love?”

“Mad,” you cannot help but repeat, “you’re mad….”

“I could kill your parents,” Seren says, “I could kill them; take the throne for myself and become Emperor. And I would go from your Knight to your Emperor, Your Highness; I could dethrone you. I could make you mine.”

“And you don’t,” you tremble, “you won’t. You won’t dare.”

“My patience runs thin,” Seren’s lips hover over your skin now, and you shiver — “my patience runs very thin.”

And now his lips are on your skin, grazing it. And then it turns to teeth: you hiss in pain as Seren leaves steady, blaring marks on your skin; innocuous blotches of red that glare at you.

“You were my dearest friend,” a startled sob escapes you, and words cannot describe this betrayal you feel — your Knight has shown his true colours to you; “you are my Knight.”

“You made me like this,” Seren says softly, “take responsibility, Your Highness.”

He says the last two words like he’s taunting you. Like he’s making a mockery out of you. And it is true, that those words sting: it is funny that you are meant to have more power than him, but now Seren has you at his mercy.

“Don’t be scared,” Seren smiles, and his smile is so terrifying that you flinch, “there is one way to satiate my endless hunger, and to whet my appetite."

You despair, and helplessly fall prey into his words.

**

Your body is not yours anymore.

You cannot call it yours.

Seren has wrecked it; marked it, made it his. Seren has debauched you with salacious intent, and with wanton desire — he had stirred, within you, an ignominious desire that you now long to purge.

Seren has corrupted you.

Ever since that day; ever since that day in which you had been foolish enough to witness the sight of Seren’s murders — things had never been the same. You two will never go back to those days before — Seren would never revert back to the innocent, cheerful person he had been before the obsession.

Seren will never be your Knight again. He will sweep your title away from you — stage a coup, a rebellion — and then he will become someone above you.

You wallow every day. You blame yourself. You think to yourself that if not for you, he wouldn’t have been like this. Perhaps Seren’s words had been right: you have made him like this, you have to take responsibility. You have destroyed him. You have —

I have taken away the person he was, you think in broken syllables — your mind feels so broken — I have rendered him like this. It is only right for him to treat me so. It is only right…

“Ah, Your Highness,” Seren says sweetly, tipping your head up, “you seem to be more coherent today.”

(You are a doll, now, fitted to his liking. He has made you his puppet. He has killed everything that you have loved. Seren has become a monster; and you are responsible for it. You have robbed all the people that loved him; of him. You have created this version of him, and now you can only mourn the past and atone for your sins.)

“I’m sorry,” you tell him quietly, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry — for making you like this.”

Seren delights in this. He is pleased.

“How sweet,” he whispers, “how sweet you are, Your Highness. Fret not. I forgive you. After all, you are already so obedient to me, aren’t you? It took you this long to be self-aware.”

“I have nothing else,” you shake, “you are the only person I have. You are the only one I can talk to, now. Everyone else is gone. Everyone else is gone because of me; because of how incorrigible and incompetent I am. I shouldn’t even be the prince. I shouldn’t….what have I done, Seren? You would’ve been normal if not for me. You should have never been my Knight. You —”

“Shh,” Seren tells you, “what’s done is done. There’s nothing that can be changed, Your Highness. There simply isn’t. Accept this, Your Highness. Accept me.”

This must be love, you think, this must be madness. Love must be madness.

Seren kisses you; you feel him smile against your lips.

“Accept that you are mine — that you always have been.”