gilgamesh plucking you, the first somewhat attractive person he can find wandering the streets at night, and taking you to the church’s basement. he hits you over the head hard enough to make you pass out instantly, and you most definitely have a concussion, but he really doesn’t care. where you’re going, you won’t have much use for your brains, after all. (what little capacity of though they might have had would likely not have been much use, regardless. to walk around, all alone, during a chain of disappearances and killing is plain stupid.)

you later wake up in a dark, cold, and dusty room with a splitting headache and blurry vision. your ears are ringing. though your brain is still struggling to catch up with the situation, you instinctively know that something is very, very wrong. you’re sprawled out on the floor in front of a man in dark clothes, with a golden cross dangling from his neck. as soon as you look up into his eyes, however, you know that this man of god cannot be your saviour. 

there is nothing that feels for you in them. he looks at your crumpled, shaking form like you are merely a stranger passing him on the street, forgotten within a glance. there is no concern, or pity, or even disgust- there is nothing. 

king of heroes, the general populace is not supposed to be involved in the war. the man in front of you says. 

this has nothing to do with the holy grail, a voice comes from behind you. but if you never want them to speak of this again, you simply have to kill them. 

his eyes lower to look upon you. ...moreover, as a man of god, i cannot kill someone who pleads for their life.

your heart skips a beat. you open your mouth, and p- something hard and heavy and distinctly metal hits the back of your head, and then rests on your back. the world is spinning, and you’re desperately heaving in breaths, but unable to breathe. 

well? you didn’t hear them beg, did you? 

the headache throbbing through your skull, and when you regain your consciousness, something is lodged firmly down your throat. no matter how much you gag and how much your throat spasms, it only leaves temporarily to be thrust back inside as far as his cock can go. 

you scratch and claw at the nearest body part you can reach, but this only makes him groan. the stranger’s own hands wrap around your throat while he’s still fucking you, squeezing it shut as if to make your insides even tighter. your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of your skull, and foam forms at the corners of your mouth.