#ill!reader

The ability to breathe through your nose seemed like a distant memory. A particularly hurtful cough forced itself out of your throat and you didn't even have the strength to fight it anymore, wheezing like a wounded animal.

You didn't even question when voices from TV melted into static.

What was noticeable though, was the room feeling significantly colder, to the point you had to pull up your blanket. You tried tugging on it, but it was like some weight was preventing you from doing so.

Turning to see what caused this obstruction, your eyes went wide as you realized you weren't alone anymore. You felt the yelp forming in your throat, but it was too exhausting to actually let it out.

The red in his hollow eyes bore right into your soul, illuminating a confused scowl.

The demonic hedgehog was right next to your face, and you only took notice when you actually looked his way. Guess one of the positives of having a stuffed nose was not having to tolerate the reek of death that always came whenever he appeared.

"What's this supposed to mean?" His glitchy voice rumbled throughout the room with a note of accusation, "not even a bit of a scream?"

"I don't have the strength to deal with you right now," you mumbled, your back falling onto the mattress once more.

The hedgehog looked offended by your audacity.

"How come you're so extra pathetic today?" He asked, more so to himself. His annoyance was palpable, but you couldn't care less.

"None of ya business."

Your halfassed answer was met with a growl, and his nasty face came rapidly towards yours. "I need to know if you're dying. I'm not done playing with you yet."

"I'm not dying yet, but I sure feel like it." Your response was very flat. "So if you're here to make me feel worse, you're too late."

The tilt of his head was almost amusing, if only you weren't in a haze of pain.

"That's no fun." He furrowed his brow in disappointment. "How am I supposed to play with you when you've already lost? And not even by me!"

You made it clear you weren't interested in his monologue and tugged at the blanket, still under his gloved hand. Taken aback by your guts, he lifted it up, watching as you rolled over on your side.

Occupied by trying to find a cool spot on your pillow, you didn't register when X wordlessly crawled right next to you. Your body jerked at the sudden stab, sharp quills stained with old blood poking your back until he found a comfortable place to lay. The other assaulting thing was the cold. It's as if you were being blanketed by a corpse, which in all fairness was probably the case. The hedgehog didn't seem to be bothered by your disapproving grunt, his muzzle resting on top of your shoulder.

"What the hell?" You spoke while trying to escape his grip, but eventually concluded you were too weak to fight his strong grip.

"Quiet." He growled, but it wasn't as menacing. His hand moved purposefully towards your neck, stopping only to grab it and part of your jaw. At this point, you didn't expect to wake up tomorrow.

To your surprise, the tightened grip never came. Instead, his claws hooked into your skin without breaking it, and you felt a cold shiver all over your body. It all happened in a split second, but it felt as if he was killing something inside you, which was a horrifying thought.

Feeling a hint of weakened strength, you shifted to face him with a frown. "What did you do?"

"Killed whatever was killing you from the inside." He rumbled with simple cadence. "I hate waiting. I'm the only one who's allowed to torment you."

You couldn't help but furrow your brows at the realization of feeling a bit lighter than before. You were still full of mucus and sweat, but your temperature didn't make you wanna jump off a roof.

In that moment of silence, forced into near proximity of his chest, you were now able to hear… Nothing. You halfly expected some kind of a heartbeat, but all that you've heard was a very subtle static, almost like an old PC.

And then, a sniff.

His cold, dry nose almost brushed against your skin before it scrunched up. "There's still this annoying smell on you."

"You're the one who smells like death all the time, aren't you used to it?" You lifted your brow.

"You don't smell like death." He snorted dismissively. "You smell pathetic."

Suddenly your cheek was met with a cold, leathery and meat-like texture. There was no trace of saliva, almost like when you wake up after sleeping with your mouth open, and a painful lick like that of a cat's tongue.

Your body jerked with cringe. "Ew, don't lick me!"

Your protest was met with a firm grip of his hand on your wrist. "Don't disturb my work. I can't stand this stench of a sick animal. It's irritating."

His rough tongue continued to gather the salt off your jaw and neck, holding you in place like a dominant feline. Whenever you tried to move, his sharp teeth would serve as a reminder to stay still. You couldn't picture the expression on your face, but it surely wasn't that of a happy camper. Thankfully, he didn't insist on cleansing all your spots, stopping right by the collar of your shirt.

It's as if he was absorbing your sickness, or doing a skincare routine in a very disturbing way. Although it wasn't a pleasant experience, your face felt much better without the layer of sweat and excess heat.

Absolutely done with this experience, you swiped your hands across your face, trying to get rid of the feeling.

And then the room went dark, except for the glowing irises of the demon in your bed.

"Sleep now. Regain your strength." The deep voice near your ear almost made you flinch. "I'll be there when you wake up. Then we can play a proper game."

The woman came up to you and placed her hand up to silence you.

“You’re obviously losing your voice, don’t speak unless you really must.” She said matter of factly.

You smiled and nodded in understanding.

Thank you.

“You weren’t in my class and I heard that you were absent from your other classes as well…” Professor Lesso explained, “I assumed something was the matter, so I wanted to come check on you.”

You blushed lightly at her concern. You nodded in recognition of her words.

Thank you

“Well, You’re obviously sick…” She sighed, “When did this start?”

“Weekend…” you whispered in your hoarse tone, wincing lightly as your sickly pain.

Lesso nodded in understanding. Her eyes softened at your wince.

“May I sit?”

You nodded. The dean then sat at the edge of the bed.

“I can go to the pharmacy and get you some medicine…” she offered gently.

You nodded once more.

Thank you…

The woman then delicately cleared your stray hairs from your face and tucked them behind your ear.

“It looks painful…” she mused aloud.

“It is…” you whispered, a tear rolling down your face.

Professor Lesso wiped the tear away and nodded slowly.

“I’ll make sure to inform the staff that you’ll be out for a little bit.” She hummed softly.

You nodded again.

Thank you

“I’ll go to the pharmacy, then I’ll come back and check on you.”

“T-hanks…” you panted.

Lesso smiled lightly.

“Of course.” She reassured you.

~~~

At the crossroad, you coverup the box with the ingredients and wait. You’re getting sicker by the day. You know it, you can feel it. You’ve gotten so weak you can’t work anymore and the money is running out to pay for your family’s medications. You would take out another mortgage but you’re already in so much debt there’s no way the bank would approve it. You’ve become truly desperate--not for yourself, your family. Their futures. You’d do anything to save them. So, you wait.

You’re about to give up and turn back to your car when you suddenly feel a chill  behind you. Turning around, braced for anything, you stop short when you see a man (in a suit? on a dirt road? you have no idea why but it’s better than what you thought would come and greet you) holding your box.

“Well...isn’t this a surprise.” 

“Uh…--” before you can even actually form a real word your voice is stolen from you.

“That’s okay, kitten, it’s better if I talk and you listen.” You nod slowly, now scared out of your mind and you start thinking the voice stealing trick wasn’t necessary. “Good. Now, you’re looking for a deal, yes?” You nod. “You’re ill, and desperate.” Another nod. “And now you want to sell your soul to be cured.” You shake your head this time.

This makes him walk closer and put you under his scrutinizing gaze. His eyes on you makes your skin crawl but you need this to go well so you let him and merely avert your own gaze to the dirt under your feet.

“You don’t want to be cured.” You shrug in response. It’s not that you don’t want to, you do, but that’s not why you’re here--you’re thinking more long term. “Speak then. What do you want?”

A cough comes out first as your voice is given back to you. “M-my family. I want them taken care of when I’m gone.”

“So you’re dying, and you’re willing to sell your soul in order for them to be happy?”

“Well...not just happy. I, uh, have a list.”

He chuckles and it sounds rough, like sandpaper, “You have a list...I’ll admit it takes some balls to bring a list of commands when you’re the one in need.”

“It’s my soul...and I think what I’m asking for is rather modest for what I’m offering.”

“And what…” he steps closer, now right in your space, you can smell what can only be described as fire and brimstone. “Is that?”

You swallow thickly and try hard to let yourself look or act as intimidated as you feel. “...I’m a virgin.” His whole face changes and you feel a tiny bit more confident than you did thirty seconds ago. “Yeah...that’s what I thought. No sex, no one else’s touch...barely any time or energy for my own fingers...so, yeah.”

“I see...well aren’t you more than the sum of your parts.” You flush at his words and try looking away again but this time he catches you by the jaw and makes you look at him. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you. Don’t bother answering, I can already smell the pureness of you. Interesting...so this family of yours?”

“My family--the people I love and who love me. Is that not enough to call them family?”

“I suppose, for some people.”

“I want them taken care of and I have a list for how that would best happen for them. In return you get my soul. My virgin soul...I don’t know a lot about a lot but I’ve been told that’s a big deal in your...department.”

“Yes…” he lets go of your jaw and you have to pop it to ease the tense. “It is.” He circles around you, inspecting you.

“So...does this mean we have a deal?”

“We could...or you could sweeten it.”

“W-what? Look I don’t have anything else I--”

“Oh hush up I’m not asking for much. It’s true, getting a virgin to sell their soul is pretty hard in this day and age. You’re all hedonists.” You roll your eyes but let him keep speaking. “And your soul would be quite the commodity down under. There is one thing that would make it absolutely perfect…” Now he’s behind you, pressed against your back. You can feel the heat of Hell coming from him, his breath hot against your nape.

“...what?”

“You let me take it.”

“T-take it?”

“Oh yes...your virginity. Let me take it. I can think of about fifty uses for it off the top of my head. Ten years is a long time, you may not be a sweet little virgin by the time we come to collect and then we’re both fucked. So we may as well, well, fuck.”

“...what do I get in return?”

“Besides instant gratification?” It’s like he feels the sarcasm about to roll off your tongue because he quickly says, “I’ll cure you too.”

“...you will?”

“Of course. I don’t care what you do with your body once I’ve got what I want. You may as well have a nice life before you’re tortured for all of eternity.”

You know he’s not wrong, and you wonder to yourself if he knows he’s actually giving you more time than you naturally have left to live. At this point though, you don’t care. You’ve come this far. May as well go the distance.”

“Okay.” He smirks and offers his hand. “Before I do...do I at least get a name?”