#synthocs

He expected Lucas to die that night, just like his past dalliances. Blissed out from his orgasm, eyes rolled back in his head, distracted enough he didn't care for the bruises, and just vulnerable enough that he didn't fight against the knife Krueger pulled while still halfway inside him. The cut had been done a thousand times, killed hundreds of people. But, for some reason, Lucas just didn't die. Despite the bloody sheets and the slash in his throat that should have a death sentence, he had survived. Krueger hadn't even noticed, content to smoke next to his corpse, until he woke up in the middle of the night to find Lucas attempting to sneak off after playing dead. Like a roach, skuttling off after refusing to die.

The survival alone captured the psycho's attention. But attention was never a good thing when it came to him. Unlike Nikto, Krueger didn't have those same moments of softness, the strange devotion that came with obsession. Instead, he made Lucas's life a living hell, breaking him down to nothing in a matter of days. Begging him to fight, just so he could get off on the struggle. It's impossible to blame Lucas for crumbling so quickly, it's hard not to break when it comes to a cruelty so barbaric and constant that surviving itself is a punishment. The scars on Lucas's wrists had been covered by the ones Krueger had caused. Lucas wasn't a fighter, he never had been, so he didn't seem like the type Krueger would keep around, especially since he turned into a lifeless husk. But regardless, he was allowed to stay. Decorating Krueger's home no different than a doll in the corner of a child's room, forgotten and forced to observe, having not an ounce of control over his own life and no will to change that.

During where we are in the pet storyline now, Lucas had been completely brainwashed. He's not fighting back, physically or mentally. He's simply lifeless. He's not even a pet like our dear reader, just a doll for Krueger to play with and break over and over again. Krueger had realized that Lucas was no more fun, not responding to much of anything anymore, but he can't just dispose of him. Instead, he dragged him along everywhere like a rag doll, a pretty thing that is all his to hurt. And Lucas can't snap out of it. As infuriating as it is, he just can't wake up.

He is forced to watch Krueger with glass eyes, tend to him with porcelain hands. He makes dinner, cleans the house, takes out the corpses of Krueger's new lovers without complaint (he can't really blame him for cheating, after all he had gotten so boring). After a long day, freshly bruised as the cycle of abuse continued, Lucas found the feeling of his bread knife against flesh calming. Sawing away at bone, cleaning the blood off the rug he had ordered to tie the whole living area together, neatly packing the dismembered body parts into a trash bag to take outside, it was a reprieve. The cold night air welcomed him like the death he should have had. Yet the lights that had once offered hope, whispering for him to follow, to leave this cursed place behind, had long since gone out.

The exit is right there, but he can't take it. Not because he feels anything for Krueger, not because he's scared, but because Lucas isn't even a person anymore. He's been told those words so much he now believes them. At this point, Krueger just keeps him around because his devotion is useful. Which Lucas is very aware of.

As terrible as Reader's situation is, Lucas's is that multiplied tenfold. An inescapable tragedy that he can't avoid. And that's what I find so fascinating about this dynamic, because as much as the Reader wants Lucas to fight back, as much as they pull out their hair, screaming for him to escape, he just... can't. Of course, I considered making him a badass, but after being in this situation and undergoing this much abuse, he's incapable of doing that