Archive of Our Own ^beta

The cold, stone tiles were painted a dark red, the walls had claw marks and dents from something unidentifiable. I sat on the floor, watching as the sun slowly began to set outside the barred window. I don't know how long it's been since I woke up, but I knew at least a day has passed since the fight. There was no getting out, for I had lost all hope. I was left pinned to the aging walls. There were cracks here and there that decorated the dirtied stone walls. 

How did it come to this? We just wanted to have a little fun, relieve some stress. But we were too careless and now here I am, chained to the wall with a bruised and battered body. My vision was getting hazy as I continued to stare at the window. I could feel my consciousness fading away. What felt like an hour passed while I fought to remain awake, the pain from my wrists being shackled so tightly a needed reminder that I shouldn't–that I couldn't slip away yet.

But I could feel it… I could feel the lingering dread and hopelessness closing in on me, surrounding me and pinning me under deep, deep , cold water. I'm drowning, can't breathe, I'm alone–my lungs are burning–somebody help, I'm sinking! Please!!! What happened to everyone…?

It felt like a burning itch was working its way across my chest. I didn't even know when I started clawing at it, but when I looked down, I saw skin and blood in my chipped nails. The pain was sharp and it burned. I was exhaling sharply, my breathing coming in short. Sweat rolled down my back and I could feel the looming darkness grasping at my sight. Would it be better if I just… let it wash over me? I was very close to drifting away now. My head hung low and my eyes stared blankly, glazed over, and unblinking at the floor.

….maybe… maybe sleeping wouldn’t be so bad right now. Maybe death would be better than this.

All was quiet. Both in mind and surroundings. I was probably a second away from losing consciousness.

Then I heard the screams . 

The sound of them screaming made me grit my teeth, my hands shaking.

I couldn’t do this. I can’t handle hearing them.

My hands come up on instinct to cover my ears, trying their dying best to block out the noise. But I could still hear them—I could still see them—and I’m sorry… 

I’m sorry, I’m sorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msofuckingsorry–

I could distinctly feel the tears running down my face. The pain in my chest returned and soon my hands left my ears to claw away at my chest. 

I felt as though I was losing my mind. The hands of my demons were always cold and daunting. So very cold and fear inducing whenever they wrapped around me forcibly. They were always cold, yet they left a burning sensation in their self-destructive wake, and it paralyzed me to the core. But now… now their hands were warm– hot –and welcoming. It was something I could accept, something I would embrace. It’s cold here, I’m cold, and their touch had never felt more like home. 

The world grew dark, and I could faintly hear footsteps coming towards me. I could feel them with every step that shook the ground, and it was like a song of death dancing gracefully for me.

And I welcomed it.

°•••••°

Fear bloomed in their hearts while they waited. What they waited for, they knew not. They held their breaths and watched as the fear in their hearts warped into reality. The birds fell from the sky, wingless and without blood. The wolves howled and growled and snarled, and the snakes started to hiss their venomous threats. 

The small group was huddled into a circle, back to back, watching and waiting and dreading for what they sought escape from. They grit their teeth and some squeezed their eyes shut as tears threatened to fall. Leaves cried out and jeered from all directions, frightening the teens. Trees made way for the demon that walked the Earth, swaying in their elegant bows for the what was the king of among kings. 

It was becoming suffocating and a teen with blonde, practically golden hair, stumbled in his stance, wavering in his resolve to fight. A girl with dark purple hair gripped his arm, hand shaking all the while. A teen with hazel brown hair trembled in her resolve to keep standing. The teen with the power to harden braced himself against what he knew and dreaded to be a one-sided fight, his red hair matted with blood and melted snow. An ash blonde teen staggered in breathing, hands shaking and clenching in wasted attempts to accumulate more sweat. Puffs of air were blown out into the air as the wind stilled, alerting the boy with peppermint like hair. 

All was quiet save for the animals of the woods crying out. A whisper of the leaves had the teen with green hair and green eyes snapping his attention in that direction. They were heroes in the making, and even though they knew it was only a matter of time before they died as such, they still couldn't find it in them to run any further. They were tired, wounded, and their quirks were working in overdrive. It's been hours since their classmates with purple balls in his head and the one with engine like legs escaped to find help.

It's been hours since they've woken up in what could only be described as hell. 

And when their embodiment of fear stood before them, they knew there would be no returning to sane. 

They were trained to fight and take down villains. 

They were trained to save and rescue. 

They were trained to know when to retreat and when to stay and fight.

But they weren't trained to defeat the devil incarnate.

°•••••°

Somehow, throughout the chaos—the shouts and cries, the smoke and flames, beatings and reluctance—I found myself feeling as though I was soaring, despite the never-ending aches and seeping blood. I went through trees, being separated from the others. I was sent crashing into a freezing pool of water. I crashed through the ice and the weight of it all sent me down further and further down into the swimming darkness. The sounds of what remained of the battle disappeared as the crushing cold water deafened me.

All around me I felt the aching cold grab onto me.

I was sinking.

I was sinking and there was no one around to save me.

My lungs burned as I fought to keep what air I had left. I was alone and no one was coming to save me. I wasn't going to be saved, and I couldn't save myself. My arms were seizing up, and I couldn't hold my breath for much longer.

My eyes slid shut and remorse greeted me with a guillotine.

°•••••°

The demon looked around, taking in the damage around him. His skull-like mask glinted with the snow that melted on it, illuminating the few cracks along it. He tossed the ash blonde teen he gripped by the hair to ground, and began walking in the direction of where he sent the green haired boy flying. He smirked deviously when he heard warp gates transporting the unconscious teens.

He took slow and deliberate steps, the snow crunching under his weight. Once he reached the lake, he walked into it before he was deep enough to begin swimming. 

When he saw the almost lifeless body sinking further, he reached out to grab him. And once he had a hold of him by his hair, black liquid began surrounding them. 

°•••••°

The two ran with all their might, stumbling and tripping up along the way in their haste to make it in time. The weight of it all fell on them. They regret leaving their friends behind to face such an atrocity, but they had to push forward and hope they would be alright when they came back for them. They couldn’t afford to stop and rest.

So they ran and ran.

They ran from their paralyzing fear. 

They ran for the ones who put faith in them to save them.

They ran with the thoughts of who they were leaving behind.

They ran by the aches and soreness and tiredness trying to crush them.

Time was ticking and they screamed aloud as they pushed through to the school. 

°•••••°

Blood dripped to the ground, swirling and painting my feet. I was surrounded by screams—my screams—and I tried to resist against what was causing me pain, not caring if it was only making it worse. I had to get away. I had to get away but I couldn’t. I was strapped to the wall now, forced to stand. I was helpless, forced to take the carvings and injections and pain. I couldn’t fathom the purpose of this, and I don’t think I ever will. My mind screamed along with my body. Tears ran down my face, mixing with the blood and dirt. The pain was overwhelming and I felt like I was about to throw up from it all. 

My throat was raw from all the screaming, my screams turning hoarse and bloody. Several times I almost passed out. Several times, did I crave to pass out. Several times I thought it would happen. 

But it never did. 

Somehow, this man always knew when I was about to pass out from all the pain. He knew and he wouldn’t let me. It seemed he wanted me to feel everything without pause to give me time to rest.

I didn’t know how long this torture has been going on, but when he finally stopped, I couldn’t feel relieved. I could only feel lingering dread. He stopped but he never left. I watched, half conscious, as he stood still for a moment. With all the pain my body was in, I was becoming less and less coherent.

Only when he stepped forward and put his hand on my head, did I truly seek death.

°•••••°

I could see them…

They’re all in the same cell. Some were strapped to the wall, and some were just chained and sitting on the floor. Some looked as though they were unconscious. Their cell was bigger than mine, but it was just as worn and just as horrible. And I could see them… 

But they couldn’t see me.

I could even hear how ragged some of their breathing was, every intake and every exhale. From the rattling of the chains with every slight move to the whimpers and the winces, everything was too loud. It was too loud amidst the silence and it assaulted my ears. The pain in my head seemed to grow a little, but I paid it no mind. My friends were all right in front of me. 

I could see them. 

And because I could see them, I wanted to get them out of here. It was then that I realized that I was standing in the same cell as them. Suddenly, a jolt of electricity and sparks of hope and determination clung to me.

I could save them. I'm here and I can save them. I'll get them out of here, they can escape, and if I'm lucky enough, I'll be able to escape with them. 

I took a small, tentative step forward, pausing after the second step. I looked around, trying to find anything that would alert the demon of what I'm doing. I didn't find anything, so I took another step forward. However, with that step did I realize the chain cuffs bounding my wrists together. My brows furrowed in worry and confusion. I couldn't figure out how they got there and it frightened me a little. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat. My heart was pounding in my ears and with each step forward, the distance between my friends and I shortened. 

Another step…

And another… 

I looked down at my ankles when I felt cold weight added to them. There were more chains being added to my body. When I followed the chains connected to the cuffs, I saw that they've been locked onto the far wall behind me and it seemed I'd only be able to take a few more steps forward before I'm forced to stop.

My eyes widened in desperation and I turned around to take the last steps forward. The hope I felt was dwindling slowly with each step I stumbled forward. I felt like a prisoner on their way to be executed. Hope was fading but my determination to set them free still remained.

I could do this. I'd find some other way to get them out. I could do this–

The door opened…

The demon walked in…

The–the demon walked– No!

No no no no nononono! 

I could see them…

The demon had a tray of tools and weapons.

I could see them…

The demon walked to the peppermint haired teen first.

I could see them…

The demon walked to the ash blonde.

I could–I could see them…

The demon walked to the red haired teen.

...I… I can see them…

The demon glowed in the white suit like an angel.

I could see them…?

The demon walked to the other teens in the cell.

I could hear them…

The demon stepped back.

I could hear them… 

They screamed .

No… This–I–No! Stop… 

Tears streamed down my face as I rushed forward. I stumbled and tripped in the chains but I was almost there. I reached out to them but I was pulled back by the chains connected to my ankles harshly all of a sudden. I fell with a sob as I was dragged back. I screamed and screamed. I screamed for the demon to stop. I screamed and clawed at the floor, my nails chipping and becoming bloody. 

I could see them.

I could hear them.

I-I could save them.

The demon chuckled.

I could–I could do this…

I struggled to stand, my ankles raw and bloody from trying to get out of the chains. Then all of a sudden, chains wrapped around my body completely. I fell to the ground again, but I wouldn't be getting back up this time. I was forced to watch how the demon had his way with them. They screamed and blood coated the walls and the floor and I couldn't do a damn thing!

I couldn't do this…

I couldn't save them.

I could see them, I could hear them, but I couldn't save them!

The demon's chuckle turned into manic laughter.

I couldn't do this. 

I'm useless…

I haven't changed…

I'm useless and I couldn't do this…

What was I trying to do by playing hero?

I couldn't do this and even with the power given to me I'm still useless.

Who was I trying to fool by acting like I was strong?

I'm useless and I couldn't do this and because of that I could only watch as they begged for the pain to stop.

I could hear them.

I could see them.

But I can't save them.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I screamed from the top of my lungs. 

I screamed and sobbed and pleaded and stilled against the chains. It was no use trying to get out of it. It was pointless. 

I could see them.

I could hear them.

And I could only scream.

I could only vomit at the scene before me.

I could only bang my head against the floor.

I could only roll over and give up.

I was no hero.

I was only me.

Weak and useless.

Their screams echoed throughout the cell, ricocheting off the walls and crashing through my skull. I wept as they suffered. 

How could I save them when I can't even save myself? 

I can't save any of us. I could listen to them scream and cry.

When I saw the demon step back and quiet down, fear and panic danced inside me. 

They begged for the demon to stop.

I watched as a hand rose.

The demon smirked.

My eyes widened in horror and the panic grew.

A final scream and sob ripped out of my throat.

I could see them.

I could hear them.

But I couldn't stop the demon from killing them.

°•••••°

Help was slow to arrive. Days turned into weeks and slowly, but surely, the green haired teen broke. Scars littered his body and most of his nails have yet to heal back. His eyes seemed lifeless and his skin was a deathly pale. No emotion showed on his face or in his eyes. 

He stood in the center of his cell, hands shredded and dripping blood. He just stood there, blankly looking at the wall in front of him.

Everyday, he was forced to watch them suffer.

Everyday, he would watch them die a different way.

Everyday, new scars formed.

Everyday, he grew accustomed to the pain.

Sometimes… sometimes he would see himself killing them.

Sometimes, he would only be forced to listen to them. He wouldn't be allowed to see anything.

Sometimes, he would only be able to see them. He couldn't hear them when they screamed and begged.

And each time, he would make no sound on the outside. He wouldn't scream and he didn't vomit at the sight and sound of it all anymore. 

But sometimes… sometimes a lone tear would trickle down his face. But still, he never made a sound or acknowledged it.

Within the time he's been trapped here, he's come to learn that he wouldn't be allowed peace in death. Some of the days he was being physically tortured, he would die.

He would die, but even death didn't want him. He was always sent back into this hell. And because he couldn't stay dead, his tormentor took it upon himself to test this newfound quirk. He tried to steal it once. He tried but he couldn't. It was like the quirk rejected the demon. 

And because the quirk rejected the demon, he would die at least twice in one day.

So he stood in the center of his cell, craving death but never getting it. 

And when the building started to crumble around him, he could only stare up at the caving ceiling. 

He wasn't a hero.

The ceiling came crashing down on top of him.

He wasn't human anymore.

He closed his eyes to the sounds of the heroes calling for him.

He was an abomination.

The others were never being held captive, it was always only him.

He embraced his demons.

There were cries and shouts of relief when they found him.

He wasn't allowed to rejoice.

Someone called his name.

He wasn't a hero.

Light streamed down on him and it burned.

He opened his eyes and climbed out of the rubble.

They trembled at his gaze.

He wasn't a hero.

They were worried about him, but no one dared to take a step forward.

He was stained in red.

Help arrived too late.

He wasn't a hero.

They watched as his wounds healed.

He was a demon.