Archive of Our Own ^beta

Rodya no longer bet more than she was willing to lose, but she was an exception. People didn’t shy away from putting it all on the line, especially not in the City, where many lived by desperation.

It would be nice to be a gambler, though. Then Faust would know if she'd risked too much. Perhaps this was always an unwinnable game.

But she couldn't take anything back.

Cassetti waited for them to enter the bus where he'd lain his trap. Faust was only a second too late to shield Dante. The two were ensnared by his crystals, with their limbs pinned to the wall.

<Faust…! Are you okay?> Dante asked.

“I am unharmed, Dante. However, our predicament has significantly worsened.”

Cassetti drew closer with a grin. He grabbed Dante’s clock-face and chuckled.

“Thine subjects have pained me so! Oh, how It hurts… You must repent!” He said.

Dante’s ticking rose in pitch. With a wave of Cassetti’s hand, a crystal pierced their neck.

“If thou is to rewind thine clock, thine life shall end. Shall it end in spectacle or tragedy?”

Faust took a breath. “...Dante, you must prioritize your life. If you believe you shall perish, recall the instructions I conveyed in the altercation at the Great Lakes.”

<Wait, you want me to self-destruct?>

She didn't answer, but it felt like acknowledgement.

<....Okay. I trust you, Faust. So… I don't believe it will kill me.>

Cassetti clutched at his head. “Silence, you fiends! Pay attention to me…pay attention to me…”

He stumbled toward Faust. His eyes were frenzied.

“Do you intend to bargain?” Faust asked.

“This kingdom…Mine own kingdom…It must survive! Through blood or other means, I shall produce a heir.”

He stroked the fabric of her collar between his fingers.

“This is insufficient information,” Faust said.

“Silence! Thou know naught of how I have suffered!”

The sharp end of his cane dug into her uniform.

<H-hey, wait, don’t hurt her-> Right, they could only speak to the sinners. They forgot that sometimes.

He sliced the cloth. Blood gathered at the tip- he had nicked her on purpose.

Dante gasped when he slipped off her clothes.

<N-no…>

Faust took a deep breath. She was naked but she didn’t look afraid.

“Dante, I need you to avert your eyes. I believe the following…circumstances… will be psychologically harmful for you to witness.”

<W…Wait…> Their mind hadn’t caught up yet.

Cassetti groped her. His fingers bruised her ribs, yet her face stayed expressionless.

It was gut-wrenching. One of their sinners violated in front of them, and they were useless-

<”H-how do I stop him?”>

”Faust is-” She paused. “I am resilient to psychological trauma.”

<What are you saying? He’s going to-> They swallowed. <I can’t let this happen...!>

Faust shook her head.

<It’s my responsibility to protect you!>

Cassetti snarled. “Tell thine clock if they are to recover you even once, I shall sodomize it too, then one by one shall I tear its organs out and take your body over its corpse.”

Dante gagged. They couldn’t have imagined such depravity. They’d lead the sinners here knowing nothing.

“...They…comprehend your warning.” Faust said.

The torment started.

Cassetti’s hands bruised her waist. Fingernails left crescent marks on her skin. He pinched the sensitive area between her thighs. Then he grabbed her breasts- gently at first, then violently. He dug his fingernails into her nipples. Faust said nothing, but from the shift of her eyebrows, Dante knew she was in pain.

It took a moment for them to gain the coherency to speak. <Faust, please! Tell him that I know something...That I'm provoking him...Let me distract him until we figure out a way.>

“...An… assault… of this nature is psychologically damaging. Your stability must be ensured… ”

<Y-you don’t know if he would do that to me.>

“...Faust ascertains you are not this naive."

That felt like a punch.

<I….> Why was Faust so resigned? They’d gotten through everything leading up to this. They had to be able to protect her.

Cassetti interrupted. “Thou mustn’t talk to thine clock anymore! Talk to me...Please…Don’t abandon me here…Please…”

He undressed himself frantically, like something was going to kill him. Dante wished they could vomit when they saw the size of his cock. No way would that fit. It would kill them to see her violated by that. Maybe it would kill her, too.

Cassetti grinned. “Thou shan’t ever ignore me again…I shall make certain of this…”

With her legs unbound, he lifted her waist.

<No…> Dante felt like they were being strangled.

He pressed against her.

“...Don’t look, Dante-”

Faust’s muscles strained from the intrusion. She bit her tongue to suppress her cries while she was violently spread open.

But she would be fine. She had been through worse pain.

When he was fully inside her- somehow, he made it fit, she didn’t know how- he started to move.

“My kin….Thou lower than we … Thou deserves this fate…” Cassetti said.

It felt like a beating, not a rape. Each thrust punched her lower body, bruising her on the inside and outside. Faust realized he didn’t intend to arouse her- though that would be horrific, and just as violating- but to torture her.

And it was working.

I can handle this. Blood dripped down her legs, and her body trembled, which was a contradiction- but she could handle it.

Dante couldn’t shed tears, but they could physically sob. She’d never heard them cry until now, though.

Their broken-up ticking told her everything.

This was the first time somebody had cried for her.

<I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…It'll be over soon...>

But she didn’t need to be pitied. She was fine.

(Yet she cried out when Cassetti rammed her cervix. Humiliation curdled in her stomach.)

Gesellschaft became her escape. The other Fausts would discuss familiar things. She willed them to overtake her mind.

They distracted her, but once Cassetti noticed she was zoning out, he drove a fist into her stomach. Her muscles locked up from the impact, which gave him the freedom to fuck up her insides more, as if he hadn’t done enough of that already. He took pleasure in every wince and shudder.

Eventually, she reached her limit. She contacted Gesellschaft.

I am currently undergoing forced intercourse. For reasons unknown to me, I cannot properly migrate my psychological distress in this circumstance. I require your advice posthaste.

Does the assailant demand information from you? Another Faust. An important one.

She responded: No. The assailant is of unsound mind with no clear motive.

The voices of other Fausts trickled into her head.

One Faust shared this: When I underwent assault, I contemplated the solutions to various formulas. The excessive use of mental energy provided a fundamental distraction.

But she wants a practical method. This is abstract, for there are thousands of formulas, and it would not remove the parasite between her legs.

I do not believe this topic is relevant to our pursuit of knowledge.

Sometimes, Faust could be cold.

N Faust. Be still. Let it happen. You’re going to be purified.

(Sinclair, pinned to the ground. No, she wouldn't, not even in another life.)

-Locate possible leverage over your captor-

She did not possess any leverage…!

-Recognize that their goal is to make you small. How they will take advantage of your submission control you-

Faust would not submit.

Faust’s reporting has deemed this act more traumatizing than originally thought. Faust will require steady psychological support.

None of this helped. She wanted this to end.

Eventually, her captor’s muscles clenched. Warm fluid spilled into her. Was there nothing she could have done? Was this inevitable, even with the information in her hands? No, Faust had control. Something had gone wrong.

He threw her to the end of the bus corridor like scrap to be tossed aside.

Her awareness slipped away. This would have been useful during her assault. Another unfair thing in a long list of unfair things.

From that point forward, her memory faded. She didn’t know how much time passed.

She came back when the screaming started.

You see, regardless of a telepathic connection, everyone heard Dante tick when they spoke. The sinners could hear their voice alongside the sound.

But that wasn’t the only sound Dante made. For example, they made an alarm noise when surprised.

And when they screamed, they would let out a shrill wail, like the screech of a machine. That sound brought Faust back to reality.

Her head turned.

Cassetti was tearing into Dante’s uniform.

She stared.

While Faust tried to process, Cassetti unclothed them. Dante’s skin was an unnatural dark gray, their proportions as ambiguous as the rest of their body.

A <” No… ”> slipped out of Dante, though they knew Cassetti couldn’t hear it. It was involuntary.

Cassetti’s lip curled when he wrenched their legs apart.

“ Thou not of the female sex, nor the male sex? Thou is unnatural...Sinful! Thou must be punished! “

Dante tried to swallow their shame. So what if their genitalia was rather ambiguous, it wasn’t something they questioned. Having a clock-head and revival powers was the absurd thing.

“I shall set thou right.”

<F…Faust, what do I do?”> Their voice, high and terrified, didn’t sound like the confident manager who helped her on the train. Terror had a way of simplifying people.

“‘Cease this, Cassetti…” Faust said.

“Ah! Mine ears. It grates, it burns, thy foolish woman!” Cassetti snarled.

Against all sense, Dante looked at their assailant. His cock looked obscene up close. It was streaked with blood and cum down to the pubes. It was Faust's blood, and there was so much, and it was going to go inside them-

A powerful force ripped through their stomach and brought them to the floor. They dry-heaved on their hands and knees. They couldn’t vomit without a mouth, but their stomach still tried to disgorge.

“Aha. Ahahahahahah…! Verily…. how long hath I waited? I hunger…”

Faust dragged herself forward with limbs that felt like dead branches.

Cassetti grabbed Dante’s waist.

<W…wait…b-before he does this... Ask him if…If I can rewind for you…”> Their voice shook.

It was an odd request.

She thought about what Dante would feel. The agony between their legs, the scrapes and bruises on their skin. They’d endure this knowing it would happen to them in minutes. The agony of a rewind faded in less than 20 seconds, but this pain would be theirs, and they’d feel it for weeks.

She didn’t usually think about Dante’s suffering. Information was a necessity, emotions were a liability.

Why was she thinking about it now?

Faust steadied herself. “...Dante is inquiring if they can rewind since you have concluded your…correspondance…with me.”

Dante keeled over from a punch to the gut. “Thine fool!” Casetti shouted. It shall do no such thing, lest I kill it!”

<I’m sorry.> They said.

Faust shook her head. “No…It is I who lead you here.”

<It’s n-not your fault…You didn’t know.>

“Dante…”

<I’d still follow you.”>

Faust’s eyes widened. For the first time, she was at a loss for words.

A moment later, Cassetti broke Dante from the crystals. They writhed in his grip, but their strength was inferior. They were pinned to the floor in seconds. Frantic ticking and struggles ensued.

“Cassetti…!” Faust shouted.

He must have assumed that Dante was physically weaker than Faust. It was a reasonable conclusion since Dante didn't participate in combat. It was also the correct one.

He lifted Dante above their waist. Faust observed the disproportion in their size. He prodded at their hole while they thrashed and cried out. < Ahhhh…!> But she couldn't save them. Nothing could.

“Enough!” Faust shouted.

Cassetti impaled them. Dante’s thighs spasmed from the strain. <A-agghhh…!>

“They are improperly prepared for this act! You must- “

“Silence! Thou has been way too loud! Silence or they die!”

She looked like she would try to protest again, then shut her mouth. But she didn’t look away.

<“Faust! C-can you make me self-destruct I don’t- Aaghh-!> They twisted in Cassetti’s grip. <I do-don’t want to die but if it makes this stop maybe there’s a backup plan or something, Faust->

Dante was tolerant of pain, but this was more than pain.

There wasn’t enough time to reach the button. She could barely move, and Cassetti would stop her.

But she tried. She tried until it was too late.

Finally, Cassetti penetrated them completely.

They made an inhuman noise, a high-pitched, haunting wail. Even during the worst rewinds, they never sounded like that. Someone was being eaten alive.

Dante’s body didn’t provide lubrication (not like that did much for Faust), so she worried about internal bleeding or perforation.

Yet she could do nothing but struggle forward

At this angle, Cassetti penetrated them deeper than Faust. They bled, they writhed, they sobbed, but the onslaught wouldn’t end. It felt like their lower body was going to burst, and they wondered how they hadn’t been ripped in half. How their body could physically take it.

Rewinding was hell, too, but that was only a moment. This wasn’t just agonizing, but visceral and uncomfortable. Humiliating. Terrifying. And they couldn’t make it stop. The pain was supposed to stop. That's why they could handle the burden.

(That, and the pride and affection they felt for the Sinners.)

Their prosthetic head cracked on the floor. Long fingernails raked down their back. At one point, Cassetti held them by the chest and beat them with his free hand. All while violating them.

Why did he have to make it worse?

And it kept going. The Bloodfiend probably couldn’t orgasm again in such a short time, but it clearly didn’t matter to him. The bus echoed with Dante’s cries.

“Submit to thine prince! Thou blood shall be purified!”

It took a long time for Faust to drag herself over. With her exhausted limbs, her bleeding fingers, and what felt like a razor blade between her legs, it wasn’t an easy task.

Dante noticed her before he did.

<...F…Faust… don’t.”> Their voice was thick with pain.

She grabbed Cassetti’s ankle.

“Enough!” She said.

Cassetti pulled out of Dante. Then he jabbed his foot into her stomach, made her curl up and cough. He struck her so hard that she slammed into one of the seats. A few more kicks in the chest- the noises of the beating alone were nauseating- and she was vomiting on the floor. Satisfied, he went back to brutalizing her manager.

Like nothing had happened.

If Dante could shed tears, they’d shed enough for both of them.

That was how it went down. Faust, curled in a corner, beaten and naked, trying to breathe among the sounds of Dante’s abuse. Those cries never let up. They didn’t even have the strength to stand, so their torturer held them upright while ravaging them.

But there was one other person.

Don Quixote, who had dragged her body over, would see the atrocity in minutes. When she got close enough to hear her manager scream, adrenaline suppressed her pain. She arrived in moments.

That sight would stay with her forever.

Don Quixote believed in hope. Don Quixote believed in the common people, the righteous fixer, the medieval hero. Don Quixote- improbably old, bright-eyed, and innocent- saw her friends get raped.

N-Nay…

…Prithee, it c-cannot be…

She didn’t understand until she saw the blood between Faust’s legs. She didn’t know she’d fallen to her knees until their torturer stood up.

Cassetti turned to Don Quixote. Dante’s voice cracked. <No, please….Not her, too…Please…>

She saw red.

You see, Don Quixote knew she held a terrible power inside. She’d woken up to destruction without memory of its cause, dead bodies she didn’t remember killing.

When she found the trigger, she swore it wouldn’t happen again.

That was irrelevant right now. Her world had narrowed down to this room.

Manager Esquire…Lady Faust… Forgive me for being too late for thee.

Don Quixote kicked off her shoes.

This is thine repentance.

The Second Kindred mutilated Cassetti.

Dante grabbed Faust's wrist with a shaking hand.