Chapter Text
Quick note; im deplorable at writing lol, but fr im likely gonna struggle and constantly edit this work. This story is focused around a character suffering from ptsd and i wish to properly and respectfully show this so if anyone sees a mistake pls point it out! 0 offense will be taken (duh). Lastly the characters of twisted wonderland will be speaking Japanese whilst my `yuu` speaks mainly German and has difficulty with japanese due to his limited use of it, the entire thing will however be written in English. My character does NOT originate from any specific war in German history and is not linked with any real events! Please keep this in mind. Then, have a pleasant read!
His last memory, albeit a bit blurry from the pain, was clearly of his body bursting into many tiny pieces.
Yet why is he still alive?
At first, coated in complete darkness with his body stark still, he believed he had made it to the afterlife. But quickly the feeling within his limbs returned and along with it his other senses; the strong smell of old wood, his tense muscles, everything felt far too ordinary to him.
As he began to wriggle within the tight confines of what he assumed now to be his coffin, it occured to him what must have happened - after his obvious death, he was buried by those around him...
He knew that was simply unrealistic. No graves were made and, even if they were, they would be blown to smithereenes within mere minutes due to the many tanks and landmines planted along the ground.
No, this was something different, something he couldn't comprehend. Worsed of all, was the sinking feeling, the realization that he was still alive. His only means of truly running away left him here.
As if on cue, perhaps to distract him from his thoughts, he heard an oddly raspy and squeaky voice sound from outside the wooden walls encasing him.
"I better hurry up and find that uniform before someone spots me..."
This was strange. Too strange. He couldnt fathom how - or why - he was hearing that familiar language again.
He had only ever heard it from a single fellow soldier of his who had come from there.
Japanese, but how was he hearing it here?
To be fair, he didn't even know where 'here' was.
"Urgggh... this lid weighs a ton!"
The voice sounded odd, it sounded young but nothing like the voice of a child. His mind raced with ideas and theories cut short only when he heard it squeak out words once again.
"Try this on for size! Mya-ha!"
Suddenly the cold coffin felt more like an oven. Warmth quickly erupted, but it didnt simply stay warm, it burned.
"It burns" - the immediate alarm bells that were set off in his mind triggered his fight or flight response and - unfortunately for the rat-like creature that had just caused this trouble - he was ready to do both.
His vision overtaken by blue he pushed himself out of the coffin, crumbling through the wood with ease due to the flames, only to come face to face with the perpetrator.
His body froze at the sight.
"E-eine sprechende Ratte?!" (a talking rat?)
The boy exclaimed, his parched throat causing his words to sound strangled.
"W-what the- Grr, what are you speaking, human?! How dare you speak to the great GRIM with a tone like that-!"
The weasel look-alike snarled before it seemed to remember what it was doing.
"Tch. Whatever. You... human! Just gimme your uniform, and be quick aboout it!"
He looked at the Raccon thing, his brain slowly translating the words.
"Give... uniform... quick?"
He repeated, the phrase slowly clicking into place. He looked down at himself. A large black cloak covered his body, and beneath it he was clad in a uniform he didnt recognize. Not his normal uniform, it was one that resembled the uniform of the cult he had once stumbled upon, though it didn't look the same. He could only consider that he was either a new member, or the newest sacrifice. Judging from the uniform he was to be the newest member.
His hand slowly went to touch his face, namely the lack of skin running from the edge of his lip to his cheekbone, allowing the now cool air to flow into his mouth despite his sealed lips. It seemed within the chaos, his appearance either went unnoticed or ignored by the raccoon.
"If you keep dawling i'll just burn it off you!"
The cat-like thing snarled and - for once - he didn't need to translate it. It was pretty clear that it wasn't friendly.
Despite his inner turmoil he bounced to his feet, darting past the thing, stumbling his way through the dark-wood door.
The aching and sharp pain within every part of his body sounded out like an orchestra as he ran as fast as his tired legs could carry him.
Every movement left his body screaming for him to stop, but with the fiery rat at his heels he knew he couldn't afford to.
Every hallway, every passage, every new floor he tread on looked stranger and stranger. The place was clearly grand but the murky appearance made it feel abandoned by the living, only a dwelling for the dead.
Perhaps that was why he was here.
His blind floundering left him in a huge hall filled with shelf after shelf, stacked high with book after book and only mildly illuminated by a singly candle melting from the overhead chandelier.
Due to the unfamiliar surroundings his brain couldn't help but panic as he found himself in a dead end.
The flaming weasel caught up, its grainy voice sounding out with satisfaction.
"Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from ME?"
He didn't need to understand the thing to recognize its gloating.
As it opened it's little mouth, likely to spout more threats and demands, a sharp noise erupts out of nowhere, causing the rat to yelp out with pain.
"Consider it tough love." A deep, echoing voice announced as a tall man walked out from the shadows. His large, flashy coat swooped over an ordinary suit. An angular mask covered his face, along with his black hat which cast a shadow over his expression, though his yellow eyes still shone unignorably bright.
The man began to drabble on, but all he could catch was something about him being a student and that he had violated a rule. Although little could be made out from his words, the boy could instinctively tell that this was a troublesome situation. A broken rule always was. The only question he had was, what were the consequences of breaking rules in this cult?
The rat screeched, it's words squeaky and hard to understand, but simply from knowing the word 'lowly' it wasn't hard to guess it's issue.
The man simply tugged on his tool, shutting it up.
The boy wasn't familiar with the long rope in the man's hand that was attached to a firm handle, but he wasn't eager to feel the use of it on my skin.
The man seemed to complain before he said a few words worth hearing.
"Orientation begun, return to chamber"
As the words echoed from the man's mouth he felt himself hesitate, though that ultimately didn't matter as when it took him too long to respond the man tugged on his arm.
He kept himself from wincing before obediently following the man, afterall what could he do when all his things were stripped from him?
As the realization kicked in and the man stepped into the light of the hallway lanterns the boy hesitated, finally forming quiet words of request despite the situation.
"Haben sie- you have... mask..?"
The boy prayed he had used the correct words...
As it seemed the man was about to talk proudly about his own mask the boy shook his head.
"for me?"
He said, a quiet request that still came off as urgent.
Silence ensued before the man coughed awkwardly. Although it seemed like the boy was about to be questioned, the man seemed to catch sight of the ripped skin on his face, low candlelight dimly illuminating it.
The lengthening silence was quickly broken as the man pulled a mask from somewhere within his feather-covered coat that seemed identical to his own.
As the boy gazed down at the mask, ignoring the man's loud and boisterious voice which erupted once more, he slowly folded it, allowing the creases of the fabric to close up the holes where the eyes were supposed to peak through. As he turned the mask upside down and placed it carefully over his face it seemed to just stick there, the creases seemingly freezing in time to keep the eyeholes sealed shut.
As his slight issue had been tackled, he observed the loud man's demeanor. The man seemed to have finally come to a stop from his spouting and now he simply turned and walked, dragging the still struggling animal along with him.
The boy could only follow, questions leaving his mind to spiral as his feet tred where the man's did.
Phew that was a lot of writing! How are we liking it so far? I was thinking every chapter could be like those in the game (though some might overlap slightly). I'm not sure when i'll update this story, and if anyone will even read it is a mystery, but if you do and you like it please revisit it once in a while for updates!! Lastly, let me know if you want PoV changes or not, as it might take a little longer writing if i'm including those!
Chapter Text
Omg the overwhelming support you guys are AWESOME!!!
The strange man dragged him through ever-shifting hallways.
As they approached the end of another dreary walkway, they were steadily approaching a large, silver-embellished door, a mix of blue and orange shining out from the cracks between the wall and the door's hinges.
Distant murmuring could be heard from beyond the glistening metal.
"We're done with orientation and dorm assignments?" said a haughty and sharp voice.
"All right, new students - let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it's off with your head!" the sharp one stated with a cold tone before another voice murmurs, heard only due to it's proximity to the door.
"yawn Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me." the voice sounded low and tired. Another voice, reminding the boy a lot of one of the government officials he had once observed from afar, announced himself grandly.
"New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House..."
the boy could barely focus on the tirade of voices announcing themselves in a muffled manner.
"Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony..." A regal voice posed the question to which a quiet whisper of a voice answered.
"Some headmage he is."
"Maybe he had a tummyache?" a rather innocent voice sounded when the boy realized they were now up close to the silver chains dangling as decor from the door.
The masked man flung the doors open declaring his presence with pure indignation.
"I most certainly did not!"
He snapped, earning a quick reply from the sharp-sounding voice from before. The voice's owner was a shorter boy, dressed in a black cloack with gold and purple detailing on its rims and top, much like the many other around. Small streaks of bright red hair peaked out from his hood, his grey-blue eyes upturned around the edges, giving him a strict impression.
"Ah speak of the devil" the boy replied with slight surprise.
The masked-man's mouth opened to announce his reason for departure.
"If you must know, I was searching for the new student who'd failed to show for orientation."
The boy had so far been understanding their words with great effort, but certain phrases such as Octavinelle and Heartslabyul left him far more unsettled than he already was. He disliked the amount of people surrounding him, far outnumbering him in their masses. He suspected the foreign words were keywords for a ritual or a sort of order established within the cult.
The boy, distracted by his theories and observations was startled when the man suddenly adressed him.
"You are the only one who has yet to be assigned a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I'll watch your weasel." The man said curtly as the rat-thing let out an aggrivated growl at the weasel comment.
Even if the boy wished to protest, by now he lacked the choice. The only way of knowing if this was truly a ritual was to approach the 'mirror'.
The mirror at first appeared to reflect an inky black, when a mask phased into view as he approached, green flames now visibly roaring around the mask itself.
"State your name." The mask demanded in a deep voice.
The boy knew he couldn't truly give his name in this completely unknown place. let alone infront of this gathering of cultists.
Before his brian could react the words spilled from his mouth...
"Ich bin- ...Im yuu." The boy answered simply, as his brain processed his own words. As the name left his mouth regret quickly boiled up within him, ashamed of using something so precious to disguise himself.
Though he could not dwell on his thought for long as the mask continued speaking.
"The nature of your soul is..."
...
the silence dragged on and 'Yuu' couldn't help but lose interest, unsure wether this is what was supposed too be happening but too impatient to await the next few words.
"...unclear to me." the mask finished.
A few additional seconds of silence passed before the masked man seemed to regain his composure.
"What did you just say?" he asked incredulously.
Brain overspent from his mental translations the boy missed the mirror's words, only returning when the masked man let out an accusatory snap.
"Are you suggesting that the black carriage went to receive a person who cannot even use magic?"
'Yuu' faltered, considering the mans words. The carriage was likely his means of transport here, thought the idea of 'magic' was rather foreign to him. He could only associate it with the other soliders card tricks which they stated were 'magic'.
Regardless, he knew the reaction received was anything but good, evident by not only the masked mans snapping but additionally the many murmurs of those around him. He instinctually went to pat his belt before remembering his lack of personal items.
The masked man kept up his shocked arguing before finally seeming to think instead of deny.
"How could this have happened?" the masked man wondered outloud.
Simultaneously the runt, grunting, struggled against its restraints before finally clawing itself out form the whips tight grasp. It let out a gasp before snarling angrily at the masked man.
"ME! Let ME have this student's seat!"
The masked man, who was caught off guard by the sudden development, quickly retorted as he ran the whip through his fingers to check its condition.
"Not so fast, you hyperactive weasel!"
Though that didn't deter the thing in the slightest.
"Unlike that human, i can actually use magic! So let me be a student here! Look, I'll show you! My spells're the cat's meow!" The boy caught the familiar sight of the things blue flames sudeenly hightening.
The sharp red-headed boy from before sensibly shouted for the cluttered crowd of cultists to duck down.
The little raccoon opened its mouth wide, blue flames erupting all around.
A white-haired boy, likely the one with the more innocent voice from before, let out a loud yelp
"AHHHHH! HELP! I'm on fire over here!"
The boy was anxiously looking around him, his enrapturingly red eyes glistening with fearful tears.
'Yuu' turned his gaze, observing quietly as the masked man snapped at those around him.
The boy with the regal voice and the boy with the sleepy one seemed to be bickering. The regal one had gorgeous long hair which faded from a light blonde to a royal purple whilst the tired one had tanned skin, long braided brown hair and a large scar running over his left eye. At further inspection a long, fluffy tail swayed by the brown-haired mans feet.
The man whos voice oddly reminded 'yuu' of motor oil spoke, his ever-convincing voice announcing how he will be responsible.
The boy wore thing rectangular glasses, his white hair with a purple tinge was swooped to one side revealing sharp, ocean blue eyes.
Suddenly the voice from before which seemed more like a whisper emerged from a floating rectangle. It glowed as the symbol on it expanded as the voice sounded.
"WTG Azul. Rackin' up those participation credits."
'Yuu' couldn't decipher the odd rectangles words, but he assumed it was more cultist bickering.
More complaints were voiced by the masked man and the white haired boy with red eyes, both for completely different reasons.
'Yuu' decided to focus on the white haired ones complaint first and foremost, he waved at the boy who seemed to atleast understand his signals as 'yuu' signalled rolling.
With one issue sorted he watched as those who seemed to be the cults leaders argued and negated their duties to one another.
Eventually it seemed the only two who took matters into their own hands were the red-headed boy and the boy with glasses.
As they chased the rat around, eventually driving it into a corner, 'yuu' managed to overhear the red one call the boy with glasses, 'Azul.'
'Yuu' continued observing, though his feet were balancing on the front of his sole, ready to bolt the moment he sensed any danger by the cultists around him
Hello, I hope you liked the chapter! I wrote this whilst listening to an hour of silence with occasional pikmin noises! (I needed something to keep me awake)
Anyways, I know theres a lot in this chapter and the titles can be a bit confusing, especially to those who havent played or read twisted wonderland, but i tried my best to keep my basic descriptions consistent! Any questions about not understanding part of the plot or similar issues will be answered in the comments without any plot spoilers!
tobbbbb on Chapter 1 Wed 20 Nov 2024 11:39PM UTC
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Iliad_hsr on Chapter 1 Thu 21 Nov 2024 07:05AM UTC
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Ed3n_wws on Chapter 1 Thu 21 Nov 2024 12:14PM UTC
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Iliad_hsr on Chapter 1 Thu 21 Nov 2024 07:14PM UTC
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