Umi Writes - Tumblr Posts

His Watchful Eye Pt. 2

Word Count: 8.5k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem! reader, noncon, dub con, kidnapping, mentions of blood, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, manipulation, ownership, petnames like kitten + sweetie, xavier appears, threats

Taglist: @xmiisuki, @connorsui , (Pls let me know if u want a tag!)

AN: 8.5k words...yikes yall I might have went a teeny bit crazy. If this is too long for you to read on tumblr, I also have it on my A03! Enjoy fellow degenerates! If you'd like to be on the tag list for possibly a part 3, please let me know in the comments and I'll get your name down. I added people that I figured would want a tag. Minors will not be tagged. Please please heed the warnings and skip if the tags bother you at all!

"The effects of your birth control should have worn off by now," he continues, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's been out of your system for some time." Panic begins to consume you, and your breathing quickens as horrifying images of being pregnant with your captor’s child flood your mind. "Don't run. This will be easier if you just lie down," he murmurs, his tone almost soothing, but the threat behind it is unmistakable.

Read Pt 1 here!!

The sound of sliced flesh.

It’s a soft, almost rhythmic noise, unlike your muffled screams. A searing pain cutting through your arm like fire as your flesh splits open under the now bloodied glass. You heave and groan in agony when your throat gives out from screaming , vision blurred by tears. The minutes crawl by, cut by cut forming new lines in your arm. Then it stops, replaced by desperate but steady fingers as they reach into the bleeding injury. Before you’re able to even comprehend the soaring ache this action brings to your wound, it’s gone.

You try to blink, unable to form any clear shapes on the now blurry ceiling. You look over to the man staring tenderly down at you now, and through tears you see the silhouette of a bloodied birth control implant perked between his fingers as if it was a trophy.

Then darkness.

You’re running now. Heart pounding as the world blurs around you. Rough terrain pulls at your legs making each panicked step feel like a battle. Branches scratch at your skin, their sharp edges a cruel reminder of your impending doom.

You don’t even know where you’re going. If there’s even an end. But you don’t stop. You need to get away, far far away. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, cold air burning your lungs as you tumble through a dark forest.

A lowly and deep voice calls from behind you.

“Do you really think you can run from me?”

Desperation courses through your veins as you attempt to push your body to the limit. To run faster.

But instead, you stumble and fall, your foot catching on a jagged patch of rocks that jut out from the forest floor. The pain shoots through your ankle as you crash to the ground, your body twisting instinctively to land on your back. The breath is knocked out of you, and for a moment, the world tilts, spinning wildly. You try to push yourself up, but it’s too late—your limbs feel heavy, and dread coils in your stomach.

A dark, broad silhouette looms above you, blocking out what little light filters through the trees. Red eyes flash in the dimly lit surroundings. His long, spindly fingers stretch out, trembling with anticipation as they reach for you, closing the distance inch by inch. You can’t move,—paralyzed by the terror that seizes your heart as those fingers reach to touch you.

No.

His fingers touch your neck.

Stop.

They move lower, tender grazing your lower neck before beginning to pop the buttons that would reveal your bare chest to him.

“STOP!”

Your eyes snap open, and a scream tears from your throat. Panic surges through you as you thrash wildly, desperate to escape the burning touch and invasive presence of your captor. Your clothes cling to your skin, soaked with sweat, amplifying the feeling of suffocation. Before you can comprehend what’s happening, strong, muscular arms wrap around you, pulling you tightly into an anxious embrace.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay… you’re gonna reopen your stitches squirming like that,” he whispers, his voice strained and groggy, as though he had just been woken up. Despite his soothing tone, you continue to struggle, trying to free yourself from his hold, but his grip is firm, pressing you against his chest. His heartbeat thuds like a drum in your ear, both grounding and terrifying in its steady rhythm.

It’s only when a sharp, searing pain shoots through your arm that you freeze, a pained whine escaping your lips. The intensity of the pain forces you to stop resisting, your body going limp as you gasp for breath.

“L-let go, it hurts…” you manage to strain out, your voice trembling. At your words, his grip finally loosens, giving you a moment of relief. You glance down at your arm, where a gauze pad is tightly bandaged with near surgical precision. The once-white gauze is now stained with dark red spots, evidence that your frantic movements have aggravated the wound.

Tender hands reach out and touch one of the bloodied spots and you flinch. Something flashes in the man’s eyes at your reaction.

Sadness? No, you tell yourself.

Regret?

But just as quickly as the change came, he was back to his unreadable face.

“I’ll change it. Stay here”

He nonchalantly rolled off the bed, turning on a nearby lamp. You watch his tall figure stroll into the nearby bathroom, anxiety riddling through your head. As you listen to him open some cabinets and drawers, your gaze moves and lands on the door to the bedroom. You look back at the bathroom, trying to ponder if you should run for it while he’s still preoccupied.

“Don’t bother sweetie” Sylus calls out, as if reading your mind and predicting your antics came naturally to him now.

“I’ve had the door lock changed to a fingerprint scanner. You can’t open it now, even if you tried”

A sickening wave of defeat washes over you and you slump into the bed. Still, you wouldn’t let your pride die. There has to be other ways out. And even if there wasn’t, he would slip up eventually. There would be an opportunity and you would slip past his watchful eye before he even realized it.

Sylus emerges from the bathroom, carrying a large white box. Your body stiffens as he gets closer, your instincts making you move further away from him on the bed. He simply closes the distance, grabbing your body and pulling you into his lap as he sat down.

“Hey!” you hiss, struggling ferociously in his arms. But he simply ignores you, holding you with one arm while taking a smaller box out of his pocket. You blink, reading the label.

“Candy?” you ask, eyeing the box. It was small round, fruit flavored hard candies, similar to lemonheads. Sylus poured one in his hand, gazing back at you.

“I went out and bought this while you were unconscious” he stated, bringing the candy to your lips. “It’s your favorite. Eat this while I change your bandage, it’ll be a good distraction.”

You blink at him dumbfoundedly as he pushed the candy past your lips and into your mouth. It was a slightly tangy but mostly sweet apple flavor. You glared at Sylus as he gently started to unwrap the blood stained bandage from your arm. This couldn’t have been the same Sylus earlier that had stared down at you like a lion would a lamb, the one that had grabbed your arm roughly and-

The painful memories of the moment the glass had cut your flesh resurfaced, making you flinch and close your eyes.

“Did I hurt you?” Sylus asked calmly, seeming to have mistaken your reaction to be that of physical pain.

“Yes…” you lie. Although it wasn’t a full lie. He had hurt you earlier. And yet he had not offered a single apology. Did he think giving you candy like some upset child would suffice for slicing your arm open?

He doesn't respond, but his touch softens as he carefully unwraps the bandage from your arm. Your gaze burns with anger as you watch him remove the gauze, the memory of the earlier bloody mess still fresh in your mind. But as the last layer is peeled away, the sight surprises you. The bloody scene from before has vanished, replaced by a neat row of stitches, with only a few spots of blood clinging to the edges of the thread.

You blink dumbfoundedly at the stitches. Had he stitched you up while you were passed out? No, he didn’t seem like the type of guy to know how to do that. He must have called someone in there to do it. Would he call them back to check on it later? Maybe you could tell them your predicament and escape?

Your head is busy swimming with ideas that you don’t realize Sylus has soaked a cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide until he begins to wipe it on your stitches. You hiss in pain, attempting to move your arm away but he grabs your wrist firmly, resuming his task of cleaning up the blood on your arm. All you can do is sit on his lap, tearfully watching as he does so.

You had cleaned up your own injuries before, and never really cried while doing so. Something about this situation was just…daunting? Hypocritical. You’re completely at his mercy. The person that had caused such harm was now tenderly cleaning it up and changing the bandage. It angered you, but also made you more fearful of him. He seemed to have gone cold to caring in mere hours.

You blinked back tears as he continued to shower you with his care, unable to make a sound. The tears flowed down your cheeks finally, as you kept the candy inside your mouth, neither spitting or making an effort to swallow it.

Finally, Sylus finished wiping up all the blood on your injury, looking up to read your expression. Upon seeing your tear stained face, his gaze turned to worry. Unable to hold back, he began to caress your cheeks, not minding the way it soaked his fingers. His movements were stiff and unpracticed but he continued to do so until your face was no longer covered in tears.

“Does it still hurt?”

Sylus couldn’t help but to ask. He’d never felt so useless, so helpless before. Seeing you in pain now after his previous loss of control elicited a new emotion in him.

Guilt.

You didn’t respond immediately, the candy rolling slowly in your mouth as you considered his words. Finally, you nodded, lifting your gaze to meet his. It surprised you to see how much your tears seemed to affect him now. You’d come to realize how unpredictable he was. Sylus carefully placed a fresh piece of gauze over your injury, securing it with bandages. With nothing more to do, he set the supplies aside and gently pulled you into his arms.

You tried to resist him at first, but eventually gave in.

You continued to tear up in his arms, tongue rolling the candy around in your mouth for quite a long time. By the time you stopped crying, the front side of his sweater was completely soaked with tears.

The mere sight of your crying face brought upon a certain sorrow to Sylus. He let out a sigh, leaning his head back until all he could see was the ceiling.

He had never been this affected by a singular persons emotions. Countless times, men and women alike had begged for his mercy, and he had simply stared and laughed at them. He hadn’t cared that they were crying cause of him, much less the fact that they were crying at all. But this was different. He had inflicted a harsh punishment on you out of anger. And while he didn’t regret removing your birth control, it should’ve been done professionally and with some sort of numbing.

He was supposed to keep you from harm and yet, had harmed you himself.

He sighed again, beginning to roll out words that were foreign to him.

“I’m sorry.”

You lay there frozen against his chest as the words left his lips—an apology. Of all the things you expected from him, an apology was the very last. Your heart raced as confusion, anger, and a strange sense of disbelief mingled together. The Sylus that had sliced your arm open was not the one holding you right now. This was a different side to him, his eyes followed with regret and guilt. The sincerity in his voice caught you completely off guard and you struggle to say anything.

“You…you’re sorry?” you spat. “As if I’d ever believe that absolute bullshit”. You look straight up at him, the bitterness in your tone slices through the air like a knife. How could he possibly think to be forgiven for hurting you like that?

For even kidnapping you in the first place?? You’d honestly rather get your other arm sliced open than ever accept an apology from this man. Sylus doesn’t say anything, instead only giving you a slight smile.

He suddenly stands up from the bed, you in his arms. Your eyes widen as he turns around and gently places you on the soft mattress, confusion clouding your thoughts. Is he going to hit you? Yell at you?

You close your eyes, bracing for some kind of pain to follow next.

He pulls the comforter over your body, lightly pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“One of my men will bring you food if you wish to eat, otherwise you should sleep. I have to to get work done” he says calmly, reaching down to gather up the medical supplies from the floor. Men? There's more than one person living here? Are they just as corrupt as him?

You ponder what kind of “work” this man even does to have such a huge, lavish room in the first place. You had only seen this room and the bathroom ever since you came here, but it was clear as day that the home you were trapped in was not cheap. You watch as he puts everything back in the box, making his way towards the bedroom doors.

You say nothing as he places his fingerprint against the newly placed electronic pad where the original lock once was. It whirrs and with a click, the door opens slightly ajar. Sylus turns around to gaze at you, his look unreadable.

“Sweet dreams. I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, his tall form disappears from the doorway, door shutting behind him. For the first time in the few weeks you had been here, you were alone and alert. You started digging through the mans things almost immediately, hoping to find some kind of clue to where you were or more information on Sylus. Disappointingly, you find nothing but some very classy looking records, and various books about weaponry.

At least you won't be bored.

Hours pass as you search every inch of the room and bathroom. You even looked out the windows again, trying to catch glimpses of any strangers on the ground. No one had passed in all the time you had looked though. Seems wherever you were located, no one ever came close. You jump when you suddenly hear the mechanics of the lock whir to life, door opening soon after. In steps in two men, wearing bird masks, exactly the same height and figure. You freeze, unsure what the hell to do or say.

"Hi, miss, the boss asked us to check on you!" one of them said cheerily, carefully placing a plate on a nearby table. The aroma of freshly cooked chicken pasta wafted through the air, and your eyes were drawn to the plate. It was elegantly arranged, with tender pieces of chicken nestled in a creamy sauce atop a bed of fettuccine. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until your stomach growled in response. Despite the tempting sight, you remained cautious, keeping your distance.

"Who are you? Do you work for Sylus?" you asked, narrowing your eyes as you sized up the two strangers.

"I'm Luke," the one on the left replied, a playful grin spreading across his face. "And this guy right here is actually my soul!" He gestured to the man beside him, his voice laced with amusement. "It can leave my body, as you can see. Impressive, right?"

The man on the right—presumably the "soul"—gave an exaggerated, goofy growl, baring his teeth and making claw gestures with his hands. His performance was so over the top that it was more comical than intimidating. The two of them burst into laughter, their camaraderie evident. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their antics.

"This is who he has working for him? Seriously?" you muttered, a mixture of disbelief and relief washing over you. Their goofiness was a welcome contrast to the tense situation, and you found yourself lowering your guard just a little. If nothing else, they seemed harmless enough. The still-unnamed man crossed his arms, his lips curving into a pout as he tried to maintain a serious expression.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, though his voice was still tinged with laughter. "Anyway, I'm Kieran. We're actually twin brothers, in case you couldn't tell."

"I can't really tell with the masks to be honest..." you say lowly, taking small steps towards the food. "Can I see your faces?"

The two of them shake their heads, somewhat apologetically. "Its for everyone's safety that you don't know what we look like. Luke's ain't exactly got the kind of face you'd wanna look at anyways..." Kieran whispers jokingly, earning him a nudge in the stomach from his twin brother. You couldn't help but chuckle at the small joke, your guard completely down now.

"See, I got her to laugh. That's for sure worthy of a raise" Kieran said, seemingly proud of himself. You roll your eyes, finally shedding enough anxiety to come closer to the plate of food.

These two goofballs were definitely more tolerable than Sylus at least. You reach the plate of food, sitting down on the sofa to begin eating. You twirl the fork in the pasta pondering something as the twins begin to leave.

"Hey..." you call out. The men stop, turning their mask adorned faces in your direction.

"This is probably a stupid question. But you wouldn't happen to know where we're located would you?" you ask, praying they answer. They turn towards each other seeming hesitant to respond. Luke speaks up first.

"It can't hurt to mention where we're located in general, right?" he says, pressing his fingerprint against the scanner to unlock the door. You realize in that moment that any hope of convincing these two to help you escape was futile, despite their goofy demeanor. If Sylus trusted them enough to access the room where he kept his most prized possession—you—then it was clear they wouldn't betray his trust.

"We're in the N109 Zone," he casually reveals.

You accidentally drop your fork, the sound echoing in the silence as the name hits you like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly, everything clicks into place—the N109 Zone, the white hair, the sprawling mansion. Memories from work briefings surge through your mind, each one more chilling than the last: illegal protocore trading, unsolved murders, and sudden, catastrophic building explosions. One name had always been tied to these heinous acts.

You had been kidnapped by none other than the leader of Onychinus.

And it was clear he had no intention of letting you go.

Your next two weeks were spent scheming ways to escape, and avoiding Sylus at all cost. Whenever you heard the mechanical whir of the door opening, you'd dive into the bathroom and spend hours in there. He'd even began asking if you were having stomach problems. to which you had dismissed his concerns. Despite your obvious avoidance, he surprisingly seemed patient. He wouldn't force you to be near him or talk to him at all. Even when you had elected to sleep on the floor instead of the bed, he had even made you a palace of blankets and pillows on the floor for your comfort.

Of course he'd force you in his lap to change your bandages, but just as quickly as he grabbed you, he'd let you scurry off without fuss. On days he was gone, Luke and Kieran would check on you. Even asking if you wanted to play kitty cards, despite your frequent rejections. Even a mysterious mechanical bird, that seemed more human than robot, would somehow magically appear and disappear from the room at times. You didn't want to get too comfortable though. Besides, it couldn't be too much longer before you were rescued. Xavier had to be looking for you right? You have absolute faith that he was stopping at nothing to find your whereabouts.

It all confused you greatly but you had a guess of why Sylus was acting such a way. He clearly felt some level of guilt for his...outburst. It honestly felt satisfying to see him act such a way. He should feel like a piece of shit and you hoped it stayed that way.

His patience with you was running thin though, as today, when dinner arrived he didn't slide it in the bathroom door as he usually did. Instead, he put it on the table next to his food, electing to read a book while he ate. Clearly waiting for you. You tried your hardest to hold out for almost an hour, but you hadn't eaten that day and eventually succumbed to your primal desires to eat.

You cautiously approached the table, each step deliberate as you calculated how quickly you could grab the plate and make a run for it. Just as your timid fingers brushed against the edge of the plate, he closed his book with a soft thud.

"Sit," he commanded, his tone gentle but leaving no room for defiance.

Not wanting to provoke him further and risk more injuries, you quickly complied, choosing to sit at the far end of the couch. He sighed, placing the book on the table with a sense of finality.

"How long do you think you can avoid me kitten?" he asked, amusement lacing his words. Before you could respond, a familiar cold red mist began to swirl around you, pulling you closer to him with a sudden force. You let out a shriek as you were abruptly yanked into his lap, now mere inches from his face. His warm breath brushed against your cheek, and you felt an unwelcome heat rise to your face.

Why does he have to be so close…

"You're in my room, after all. Isn't it rude to ignore the host?" he murmured, his voice a mix of teasing and authority. His crimson eyes flash a hint of hunger as he looks up and down your tense figure. You shiver but try to keep your composure.

"Not if the guest doesn't want to be here in the first place," you retorted, glaring up at him with defiance. He simply chuckles, reaching over to grab the fork next your plate. He holds it up to you, teasingly.

"Go ahead. It's already getting cold," he says, leaning back slightly to watch you. You silently curse him in your mind but comply, picking up the fork. Today’s meal is a perfectly cooked salmon, drizzled with a creamy lemon and herb butter sauce. On the side, roasted asparagus is topped with fragrant garlic. Even though the food is no longer piping hot, it still looks incredibly appetizing.

You take hearty bites, trying to finish quickly so you can get off his lap. He watches you intently, his eyes tracking every movement as you chew, swallow, and lick your lips. Just as you reach for another bite, he suddenly grabs your face, turning it toward his own. Panic flares within you, and you worry that you’ve somehow angered him.

With strained eyes, you watch as he brings a finger to the corner of your mouth, wiping away a few drops of sauce that your napkin had missed. Your eyes widen in shock as he brings his finger to his lips, licking the sauce off without hesitation. A flush spreads across your face, and you start squirming to get off his lap.

"W-what's wrong with you?" you exclaim, turning your face away in embarrassment. He lets out a hearty chuckle, tightening his grip on you. Realizing there's no way to escape, you stop struggling, though you refuse to look at him, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

"Kitten, look at me," he says, his voice suddenly serious. Reluctantly, and somewhat terrified, you turn back to face him.

"Your stitches don’t hurt anymore, right?" he asks, a hint of sincerity in his tone. Confused as to why he’s asking now of all times, you simply nod. The stitches are barely visible anymore, and they no longer cause you any pain nor discomfort as they had previously.

"I'll cut to the chase then," he says calmly, his eyes locking onto yours with a seriousness that makes your blood run cold. He leans in closer, pressing a soft kiss against your neck before moving to your ear and whispering,

"You still have to give me a baby."

You nearly choke on your spit as the words register, sending a jolt of shock through you. How could you have forgotten about his obsessive desire to get you pregnant? It was the very reason he had removed your birth control, the reason you needed stitches in the first place. Your body tenses instinctively, but he only tightens his grip on you, holding you firmly in place.

"The effects of your birth control should have worn off by now," he continues, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's been out of your system for some time." Panic begins to consume you, and your breathing quickens as horrifying images of being pregnant with your captor’s child flood your mind.

"Don't run. This will be easier if you just lie down," he murmurs, his tone almost soothing, but the threat behind it is unmistakable.

"No! Let go of me! Please...!" you scream, tears streaming down your face as you kick and squirm with all your might, swinging your arms wildly in desperation. But Sylus simply sighs, standing up effortlessly with you still trapped in his arms.

It was natural for you to not want his child but this would be over faster if you just accept it. You don't even have to do anything, just spread your legs and take his seed. Was that so hard?

You scream as he approaches the bed. Acting quickly, you lean back and slam your head into his face with all your strength. The impact causes him to stumble just enough for you to break free and land on your feet. He clutches his head, reaching for you, but you dart away like a startled cat.

Trapped in a room with few options, you dive under the bed, pressing yourself into the farthest corner as you gasp for breath, your head throbbing from the blow you delivered. It doesn’t take long before you see Sylus's shoes, and his face soon appears as he peers at you from the other side. Luckily, his large, broad frame keeps him from crawling under the bed.

"Sweetie, come here."

"Go away asshole!"

"You can't run away from this y'know."

Sylus sighed, still on his knees he offered a hand to the girl hyperventilating under his bed.

"Come out while I'm still being nice" he sighed, patience thinning.

"I'll bite every single of one your fingers off if you touch me" you spat, trying even harder to squish yourself away from him. Sylus shut his eyes out of annoyance before opening them again. This girl was certainly feisty. She hadn't been fighting nearly this hard when she first got here.

Sylus lifts up the frame of the bed with ease, as if it was made of paper much to your dismay, and you scream as he grabs onto you. The struggle under the bed quickly turned into a struggle on top of it. Sylus tried to press his body into you and spread your legs but you had anticipated this. Targeting his vital points like you were taught in training, you aim for his eyes and groin.

Most of your attempts to hit him were easily blocked though. He was simply much faster and stronger than you. You let out something akin to a war cry and try to head butt him again as he leans back over you. Sylus is quick to shove you back on the bed.

"Will you please calm down?" he asked, not even out of breath or sweaty.

"No!"

"Do I need to tie your arms and legs to make you stop?"

"Do it and I'll be sure to put a bullet in your skull when I escape from here" you spat. Sylus adorned an amused grin on his face when you said this, seemingly taken aback by the threat on his life. As much as he wanted to let you know he can't actually succumb to death, now wasn't the time.

Whilst in the midst of thought, the foot that was resting on his shoulder makes contact with his face. Thankfully, Sylus's reflexes were quick and he moved out the way just in time to avoid a broken nose and a few broken teeth. Before he could recover though, you had already made your way out from under him and had lifted up a glass vase that had been sitting across the room.

He wondered why he hadn't subdued you with his evol by now. Maybe this was a lot more fun than he wanted to admit, albeit annoying. He gave you a gentle smile before climbing off the bed and making his way towards you.

"Stay back!" you scream, aiming the vase back, prepared to throw.

"Put it down sweetie, you'll hurt yourself if it shatters"

"As if! I'm not your breeding stock! First you kidnap me and then you want me to bear you a child? Fuck off!"

Sylus freezes, shocked at your words. Breeding stock? Is that what you thought he saw you as? His smile drops as he takes a few more steps towards you.

"I'm losing my patience now. Set that down before I reach the count of three."

"Fuck off prick!"

"One.."

You move towards the bathroom, taking the vase with you.

"Two.."

You simply back against the bathroom door, pondering if you should run inside but that would only further corner you. You clutch the vase even harder.

"Three."

"..."

As expected, you made no movement. Sylus sighed and made his way towards you, your body shaking and trembling in the corner like a scared kitten. He leisurely got closer, no sense of urgency in his steps.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself..."

As soon as Sylus had gotten within grabbing distance you flung the vase in his direction. He evaded it with ease, and you jumped as it shattered against the back wall, glass flying everywhere. A piece of glass ricochets towards you, slicing a bit of your arm. You clench your arm, letting out a pained whine.

Sylus looks at you with pity, brushing off a few pieces of stray glass of himself.

"See, what did I say sweetie?"

While you were clutching your arm, Sylus suddenly rushed towards you, wasting no time to throw your thrashing body over his shoulder. It was time this little cat and mouse game ended.

"No! Let me go!" you yell, hitting his back like a spoiled child. He ignores you, planting you on the bed as gently as he could.

"The Hunter's Academy certainly taught you well" he sighed, placing one hand on your chest to hold you down. With his other hand, red mist shot through, grabbing something from across the room and planting itself in his grip. Your eyes widen as you realize what it was.

Metal handcuffs.

You sob as Sylus locked the handcuffs to the head board, pinning your arms above your head. You don't even get the chance to kick your legs again as he promptly sits on top of them, pinning you further.

A tired sigh escapes his lips as he buries his face into you neck, planting soft kisses in various spots. The tears begin to pour out faster now, and unable to wipe them, you blink your eyes to try and clear your vision.

"Don't cry." Sylus murmurs gently, sitting up a bit to wipe your tears. "I promise I'll try my best to not hurt you."

Rather than bring you comfort, this only enrages you, making you sob even louder. At the very least when he had been inside you the first few times, you had been drugged out of your mind and couldn't process pain anyways. But now you have to be alert, feeling every thrust and stretch.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Sylus unbuckling his belt. You shut your eyes, not wanting to witness such a vulgar scene. You feel his weight shift off you slightly as he pulls his belt off, and shuffles with his underwear. You feel cold hands reach under the nightgown he had provided you, curling his fingers around the hem of your panties.

"Please..." you beg, eyes still closed tightly as he pulls your panties down over your hips. You press your lower half into the mattress to try and prevent him from getting them off but it was futile. He wrestled them off and you hear a soft noise as they hit the floor.

"Are you intending to keep your eyes closed the entire time?" Sylus asks, pushing up your nightgown before leaning over you. You feel the cold air of the room reach your now bare cunt and you shiver. You feel his hungry presence above you, but you still don't open your eyes.

"Don't you want to see what's going inside you, kitten?"

You stiffen, unable to tell if he's making fun of you or being sincere. Cold hands grip the sides of your face and squeeze lightly. You then feel warm and slightly wet flesh touch your trembling lips. The smell of soap and skin overwhelm your senses and while it didn't smell bad, just the mere fact that it was his scent was making you want to vomit.

Unable to take it anymore, you open your eyes, feeling the air leave your lungs as you take in the sight of his flesh. His pants are still on, but he's taken his cock out of his underwear. You had prayed that his cock was at least small but it was anything but that. It was long, girthy, and slightly red at the tip. It was throbbing, precum leaking at the tip. A drip of precum leaks from his member, landing directly on your lips.

Without thinking and as if by instinct, you lick your lips. You gasp a bit at the realization of what you've just done. A slightly salty taste dances on the tip of your tongue.

Sylus's eyes widen a bit in shock as he watches you, but his gaze is quickly replace by that of lust. He's quick to push the rest of his tip into your mouth, and you have no choice but to have it dance around your tounge. He shudders as your warm and cramped mouth embraces the head of his flesh. He hadn't explored your mouth at all yet, and while he certainly wouldn't be able to fit it all in there, what you were doing now felt perfect.

"Well well, I wasn't expecting you to be experienced..." he chuckles, huffing and groaning a bit as you continue to swirl your tongue around his tip. You weren't really, but you had seen enough of those kinds of videos to get an idea of what to do. Maybe you can get him to finish in your mouth instead of your womb? As disgusting as the idea sounded, it was definitely the better option.

Seeming to read your mind, he pulls his tip out of your mouth, breathless for the first time that entire night. As much as he would've loved to let you keep doing what you were doing, he was also wary of you deciding to use your teeth as a weapon as well.

Your forced to watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, your lips forming in a tight line as you take in the upper half off his body. His chest and stomach look like they were sculpted by the gods themselves. You feel an unwelcome heat creep on your face, and your lower half disobeys too. A tight feeling of heat rises to your core, preparing your body for intrusion.

"Staring is rude y'know..." Sylus laughs, a smug grin creeping on his face. Your about to open your mouth to curse him when you feel the tip of his cock lining up with your entrance. You try to jerk back but he firmly holds you in place. Holding your waist down with one hand while his other held his cock that was busy pushing inside you.

"Stop..."

You gasp and tense as he manages to push his head inside you. You scream, beginning to thrash again but he doesn't stop, instead ignoring you and continuing to push. He has his eyes slight closed, clearly overwhelmed with pleasure even as you squirm beneath him in pain.

"Be more like your body sweetie" he whispers, momentarily pulling his cock back so he can push into you even further. You cry out from the deep intrusion, tears swelling in your eyes again. "It knows what it wants...". You had never been so wet for him, even drugged. It felt heavenly. All his sense were being flooded by you with every inch he pushed inside and he had to hold himself back from pushing the rest in hastily.

"I can't help how my body reacts!" you cry in frustration, squirming even harder before. Your lower half feels like its on fire, and the rest of your body has begun to heat up as well. The pain is intense, as you'd never had anything this big up there before.

"Mmm.....stop moving so much" he groaned, tightening his grip on you. You momentarily freeze at the sudden increase in tightness on your waist.

"You don't want me to cum and yet your about to squeeze my cock off..." he laughs, tapping the side of your waist.

"Relax, kitten. It won't hurt for long."

Certainly not wanting him to cum faster, you try your best to relax. Its only when you do that he's able to slip inside you all the way with relative ease. As soon as his tip hits the end of your womb you whine, a hot and twisted feeling enveloping your lower half. You feel disgusted with yourself, and yet you're unable to stop filling Sylus's ear with your sweet sounds.

"Hgnh...stop..." you moaned, panting like a dog in heat at this point.

Sylus moved his other hand that was previously occupied with the task of holding his cock, to the roundness of your ass. He squeezed, hard, eliciting even more beautiful sounds from you as he pistoned his cock into you harder and harder each time.

With each thrust of his hips, it was getting harder and harder to hold back your moans. It seemed he had already mapped out the locations of your sweet spots and was purposefully ramming his tip into them. And when you suddenly clung to him, practically drawing blood from his back he knew.

He knew he had won.

"You're, ha ,doing so well sweetie" he said through breathy moans, feeling your cunt suddenly tighten around him. Your end was near and he could tell by the way your eyes flew open in horror. He was mocking you, for you were certainly not trying to do well.

Dont cum.

Don't cum!

You shut your eyes and kept chanting, for you knew that if you came, he certainly would. But at this point it was impossible with this mans cock hitting every single of of your sweet spots as if following a map.

Evidence of your excitement leaked through the tightly pressed gap between the two of you, and it overflowed.

"Just let, ugh, let go kitten" he groaned in your ear, suddenly switching his strategy of attack. He grasped both of your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. With this new angle, you felt him in deep, sharp ways that you didn't think were even possible.

Sylus was certainly not holding back. Indeed, the man’s reaction changed as you sensed your limits. His breathing became faster and irregular, the movements of his hips intensified, and his engorged cock forcefully opened your inner walls.

You clenched him even harder, feeling the peak of your high about to overflow. It wasn't until Sylus did the unexpected, that you reached your climax. He leaned down hastily, biting and sucking the hardened nubs of your breasts, and it was just the extra sensation you needed to finish.

"Mngh...Ah!"

You unwittingly clenched down on the mans cock, body shaking and trembling as you finally reach heaven. You panted, moaned and squeezed the life out of his flesh as if you wanted to devour it.

"Haa...thats my sweet girl, keep cumming sweetie"

Sylus, overwhelmed with the sensation of you squeezing him so virgously, knew he had reached his end too. He gripped the sides of your waist, quickly catching your mouth in a deep and sensual kiss as he thrusted into you hard, releasing his selfish desires as deep as they can go into your belly. Caught off guard by the kiss, you have no choice but to accept it as you finally come down from your own high.

You notice his rigorous movements cease slowly and became shallower. You stiffen as you feel something warm bury itself in your belly, moving and spreading itself around on your cervix.

"Did you just...did you..."

Sylus kisses you again, clearly satisfied. As your lips part, you let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"You ASSHOLE! You sick fucking-AHHH!" you scream, ignoring Sylus has he envelops you in another hug, your tears staining his face as he puts it against yours.

"Behave" he warns gently.

"NO! No! Get off of me!!"

You can't even hit him with your hands still cuffed above your head so you try to kick. Defeat washes over you as he pins you underneath him once more, ceasing your struggling. Your sobs ring through the room, intense feelings of disgust overwhelming you.

"Xavier...hic...Xavier..." you sob, wishing dearly that he would come bursting in through the door right now. Sylus's face darkens, and he leans in your ear as you continue to cry out the boy's name.

"Say his name in my presence again and I'll make sure to save a bullet with his name on it" he growls. You tense and whimper, the side of Sylus that had sliced open your arm now back, looming next to your ear.

"Oh-okay..." you whimper, fearing for your companions life. Sylus leans back up, moving some tear soaked hair out of your face. Despite the threat he just made, he seems happy. You watch as he removes a pillow from next to your head, positioning it under your hips.

"What are you doing...?"

"Doctor said not to move much after, and to keep your hips up" he says nonchalantly, moving your nightgown back down so you weren't cold. Shuffles off the bed, wiping the end of his dick with his shirt before standing up to retrieve something next to the bed.

"Rope..?" you whisper, watching in fear but helpless to do anything. At this point you know struggling is useless. He takes each ends of the rope and ties your ankles, fastening them to the poles at the end of the bed. He shoves an extra pillow under you for good measure that your hips will remain up.

"How long do I have to be like this?" you sniffle through your tears, shuffling your body against the uncomfortable restraints. Sylus peers down at your shaken form, clearly thinking.

"One night should do. Though its always "night" here. So until you sleep and wake up"

"How am I supposed to sleep like this??" you exclaim, staring at him in disbelief. He reaches for the bed comforter, pulling it over your body. While it did feel nice to finally escape the cool air of the room, it did little to comfort you.

"Just try please. I'm going to shower" he says nonchalantly, giving you a small kiss on your head before beginning to walk towards the bathroom. You watch him disappear into the bathroom, the sound of rushing water coming after.

You should try and sleep. Even if its just to escape the reality of your situation. You tried for all of the twenty minutes he was gone but it didn't come. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you look towards the bathroom just as he walked out, towel around his waist. He notices your open eyes looking at him and smirks.

"Sleep, kitten."

"I can't... my head hurts," you grumble, memories of the headbutt resurfacing. "I think it hurt me more than it hurt you..."

Sylus chuckles knowingly at your words as he pulls a robe from his wardrobe. When he reaches for the towel around his waist, you quickly avert your eyes, not wanting to watch him dress. Only when you hear him sit down do you glance back. He’s now absorbed in several files he’s laid out in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

"Work. Close your eyes now, sweetie," he replies without looking up, flipping to another page. With nothing else to do, you angrily shut your eyes, trying to sleep. Your body and mind are exhausted, but you can't seem to turn off your brain. Frustrated, you shoot your eyes open and glare at your captor, who reads on as if nothing else in the world matters.

"I hate you. I'll kill you," you say bluntly, turning your head away. You then hear a sigh, the rustle of a file closing, and footsteps approaching.

You don't care what punishment he might bring; at least you spoke the truth. But no punishment comes. Instead, Sylus simply lies down next to you, his warm body driving away the cold beneath the blanket. You consider squirming away but remember your limbs are tied. He snuggles closer, wrapping his arm around you.

Is he... trying to lull me to sleep?

You want to curse him, to hurl insults—so many things. But you can't deny that the warmth radiating from his body is indeed slowly lulling you to sleep. He starts stroking your hair, noticing how your eyes begin to droop and your breaths become more relaxed. Your eyes get heavier and heavier, eventually shutting completely. You're vaguely aware of him planting small kisses on your head, before succumbing completely to your dreams.

Sylus chuckles as he watches you drift into a deep slumber. He observes the gentle rise and fall of your chest, your lips slightly parted. After about ten minutes, you start muttering incoherent words. Sylus can't help but laugh at the thought that you might be dreaming about him, especially as your face contorts into a scowl. He tightens his embrace lovingly, and to his surprise, you nuzzle your face into his neck.

He loves it, even if it's only in your sleep. He studies this version of you, determined to preserve it in his memory forever. He's not the bad guy—no, he's simply doing what needs to be done. He reaches down to touch your belly, caressing it tenderly as he daydreams about the big, happy family you'll be giving him. He's waited for this all his life, to finally be surrounded in love and happiness. But most importantly...

Sylus had conquered you. Taken you and made you his. Only a few more repeated "sessions" and he would for sure plant his child in your womb, if he hadn't already done so. He didn't care if you hated him, you could hate him for the rest of your life. As long as you were by his side none of it mattered.

He certainly can't let you go now.

"I love you..." he whispered lovingly, the first confession he had ever muttered flowing into your ear.

In the distance, beyond the shadowed streets of N109, within the safe and bustling heart of Linkon City, a man with ashy-blonde hair moved quietly through your apartment, his steps deliberate and searching. The police had already swept through the place, their investigation brief and inconclusive, but Xavier wasn’t satisfied. Weeks had passed since you disappeared, and with each passing day, his concern had deepened into something far more urgent.

At first, he had tried to convince himself that you were simply avoiding him after his hasty confession of feelings—a confession that had left him vulnerable and exposed. But as the days dragged on, that explanation seemed less and less likely. You stopped showing up to work, ignored calls from everyone who tried to reach you, and left no trace of where you might have gone. Eventually, his worry overcame his sense of propriety, and he forced his way into your apartment, driven by a gnawing fear that something terrible had happened to you.

The moment he stepped inside, a chill ran down his spine. The apartment was eerily quiet, the air thick with a sense of abandonment. Only a few of your belongings were packed, haphazardly tossed into a bag as if you had left in a hurry. On the fridge, a note was pinned, claiming that you had gone to explore the country.

But Xavier knew your handwriting, and this wasn’t it.

His heart pounded as he pulled the now-crumpled note from his pocket, holding it up to the sunlight streaming through the window. The paper was cheap, the ink slightly smudged as if someone had written it quickly, with little care. This was his only clue, the only piece of evidence that hinted at what might have happened to you. He scanned the note again, hoping to find some hidden detail he had missed, but there was nothing. The words remained stubbornly cryptic, offering no real answers.

Frustration gnawed at him as he shoved the note back into his pocket. What else could he do but continue to search your place, retracing his steps in the hopes of uncovering something new? He moved through the apartment with a growing sense of desperation, his eyes scanning every corner, every crevice. The kitchen was spotless, devoid of any signs of recent use. The bedroom was neatly made, as if you had intended to return soon. But something was off—Xavier could feel it in the pit of his stomach.

Just as he was about to give up and leave, something caught his eye. Beneath the coffee table, partially hidden by the shadows, was a large, deep footprint pressed into the carpet. His breath caught in his throat as he crouched down to examine it more closely. The print was far too large to be yours, and the tread marks indicated that whoever had left it had been wearing heavy, durable shoes. This was no ordinary footprint—it was a clue, a tangible link to whoever had been in your apartment after you disappeared.

Xavier’s mind raced as he mentally cataloged the possibilities. The size and shape of the footprint suggested a man, likely tall and broad-shouldered. The depth of the print indicated weight, perhaps someone physically strong. It wouldn’t be difficult to track down the make and brand of the shoes that left this mark; Xavier had connections, resources at his disposal that most people didn’t. This was the break he had been waiting for, the first real lead in a case that had grown cold far too quickly.

A slow smile crept across his face as he stood up, determination hardening in his chest.

Bingo.

His Watchful Eye

Word Count: 4.7k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, tw vomit, sharp objects, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, drugged reader, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, ownership, Xavier appears for a bit

AN: Hi all! Im SOO excited to be writing this. Its refreshing to add to the lack of yandere fics for the boys! I’m unsure if I will make this multi chaptered but if there’s enough demand I won’t want to disappoint! PLEASE read the tags. This is not for everyone, and if your sensitive to the topics that show up then I would advise skipping this story because I did not hold back and it only gets worse from here! (*^ ‿ <*)♡

"Good girl, keep chewing. Don't bite your tongue" All you could mutter was a moan, unable to think straight in your drug hazed state. You managed to swallow. All you felt was warm heat radiating off of slightly pale flesh. You blushed and planted your face in his neck. Sylus put the spoon down, amused by your affection. Getting up from the sofa in the room, he laid you down on his bed. He began unbuckling his belt.

Read part 2 here!

When you finally stirred, the first sensation was a throbbing ache in your head, a dull, insistent pulse that seemed to echo through your entire body. Your eyelids felt heavy, as if weighed down by sand, but slowly, you forced them open. The room around you was dimly lit, unfamiliar, and smelled oddly of...alcohol? Shadows clung to the corners, obscuring details, but you could make out the rough texture of black walls and the faint scent bourbon.

Wait...black walls? Your walls were white...

Panic fluttered in your chest as you struggled to remember how you had ended up here, a place so alien that even the faintest memory refused to surface. The soft, yet unfamiliar mattress beneath you sunk with your weight you attempted to sit up quickly, a wave of dizziness threatening to pull you back into the darkness.

"Wha-where…?" you murmured, your voice barely a whisper as your vision remained clouded and unfocused. With a sense of rising unease, you stretched out your hand, groping blindly at the unfamiliar space around you. Timid fingers met the unmistakable feel of cold flesh and you flinched.

Then the flesh spoke.

"Handsy already? I'm a bit shocked" a gruff voice spoke, sounding on the verge of laughter.

You screamed, your hunter training kicking in as you scrambled to leap off the bed and away from the unfamiliar man laying next to you. Your attempt to put distance between the two of you was in vain though, as he quickly yet calmy subdued you. Your world whipped around as you were manhandled beneath a tall and broad man, both of his hands pinning your arms to your sides. You cry obscenities as you squirm under him, tears beginning to pour down your face as you try to figure out the best way to talk-no fight your way out of this.

"Wait...who are you?! Please stop, I'll do anything just let me go!" you screamed, attempting to land another kick at his stomach. This time however, he was prepared. A cold red mist snaked around your leg, freezing it in midair, only to then wrap it firmly in place to the other leg.

"Shh shh, calm down. No need to yell sweetie" he said calmly, as if he was comforting a lost animal. He ran a long cold finger over your face, wiping away a section of tears as you hyperventilate.

"You're safe now. No one and nothing is going to hurt you anymore"

What the fuck is going on?!

You can hardly process his words, much less your own thoughts. Although slightly panicking still, being in your current position gave you a very great view of the mans face above you. He had stern features, a sharp jawline, white hair with grey undertones. But most unnerving of all were his eyes. They were blood red, piercing even. You felt yourself shivering under his gaze.

Is he some kind of monster??

"I-im not supposed to be here sir. I think there's been some kind of mistake or-" you trail off, unsure of what you were going to say next. Clearly there's been some sort of mix up? Sure, you had plenty of people that wanted to kidnap you for your Aether core, but you highly doubt they would be wiping your tears in such a lovingly way as he was doing right now.

"I don't tend to make mistakes sweetie" he calmly replied, cocking his head to the side and giving a slight smile. "I know this is all very sudden, but just trust that you're safe here. Where you belong..."

"Where I-what???" you gasp, breathless at the strange mans words. You attempt to struggle again but to no avail, he has you trapped. Bubbling panic and nausea rise to your core, and you begin to dry heave.

"Im gonna vomit..." you exclaim dizzily, turning your gaze away from the man. He wastes no time getting off of you and helping you up, gently guiding your shaking figure in an unfamiliar direction. Its only when your feet meet cold tile that you realize that not only are you not wearing shoes or socks, but that you're in a huge black tiled bathroom.

However you have no time to take in the details as your eyes meet the sight of a toilet. As if on cue your body does one last dry heave before bile makes its way to your throat. You practically throw yourself onto the toilet mere seconds before your stomachs contents upheaves itself out of your mouth. You clutch it and empty the bitter contents into the toilet for a few short moments, giving a sigh of relief as you finish. With tear stained eyes, you realize your captor hadn't left your side, instead having taken the liberty to rub your back.

"Unfortunately the side affects of the drug couldn't be avoided" he muttered, a slight look of guilt washing over his face. "Come lay back down, you should rest"

"Don't touch me!" you growled, elbowing him in the face as you scrambled to get on your feet to run. He was quick to grab your waist, causing you to tumble down to the floor again with force. Your knees hit the tile and you wince in agony as sharp throbs of pain explode in your knees.

"Ah ah, none of that" the man scolded, quickly lifting your squirming body off the ground with ease. You clawed and kicked at his figure but he barely reacted as he dragged you out of the bathroom and back into what could only be assumed to be his bedroom. Despite your incessant thrashing you were placed on the bed again, sobbing and whining at your dismay.

You lay there dumbfounded, out of breath while he stood there seemingly unaffected. He reaches out a hand towards you, earning a yelp from your throat as you coiled away from him. He ignores this however, placing a few fingers against your forehead. Was he...checking your temp?

"I'll get you an icepack, you're burning up"

It was only a second that he had turned away before you once again leaped out of bed (successfully this time), and dashed for the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. Your eyes lay onto the metal handle and you reach for it, only to be swept off your feet in an instant. A familiar cold red mist envelops your entire body, leaving you weightless in the air. You screamed at the sudden shift in your body's gravity as your captor stood there with his arms crossed.

"I didn't realize you were such a feisty one, kitten" he chuckled. Helplessly your dragged closer and closer until your planted right into his arms. He envelops you, red mist disappearing and instead being replaced by a tight hold on your body. He moves a hand to the back of your head, hushing your tired sobs as he holds your body.

"No need to be running off, you're sick sweetie" his previous smug tone replaced with a gentle one. "Lay down, I won't ask again"

He said this without malice and yet, the hair on your neck stands up. Maybe it was the sudden shift in energy in the room, but all you could do was slowly nod in his embrace. Perhaps, it was better this way. You get the feeling that you shouldn't keep testing him. Yes, when the right moment struck, you could make a run for it?

Right?

He releases his hold on you, and with watchful eyes he guides you to lay down. As you lay on the soft comforter, sobs begin erupting from your mouth once more. What does he want? What is this place?

You want to go home.

"Please sir..hic..,I want to...hic...go home..."you cry, defeatedly sighing in the pillow. It smelled sharp, like men's cologne.

"You can drop the formalities" he sighs, pulling the comforter over your shivering body. "It's Sylus, sweetie."

Sylus.

Why did it sound so unfamiliar yet a creeping sense of familiarity was tingling in your head?

"I have work. I cant miss wor-"

"Im aware of your duties in Linkon. But fret not, you won't have to worry about being the Hunter Association's lacky any longer" he hummed, reaching down to stroke a few strands of your hair. You didn't react to his touch this time, your mind too busy pondering his words, frightfully imagining scenarios of actually being trapped here with him. You pinched yourself hard, desperately hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

Reality.

It was hitting you hard and fast.

Sylus wasn't exactly the type of man to have time to have relationships. His life was far too fast and demanding. And even if he did have the time, no doubt that as soon as word got out that he had someone he cared about, they would be snatched and held for ransom, probably killed in the process. So he had resigned himself to this life full of nonstop head swiveling and danger. The only people he could ever trust with absolute certainty was his henchmen, Luke and Kieran.

Ah, Mephisto as well. Though he was his own creation. Why wouldn't he be able to trust him? He was skillfully programmed, the bird couldn't tell a lie even if he tried. But despite having his own man mad companion (Mephisto hated being called a pet) Sylus still felt a certain longing. Even someone as cold and hardened as him couldn't escape it. He actually hadn't given it much thought until he was grazing through Mephisto's footage one day.

A man that had sold him a subpar protocore was hiding from him. Sylus had known from the start but sometimes he liked to play little games with his prey. He wanted to see if the man actually had the guts to lie to the leader of Onychinus. And lo and behold. Sylus could barely hold back a grin when shaking the man's hand to seal the deal, who was wistfully unaware of the torment to come his way in the next few days.

He would pay back the "stolen" money in blood.

So while he had Mephisto tracking the mans every move, eyeing his every turn and twist. He had happened to catch a glimpse of a girl his victim had bumped into by accident in Linkon. She was extremely apologetic, helping pick up the scattered belongings he had dropped. Sylus leaned in close, trying to get a better look at the woman. She scrambled the belongings in her arms and sheepishly handed the stuff back to the glaring man, who had not even said a word to her. It wasn't until she smiled sheepishly at him that Sylus froze.

This feeling.

He couldn't exactly place it but it was foreign. But what he did know how to do, was gather information. He quickly directed Mephisto to follow his new "target".

He would deal with that man later. This girl, this random, insignificant girl had caught his attention. And he would figure out why. He was very good at problem solving. This issue would be over soon. She was just another average Linkon citizen after all, she couldn't be that interesting. He would get bored soon.

He watched as the man spat vulgarities at her, quickly rushing past her as soon as his belongings were returned. She gave a defeated sigh as she continued walking. He noted the uniform she was wearing, the puzzle pieces clicking in his head she approached a tall window filled building.

"A hunter?" he questioned, leaning forward a bit to see the screen better. "Mephisto, zoom in please".

Doing as the bird was told, he zoomed in on the woman, her badge coming into clear view. Just as he thought, she was part of the infamous Hunter's Association. It didn't take long to pull the name from her badge and pull up every single piece of information he could find in the "deep web" database.

Relatively new to the association but already on one of the best divisions. Impressive. Maybe she was no "ordinary" girl after all. Since he couldn't send Mephisto into the building, he entertained himself reading up on her, finding out everything he could find about her. Medical records, previous addresses, socials, etc.

Mephisto signaled to him that she had left the building and he promptly turned his attention to his camera again. She walked out with a slightly bubbly, shorter haired girl. The pair were deeply engrossed in conversation before an ashy blonde fellow joined them and touched the girls arm.

Sylus froze. Who was this? And why was he touching her with such ease and tenderness? Mephisto, as if reading his mind, zoomed in. The man was only a bit taller than her, and a somewhat leanish build. Sylus watched him interact with the girl intensely, he wasn't sure why but he felt the hairs on his neck stand stiffen when the man made contact. His blue gaze was soft and inviting and she seemed to be reciprocating well.

Sylus watched as they both bid farewell to the other short haired girl, making their way towards the subway station. They were both going in the same direction?

This was once confirmed once they both got off at the same stop, walking the same path towards a set of shiny apartment buildings. She laughed at something the man said, and touched his shoulder tenderly.

Sylus felt his stomach churn. He wasn't sure why but seeing her this close to this soft gazed man was eliciting dangerous urges in him. The pair both went up the stairs, and out of his view.

It didn't matter. He would find your apartment number with ease. Even if it meant having Mephisto perched on the same tree branch for days. Sylus questioned his sanity for just a bit. Was he really getting this worked up over a woman he had simply happened to glance at? He closed his eyes before chuckling.

Yeah. This wasn't normal, no. But nothing about Sylus was ever normal anyways. Why would this be any different?

And so the following weeks were spent on nothing but you. He'd eventually mustered the courage to see you in person (at a distance of course) and watch you a few feet away. Your voice was even more beautiful in person. And the sounds you would make when trying new sweets illicited very...intense reactions in his lower groin. He watched you and your female coworker eating sweets at a bakery. You moaned in delight as you chewed a frosting covered pastry, a bit of the white frosting dribbling down your chin. You and your friend giggled as you wiped it up, all the while Sylus felt like he was about to burst in public.

How could a scene so innocent get him going so much?

"Oh! I have to go! I have a hair appointment! Bye Tara!"

You hurriedly hugged the girl before licking your fingers and sprinting off. Sylus quickly and quietly followed behind.

Eventually, he would find his way into your apartment when he knew you were out on missions. Not to do anything creepy, but to get a more personal look into your life. That didn't stop him rummaging through your clothes however. Your taste was just what he was expecting based on your socials. He would take mental note of it before putting everything back the way it was. It was taking a toll on him. The more he spent thinking about you and peeking through your things, the more he longed for you.

There was no way he could court you in the traditional way though. It was far too dangerous. The second word went around that he had someone special, someone with an Aether Core at that...it would be over. His love would be killed, or worse, kidnapped and taken. Tortured more than likely.

The fact that you even had one made him fall even more quickly in love. You both were clearly meant to be. Two halves yet to be connected. Was this fate? Or mere delusion? He didn't care anymore. He would have you, even if it took drastic measure. You would have to remain oblivious to all of this, to him until the time was right.

That's what he thought until, you had seen him lurking behind you in the grocery store. He had adverted his gaze but it was far too late. He had gotten too close. You approached him, making his heart rate excel. Still, he kept a calm gaze.

"Are you following me?" you spat, eyeing him up and down. He simply laughed, which caught you off guard.

"I'm merely going in the same direction" he calmly said, rubbing his fingers together. "I guess that's all it takes to catch a stalking charge these days?"

You blinked a few times before sheepishly smiling. "Ah, I'm sorry...I'm a bit jumpy these days..." you laughed and extended your hand before introducing yourself.

I already know your name. He wanted to say but he stopped himself.

"Sylus" he quickly said, shaking your hand back. Your touch felt like fire in the freezer department of the grocery store.

He was in heaven. Him, someone who was far from human and closer to the devil himself was experiencing bliss. He wasn't even sure why he told you his real name. Maybe a part of him wanted you to know and accept the real him.

"Well Mr. Stalker, I have to be off. Have a good day, sorry again" you sheepishly joked, bowing a bit before grabbing your cart to leave. He almost reached out and grabbed you, longing for you not to leave.

Soon, he thought. He just needed a little longer for some preparations first. Soundproofing, a little,more security, tools...etc.

But once again, it seems that time wasn't on his side. One night while keeping Mephisto at a distance to watch your apartment, you and the ashy blonde boy had walked down the stairs together and stopped to chat. Immediately on edge, he ordered Mephisto to zoom in.

"Xavier shouldn't you be asleep at this time? Why are we getting food at a time like this?"

"I didn't get to eat today. Besides, I know you didn't either. Makes sense to go together right?" he said, a slight smile appearing on his face. Sylus felt that eerily similar feeling of disgust settle in his stomach.

"Yes but...what were you wanting to tell me? Certainly you don't have to drag me all the way out to a convivence store to do so right?" you giggled, fixing the zipper on your jacket.

"Just two stops. Food, and then the park. Then I'll tell you. Deal?"

"So mysterious as always..." you sighed, a small smile appearing.

Sylus was no idiot. He knew what this was. A ploy to get the girl to a secluded place and do god knows what. He clenched his hand in a fist, a glare washing over his gaze. It was time. Whether he wanted it to be or not.

"Luke, Kieran" he called out, standing up to put his own coat on. "Prepare those items I requested."

Now or nothing.

And that's how you ended up here. After your little rendezvous with Xavier, you had giddy come back to your apartment like a teenager in love. That's when the twins had ambushed you, forcing two little white pills down your throat much to your dismay. They (carefully) by Sylus's instruction, had taken your phone and other belongings to make it look like you had packed up and left. No one, not even Xavier had an inkling that unconscious you was being loading into a black car and whisked away to the N109 Zone.

And here you are now, thrashing, screaming insults and vulgar names in his bed. Nearly a week had passed and you still hadn't calmed down. You wouldn't eat either, refusing any and all attempts at food. When you were exhausted from screaming and thrashing, you would wake up sometimes as early as 7 am and attempt to open windows and the door much to Sylus's dismay.

You were like a scared cat in a corner, hissing and swiping her claws when she got the chance. And its not like Sylus hadn't tried to tame you. He certainly had been trying to comfort you, hold you and even spoon feed you himself.

All you would do is scream and hit him. Beg for freedom, beg for release. It hurt him. He could give you anything and you were begging for the one thing he couldn't afford to give you.

Freedom.

You started to shrink in your clothes naturally. Sure you would take a few bites here and there to satiate the primal need for food but it wasn't enough. You grew weaker and weaker and he couldn't take it anymore.

He started sneaking Rohypnol into your water. A date rape drug, yes but it was so effective. You went from a defiant and screaming girl to a giggly and obedient kitten for him. He'd spoon feed you while you sat dissociating in his lap.

"Good girl, keep chewing. Don't bite your tongue"

All you could mutter was a moan, unable to think straight in your drug hazed state. You managed to swallow. All you felt was warm heat radiating off of slightly pale flesh. You blushed and planted your face in his neck.

Sylus put the spoon down, amused by your affection. Getting up from the sofa in the room, he laid you down on his bed.

He began unbuckling his belt.

There was one more effect of the drug that was the most important to him. It wasn't considered a date rape drug for nothing. It rendered you completely helpless to his advances. You wouldn't fight him, just blush and moan when he touched you. When he pushed his long dexterous fingers in your pulsing cunt, you would squeal and whine. When he inevitably would climb on top of you, pushing his cock inside your tight walls, you would grab him already nearing a climax.

He wasn't a monster. Or at least that's what he was telling himself. He wasn't doing this for pleasure but with purpose. He looked down at your pleasure stricken face, listening to your mewls as if it were a choir singing. He pushed himself deeper in you, overcome with insatiable lust. His pace only kept getting more rigorous as he neared his end.

He wanted a baby.

He wanted a baby in your womb.

His baby.

He craved normalcy. Even if it meant things had to be a little rough right now, but this was for your own good. You'd be so happy and obedient with his seed planted in your womb. A baby growing, tits swelling, stomach so big you can't see your own feet. That's what he wanted for you. For the both of you.

He gripped your waist as he plunged himself into you for the final time, white hot seed painting your insides a creamy white. You writhed underneath him, clearly coming to your own end. Your walls tightened over his still hard cock and he groaned.

He can't let you leave the bed until your pregnant.

It wasn't working though. Almost daily pregnancy tests yielded no results. You were starting to wise up to his antics it seems as well. He had been cleaning you up well so you were none the wiser when you slept off your drug hazed state. But you were smarter than you looked.

"Can I have bottled water?"

Sylus freezes, the half full glass in his hand. "Why? I'm holding a glass right here"

"The tap water tastes weird..." You lied, forcing a grin. "I want bottled water now". Sylus rubbed his fingers to his forehead and sighed.

"I can guarantee the tap water here is the purest you can find, it shouldn't taste weird"

You both made eye contact and you glared at him. Something was off with that water. The way he was so insistent for you to drink it made you nervous. And the way you couldn't remember a lot of your nights here was off. An aching feeling between your legs and a headache was all that remained. You had a feeling and it wasn't good.

"No thanks" you said plainly. "You've probably put something in it to kill me"

Sylus couldn't help but scoff. This girl and her ridiculousness.

"Why would I go through all the trouble of bringing you here just to kill you? Don't be ridiculous sweetie" he laughed, pushing the glass further into her face.

"Drink it".

"No".

Sylus's gaze darkened. He was a man of patience yes, but this girl just kept testing and testing. Who gave her the right? He does everything for her and yet she wont even drink a glass of water? He let out an uneven sigh, his patience fading.

"Kitten, last time I'm asking" he warned, pushing the glass in her face once more.

"I said..." she starts, taking the glass from his hand much to his relief. But the look in her face changes to contempt to angry, and in one fluid motion she's flung the glass in his direction. He dodges it, but not by much. Water clings to his shirt and glass shatters on the floor.

"Don't call me that" she finishes, a smug look adorning her face. She's won. Or so she thought. Sylus flashes a quick angry glare before quickly going back to an expressionless state.

?

"Maybe I've been too nice to you" Sylus says plainly, his words bleeding obvious malice. You freeze, realizing you weren't going to get away with an outburst today.

"Wait...Im sorry" you say shakily, beginning to lean down to pick up the glass. "I'll clean it up Im so so-"

He grabs your arm and yanks you roughly back to your feet. You scream, the birth control implant bulging to the surface in your arm where he grabbed.

"Don't bother" he growls.

"Ow! My birth control!" you scream, tugging at his hand. He freezes, a confused look washing over him. He lets go of his grip and examines your arm, poking around it. Sure enough, a hard line appeared on the girls arm. It all made sense now. Of course his seed wasn't taking.

"You didn't tell me about this. No wonder it wasn't working" he muttered.

"What? What wasn't working???" you exclaim, trying to yank your arm away. He held on though, staring intently at your implant. You can't tell what he was thinking and it was making you nervous.

"This needs to come out"

"No no no no" you shiver, pleading with him. "Its fine! Its probably expiring soon anyways I think!". Barely processing the fact that Sylus desires you to carry his child, you fear for your life and body.

Sylus doesn't respond, instead looking up to meet your eyes. As he stared at your scared expression he sighed. You had been making things very difficult for him. He just wanted to love you, spoil you, fuck you full of his cum.

All you had to do was sit around looking pretty and bare his children and you would have everything you could ever wish for. Was that so hard? Now there was this obstacle and it was ruining everything.

He saw red. He knew what needed to be done.

"S-sylus?"

He calmly looked down at the floor of scattered glass and settled on the biggest piece. Your eyes widened in horror and you tried with every ounce of strength possible to get out of his grip.

"Sylus!!! Please!! I can get it removed! Don't-"

Your cries are muffled by some kind of cloth he produced from his pocket as he backs you against the bed. You fall back first against the plush mattress, but before you can get any footing to get back up his on top of you. Your muffled screams can be heard despite the cloth as his evol snakes to hold you and your arm firmly in place.

He leans down over your petrified form, examining the piece of glass in his hands. After giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. He takes the sharp tip of the glass and press it slightly but firmly underneath the skin where your implant lies.

"Im doing this for us. Be still sweetie"

You scream.

He cuts.

His Watchful Eye Pt. 5

Word Count: 11.6k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, kidnapping, syringes, hitting, bloodshed, attempted rape, lots of blood, sylus goes a tad bit crazy, pet names like kitten, sweetie, doll, little mouse, stalking,

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel

AN: I decided to make this chapters theme red since it fits the bloodiness of this chapter. This is on A03 as well! Also YALL I'm so sorry, apparently my taglist hasn't been tagging people correctly. It should be fixed now! I’ll go back and fix it on the other lists as well!! Per usual, heed the warnings and enjoy! Next chapter is definitely going to have lots of smut, I’m already writing it 😌

"Your tears, your pain, your misery," Sylus whispers, his voice dripping with a dark intimacy as his hand moves gently to your face. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away a tear that hasn’t yet fallen, his touch both tender and terrifying. "It all belongs to me."

“I am the only one who gets to see you cry”

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

The darkness had swallowed you whole. When you blink your eyes open, the world is a blur, as though you’re caught between waking and a nightmare. Cold, sharp and biting, is the first thing you feel, seeping into your skin from the damp concrete beneath you. Your nightgown is soaked, sticking to your body, the freezing water from the shower still dripping slowly from the showerhead, an eerie rhythm to the otherwise oppressive silence.

It takes a moment before the memories resurface, and when they do, they crash over you like a wave. The basement. Reese. The other man. The betrayal. Your heart clenches painfully as you recall the way Reese had looked at you when he led you here, his guilt ridden face made you scowl.

How dare he have a conscious when he had led you to your very demise? You had trusted him. Told him about your kidnapping, your escape. He had listened with kind eyes, nodding in all the right places, making you believe he was different—that he was your salvation in a world that had turned cruel. He had seemed so genuine, offering you a place to stay, a promise of safety. But now, that memory feels like poison, a twisted mockery of the trust you had so willingly given him.

How could you have been so naive?

You groan as you try to sit yourself upright, every muscle in your body protesting with sharp pain. The cold has seeped so deeply into your bones that it feels like your limbs are made of lead, heavy and uncooperative. Your fingers dig into the rough concrete as you push against it, your nightgown clinging to your skin, wet and miserable.

Your head spins, the pounding ache a reminder of everything you’ve been through, but you grit your teeth and force yourself to move. Lying there, helpless, isn’t an option. Not anymore.

Each breath is a struggle, shallow and ragged, as you steady yourself against the wall behind you. The dampness of the basement, the steady drip of water in the corner, the faint musty scent of decay—it all feels suffocating, as though the walls are closing in. You blink hard, trying to focus, to ground yourself in the moment, but the betrayal still burns in your mind, cutting deeper than any physical wound.

Reese's face flashes before your eyes again, his soft voice promising safety, and you can’t help but let out a bitter laugh, though it quickly dissolves into a shaky exhale. Safety. What a cruel joke.

You had simply traded one prison for a colder, darker one.

You look around the basement, squinting in the dim light. Your legs ache as you try to move them, pins and needles shooting through your feet as you attempt to stand. Your body feels battered, but the deeper pain—the one rooted in the betrayal—hurts far worse. Reese wasn’t some random passerby, some kind stranger. He knew what he was doing, and worse, he had listened to your story of suffering and seen you as an opportunity to fulfill some promise.

As you lean against the wall, trying to steady your shaky breath, Reese’s words echo in your mind, gnawing at your already fragile sense of reality.

“I promised them a girl.”

The phrase rattles around in your skull, unsettling and cryptic. What did he mean by that? Who was them?

Your stomach turns, the bile rising in your throat as you replay the memory over and over. Reese had said it shakily, his voice trembling, his eyes wide with barely concealed fear. But his words were soaked in something far darker, something that made your skin crawl the moment they left his lips.

Promised them a girl.

The weight of it sinks in deeper, heavier with each passing moment, like a noose tightening around your neck.

Your hands curl into fists, nails digging sharply into your palms as you struggle to suppress the rising wave of nausea and panic. Every breath feels like a battle, the air thick with dread. You want answers—need answers—but more than anything, you need to get out of here. Every second you spend trapped in this basement feels like a countdown ticking away to something far worse than anything your mind can conjure.

Whatever Reese had promised them, whatever twisted deal he’d made, you won’t let it come to pass. You won’t be some pawn in this dark, twisted game he's playing. You refuse to be reduced to a bargaining chip for them, whoever they are. They might have Reese tangled in their web, but they won’t have you.

Your eyes drift toward the dingy mattress settled on a metal frame, barely visible in the dim light. A tattered towel, a folded pair of sweatpants and a white shirt lie haphazardly on top of it. You hesitate for a moment, the sight catching you off guard. Did Reese leave these here for you?

The thought sends a wave of conflicting emotions through you—anger, confusion, even a twisted sense of pity. Despite everything, despite handing you over to whatever fate awaits, had he still tried to offer some small gesture of comfort? Or had this been planned, just part of the sick arrangement, a way to keep you alive long enough for them?

You shake the thought from your mind. It doesn’t matter.

The cold clings to you, a constant, suffocating presence in your wet nightgown. Your teeth are still chattering, your skin icy to the touch. Without thinking too much about it, you rush over to the mattress, snatching the towel and the sweatpants. The rough fabric of the towel is worn, but it's warm enough as you rub it over your chilled skin, drying the water that’s soaked through your night gown.

With shaking hands, you strip off your wet, heavy dress and quickly pull on the dry sweatpants and t shirt. The warmth is immediate, a small, fleeting relief that feels almost like a luxury in this basement. You wish they weren't so loose, but it’s better than nothing.

Your body is still cold, still trembling, but the damp heaviness has lessened. You feel lighter, a little less trapped by the elements, even if the air around you remains heavy with the weight of everything that has yet to happen.

Reese’s face flashes in your mind again, his nervous, guilt-ridden eyes, and you can’t help but wonder—was this his attempt at an apology? His way of making up for the unforgivable?

Abruptly, you hear it – footsteps above, faint but unmistakable. Your entire body tenses as you freeze in place, straining to listen. The whispers that follow are barely audible through the thick ceiling, but you can catch snippets of words, just enough to recognize one of the voices: Reese.

Your heart thuds against your ribcage as you make your way towards the metal hatch at the top of the stairs, every step agonizing from the cold and strain. You push through the pain, desperate for more information.

You press your ear against the frigid metal, the voices growing clearer yet still muffled. Reese's voice is shaky and filled with nervous energy, like when he made that dreadful promise to "them."

"She said she was kidnapped," Reese's voice trembles, sending a wave of chills down your spine.

A cold sweat breaks out across your skin. A lump forms in your throat as you strain to listen, your mind racing. You had trusted him with everything, thinking he would help. The other voice – deep and calculated – interrupts.

"By who?" he demands harshly.

"I don't know," Reese replies, panic evident in his voice. "She didn't give names…I didn't ask…I didn't think…"

"Idiot," the man hisses angrily, cutting off Reese's rambling. There's a moment of silence before heavy footsteps approach closer. Your heart pounds violently in your chest.

You hear something unmistakable—a faint scraping sound. Your blood runs cold as you slowly realize what’s happening.

The metal handle of the hatch begins to turn.

It’s a slow, deliberate movement, the iron grinding against itself with a low, ominous creak that makes your breath catch in your throat. Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening as you stare at the hatch, watching the handle twist further, the tension of the lock giving way with a soft, metallic click.

Panic floods through you as the realization hits like a punch to the gut—they’re about to open the hatch.

The handle continues to turn, and with a surge of panic, you pull away from the hatch. Your body moves before your mind can fully process, instincts kicking in. You scramble down the creaky wooden stairs, your legs protesting with every movement, but you push through the pain.

Each step feels like it takes an eternity, the sound of the hatch above grinding against your nerves. You reach the bottom, your breath ragged, and without a second thought, you make a desperate dive under the bed.

You scramble under the grimy mattress, your heart pounding as you press your body flat against the cold floor. The space beneath the bed is cramped, dark, and thick with dust, but you force yourself to stay still, biting back your panic. Your breathing comes in short, shaky bursts, but you try to control it, barely daring to inhale as you listen to the creak of the metal hatch swinging open.

The footsteps echo louder now, descending the wooden stairs, each step making your pulse race faster. You watch from your hiding place, the dim light casting shadows across the room as the first pair of feet—Reese's—comes into view. His sneakers shuffle nervously against the floor. Right behind him, heavier boots thud down the steps—boots that belong to someone much more imposing, someone far more dangerous.

You peek through the gloom, barely daring to lift your head.

Reese speaks first, his voice shaky. “I-I swear, I don’t know who kidnapped her. She just told me she was running, that she escaped. I didn’t ask for details.” There’s a tremor in his voice, thick with fear.

The other man’s voice is low, cold. “And you didn’t think to get more information? You were too busy playing hero.”

You didn't recognize this voice. He wasn't the one from earlier that had helped Reese bring you down here.

Reese mumbles something incoherent, but you can hear his terror. The other man clearly isn’t buying it. The booted footsteps hit the last step, and the man takes a slow, deliberate step into the basement.

You curl up tighter, heart racing, your body nearly paralyzed with fear as you catch sight of him. He’s taller than Reese, broader, with an intimidating presence that fills the room. His voice cuts through the tension. “Where is she, Reese? You promised us a girl. So, where is she?”

Reese stammers, his anxiety palpable. “She’s—she’s here, I swear, I locked the hatch. She couldn’t have gone anywhere.”

The man lets out a slow exhale, clearly unimpressed. “She better be. Otherwise, you’ll have hell to pay.”

You can feel the weight of the man’s presence shifting, scanning the room, and you shrink further into the darkness, praying that the shadows will keep you hidden. The dread mounts as the sound of their steps grows louder.

Your heart races, every muscle tense as the heavy boots come to a stop right beside the bed. You can feel the air shift, the man's presence looming dangerously above you. His shadow stretches over the mattress, and for a second, you think maybe—just maybe—he'll move on. Maybe he won't look under here.

But then, in one swift motion, he crouches down.

His eyes lock onto yours, blue and calculating, a cruel smile playing at the edges of his lips. Your stomach drops, panic surging through you like wildfire. You try to scramble backward, to escape deeper under the bed, but it's too late. His hand shoots out, iron-tight fingers wrapping around your ankle.

"No more hiding, little mouse," he growls, his voice thick with menace.

You kick and thrash, but he’s far too strong. With a brutal yank, he drags you out from under the bed, your nails scraping uselessly against the concrete floor as you try to find some kind of grip. Fear pulses through you, sharp and overwhelming, as you're pulled out into the open.

"Got her," the man says, his grip on your ankle tightening painfully. He hauls you upright, forcing you to stand even as your legs buckle beneath you.

Reese is standing off to the side, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with guilt and fear. He doesn’t say a word as the man forces you up, his cold fingers digging into your arm now, holding you in place.

The man looks you over, his smile fading as he studies you with dark, unreadable eyes. "This is her?" he says, glancing at Reese, his voice a mixture of disbelief and something far more dangerous.

Reese stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y-yes. I swear. She’s the one."

The man turns back to you, his expression hardening. "Good," he mutters darkly, tightening his grip on your arm until pain shoots through your shoulder.

You bit back a cry of pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction. The man's grip tightened further, his fingers digging into your flesh like steel talons. Your heart raced, pounding against your ribcage as you fought to keep your composure.

"Let. Me. Go." You hissed through clenched teeth, each word dripping with venom.

The man's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Feisty, are we? Hilarious. Won't last long though".

He released your arm abruptly, causing you to stumble. As you regained your footing, you noticed Reese had retreated to a corner, his face a mask of guilt and fear. The betrayal stung, but you pushed the feeling aside. There would be time for that later. Right now, survival was your only priority.

The men turned toward the metal hatch at the top of the stairs, drawn to the sound of heels clacking against the wooden steps. You tensed, every muscle in your body coiling with anticipation as another pair of legs appeared, descending with an air of confidence. A woman stepped into the basement, her dark hair swinging with each precise step, her sharp brown eyes surveying the room with calm, calculated detachment. She was dressed in a crisp, business-casual outfit, perfectly put together, every detail deliberate.

Her heels struck the floor with a final, authoritative click as she reached the bottom of the stairs, her gaze locking onto you immediately. There was no warmth in her eyes, no recognition of you as a person—only cold assessment, as though you were an object, a piece of inventory.

She didn’t speak right away, her expression unreadable as she glanced at the man beside you, then at Reese huddled in the corner. Her presence demanded attention, a silent command of the room that made your skin crawl.

“Is this the girl?” she asked at last, her voice smooth but carrying an edge of impatience.

The man nodded, his smirk never faltering. “She’s the one boss.”

The woman’s eyes swept over you again, lingering on you for a moment longer than before. You felt her gaze like ice, sharp and invasive, as if she could see through you, past your fear, right down to your core.

“She doesn’t look like much,” she remarked, almost casually, though there was a quiet menace in her tone. “But she’ll do hopefully.”

Your heart dropped, dread pooling in your stomach as her words hung in the air. Whatever Reese had gotten you into, it wasn’t just a betrayal—it was something far more dangerous. And now, you were caught in the middle of it.

Your mind raced as you tried to think of a way out, but the walls felt like they were closing in, your options shrinking with every second that passed. You had to do something—anything—before it was too late.

You certainly couldn't fight your way out of here. It was 3v1, and the days of little food and constant stress had weakened you significantly. Your limbs felt like lead, and any attempt to resist would be useless, not against these people—especially with the woman’s calculating gaze locked onto you.

"Wh-what is this?" you stammer, trying to sound calm, but the tremor in your voice betrays you. "What do you plan to do with me?"

The woman turned toward you, her expression cold, detached. She raised an eyebrow, as though mildly amused by your question, but there was no kindness in her eyes—only a chilling indifference.

“Does it really matter?” she replied, her voice smooth but laced with cruelty. She stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor with each deliberate step, her presence looming over you. “You’re not in a position to negotiate or ask questions, are you?”

You felt your pulse race, panic swelling in your chest. You tried to stand straighter, to show some semblance of strength, but your body betrayed you, trembling from exhaustion and fear.

The man who had grabbed you before let out a low chuckle. “She’s already scared. Good. Makes things easier.”

Reese, from his corner, shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your eyes as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. The guilt was written all over his face, but he said nothing, didn’t even try to stop what was happening. He had already played his part in this nightmare.

The woman tilted her head, her gaze unwavering. “You’ve been promised to someone very important, and it’s best if you cooperate. Things will be... easier for you.”

Your stomach dropped at the implications of her words. Promised? You were no longer just a person—you were a transaction.

Your mouth went dry as you forced the question past your lips, your voice shaky. "Promised for what?" You had to know. Every terrible possibility ran through your mind, but the uncertainty gnawed at you even more.

The woman paused, a brief flicker of something—pity, maybe?—crossing her face. She sighed softly, like she was indulging a child who didn’t know better. “I guess it couldn’t hurt for you to know,” she said, her tone almost bored. “Won’t make much difference in the end.”

She stepped closer, crouching down so she was eye-level with you. Her gaze softened slightly, but the words that followed made your blood run cold.

“You’ve been promised to a very wealthy man,” she began, her voice calm, detached. “His wife...she’s dying. Organ failure. They’ve tried everything—medications, various treatments—but nothing’s worked.”

Your mind raced, struggling to process the meaning behind her words. Organ failure? The realization hit you like a sledgehammer, a wave of nausea rolling through your stomach as her words continued.

“He’s willing to pay any price for a match,” she explained with chilling indifference, her eyes boring into yours. And if you're a perfect match for her...” She paused, letting the weight of the situation sink in before she added, almost with a shrug, “Your organs will save her life.”

A sickening silence followed, the air thick with your disbelief.

They were going to harvest your organs.

Panic clawed at your throat, and your body felt like it was in freefall. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. The cold, brutal truth hung in the air between you and the woman, her pitying gaze cutting you deeper than anything else.

“You should feel honored,” she added, her voice devoid of any real sympathy. “You’ll be giving someone like her a second chance at life.”

Your heart raced, blood pounding in your ears. Your survival wasn’t just threatened—it was already decided.

Your body went numb as her words settled over you, the realization of what they planned twisting your stomach into knots. But as the silence stretched on, the woman seemed to catch herself, a slight frown tugging at her lips.

“We don’t know for sure if you’re a match yet,” she admitted, almost thoughtfully. “But you're a woman, so that's already one criteria met. And it’s just a matter of time before we find out the second.”

She reached into the pocket of her crisp jacket and pulled out a syringe and a small vial. The sight of it made your blood run cold. Your heart hammered against your chest, each beat a sharp reminder of how close you were to losing everything.

“I need to take a blood sample,” she said, her tone almost professional now. “Don’t bother resisting. We’ll get what we need, one way or another.”

Your limbs froze, panic surging through your veins. You wanted to run, to scream, but your legs felt like they were locked in place. The walls of the basement seemed to close in tighter around you, and for a moment, all you could focus on was the needle in her hand.

The woman’s dark brown eyes flicked toward you, assessing your reaction. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s just a small test,” she said, almost like she was coaxing you into compliance. “If you’re not a match, maybe you'll get lucky. You're a woman after all, you at least have other parts you can use to gain your freedom."

She stepped closer, the syringe gleaming under the dim basement light. Your body tensed, the urge to fight back bubbling up inside you. But you were weak, outnumbered, and utterly trapped.

“Hold out your arm,” she said softly, like she was giving you a choice.

Your breath caught in your throat as the syringe gleamed ominously in her hand. Your heart hurt as you glanced toward Reese, who stood in the corner, guilt-ridden and pale, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t help you—he wouldn’t help you.

You glanced back between her and the syringe, the world closing in tighter with each second. Your mind raced for a way out, some escape, but it was futile. Even if you refused, they’d force you—there was no other option.

You took a shaky breath and slowly extended your arm, the gesture more out of survival instinct than anything. Live long enough to find another way out, you told yourself, trying to cling to that sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was still time.

The woman smiled, satisfied, as she knelt beside you, her movements smooth and practiced. “Smart choice,” she said, wrapping a rubber band around your arm to prepare for the blood draw.

You winced as the needle pierced your skin, but you forced yourself to stay still. The vial began to fill with dark red blood, and the woman worked with a cold efficiency, as though she’d done this a hundred times before.

After what felt like an eternity, she withdrew the needle and pressed a cotton ball to your arm. “There,” she said, standing up and eyeing the shiny vial filled with your blood. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You wanted to lash out, to scream, but your body was too drained, your mind too scattered. She was right—it didn’t matter if it was easy or hard. What mattered was what came next.

The woman turned to the man with the heavy boots. “Get this to the lab,” she ordered, her tone brisk. “The results will tell us everything we need.”

He nodded and took the vial, disappearing back up the stairs without a word. The metal hatch closed behind him with a heavy thud, and the basement fell back into tense silence.

The woman stayed behind, her eyes never leaving you. “Now we wait,” she said, crossing her arms. “If you’re lucky, you won’t be a match. But if you are… well, we’ll be in touch.”

You swallowed hard, dread pooling in your stomach. The blood had been drawn, the wheels set in motion—and there was nothing you could do but wait for your fate to be decided.

Reese shifted uncomfortably in the corner, his eyes downcast, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you.

The woman glanced at him, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “I suggest you keep her in good condition until we know for sure. We wouldn’t want her damaged, would we?”

Reese flinched but nodded, his guilt written all over his face.

And with that, the woman turned on her heel and left, her heels clacking up the stairs, the metal hatch sealing you back in the basement.

You were alone again—alone with Reese and the suffocating weight of your uncertain future.

As the metal hatch slammed shut, trapping you back in the dim, suffocating basement, something inside you snapped. The overwhelming dread, the helplessness, the betrayal—it all collided at once. Your chest tightened, and your blood boiled with the rage that had been simmering beneath the surface.

Your eyes locked onto Reese, who was still slouched in the corner, avoiding your gaze. His entire body trembled, but all you could see was the man who had led you into this nightmare. The man who had stood by and watched as they drew your blood like you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

You trusted him.

"You," you spat, your voice cracking with fury. "I trusted you, Reese."

He flinched at your words, but he didn’t look up. His hands were shaking, balled into fists at his sides, but that didn’t matter. He had made his choice.

"I trusted you!" you shouted, your voice growing louder, the raw emotion burning through your exhaustion. "I told you everything—I told you about my escape, I thought you were trying to help me!"

Reese's lips trembled, and he finally raised his eyes to meet yours, guilt etched deep into his pale face. "I... I didn't have a choice," he stammered, his voice weak, barely audible. "They—they would've killed me if I didn’t—"

"Spare me!" you snapped, cutting him off. "You sold me, Reese! You handed me over to them like I was nothing!" The weight of his betrayal hit you all over again, the pain of it cutting deeper than any physical wound. You had told him about your kidnapping, he had watched you sob over Xavier, had you thinking he was someone you could trust, someone who cared.

Tears of frustration burned at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You couldn’t —not now, not for him of all people. "You knew what they were going to do to me," you continued, your voice trembling with anger. "You knew, and you did it anyway."

Reese shook his head, his voice cracking as he mumbled, "I—I didn't know they'd—about the organs. I thought..." He trailed off, as if the excuse could somehow absolve him. But it didn’t.

"Thought what?"

"I'd thought they'd just...rape you. And then dump you somewhere..." he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "Like the others.."

"Like the others?!" you said, your voice rising. "You...you've done this before? You're...sick! Fucking sick!"

He shrank back, visibly cowering under your words. "I didn't have a choice," he repeated weakly, like it was the only thing he could cling to.

"You always have a choice!" you shot back, your voice cracking from the strain. "You had a choice to be a good person, and you chose to betray me."

The room was silent after that, the air thick with tension. Reese had no response, nothing to say that could possibly justify what he'd done. He just stood there, looking more like a frightened child than the man who had so easily handed you over.

You swallowed hard, your chest heaving with the weight of your emotions. "I hope it was worth it," you said coldly, the anger fading into something far more painful. "I hope whatever they promised you was worth selling me like this."

Reese remained silent, his eyes cast down, unable to meet your gaze any longer.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but it held no weight, no real meaning. Before you could respond, he suddenly rushed past you, his footsteps heavy on the cold floor. He didn’t look back.

You watched, stunned, as he hurried up the wooden stairs, his movements frantic, almost as if he couldn’t bear to stay in the room with you a second longer. The old wooden stairs groaned under his weight, the sound harsh in the suffocating silence.

You stood frozen in place, your mind whirling with a mix of anger, disbelief, and the crushing weight of betrayal. His retreating figure disappeared through the metal hatch, and the sound of it slamming shut echoed through the basement like a final punctuation to his cowardice.

The room fell eerily quiet, the air thick with everything left unsaid. You were alone again, left with nothing but the cold, the dull ache of exhaustion, and the horrifying knowledge of what awaited you.

You slumped against the wall, the weight of the situation crashing down on you all at once. The basement felt smaller, colder, and more suffocating than before.

Days blurred into each other, each one indistinguishable from the next. The cold, damp basement became your prison, a place where time felt meaningless. Your mind drifted constantly, a mixture of fear, anger, and hopelessness gnawing at you from all sides. You found yourself thinking about Xavier—wondering if he was still out there, still searching for you. He had to be, didn’t he? You tried to cling to the idea that maybe, just maybe, he’d find you before it was too late.

You wished you had listened to him when he said he had a bad feeling about you going with Reese. How could you have been so stupid?

Reese came in and out of the basement sporadically, never staying for long. He kept his distance, barely making eye contact, as though seeing the consequences of his betrayal was too much for him to handle. He left you basic necessities—pads, water, a couple of small meals—but nothing more. Every time he disappeared, it felt like another thread of hope was being pulled away, leaving you more isolated than ever.

You pondered attacking Reese when he came down here next. He seemed fidgety and not as strong as the others. But still strong nonetheless. And in your weakened state, he could still take you down, or threaten you with the gun again.

At some point, you drifted off to sleep, exhaustion overtaking you in the cold dark. Your period had finally subsided, and so did the awful cramping, allowing you to rest at least somewhat peacefully. You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sound of the metal hatch creaking open startled you awake. Instinctively, you didn’t move, thinking it was Reese again—another silent, guilty visit to drop something off before fleeing.

But then, a deep, gruff voice pierced the silence. A voice you recognized, but not in the way that brought comfort.

“Well, look who’s sleeping like a baby,” the voice sneered, low and menacing.

Your heart sank, and fear surged through you as you realized it wasn’t Reese. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, and your breath caught in your throat when you shifted to look at the voice.

It was the man—the one who had helped Reese bring you down here in the first place. His heavy boots clomped against the wooden stairs as he descended, and his shadow loomed over you, large and threatening. His expression was cold, his eyes calculating as they swept over you, like he was assessing just how broken you’d become since last seeing him.

“Thought maybe you’d die of boredom or despair by now,” he muttered, amusement tinged in his voice. “Guess you’ve got a little more fight in you than I thought.”

You swallowed hard, your body going rigid. You stayed still, instinct telling you that any sudden movement might provoke him. The air around him seemed darker, more dangerous than Reese’s jittery cowardice. This man was different—he was in control, and he wasn’t afraid of you.

“What do you want?” you finally managed to whisper, your voice shaky but defiant.

He stepped closer, his boots thudding against the concrete floor, the sound making your skin crawl. His smirk widened, and without warning, he crouched down, bringing his face level with yours.

“What I want,” he said, his voice low and mocking, “is to see if you’re worth anything besides your organs doll.”

The threat in his words hung heavy in the air, and you knew with chilling clarity that whatever came next, this man wasn’t here to make things easier for you.

The man crouched in front of you, his smirk growing wider as he watched the fear flicker across your face. You tried to keep still, to steady your breathing, but your body betrayed you—a small shiver ran through you, and you knew he’d seen it. His eyes glinted with satisfaction, feeding off your discomfort.

He leaned in closer, so close that you could feel his hot breath on your skin. "Reese might be too soft to touch a woman, but I’m not." His voice was a low, rumbling threat. "You’re property after all. But it'd be a shame to let sweet pussy go to waste before they cut you open."

You recoiled in horror at his depraved words, bile rising in your throat. The man straightened to his full height, towering over your prostrate form with an air of malevolent authority.

"So here's how this is going to go," he said casually, as if discussing the weather rather than your impending ravishment and dismemberment. "I'm going to have my fun..." He smirked cruelly. "And you are going to lay there and take it. Use any teeth and I'll rip them out of your head. Got it?"

Your mind raced, desperate to find some escape from the waking nightmare. But with Reese too cowardice to come down and interfere, and this sadistic brute clearly intent on violating you in the most degrading ways imaginable , you knew you were utterly at his mercy.

A strangled cry escaped your lips as tears streamed down your face. Despite your best efforts, the man's lecherous gaze only widened at the sight of you in distress. His grip on your arm tightened, filling you with pain.

"Go ahead and cry," he mocked. "It only turns me on even more, doll."

You screamed, desperately trying to free yourself and escape his grasp, but he was too strong. He slammed you back down onto the dirty mattress as you fought to kick him away. But he easily overpowered you and forced your leg back against the bed.

"Stop! Please!" you pleaded, horrified as he reached for the waistband of your sweatpants with his rough, calloused hands.

Panic surged through you as his fingers grazed your skin. In a burst of desperate strength, you twisted violently and managed to wrench your leg free. You kicked out hard, your foot connecting solidly with his jaw. He reeled back with a pained grunt, momentarily stunned.

"I said, lay there and take it" he growled, bringing his palm down against your face in a deafening slap. Angry hot pain radiates against your face and you cry out, tears spilling out faster now.

He wastes no time flipping you around, pinning you on your stomach against the bed. You sobbed loudly as he finishes pulling your sweatpants past your rear, rubbing his cold hands against the cloth of your underwear.

"Nice butt, smooth skin..." he growls, tugging off your underwear past your legs despite your struggle. "Oh this is gonna be so much fun."

Your underwear hits the concrete floor with a soft patter and your mind goes numb. There was truly no way out of this. Maybe the struggle was futile all along.

It was time to accept this.

Your body goes limp as you try to dissociate from the sound of the man unbuckling his belt. The sound of him shuffling with his underwear. The feel of his rough hands as he grabs your hips and raises them towards his groin, forcing you onto your elbows. You notice his breathing gets heavier as he takes in the sight of your exposed cunt.

"He shuffles in his pockets for a bit, looking for something. Your mind drifts off as he does so, thinking of the time Sylus had you in a similar position.

The morning he had promised to only do it once that day if you didn't fight him. You had picked the position yourself, not wanting to see him enter you again. At least that's what you told yourself.

Truthfully, you hated the way your face would heat up and your cunt grew wetter at the sight of his toned chest and stomach. The deep rumble of his voice in your ear as he praised you for taking him in all the way. You didn't know why your body reacted the way it did to him but it scared you. You had chalked it up to it just being an involuntary bodily reaction.

But there was no wetness when this beast touched you, no warmth or aching heat in your core.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of tearing plastic.

Ah, he brought a condom. At least you wouldn't have to worry about catching any diseases before you were hacked to pieces.

You almost laugh at the thought but nothing was funny truly. The man grumbles a bit and rolls the condom onto his thick shaft gently, his knuckles popping as he slides it down. The smell of latex and lubricant fill the air momentarily. You wish you could gag at the smell of it, but you're too scared to move anymore. He positions himself, aligning his tip with you. You brace yourself for the pain that is sure to come, your heart pounding in your chest as he presses forward.

"If you make a sound, I'll beat your ass stupid. Got it?" he growls.

You say nothing as he begins trying to push into you, but he had clumsily misjudged where your slit was and kept missing. You couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh, this guy clearly didn't have much experience with the female body. You feel his hand slam down on your head, causing you to cry out.

"Ain't. Shit. Funny..." he snarled, gripping the side of your face even harder. You stifle another sob, trying your hardest to breathe against the mattress.

Still, he kept trying to force his cock inside you, every clumsy miss rubbing salt in the wound of your complete helplessness. He leans back momentarily to try and balance his cock against you. Your head throbs under his grip and you feel your eyes starting to gently close, sticky tears threaded between your lashes.

Your mind, desperate for an escape from the current nightmare, drifts back to Sylus. Memories of him rise to the surface, unbidden yet comforting in their own strange way. You recall his gentle gaze, the way he’d look at you when you opened your eyes in the morning—those moments when everything was still, and his presence felt like a soft cocoon of warmth around you. You’d never once seen him fall asleep before you. No, Sylus clearly only slept when it was "morning". Your circadian rhythms had always been completely opposite, and you knew, deep down, that he was likely watching over you as you slept.

It had never really felt invasive though. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you feel... cherished. As though, in his world of shadows, you were the one light he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

No one had ever looked at you with such adoring eyes—not even Xavier. Though Xavier had cared for you, and there were moments where you saw glimpses of that same tenderness, it was different with Sylus. Something deeper. Something more intense, as though you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

The thought made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected. Even now, locked in this nightmare, it was Sylus’s gaze that haunted you—not Reese’s guilt, not Xavier’s concern, but the way Sylus had seen you, like you were fragile and powerful all at once.

Despite everything, he had shown you the most kindness out of anyone in this horrid place.

"Sylus..." your voice escapes in a broken whisper, a fragile plea lost beneath the weight of fear. Silent tears streak down your face, and your body shakes uncontrollably beneath the man's looming presence. His grunting had finally stopped, but the air between you buzzes with his barely-contained fury. His body is tense, frustrated—still unable to force himself into you.

With a snarl, he suddenly flips you onto your back, his hands rough and merciless. The room spins for a second, and your breath catches in your throat. He looms over you, his eyes dark and burning with a cruel light.

"What the hell did I say about talking?," he growls, voice low and dangerous. His hand rises, fist clenched, muscles rippling as he prepares to strike. Your heart lurches, and a terrified squeal slips out, unbidden. You squeeze your eyes shut, body curling in on itself instinctively, trembling as you wait for the blow to fall.

The seconds stretch unbearably long.

But the pain never comes.

Instead, the air shifts—thickening, buzzing with something far darker than the man hovering above you. His fist, still poised to strike, halts mid-air. His breath stutters. Eyes wide with shock, he suddenly clutches at his throat, his face twisting into something grotesque, panicked. His mouth opens as if to scream, but only a strangled gasp escapes.

"Is that anyway to talk to a lady?"

You blink, unsure if you’re seeing it right—red mist, thin tendrils coiling through the air like living smoke. It winds around him, constricting. His body spasms as if in a silent scream, but no sound comes, only those terrible, wet choking noises.

His eyes meet yours for a fleeting second, wide with horror, before his body jerks violently. With a force that seems inhuman, he’s wrenched from above you, flung across the room like a rag doll. The impact as he slams into the far wall is sickening—bones cracking against stone, the wet sound of flesh collapsing under the blow.

He screams in agony, his body convulsing violently on the hard concrete as his cries echo through the space.

Your breath comes in shallow, rapid gasps, the red mist still hanging in the air, pulsing like it has a life of its own before it slowly starts to fade. The air grows colder in its absence, the immediate threat gone, but the tension in your chest refuses to ease. It's over, but the chaos is still fresh, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Then you see him.

Tall, broad-shouldered, his white hair touched with streaks of silver, and those unmistakable crimson eyes—sharp, intense, but not as lethal as they were a moment ago. There's no mistaking Sylus, even through the haze of confusion clouding your mind. You blink, trying to process it all. He’s here, finally, but the emotions swirling inside you are a tangled mess.

He steps toward you, slow and deliberate, his gaze softening the closer he gets. Despite the relief that comes with his presence, something else churns beneath the surface—frustration, maybe even anger. He’s here, but it took so long. Too long.

"Why do you look so shocked?" Sylus smirks, his voice low and teasing, as if the sight of him towering over you like this is the most natural thing in the world. He tilts his head, amusement dancing in his crimson eyes as he studies your expression. "You called my name, didn’t you?"

You open your mouth, but no words come. Relief washes over you, but it’s tangled with confusion and resentment. Part of you wants to collapse into his arms, to finally feel safe, but another part of you burns with anxiety—why doesn't he look angry at you?

Sylus’s smirk softens into something more genuine, as if he senses the storm inside you. "I’m here now," he says, his voice quieter, almost gentle. But it doesn’t calm the whirlwind in your chest. You don’t know if you want to yell at him or thank him. Maybe both.

All you know is that the sight of him, standing there like he’s always been, stirs something deep within you that you can’t quite name. You're suddenly aware again of your half-nakedness and you rush to put back on your panties and sweatpants, much to Sylus's amusement.

“Wh-what took you so long?” you finally quip, a sharp edge to your voice as you lift your chin, deciding to meet his presence with defiance instead of relief. The condescension rolls off your tongue, even as your heart still pounds from the aftermath. You can feel the tension in your own body, a mix of trauma and pent-up frustration, but you mask it behind a cold stare.

Sylus moves toward the hyperventilating man still writhing on the ground, his gaze briefly flickering with something unreadable before a low chuckle escapes his lips. The sound reverberates through the room, rich and deep, completely unbothered by your biting words. His crimson eyes flick to you, amusement dancing in them, as if your sharp attitude was exactly what he’d anticipated.

“Is this the thanks I get, kitten?” he muses, his tone playful, yet carrying that underlying edge he always seems to have. A teasing smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he towers over you, utterly relaxed, like your defiance is nothing more than an amusing game to him.

"I save you, and all you’ve got is attitude?" He raises an eyebrow, the smirk on his lips widening as if he’s enjoying this far too much. “You’re getting harder to please.”

The comment, laced with a playful challenge, lingers in the air. He seems utterly unaffected, like your frustration has only fueled his amusement, and for a moment, it’s hard to tell whether you want to snap back or let your guard down. That smirk of his—so infuriatingly calm and knowing—pulls you deeper into the whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Before you can spit out a retort, the sound of scuffling and harsh footsteps echoes down the stairwell. Your attention snaps toward the noise just as Reese is unceremoniously dragged down the steps, his pleas and panicked protests filling the room. The twins, Luke and Kieran, have him by the arms, hauling him down with little effort. Reese stumbles on the last step, crashing face-first onto the concrete.

Luke and Kieran exchange satisfied glances, snickering as they stand over him, a mixture of triumph and mockery in voices.

"We got him, boss," Luke announces with a smirk, nudging the groaning man with his boot. "Tried to run, but he fell flat on his face." He punctuates his words with another casual kick to Reese's side. "Much like he did just now."

Reese winces in pain, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he slowly lifts his head. His gaze darts frantically around the room, his face paling as he realizes who surrounds him. His eyes widen in terror, flitting between you, Sylus, and the man still crumpled on the ground beside him, writhing in pain.

"S-Sylus..." Reese stammers, his voice barely a whisper as it cracks with fear. His entire body begins to tremble, the weight of what he’s done crashing down on him. "You ran away from Sylus...?" The disbelief in his own voice is palpable, as if fleeing from someone like Sylus was a death sentence all on its own.

Sylus’s crimson eyes narrow as he watches you closely, his expression shifting to something darker—something possessive. He takes a deliberate step toward you, the casual ease he held moments ago now replaced with a quiet intensity. His gaze flicks to Reese, then back to you, and though his smile remains, there’s no warmth behind it.

"So," Sylus begins, voice smooth but tinged with something uneasy, "seems the two of you have gotten well acquainted?" The question feels loaded, not out of curiosity, but something more. His eyes bore into yours, as if searching for answers beyond your words. The smirk on his lips falters just slightly, betraying the irritation he’s trying to mask.

The tension between you grows thicker, his posture subtly shifting as if he’s placing himself between you and Reese. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t so much as glance at the trembling man on the ground. His focus is solely on you, as though the possibility of friendship with someone, especially another man, unsettles him more than the danger you just faced.

You shake your head immediately, the denial spilling from your lips without hesitation. "We’re not close!" you say quickly, the firmness in your voice leaving no room for doubt. "He’s no one to me."

Sylus’s eyes remain locked on yours, his crimson gaze intense, but you don’t falter. "Reese… he tricked me," you continue, the words coming faster now. "He’s the reason I’m down here in the first place. I didn’t come down here willingly. I followed him, stupidly thinking he was going to help me."

Your last words are filled with malice as your eyes flick to Reese, who cowers on the ground, unable to meet your glare. You shoot him a look of pure disdain, your anger boiling over at how easily he had deceived you, how he had dragged you into this mess.

Before you can say anything more, Sylus reaches out, his hand cool against your hair as he rubs the top of your head with an almost unnerving gentleness. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s the smug look on his face that catches you off guard.

“I know, sweetie,” Sylus says, his voice smooth and dripping with that signature arrogance. His eyes glitter with amusement as he watches you closely, his smirk deepening. “I watched you disappear into this house. I saw everything.” He speaks as if he had been in control of the situation from the start, his tone laced with confidence, as if he was always one step ahead.

"You were following me the entire time?" you ask, your voice tinged with disbelief as you try to piece together how much of this Sylus had been controlling from the shadows. Sylus merely chuckles, the sound rich and full of amusement, like your confusion was a source of entertainment for him.

"Something like that," he replies casually, his smirk widening. "I had Mephisto follow you."

As if on cue, swirl of red mist begins to materialize on Sylus's shoulder. The mist condenses around the form until, with a sharp, eerie caw, a large black crow appears, its wings flapping beside Sylus’s head. The bird’s eyes glow faintly, a reflection of the same crimson hue in Sylus’s gaze.

"Mephisto?" you and Reese say at the same time, your voices overlapping in disbelief.

You take a step back, staring at the bird in shock. "Mephisto... he's been that bird this whole time?" The revelation hits you like a slap in the face. You'd seen the bird before—many times, in fact—but you’d never thought it was more than just an ordinary creature. Now, the sight of it perched so confidently on Sylus’s shoulder, surrounded by that ominous red mist, makes your head spin.

Reese, still on the ground, stares up at the bird and then back at you, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. "I thought your name was Meph—" he begins, his voice trembling as he looks between you and Sylus, but his words are abruptly cut off.

Sylus’s expression hardens instantly, the playful amusement evaporating as he glares down at Reese with pure disdain. His eyes darken, the malice in them palpable as he takes a step toward Reese, who shrinks back, trembling.

"Don’t talk to her," Sylus snaps, his voice cold and sharp, dripping with venom. The possessiveness in his tone is undeniable, a clear warning that Reese’s mere presence, let alone his attempt to speak to you, is unforgivable in Sylus’s eyes. The tension in the room grows suffocating, the danger swirling around Sylus like a storm barely contained, and you can’t help but feel the weight of his protectiveness—both unsettling and strangely reassuring.

Mephisto caws again, the shrill sound echoing through the room as if punctuating Sylus’s command.

Reese looks away, trembling on the ground. Your head spins, barely able to process what's going on here. You suddenly feel dizzy, as if the room was getting smaller and smaller.

You hadn't truly escaped from him. Not once, the entire time you had been gone. He had been watching. His influence here stretched farther than you could ever imagine.

Reese looks away, trembling on the ground, clearly too terrified to challenge Sylus any further. His presence becomes insignificant in the midst of everything else crashing down around you. Your head spins, the room seeming to close in on you as the weight of the situation presses against your chest. It’s suddenly hard to breathe, as if the air itself is suffocating you. You try to steady yourself, but a dizzying realization takes hold.

Every step you’d taken, every move you thought was yours alone—he had been watching.

Mephisto.

Sylus had seen everything, every moment you thought you were free, unraveling in front of your eyes now like a cruel illusion. His influence, his reach—it stretched farther than you could have ever imagined.

The invisible leash you thought you’d slipped off, the one you were so sure you'd broken, had never left your neck at all. It had been there the whole time, just waiting to tighten when he decided.

Your pulse quickens, panic settling in as the walls seem to close in tighter, the room shrinking around you. The thought of being watched, controlled, all while you believed you had any autonomy—it sends a cold wave of dread down your spine. Sylus’s smirk, the way he speaks so casually about it, only amplifies the feeling that you were never really out of his grasp.

He knew. He always knew where you were.

And here he stands, calm and possessive, like he’s merely reclaiming what was his all along.

The weight of it all becomes too much to bear, and your legs give way beneath you. You crumble to the floor, feeling as though the world has closed in around you. The realization sinks deeper, suffocating you with the cold, hard truth—despite all your efforts, all your fighting, you’re right back where you started. The leash had never been cut. You hadn’t escaped. And now, the path ahead is one you thought you'd left behind.

Your body trembles, you let out a sob, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions—fear, frustration, resignation. But before the panic can fully take over, you feel a hand brush against your shoulder, light and reassuring. Sylus crouches down beside you, his presence filling the space, his voice low and deceptively soothing.

"Shh, kitten," he murmurs softly, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a caress, though it only twists the knife deeper in your chest. "It’s alright. I’ve found you, its okay." His tone is affectionate, but there’s something twisted lurking beneath the surface, a dark possessiveness wrapped in that comforting voice.

"You're mine again," Sylus whispers, his voice soft but laced with an iron-clad certainty. His fingers delicately trace small circles on your back, sending involuntary shivers up your spine. You don't look at him, unable to meet his eyes. Your chest tightens, and you can feel the threat of tears building, teetering dangerously close to spilling over.

As much as you wanted to leave this wretched place, to escape the nightmare of it all, the thought of being trapped with him—completely under his control—felt just as suffocating. Maybe more. Yet, despite that suffocating feeling, your body betrays you. You’re not pulling away from him. You’re not resisting.

Why weren’t you leaning away from him right now?

"Don't cry," he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your skin, drowning out the cold, damp air of the basement. "Not now. Not in front of them."

Before you can process his words, the room fills with a new, horrific sound. Reese and the bleeding man on the ground suddenly scream, the agony ripping from their throats. Red tendrils of mist swirl violently around their bodies, coiling like snakes ready to strike. The sound of broken bones echoes sharply through the space as Reese is slammed into the back wall next to his fallen comrade, the impact brutal, unforgiving. The sight sends a fresh wave of horror washing over you.

You instinctively shift your gaze toward the carnage, wanting to see what’s happening—but Sylus’s hand shoots up, his fingers gripping your chin firmly. With a gentle yet unyielding force, he turns your face back to him, refusing to let you look anywhere else but into his crimson eyes.

"Look at me," he commands softly, his tone dark but calm, as if the violence behind you was nothing but a trivial distraction. His fingers are warm against your skin, his touch disturbingly tender despite the chaos around you.

"Your tears, your pain, your misery," Sylus whispers, his voice dripping with a dark intimacy as his hand moves gently to your face. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away a tear that hasn’t yet fallen, his touch both tender and terrifying. "It all belongs to me."

His crimson eyes lock onto yours, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a vice. He leans in closer, his bourbon cologne enveloping your senses, his presence suffocating yet intoxicating.

"I’m the only one," he murmurs, his voice a possessive, almost dangerous softness, "who gets to see you cry."

The declaration sends a chill down your spine, and your heart clenches at the weight of it. There's a dark finality in his words—a twisted claim over every ounce of your suffering, every emotion that was once yours, now his to control. The room feels smaller, the air thinner, as if everything in this moment is solely for him, as though the very act of your tears belongs to him and him alone.

You can feel the tears threatening again, but now even that feels like giving in to him—another part of yourself slipping through your fingers, taken by the man who holds you so tightly in his grip, both physically and mentally. And as his thumb lingers on your cheek, his gaze never wavering, you realize just how much he's wrapped himself in every aspect of your life.

The screaming in the room builds to a deafening crescendo, filling every inch of the space with the sounds of agony. Reese’s voice cuts through the chaos, desperate, pleading.

“Please, make him stop! Ask him to stop!” Reese begs, his voice cracking, raw from pain and terror. His broken body trembles against the wall, red mist still coiling around him like a vice, squeezing the life out of him with every passing second. He looks at you, eyes wide, desperate, his fear palpable.

"I-I helped you! R-remember? I'm sorry!"

For a moment, you hesitate, frozen in place, the weight of his suffering tugging at some distant part of your conscience. Should you take pity on him? The thought flickers briefly in your mind. But then you remember. The lies, the manipulation, how he had dragged you into this nightmare without a second thought. Your heart hardens.

You look at him, your voice cold and unwavering.

“Go to hell, Reese.”

The words cut through the air, sharp and final. Reese’s eyes widen in horror, but before he can speak another word, Sylus moves with a calm, terrifying ease. Without a second thought, he reaches into his coat, pulling out a sleek black pistol. The room falls eerily silent for a brief second, the chaos holding its breath.

And then, without a word or hesitation, Sylus points the gun at Reese and pulls the trigger.

The shot rings out, and Reese’s body goes limp, his head lolling to the side as blood pools beneath him. The life drains from his eyes in an instant. The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of what just happened settling heavily in the air.

You stare at the scene in shock, unable to fully process how quickly it had all happened. Your breath catches in your throat, your mind racing as you look to Sylus. But he simply shrugs, completely unfazed, his expression calm and even slightly amused.

“I sent him to hell, just like you said, sweetie,” Sylus says casually, tucking the pistol away as if nothing had happened. His voice is smooth, disturbingly nonchalant, like this was just another task to cross off his list. His eyes, however, flicker with something darker—satisfaction, perhaps, or just a quiet thrill at doing what he believed you wanted.

Your stomach twists, a mixture of shock and disbelief churning inside you. Sylus turns his gaze back to you, his smirk still present, as if waiting for your approval or reaction. You say nothing, just watching as Reese's once lively body slumped to the floor.

Sylus then turns his attention to the last man still clinging to life, his crimson eyes narrowing with cold calculation. Without a word, the red mist surrounding him begins to swirl, thickening and intensifying with an ominous hum. The tendrils of mist snake their way toward the man, wrapping around him like a tightening noose.

The man’s breathing becomes erratic, desperate gasps for air as his body convulses. He tries to scream once more, but no sound escapes his throat as the mist constricts further, crushing the last remnants of life out of him. His limbs jerk, his eyes wide with terror as the pressure grows unbearable.

Sylus watches with a dark, detached satisfaction, his hand slightly raised as if guiding the mist with an almost casual precision. Then, Sylus clenches his fist. And with a final, sickening crack, the man’s body gives way. The force of Sylus’s power snaps through him like a vice tightening too fast. His chest caves in, bones splintering as the red mist crushes him entirely.

A grotesque splatter erupts as his body meets the tiled shower wall behind him, his carnage painting it in violent shades of red. Blood and tissue streak down the wall, dripping in a slow, macabre trail, the remnants of his existence.

You flinch, your breath catching in your throat at the brutality of it all, but Sylus remains calm, lowering his hand as the mist dissipates, his expression indifferent to the destruction he’s caused.

"Sorry," Sylus says smoothly, his tone as casual as if he had just finished a routine task. His gaze slides back to you, eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. "I didn't want them breathing the same air as you any longer."

The room is deathly silent now, save for the slow drip of blood from the walls, and the overwhelming finality of it all settles in your chest. You can't tear your eyes away from the gruesome scene, the shock numbing your senses as Sylus steps in front of you, his presence once again wrapping around you like a suffocating mist. His dark eyes bore into yours, a predator sizing up its prey, his calmness only amplifying the terror that gnaws at the edges of your mind.

You flinch as the squelch of his shoes on the blood-soaked floor breaks the silence, your heart pounding in your throat. Every instinct tells you to run, but your legs refuse to obey, frozen in the icy grip of fear. Sylus tilts his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint, unreadable smile.

"Woo hoo! Boss is so cool!" Luke chimes in, his bubbly voice shattering the eerie stillness. He gives Kieran a high five before erupting into a fit of laughter. The contrast between his cheerful tone and the grotesque scene feels jarring, almost surreal. You glance at him, baffled by the carefree attitude, as if the carnage before him was nothing more than an impressive show.

He bounces on his feet, voice shrill with admiration as he watches Sylus with the same excitement one might have for a favorite hero. The dissonance is unsettling, pulling you deeper into the spiraling nightmare, where the boundaries between reality and madness blur with each passing second.

Sylus doesn’t react to Luke’s enthusiasm, his focus entirely on you.

Sylus, now visibly more at ease after the extermination of the two men, steps forward with a calm confidence. His eyes never leave yours as he crouches down and effortlessly grabs you from the floor, hoisting you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing. The abruptness of it sends a jolt through your body, and you instinctively try to push away, but his grip only tightens—firm, yet almost playful, like a cat owner gently restraining a stubborn pet.

His chest rumbles with a low chuckle, and when he speaks, his voice is laced with dark amusement. "Ah ah, I won’t let my kitten scatter off a second time."

Your body begins to tremble uncontrollably in his arms, the weight of the situation finally crashing over you like a wave. You had escaped—however briefly—and now you were trapped again. The suffocating inevitability of it wraps itself around you, a crushing reminder that there was bound to be a punishment for trying to flee. Your mind flashes with memories of him slicing open your arm, the cold, detached precision of it, and you wince as the old wound aches in response.

"Please... I'm sorry," you whine, your voice barely above a whisper as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "Don’t hurt me again, don’t punish me."

Sylus tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes watching you with that unsettling mixture of amusement and something that borders on tenderness. "Sweetie, it’s okay," he whispers, his tone disturbingly gentle. He reaches up to brush a bit of dirt from your face, his fingers cold against your skin. "Do you really think I’m going to hurt you? Am I that scary?"

Despite the soft cadence of his voice, the dissonance between his words and the twisted affection in his gaze only amplifies your fear. He holds you securely as he begins to ascend the stairs, leaving the bloodied carnage in the basement to rot, a gruesome memory that would never wash away.

As you both make your way out of the metal hatchet you spot various bags filled with small white powdery substances settled on the couch and tables.

Drugs. Reese had been tricking girls and trading them for drugs.

The air grows cooler as you pass through the broken, dingy living room and out into the crisp, suffocating night of the N109 Zone. With a shrill caw, and a flatter of his wings, Mephisto takes flight and disappears into the night sky.

A dark car with blacked-out windows waits for you at the curb, its ominous presence sending your heart racing again. You think about making a run for it—just for a fleeting second—but that hope vanishes as the twins scatter hurriedly to the front seats, and Sylus pushes you both into the back with an effortless shove.

The car roars to life, and the world outside begins to blur as you realize the inevitable: you were headed back to your cage, the one you had fought so desperately to leave. Sylus keeps you firmly straddled on his lap, his grip unyielding, as if he thought you’d vanish into the night if he let go for even a moment. His eyes, sharp and predatory, stay locked on you, unblinking and watchful.

For a while, the only sound is the hum of the engine as it cuts through the night, the silence between you as suffocating as his hold. Then, suddenly, Sylus lets out a long sigh, breaking the quiet as he leans forward, his face burying into the curve of your neck. The unexpected closeness makes your skin prickle. He nuzzles into your skin like a bird seeking warmth, though you doubted you smelled like anything but blood and grime.

"I missed you," he whispers, his voice soft but strained, as though it carries a deep weight of worry. He shifts, tilting his head up to look at you, his gaze surprisingly gentle, like someone gazing at something precious. His eyes search yours, a strange vulnerability flickering behind the usual cold dominance. "So, so much."

Something tightens in your chest at the sight of him looking at you this way, as though you were his treasure, something he had longed for. The sincerity in his expression shakes you, confusing your thoughts even further. Could he possibly mean it?

"Did you miss me?" he asks, his lips curling into a small, almost playful smile.

You just stare at him, uncertain how to respond. The words lodge in your throat, and before you can stop yourself, you turn your head away, avoiding his eyes. The truth is, you don’t know what to feel. Had you missed him? Or were you just desperate to be saved, no matter who?

He chuckles softly at your reaction, resting his head gently against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. "It’s okay," he murmurs. "You don’t have to answer."

As the car speeds deeper into the dark, your mind begins to spiral, thoughts tangling into knots you can’t unravel. As his arms tighten around you, keeping you pinned in place, you ponder a persistent thought.

Sylus had said he wouldn’t hurt you—but he never said he wouldn’t punish you.