𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 - (ᴅɪᴘᴘᴇʀ ᴘɪɴᴇs)

𝟎𝟎|𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐙𝐞𝐫𝐨⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊ ¤ ❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘, Oliver completely lost track of where he was.

For however long he'd been hiding and running for his life, he stopped paying attention to where he was long ago after he'd left the island. The portal had closed behind him, yet he still had the nagging feeling that he was unsafe, being watched, being hunted.

Oliver should have known. His aunt had always warned him against trying to change destiny, messing with fate. Originally, he had been set to die when he turned eighteen, but he was only twelve years old and death was already starting to prod at him.

From what he was aware of, he'd left home merely five months ago, hoping to evade his cursed fate.

He'd once heard from his father, when he was five years old, the story of Greek King who sought to escape his ill fated destiny, much like himself. King Acrisius had been foolish, and his actions were catalysts to his invetiable demise.

Five year old Oliver thought the King had been foolish, much like he himself at that moment.

Distantly, he thought he could recognise the forest he was in. He couldn't have been too sure though, as he felt the minimal energy he had left was draining away by the minute. His train of thought was slow and his movements slower. The lack of food and water, coupled with the strenuous running for two consecutive days was finally catching up to him.

He stopped next to a tree, gripping the gnarled brown bark for support. Spots danced in his vision, and his breathing was shallower than before. There was no way he was going to be able to go on in that state.

He leaned against the tree, his shoulder pressing painfully into the bark. All the strength left his legs, and he trembled before falling to the dusty ground with a thud.

Oliver turned to his side, wrapping his arms around himself to shield himself from the cold. The sun was already setting and darkness was creeping in. If he failed to get up and run, he would get caught.

And if he got caught...well, he didn't want rto think about it.

The wind blew around him, and he shivered, curling into himself further. He was tired, and hungry and thirsty and it was so fucking cold, but all he had was a stupid, flimsy sweater he got from–

The island never got cold. Even at night, it was always warm. He preferred sleeping in the open air instead of indoors, staring at the star studded sky, listening to the chirping of cicadas that filled the night air until he finally fell asleep.

Despite everything that happened, he missed the island. Some part of him, deep down wished that he could go back there. Before shit went down, he no longer felt like his imminent doom was looming over his head like a dark rain cloud, because he'd been promised that he'd never reach eighteen. He wouldn't die if he stayed there. He'd been promised, and he'd been stupid enough to believe it.

Oliver let his eyes flutter shut, exhaling softly. The sharp ache in his stomach stabbed harder, and he groaned quietly in pain.

The realisation that he was going to die struck him so suddenly that he would have cried right then and there if he had any tears left to cry.

Maybe he should have stayed on the island. Maybe he should have waited a bit longer before running, until he came up with a solid plan that would get him home alive.

But now here he was, alone, drained of magic and with no way of getting back home, with high chances of him dying very soon.

"This does not look good at all."

Now he was hearing voices too. Great.

"No, you idiot. I am actually here. Open your eyes."

Oliver gasped when he felt something cold touch his cheek, and his eyes flew open. Standing tall before him, was the very red haired demon who got him into this mess.

As if reading his thoughts–which he most likely was– the demon rolled his ruby coloured eyes, pushing his pale hands into the pockets of his slacks. "Again with the blame game? Do not act like I never warned you about this, you stupid child."

Oliver tried huffing to express his annoyance, but it instead came out as a weak, raspy cough.  The demon eyed him for a minute, his gaze unreadable. He sighed, crouching to look at him closer. He brought his two of his fingers to Oliver's paling forehead, and the young boy felt some of his energy coming back to him.

The ache in his stomach dulled, and he was strong enough to bring himself up into a sitting position.  He pushed his back against the bark if the tree, trying to keep as much distance between him and the demon as possible.

The demon didn't seem at all bothered by this, and he stayed exactly where he was.  "I can help you," he stated.

Oliver glared at him, although he face he wore was much braver than what he was actually feeling inside. He didn't trust the demon at all, and he felt completely justified in doing so. It might have been mostly his own fault that he was in this mess, but the demon had been the one to give him the way out, very well knowing how dangerous it could be.

"I can help you get out of this dimension, you know this. Each moment you waste contemplating whether you should trust me or not, he gets closer. He will find you soon. I cannot help you if you do not want me to."

Cold fear seized Oliver's chest, and he nearly stopped breathing. The demon before him stuck his right hand out, waiting for the boy to take it into his own. "Take my hand, Oliver. Strike a deal with me. That is the only way I can help you."

With much difficulty, Oliver parted his dry lips to speak. "I don't trust you. You're the reason he's after me," he spoke, his voice hoarse and shaky as a frightened sob threatened to tear it's way out of his throat.

The space between the demons eyebrows pinched in frustration, and his red eyes flashed. His lips curled up into a sneer. "That hardly matters right now. Do not be foolish, boy. No one else will help you. Take my hand."

The forest howled, and Oliver shuddered in terror. The demon didn't falter, and he waited for the boy to make his decision. Striking deals with demons never ended well for anyone in history, and Oliver was sure if he did this, he would come to regret it later.

But that option sounded far more appealing than what awaited him in this dimension.

A joyful laugh sounded from deep within the forest, and Oliver made his decision quickly.

He took the demon's hand.

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊ ¤ ❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

hellooooo...helloooo
how are are beautiful people doing??
how are y'all liking this so far?? Scream at me in the comments to tell me what you think!

unrelated question, if I were to be working on a mike wheeler ff and eddie munson ff which one would you guys like to see first??

thanks for tuning in!

Bye~
– 🙈💜