Edens Sleep Token one shots collection

Hopelessly Devoted

Summary: Its been several months since Vessel lost Sleep, but what would happen if that were to change..?

Content warnings: Content warnings: Choking, descriptions of violence, drowning implications, near death experience, degrading, self depreciation, attempted suicide implications, abusive situations, implications of past/current torture, depictions of depression, mild self harm, relationship violence, possessive behavior

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It was... cold. Very cold. Harshly chipping away at him, Ice shards stabbing into his veins and freezing his blood until he couldn't move. These nights were quiet, he dare not move an inch to break such sacred silence. He dared not speak his wishes out loud, though felt them wallowing deep enough to leave small scars beneath the surface.
It was... agony. To feel the weight of his blankets piled on him but yet be so cold, so unable to feel any semblance of warmth at all.
It was wrong.
Though on this night, he was not quite left alone. The quiet hum of rain on his window caught half his attention, his tired arms somehow managing to shift the rest of his body to face said window.
The drops dropped lazily down the glass, the dim light of the outside world catching on the fleeting bits of water. They clung for a moment, desperately trying to hold on, only to roll down his window and vanish into the depths of that he could not quite see from this angle.
Fleeting... impossibly so.
Vessel pulled one of his many blankets over his head, growing weary of such a saddening sight, something so horribly familiar. His mind wandered the possibilities, the ideas and thoughts clouding his grief gave a moment of solace. For a moment, just a moment, he felt at peace. He didn't wonder, didn't desire, didn't feel. He was just... there, whatever that meant.
Though the realization of that brought it all back, his loneliness, the reason he didn't hear those quiet whispers anymore, the reason he didn't feel that lulling, agonizing pull. A pull to them, to Sleep.
So little time had passed surely, or so he thought as his breath grew thin, his cheeks heating up a little. A moment passed before he pushed the blankets from over his body, the rush of cooler air meeting his dampened skin.
The concept of time had grown beyond him for just long enough, his mind wandering for... he wasn't quite sure. The pattering of rain was still there, but the candle he left burning on his bedside table had long gone out.
His eyes caught on it for a moment, the dried wax pooling over the small dish it had been left on and atop the larger surface beneath. Vessel watched it with a blank gaze for a moment, a quiet tapping on his window pulling him from his thoughts.
The sound startled him. He shot up, his gaze quickly shifted to the window that had been left uncovered. For a moment, that's all he did; he stared, watched, waited. Perhaps part of him hoped to hear it again, hoped to be relieved of this solitude, but several minutes of silence said otherwise.
A small, exhausted sigh escaped Vessel's lips as he fell again, his back landing rather uncomfortably against the pile of blankets below him. His head was tilted back in a way that was uncomfortable, but yet it felt... familiar. It felt like-
He pushed back the thought before he could finish it, sitting up again with a hushed growl. The wariness, the aching... he had long since grown tired of it all.
How dare they... to leave just like that, after everything...
His thoughts continued down a negative spiral, anger mixing into sadness, sadness to longing. After a few minutes of silence, Vessel felt a mix of shame and guilt deep within him at the prior thoughts. To think so negatively of Sleep... even if they had left him.
That sense of longing, the void they had left... was still there, even as he buried himself again in the mountain of blankets he hadn't really known he had until recently. Even then, Vessel hadn't done much of anything except lay around, the realization dawned on him as a flash of lighting lit up the sky.
A small smile cracked his lips at the poetry of that moment, shrugging off the blankets for the third time that night. The momentum he felt was rather sudden, and it wasn't peace... but motivation that left him to get up again- the first bit of anything good he had felt in weeks.
Time had become lost to him once more as he left the room, his feet carrying him to the small studio that was tucked away in the corner of the manor occupied by himself and the other worshipers. Vessel knew he had to be quiet at the very least, but did not intend to waste this chance to heal- and maybe a chance to reach his lost deity. There was a sense of desperation in it, a need he couldn't define or explain, almost as if his body itself was being called forward. Maybe it was.
The hush of the hallways was eerie to Vessel as he walked, the occasional creaking floorboards being the only call out of him being awake. Each step near the rooms of II, III, and IV were taken with extra caution. Vessel hadn't worried about waking up II or III, but IV was different. Neither IV nor himself had slept well for their own varying reasons.
Even then, Vessel had been lazing around for weeks and all work was left to the other three. He didn't want to be the reason they woke up in the middle of the night- the storm raging outside of those safe walls could take the blame for that if it so wished.
A few tense minutes passed in fractured silence before Vessel was able to slip into the studio room, swiping a match from the matchbox left by the door and setting the flame over the wicks of a few candles around the room. The quiet eeriness in the room felt near suffocating, the last time Vessel was in this room was when he wrote Blood Sport- when he had cried and begged for his deity to return, when he had realized he had lost them.
The memories of it flooded his mind, playing over again and pulling at his heart just as they did before. Without realizing, Vessel drifted towards the keyboard that had been sitting around collecting dust the past few weeks, his fingers drifting over the silent familiar keys. He wasn't sure what notes they were playing, but the pattern felt familiar to him somehow. Each keystroke left a small trail of dust on the board, something hardly noticeable in the dimly lit room.
Curiosity overtook Vessel, drawing him to the cord of the keyboard and plugging it into the outlet before he returned to stand before it. His blackened fingers settled over the keys, sitting stationary before playing a discordant note. He cringed internally to himself before trying again, guiding his hands over the same strange pattern they were playing before.
It wasn't right, it wasn't...
Vessel shook his head, trying several rhythms before finding one he was satisfied with. Several hours of dedicated work went by, tears leaving his skin stained with streaks in the black paint he hadn't taken off, ink from his pen leaving finger print marks and smears over the pages he had gone through. It wasn't until a quiet knock sounded from the door that Vessel realized he had been up all night.
"Who's awake..?" The voice on the other side of the closed door sounded groggy, freshly woken. Had Vessel woken someone? A small hint of guilt clouded his judgment, that same voice pulling him out of his head again.
"Vessel? The powers out..." IV cracked the door and peaked in, seeing Vessel sitting on the floor with pages scattered around him and an acoustic guitar sitting in his lap.
"Sorry, did I wake you up..?" The guilt in his tone was clear, Vessel cringed a bit to himself at how pitiful it sounded. His voice was rougher around the edges, it was clear what he had been up to and that he had been crying recently.
"No, you weren't in your room, so..." IV trailed off, an awkward hand rubbing against the back of his head as he glanced away from Vessel. IV had not moved from the door, just... watching. It was off putting at best, eerie at worst. Luckily for Vessel, IV didn't notice the obvious signs of grief- it may be better that he never asked.
"I'll uh... leave you alone." IV pulled the door shut again, seeming almost all too eager to leave. The suffocating cold that rushed over the room and snuffed out the candles told Vessel why.
It was all too familiar, but he still felt a slight twinge of fear snake into his being. Even then, he took note of his increased breathing and heart rate, trying to calm both down without much success. Vessel dared not speak, dare not move, he almost held his breath in some twisted anticipation- or maybe it was held in fear.
"You." The single word sent a chill down his spine, the voice was the same as he remembered it. A voice without a body, an echo without a source, distorted and twisted into a thousand tongues. The distortion hurt his ears to listen to, almost like TV static set deep within his ear canal, fluctuating in volume by the second. One moment it was bearable, the next he felt as if the sound could cause his ears to bleed- and maybe they would bleed.
Vessel glanced around the room with caution, the scent of freshly blown out smoke gathering around him and choking him. He coughed and swatted at the smoke gathering, knowing it wouldn't do anything regardless- this was not the doing of natural gravity.
The presence in the room grew on him, pressing against his body and limiting how much air his lungs could intake. His heart rate increased on its own, formless hands settling gently on the sides of his face. It was off putting, cold and warm at the same time, soft and gentle, but also sharp and almost unbearable to feel. He wanted to pull away, his body subconsciously flinching at the touch. The entity didn't like that, grabbing him roughly this time and forcing him to look up at them. His breath caught, a quiet hiss making its way through his teeth as he clenched them together.
"I didn't-" Vessel started, quickly being cut off by his deity gripping him a bit harder. He winced at how their nails dug in, if you could even call its formless being by general terms.
"Traitor." Sleep hissed at him, all too close to him but too far away at the same time. Vessel was stunned, staring up at the god with his mouth slightly parted. He wasn't sure what to say, how to respond, if he could respond at all. Even then, staring up at the god from where they towered over him, he decided against saying a single word.
Those dark eyes were far more than enough for him, he knew nothing could be said in this situation, nothing could save him from this god's wrath, so he did what he thought best: submit to it. Vessel felt his shoulders drop a bit, his hands shaking where they gripped against his cloak. The guitar had long since been set aside, the god's attention on Vessel and him alone without distraction. It wanted his full attention as well, and it had it.
Sleep tugged Vessel to his feet, leaving him stumbling for a moment under its wrathful gaze.
"Worship." Its voice was demanding, cold, sharp- hearing it felt like blades cutting into his skin. A weak nod was the only response he could muster, a shaky breath escaping his lips as he was left alone again in the dark.
Vessel fell to his knees, his head falling into shaky hands as he tried to steady his breathing. Worship. He had been told to worship...
Vessels grip on the hood that covered him grew taught, his knuckles growing whiter by the second without his realization. A few seconds passed in which he felt he may not get up at all before he felt that tug, the tug towards the altar. The tug to Sleep. The tug towards worship.
In that moment, his body no longer became his own. His feet carried him without him knowing where he was going, his hands falling shakily to his sides as he walked.
The manor was left behind, rain water soaking his skin and clothes, seeping through the fabric to drench the core of his being. If it could soak into his body itself, it would have. Even then, the cold was doing that enough as it was.
The cold breeze drifted by him, catching his cloak and bringing water to his eyes until he couldn't see where he was going. It was a miracle he made it to the altar to begin with, a small place set aside from the main manor. It was styled almost like a church, though it was missing the pews and was far too small to be considered a church. Vessel ascended the first set of steps, his eyes setting on the withered church that hid the door to their gods altar. There was something always strangely poetic about it, to forsake one god for another... Though it only felt correct that Sleep would do something along those lines.
The vines climbed up the walls, the door to the entrance tangled in them. Vessel reached for the small handle that led underground, pushing the roots and wet leaves aside. He cringed at the texture on his skin as he did, the cold rain water leaving his hands dirty/ His reaction only lasted a moment as he pulled the entrance open, brushing his hands off on his wet clothes. It didn't help much, but it was better than nothing.
The stairs going down felt darker than normal, the dust settled on the ground unnerving. Vessel was used to it being in the air, he was used to having to cover his mouth and nose coming here, but not tonight. No one had been here in a while, for any reason.
"Worship." The voice carried through the dark halls, guiding him to the altar he was all too familiar with. The same voice that had brought him out into the rain, guided his subconscious mind back here again. The candles in the underground room were lit already, Sleep's presence demanding them to raise their flames in worship as well.
The entity's formless being stood before his shaking body, the cold of the rain and the temperature hollowing him to his very core. Sleep motioned Vessel forward with a crude gesture towards the altar, expectation clear in it. It had been so long...
Vessel only obeyed, stepping forward as he was asked to until he was kneeling before the altar, kneeling before Sleep itself. His forehead was almost set against the ground, his hands stretched out towards the god he had worshiped for so long- the god he had been brought to his knees for, his savior and eternal tormentor.
"Traitor." Sleep spoke again, Vessel winced internally at the violence behind that tone, the harsh expectation.
"Explain." The entity walked by him, he could feel it in the way the air turned ever colder. His body shook violently but he didn't move any more than to lower his arms.
"It was a mistake." Vessel's voice was shaky but sure, his quivering body causing instability in his tone. He fought against it futilely, clenching his nails into his hands in an attempt to stabilize himself.
"A mistake..." The god repeated the word, it sounded like poison between their lips, poison directed at its vessel. The silence that followed was an indication for Vessel to continue regardless of the entity's clear disapproval.
"I have failed you as a vessel... as a worshiper. I have forsaken you, and my faith in your message." His hands grew ever tighter in on themselves, small drops of blood staining the floor under them. Vessel didn't notice, or didn't care to notice.
Sleep's reaction wasn't verbal, instead they reached down and grabbed Vessel's cloak, the fabric pulling against his throat. He coughed and reached up to try and get some space, the glare from his god led him to quickly drop those efforts. This was a punishment, he deserved this pain and he knew it.
"And you have learned nothing." The god hissed out, drawing Vessel ever closer as they spoke. Vessel himself flinched back, his body tensing up all over again. He wasn't sure what he expected, but the next moment he was on his knees again.
"You must learn." Vessel gasped as Sleep invaded his mind, invaded every corner of it and fought him for control over it. He pushed back for a moment, his tensed muscles straining from the effort. Despite his best efforts to push it back, doubt came to the forefront of his mind again.
This isn't right, it said.
I shouldn't be here.
Unworthy.
Disgraceful.
All mirrored and echoed, all true. Vessel melted in these recognitions, these things he had known from the very start- his god would not pity him, his god had never pitied him- Sleep would not favor him. He was made to suffer at its hands, made to suffer by its will. His pain was his penance, his worship and devotion, his life- both of which he had forsaken.
"Please..." It was pitifully pathetic as if spilled from his lips, barely a whisper in his choking body. No matter how much he wanted it, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. He couldn't struggle. It felt like he was outside of his own body, watching as it fell over onto the ground, shaking violently within the hands of the gods' control.
Sleep's whispers in his head repeated the same things he himself believed: unworthy, disgraceful, failure. He was all of these, and he would have been made to believe it had he not already seen its truth.
"Learn from your failure." The gods' harsh words felt like they were right next to Vessel, his attention snapping back to his own body. The entity that stood before him now did not speak with compassion, perhaps it didn't see the point in kindness.
He pushed himself up slightly, coughing and choking on the dust scattered over the floor.
"Please-" He choked out before falling into a coughing fit again, curling in on himself as tears streamed down his face. The moisture stained the ground under him, turning the dust to numerous darker shades of brown and gray.
His lungs screamed for air he didn't have, a pressure he couldn't see pressing down on his body. He reached out and clawed the ground, his bloodied hands leaving streaks of dark red over the dust as he did. It stung getting in the open wounds, burned as the small particles grated over them, a sharp sensation as small grains of salt and sand made their way over the red. He winced and tried to push himself up again, his body's violence against itself sending him down again after hardly making any progress.
The coughing fits grew worse, Vessel's time to breath growing less and less between them until he truly couldn't anymore. He lied on the ground wheezing, trying for air as dust filled his lungs instead and choked him. The ground was stained with his blood and tears, Sleep reaching down to pull its vessel into their lap.
The action was sharp as he was tugged into place, made to face the god. He could hardly move as it was, he didn't have the strength to object Sleeps will further. It was more gentle than they had been, though the word "gentle" was still far from the right one to use.
"Learn, foolish vessel." Sleep hissed, setting a cold hand over his eyes that only grew colder. Before Vessel knew it, he was somewhere he hardly recognized. Somewhere in his mind it was familiar, though he couldn't quite place where from.
A pool of red surrounded him, a sharp sensation going up his arm. The nerves burned, the red soaking into his clothes and his cheeks flushing of color. The surface he lay on was cold and hard under him, the texture against his finger tips indicating tile. Vessel groaned against any attempts to move, settling again uncomfortably against the cold as he bled. He watched the red seep out of him, his mind growing hazy and dizzy from the blood loss. He hardly processed it as his own. It was slow, every second feeling like a million years, but those moments passed in silence.
His eyes finally drifted shut, only to feel the cold violence of a water current pulling at his cloak. Vessel's eyes shot open again, panic ensuing his entire body as he fought against the waves trying to bury him under water. Salt water rushed his senses, leaving his body numb and eyes useless. The struggle was futile, the blue light under the cold surface shining down on him. It soaked him from head to toe, every inch of his being left chilled from the water's icy touch. However, it was also serene, almost, the water moving gently through his hair and slowly dragging him deeper and deeper. Vessel didn't quite mind this, the chill in his body fading with his mind.
The next time he opened his eyes was on the altar floor, vines tangling around his body to hold him there- Sleeps doing. He struggled and pulled at them, the thorns tearing through his skin until he got loose of them and pulled free. The plants where stained red in his wake, his own body mirroring them from where he knelt on the floor.
Every movement he made called for objection from his body, his blood soaking into his already soaked clothing. He closed his eyes for a moment, bowing his head again. It had all felt so real, but waking up here again... surely it was just a dream. The exhaustion piercing deep in his limbs said otherwise, the salty after taste on his tongue and stingy feeling left in his eyes, almost as if they'd been washed out with salt water. It's impossible that was anything but a dream, but Sleep...
"Have faith, foolish mortal." A gentle hand guided his chin up again, Sleep stood before him. Their voice was more gentle this time, kinder from where they stood before their vessel.
"I.. have faith, unwavering." Vessel spoke quietly, his voice shaking with his body.
"I am your vessel, yours to use. I am a loyal follower, humbled by the presence of you." The pretty words always had been learned, but in this moment... he meant them. In a delirious state as he was now, Sleep looked like a holy force. In a way, they were. Even now, even with the time that passed...
Sleep simply nodded before letting go, watching their vessel slump over again once he was no longer being supported. However, the god made no effort to help him either- such was only expected.
Sleep's vessel was still so easy to break.
The presence of the god faded as Vessel eased himself back to the ground, the dust on the floor catching in his lungs causing small bouts of coughing here and there. He shifted on his back to be a bit more comfortable on the altar floor, spreading his arms out so his hands lay palm side up towards the roof. There was no more light than that of the candles to tell him the time, though it dilated here with the presence of a god. There was no sure way to tell how much time had passed, it could have been a few hours or several days for all he knew.
He was left alone to think, to ponder. His god was harsh to him, cruel, but justified as well. This pain... his betrayal called for worse, he found himself grateful for Sleep's mercy. However, part of him knew this wouldn't be the end. A small taste of the marathon, if that.
His body gave a visceral shudder at the idea that it could be worse, a shaky breath pulling Vessels mind out of the anxiety filled pit he had found himself in. To experience death, brought to the very brink of the end of his existence... and so easily too. For Sleep to push him that far and bring him back like nothing had happened... Vessel didn't want to experience whatever worse may imply.
An exhausted haze began to drift over his mind again, clouding his thoughts. Vessel tried to push back against it, focusing on the rough texture of the ground beneath him or the pain of his battered and broken body, but even that pain began to fade along with him.
It would be worse in the morning, but for now... he could rest with a restored faith.

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I'm not sorry that this is the first chapter, it sets the stage for the rest of the upcoming one shots. These may or may not be a coherent story line but they all exist in the same universe.