The Love You Want (sleep token fic - Polyvessels)

III: Part Five

III cannot breathe. The arm around their throat only grows tighter with every futile attempt to escape. Harsh, ragged breathing is hot against his ear beneath his mask, and III is filled with all consuming panic.

Their assailant is bigger than them, wider and more muscled and III can't wiggle away, despite their thinner frame. The man must weigh at least fifty pounds more than III, all hard lines behind him.

What is the point in being a God's Vessel if he cannot even get away from a human man, regardless of their weight difference?

III kicks their feet out, trying to drop all their weight so that man has a harder time continuing to drag them deeper into the forest.

"This should be far enough. Not that anyone would come looking for you anyway." The man mutters, kicking the back of III's knee in and dropping to the ground at the same time.

III hits the dirt covered forest floor, twigs digging into their face through the mask before that man turns him around, a knee placed into his lower sternum, holding them down. A hand is used to hold III's wrists together to his side, pulling on one shoulder painfully.

There's a flashlight in his eyes, blinding their vision with white. It burns, like III was staring directly at the sun. They cover their eyes to escape the brightness, vision going white.

"Stop fucking struggling." The man spits, voice familiar in a way III can't place as they contemplate their ability to lean up and slam their head into the other mans.

III only struggles harder, more desperate to escape from the man and his dark tone promising violence.

"Let me get a look at you before I knock your lights out, freak. I've been waiting for the chance to get one of you alone. It might have been easier to get the little one."

The flashlight is still in their eyes, he can't see. It hurts, it hurts. There is such anger in them, too, at the thought of this man getting ahold of II instead. It wouldn't have gone as well, III is sure. II is far stronger than III and Vessel combined. He could probably overpower this asshole easily.

"Don't." III begs, trying to push them away from him as the man continues straddling them.

Wrongness was building up inside him with every inch of those fucking fingers closing in on their mask, the flashlight held in that very hand, too. Despite the situation, III can't help but think the man has some amazing dexterity.

His face belonged to no one but the other vessels and their God. No one else is supposed to see him. No one. No one.

"Shut up!" He hisses, leaning in close so III can smell the foul odor of his breath, "Your weird little friends just showed up one day and became the talk of the town with those stupid fucking masks, then you join them. Y'all in a cult or something? Can't show your face cause of some false God?" III kicks his feet at the insult to those they love, his God, aiming for a groin, a knee, anything.

"Fuck off!" III snarls, earning a knee in the ribs for their snark.

III lets out a grunt at the contact, at the ache it brought. The knee remains, like before but worse, holding him down and making their breaths come in short pants at the pressure placed right below their sternum. The man on top of him was burly, with a cruel smirk that twisted his facial features into something hideous. He could've been attractive if his personality wasn't so fucking atrocious. Watching him above them, like a beast over their prey, III is reminded very suddenly of their death.

Tears gather in III's eyes as they realize exactly who is on top of them, at the sharp pain slicing through their head.

III knows him, remembers what he did. Remembers the kicks to his ribs and stomach. There is a face to the memories now, that III didn't have before. He feels sick, like something has shifted inside them that should never have been touched. They weren't supposed to remember faces.