Trash of the Count's Family Anthology

I'm so selfish...

6 years. Its been 6 years since Cale had been thrown into this world. 6 years since he helped Choi Han. 6 years since he had brought in the cat siblings he stumbled across. 6 years since he saved that baby dragon. 6 years since he got his first ancient power. 6 years since he had first met Eric, Gilbert and Amiru. 6 years since he had let Taylor and Cage in the campsite. 6 years since he had Alberu. 6 years since he had first scammed people in this world.

5 years. It had been 5 years since he had stopped Venion. 5 years since he had choked Adin out. 5 years since he had found out who Arm was. 5 years since he had found out who the leader of Arm. 5 years since he had killed Arm. 5 years since Choi Han had figured out who he was. 5 years since he was able to help Korea in the past. 5 years since he had helped Dodam.

4 years since he learnt about Hunters. 4 years since had to jump universes. 4 years since he had saved his 50th world. 4 years since he came home with at least thirty stab wounds. 4 years since he missed the sharp undertone to their gazes of worry.

3 years since Kim Rok Soo had told his family who he was. 3 years since they abandoned him. 3 years since Ron and Beacrox left permanently. 3 years since the dragons had to leave for hibernation.

2 years since his companions had stopped visiting. 2 years since his kids outgrew him and his controlling ways. 2 years since he had seen them.

A year since he had his first mental breakdown in a while. A year since he had last seen Choi Han. 

11 months since his ancient powers were forcibly absorbed.

("You can't handle us anymore." Their last words to him still imprinted on his soul. "Goodbye Cale. You were our favourite. Thank you, for everything and live well.")

10 months since he was stuck in his mansion.

("Please let me out. I'm sorry..." Cale had attempted to bargain, but his hyung hadn't listened. He couldn't recognise his dongsaeng anymore. Maybe it was because of his teary eyes.)

8 months since he started craving touch again.

(He laid on the messy bed; the irony. He shut his eyes tightly, hoping he could feel the warm touch of his butler. Or the energetic bounces of his children. Anything to prove they were real.)

6 months since he started hallucinating.

(Familiar voices echoed his hallways. He got up from the bed he had melded to chase after the sounds. He could see his knight, his friend, his family. "Choi Han?" But something wasn't right. He could only clutch on to the air.)

4 months since his house got covered in vines, left alone.

(Cale opened the blinds, exerting more force than he usually had to. The vines that grew over the windows had blocked the sun from him. He tsked under his breath. "I'll need to get Ron to deal with that. How could he have missed it?" Nevertheless, he missed the warmth of the sun.)

2 months since he had stopped eating.

("Beacrox, are you okay?" He asked at his dining table. There were a few plates, glasses and other silverware laid out, covered in dust and cracks. Cale didn't notice. "It's okay. I can handle waiting." He smiled warmly, the gesture reserved for his family wasted on the empty, cold hallway. And so he waited. )

1 month since he started destroying everything.

("What is going on with me today?!" Cale yelled. His hand was scrunched into a fist. Blood dripped from his palm and onto the floor. Pain was familiar. Pain was constant. Pain was welcome. "It's Eruhaben's birthday, this has to be perfect. This is the only one we've celebrated." He spat out. He tore a painting from the wall where it cluttered in the corner. "Goddamnnit.")

2 weeks since he started to only consume wine.

(Cale chugged down a bottle of wine, wiping his mouth. It settled uneasily and nauseously in his stomach. It had been so long since he had anything in there, it felt wrong. His head ached with pangs. He kicked the doors open, mumbling apologies to the abandoned kitchen. He stumbled to the pantry, as he picked out more alcohol. 'Heh. maybe Uncle had the-.' Cale thought, before wincing. Who?)

A week since he started wishing that Death would come for him.

(Everything hurt. His arms and legs ached. There were glass bottles everywhere; some shattered some intact. The glass shards were deep in his skin and cut through his flesh. However, he didn't care. The pain that had him awake at night was mental. Flashes of memories so distinctly different from his present had him crying for a past he couldn't fully remember. Why won't that GoD bastard come for me? Does he not want me too? )

3 days since he contemplated doing it himself.

(Living is best. Cale's brain had no other thoughts, but that one on loop. It was almost cultic how that mantra became his most recurring thought. Speaking of which... he hadn't seen Clopeh in a while. Like he had summoned him, Clopeh appeared in front of him, worshipping him with cryptic words. 'Vicious, insane, bastard,' he thought. Since when was Clopeh billingual? His thoughts was distracted from the part of his brain he wanted to avoid.)

A day since he decided to do it.

(Living is best. Living is best. Living is best. Until you had nothing to live for. Cale resolutely determined that must've been the secret ending to the phrase. Cale was bored. He didn't even flinch about Ron's signature smile or him giving his lemonade anymore. It didn't taste like anything at all. He might as well had been drinking air. His family was getting predictable. That wasn't like them at all. Or maybe it was. He couldn't remember. If he died, maybe that holy bastard could help him remember. )

An hour since he drank his last drink.

(The glass was dirty. It had been a while since it had been used. He drank from the bottle more often. Nowadays, he kept his last bottle for a special occasion. 'I guess dying could be considered one.' He poured it into his glass, his eyes wide as it stopped before it was even a pint. 'I must have had more special occasions then I remember.' Forgetting was a curse, he grumbled. He swallowed the wine down, without even a burn in his throat. 'I hate when people put empty things back in the pantry.')

30 minutes since he had found the poison.

(He smiled. He turned the glass bottle back and forth in his hand. It was a home brew from Hong. He was so proud of his first attempt. Of course, it was a paralysis. Cale's pride and reassurance helped him believe in himself. He would need to use a teaspoon to be paralysed. Cale felt bad. He should say goodbye, shouldn't he? But a small part of his brain disagreed - why should I, they didn't say goodbye to me ...what? Why would they ever say goodbye? They would never leave him. He must be going insane.)

10 minutes he drank it.

(He tipped his head back and swung the bottle up to his lips. His eyes widened at the taste but he still drank. His Adam's Apple bobbed up and down, yearning to finish the bottle in it's entirety. It was sour. Was this poison made for him? It was familiar and he wanted more. This tasted like Ron's lemonade. He greedily licked the bottle, wishing to keep the taste close to him forever. He let out a sigh when there was no more left, but it wasn't discontent. 'What a nice taste to die to.' He still hated sour drinks, but lemon flavoured things he learnt to tolerate. 

Unaware to him, the lemon flavour was made for him. Made to repulse him, that is.)

5 minutes since he could start feeling it.

(He leant against the wall, his limbs slowly getting paralysed. His fingers stopped twitching, his feet felt cold. It would only be a matter of time until it spread to his heart. He slumped down. Shouldn't this be the time he feels regret? Where he wishes to undo the damage? He surpressed his healing ancient power, that despite not having a soul, seemed frantic to repair him. Silly ancient power, he snickered, he was irrepairable. His hands froze and his calves tightened to stop his movement. Record flashed memories from years ago until this moment. At least it was working. He thought of his appearance. Would his family members be disgusted at his dishevelled looks? Would they find him fast enough? Would they even realise he was dead?)

And it would only be a few until he could sleep forever.

(this is so dumb but have fun)