Mad God's Love [Dark, enemies-to-lovers BL]

14 O

It was far too dark and I knew I had gone blind. Waving hands in front of my nose did nothing but cause disorientating disservice. Felt like I was perpetually falling already. Reached out to grab onto anything and my fingers sank into slippery material. I could not tell if that impeded the descent in the least. I could still draw in air, so that had to account for something? But it reeked so impossibly strong I started wishing to drown instead. I screamed but could not hear myself over the whooshing and thundering.

What the hell was happening?!

As though removed by a benevolent hand, the all-out assault on my senses ceased, along with all of the dismay. That clued me in, together with the final memories I seemed to possess. I knew I had to be angry, or at least very scared, but there was nothing.

"Why is there two of me?" I challenged harshly and it sounded underwater. I think I was curled up into a ball but could not be sure.

"That was a mouth of another," the reply came from afar but was still so powerful that my bones vibrated and teeth buzzed. I bit down hard to stop the nasty sensation and it tasted... not quite bloody.

Once I was able to think again again I realised I must have been turned into a mouth, too. I felt anger simmer and peter out again. I concentrated on choosing to logically hate my captor. It wasn't hard.

"I did not consume you. Your current existence is but a memory of my own," a more familiar, but still horridly echoing snarl somewhere closer-by informed me.

What the fuck does that even mean?

All I could think of was the look the other me had on that baby face. The wide eyes were so horrified to see me, and even more to witness me go. He didn't seem forced nor puppeteered, or wouldn't have reached out for me. Which meant this son of a bitch had to be lying to me. Whatever situation he's been in, I was hands down worse off. Either way, I had no inclination to be the pretty little mouthpiece on a leash.

What even was that place?

I was just on the cobblestones, having good time and thinking that perhaps horned devil wasn't all that bad. Then this happens. I had distinct impression some time has passed since then. Which meant I was definitely the copy. Dammit.

What the hell am I going to do now?

But there was no frantic panic in my thoughts. Just cold, hard facts. Thought process worked so differently to what I was used to, I could hardly concentrate. Was I even myself anymore? No, there was somebody more fitting that description now. So what was I, then? An appendix to this creature. The only thing left for me to do was to burst.

There was no driving emotion behind my actions, but wresting with the falling sensation I stood and faced the towering horns nearby. I punched him, kicked, but the creature have not inched. I clawed with nails, but the damp environment made them soft and even more useless. I leaped and hung onto a horn, intending to snap it off and drive it through whatever passed for his hollow heart. The damned thing was far sturdier than it felt.

Unlike the time in the fields, my chicken bones weren't shattered with an offhand flick. I was not even verbally reprimanded. My efforts meant nothing to this thing.

"You are me now. I have no reason to hurt myself," crafty monster uttered.

"I do," I oozed spite.

No rage to drive my actions forward, I stopped and that was when demonic figure moved for the first time. His disturbingly human hands clasped mine in some mockery of tenderness. I knew I should be feeling disgust, but there was none so I failed to recoil. If it wanted resignation, I had plenty of it.