Louis no longer wants to live and his plan to leave the world behind was almost a success. Almost. That is, until Harry, a vampire, saves Louis' life and grants him immortality with his bite.
However, Louis is far from grateful when he wakes up to h...
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TW: Torture!
Louis has long lost his sense of time. He doesn't know how long he's been there, in his personal hell, now alone with Dante or how often he woke him up with new methods of torture that would have killed every human.
The only thing he knows is that he once again loses himself.
In the suffocating darkness of his captivity, hope begins to crumble like fragile sandcastles beneath an oncoming tide. The initial trust in Harry's unwavering determination wanes, replaced by the relentless drip of despair that echoes through the confines of his torment.
At first, Louis clung to the belief that Harry, with an innate sense of their connection and his trust in their love, would decipher the intricacies of Ben's malicious plan. However, as time stretches into an interminable continuum of agony, doubt gnaws at the edges of his resolve. The imagined scenario where Harry storms in, a saviour clad in determination, becomes a fading mirage, elusive and intangible.
The once vivid tapestry of their love and trust now unravels, thread by thread, leaving behind tattered remnants of what was. Louis, ensnared in the clutches of relentless pain orchestrated by Dante, struggles to reconcile the stark contrast between his initial request for release when he actively tried to die just a short while ago and the stark reality of its execution.
The torment inflicted by Dante transforms into a nightmarish paradox. What was once a plea for an end, a desperate bid to escape the unrelenting agony, now morphs into a regret-laden desire for a different fate. The slow, calculated cruelty of his captor becomes a twisted manifestation of a wish gone awry, a plea that Louis now fervently wishes he could cancel.
The oppressive weight of despair presses upon Louis' chest, each laboured breath a reminder of the dwindling embers of hope. In the silence of his suffering, he confronts the harsh truth that escape may not be forthcoming, and the prospect of a gruesome demise looms ever larger.
Louis finds himself entangled in the tendrils of resignation. The walls of his prison, both physical and metaphorical, close in, the isolation amplifying the echoes of his own despair. He yearns for a reprieve, not through the cold embrace of death, but through the envisioned return of Harry - a beacon of salvation that flickers, now dimmed, on the distant horizon.
As the days blur into an indistinguishable haze of pain and desolation, Louis grapples with the bitter taste of abandonment. The glimmer of hope, once a beacon in the darkness, flickers like a dying flame, leaving him to confront the haunting possibility that his plea for salvation may have fallen on deaf ears. The cocoon of despair tightens, and within its confines, Louis teeters on the precipice of surrender, longing for a release that may never come.
