Darkwood: Circus Inferno

Asphyxiaphobia

000

The air between Riggs and Xul was electric, the tension palpable as they sat together in one of the quiet, dimly lit rooms of the mortuary. Riggs, ever the provocateur, leaned in closer to Xul, his usual smirk playing on his lips. There was no banter, no teasing words this time—just a growing intensity that neither of them seemed willing to break.

Xul's expression was as unreadable as ever, his eyes dark and calculating. Riggs, feeling the familiar thrill of pushing boundaries, slid his hand along Xul’s back, his fingers dancing over the tiefling’s spine. Xul flinched slightly, but he didn’t pull away.

“I knew you’d come around eventually,” Riggs murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “You can only resist me for so long.”

Without warning, Xul’s hand shot out, wrapping tightly around Riggs’ throat. The suddenness of the gesture startled Riggs, his smirk faltering for a moment. He wasn’t used to Xul reacting like this—not with such force, such raw aggression.

“You think this is a joke?” Xul growled, his voice low and threatening.

Riggs tried to chuckle, but the grip around his throat tightened, cutting off his air. His hands instinctively reached up to grasp Xul’s wrist, but he didn’t try to pry him off. Instead, a strained laugh escaped his lips. “You… never did like jokes, did you?”

Xul’s eyes flashed with something dark, something primal. His grip tightened further, and Riggs’ breath hitched, his face flushing as the pressure around his throat increased. Xul wasn’t playing this time—there was no hint of their usual banter, no trace of the teasing game they often engaged in. This was different.

Riggs’ body jerked as Xul suddenly shoved him backward, his back hitting the floor with a thud. Xul straddled him, both hands now wrapping around Riggs’ throat with brutal intensity. The tiefling's face was impassive, but his grip told a different story.

Riggs gasped, his vision blurring at the edges as his air was cut off. His hands scrambled for purchase, his nails digging into Xul’s arms, but he didn’t fight back. He couldn’t. The thrill, the fear—it all blended together in his mind, overwhelming his senses.

“Is this what you wanted?” Xul asked, his voice a low, dangerous growl. His hands flexed, pressing harder against Riggs’ throat. “To push me until I snap?”

Riggs’ lips parted in a rasping gasp, his smirk long gone. Panic was starting to set in now, his body instinctively trying to fight for air. But he couldn’t stop the part of him that was still thrilled by the danger, by the way Xul’s eyes burned with fury.

“I’m… not… scared…” Riggs managed to choke out, though his voice was barely a whisper.

Xul’s expression didn’t change. If anything, his grip tightened even more, and Riggs’ vision began to fade. Black spots danced in front of his eyes, and the pressure in his head became unbearable. He felt his body start to go limp beneath Xul, his lungs screaming for air.

But Xul’s grip only tightened, cutting off Riggs' air. The pressure around his throat was intense, and for the first time in his life, Riggs felt real fear claw at him. This wasn’t a game anymore. Xul wasn’t teasing or playing along. This was something else, something terrifying.

Riggs’ heart pounded in his chest as his hands scrambled to pull Xul's grip away, but it was no use. Xul’s strength was overwhelming, and the look in his eyes... it was as if Riggs wasn’t even there anymore, like Xul was somewhere far darker, far colder.

“Xul—” Riggs gasped, but the words died in his throat as his vision began to blur. His head felt light, his lungs burning from the lack of air. Panic surged through him, a primal fear taking over as his body fought desperately to breathe.

The world around him started to fade, and Riggs’ body went slack as he felt himself slipping closer to unconsciousness. His mind raced, thoughts spiraling out of control. He was going to die. Xul was going to kill him.

But then, just as everything started to go black, he heard voices—faint at first, but growing louder, more urgent.

“Riggs! Riggs!”

Suddenly, the weight on his throat was gone. He gasped for air, his chest heaving as he coughed violently, his vision slowly clearing. When he opened his eyes, the room had shifted back to normal, and Xul was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, the rest of the group was gathered around him, their faces etched with concern. Ren knelt beside him, his hand on Riggs’ shoulder, shaking him gently. “Riggs, are you alright?”

Riggs blinked, confusion flooding his mind as he stared up at them. His throat burned, and when he reached up to touch it, his fingers brushed against deep, angry marks—marks that hadn’t been there before. His breath hitched as the realization settled in.

“What… what just happened?” Riggs whispered, his voice hoarse.

Greyson frowned, kneeling next to him. “We heard you screaming, and when we found you, you were thrashing on the floor like something had you.”

Riggs’ heart raced, the lingering terror gnawing at him. He shook his head, trying to make sense of what he had just experienced. “It was Xul… he was—he was choking me. I felt it. It was real.”

Greyson’s expression darkened, but he glanced at the others before speaking. “Xul wasn’t here, Riggs. You were alone when we came in.”

Riggs’ mind reeled, struggling to process the conflicting information. It had felt real—the hands around his throat, the weight of Xul’s body pinning him down. But as he looked around the room, Xul was nowhere in sight, and yet the marks on his neck were unmistakably there, red and raw.

Ren squeezed his shoulder gently. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t real. But those marks…”

Riggs swallowed hard, the fear still coursing through him. “It felt real,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I could’ve sworn it was him…”

The group exchanged uneasy glances, but no one said anything. Riggs sat there for a moment, his hands shaking slightly as he rubbed his sore neck. Everything felt so wrong, so twisted.