ToxiQue

Awakening the Beast in him

The blows, the yelling—those are all Felix has to endure. The twisted comfort he finds in the pain reminds him he’s still human, that he’s still alive, despite being trapped in this suffocating place. He sits there, letting the fan lull him into a trance, imagining his escape, planning it over and over again. The bruise throbs, a dull ache, but Felix smiles slightly. The pain is his rebellion, his reminder that he hasn’t given up yet.

Yohan’s control over him is fierce, but Felix’s desire to escape is fiercer. He knows he can’t stay in this twisted existence forever. It’s only a matter of time before he finds a way out, no matter what it takes. He won’t let himself forget—there’s a world outside this room, a life waiting for him. The bruises will fade, but his will to survive won’t.

Yoan had granted Felix small privileges, knowing they would make him less defiant, but the latter saw through every one of them. The first was that Felix was no longer confined to his room. He could now wander through the upper and lower floors of the house, a subtle illusion of freedom. Yet, the heavily locked main gate was a constant reminder that no matter how far he roamed inside, escape was still impossible. The house itself became just a bigger cage.

The second privilege was Yoan’s sudden respect for Felix’s privacy. Unlike Havana, where Felix had been constantly on edge, feeling like nothing more than an object of desire, Yoan never came into his room uninvited again. Felix had made it clear that he hated being touched in any intimate way, and Yoan, for all his cruelty, respected that boundary. It was strange, almost unsettling, how this simple act of distance felt like a victory to Felix. At least he wasn’t a pleasure tool, anymore ,something to be used at Yoan’s whim. That alone gave him a sense of control he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Lastly, Felix had access to anything he wanted. Expensive food, luxurious clothes, entertainment—anything he could ask for, Yoan would provide. But none of it meant anything to Felix. The only thing he truly desired was freedom, and that was the one thing Yoan would never grant him. The clothes felt like chains, the food tasted like ash. Every luxury was a reminder of how trapped he still was, no matter how much Yoan tried to make him comfortable.

These "pretty privileges" were nothing more than distractions, attempts to soften Felix's rebellion, but Felix was too clever to be fooled. No amount of comfort could replace the burning need for freedom. And until he had that, everything Yoan gave him was worthless.
And so... Felix planned. For an entire month, he observed every detail, memorizing the rhythms of the house, the habits of the people who moved through it. He noticed how the electric gates opened whenever the food courier arrived, offering a brief window where freedom was just a step away. Felix had timed it perfectly—today, the shift belonged to the tired old man, the one whose age and fatigue often got the better of him. Felix had watched him doze off during his shifts, oblivious to everything around him. It was risky, but this was his chance.

Even better, Yohan wouldn’t be home today. Felix knew his schedule by heart. No sudden returns, no surprise visits. The house would be empty except for a few staff members who barely paid attention to him anymore. The gates, the old man, Yohan’s absence—everything aligned perfectly. The timing couldn’t be more ideal.

Felix's heart raced, not from fear, but from anticipation. He knew this was his moment. He would have to be fast, precise, and ruthless if necessary. Every step he had rehearsed in his mind over and over again. For the first time in a long time, he felt something close to hope. Today wasn’t just another day in captivity. Today, Felix was going to walk out of this place.

As Felix runs, down the hill, past the first gate,his body becomes a blur of motion against the dark backdrop of the night. The rhythmic pounding of his feet on the hard, icy ground matches the frantic beating of his heart. Suddenly, he feels a sharp sting around his neck, a jolt of pain that radiates through his skin. This was just too easy, how he slipped past the defences in ease. And he he knows, but he had to time to double think why this was just a too good to be deal

He gasps, instinctively reaching for the source, his fingers brushing against a cold metal collar clasped tightly around his throat. The sensation spreads like wildfire, a bolt of lightning, an electric jolt coursing through his body that seizes him entirely. The impact is so intense that he instinctively jerks, his muscles spasming in response to the overwhelming sensation.

He realizes that the source of this torment is the necklace Yoan had given him—a seemingly innocent piece of jewelry now transformed into an instrument of pain.

With a final, shuddering gasp, he collapses into the snow, the world around him fading into darkness. Tears stream down his cheeks, mingling with the cold flakes, as the realization settles in—his escape has failed. The hope that once propelled him forward dissolves into the night, leaving him vulnerable and defeated, alone in the stillness of the unforgiving cold.

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