Darkwood: Circus Inferno

Twisted Logic

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The dim glow of dawn seeped through the cracks of Onyx's window, casting a pale light across his room. Onyx sat alone, knees drawn up to his chest, eyes vacant as he stared out, lost in a storm of emotions. Shadows clung to him, accentuating the exhaustion etched into his face and the weight he carried in his gaze.

Travis’s death had hit him like a tidal wave. The memory of their last encounter, a bitter exchange that had erupted into violence, haunted him. It had been a mistake, he told himself—just a flash of anger that boiled over. But now, the reality gnawed at him like a relentless beast: that might have been his last chance to make things right.

A familiar, chilling presence slid into the room, making the air go cold and still. Achelios, his twisted reflection, lingered just within the dim light. His eyes gleamed with a cruel curiosity, lips curled into a knowing, almost indulgent smile.

“Why do you torture yourself with guilt, Onyx?” Achelios’s voice was silk laced with poison. “He had it coming, that much you know.”

Onyx’s gaze hardened, but his shoulders remained slumped, weighed down by his thoughts. “Just because we argued... just because he hurt me... it doesn’t mean he deserved to die.” His voice was barely a whisper, but each word was tinged with regret.

Achelios chuckled, the sound low and mocking. He leaned against the wall, folding his arms as he watched Onyx with cold amusement. “Why shouldn’t it? He caused you pain, stirred that fury you try so hard to bury.” Achelios’s tone grew softer, almost coaxing. “You’ve always tried to be kind, forgiving… But where has that ever gotten you?”

Onyx flinched, hating the twisted logic that Achelios offered but unable to completely dismiss it. The darkness within him flickered, tempted by the suggestion that Travis’s end was somehow deserved.

“You know what I am,” Achelios continued, prowling closer, his voice dripping with malice. “I am the voice that speaks the truth when everyone else lies to you. You felt satisfaction when you fought back against him. You tasted justice. Don’t deny it.”

Onyx’s face twisted in pain, but he clenched his fists tightly, struggling to hold onto his own truth. “No, that wasn’t justice… it was anger. It was something I lost control over.”

Achelios scoffed, his form shifting, his eyes narrowing as he crouched beside Onyx, his breath cold against Onyx’s skin. “Control?” He spat the word like a curse. “Look where control has gotten you—a lifetime of betrayal, hurt, and loneliness. Travis was nothing more than a parasite, feeding off the goodness you tried so hard to give. And look where it got you.”

The words slipped through the cracks in Onyx's resolve, seeping into his heart like a dark poison. Achelios’s voice was seductive, offering a twisted freedom—a release from the endless cycle of guilt and pain. Part of him wanted to believe Achelios, to absolve himself of responsibility, to think of Travis’s death as a fate deserved. But he couldn’t let go of the feeling that if he did, he would lose something of himself in the process.

“I don’t want to be like you, Achelios,” Onyx said, voice quivering but firm. “I don’t want to let that darkness control me.”

Achelios’s smile faded, replaced by a flash of irritation. “You already are like me, Onyx. You just refuse to accept it. Embrace it, and you’ll find freedom. Release the chains of guilt; let them fall away, and you’ll finally see how powerful you truly are.”

Onyx closed his eyes, feeling the familiar ache in his chest, the pull between his desire for release and his need to hold onto his own sense of humanity. Achelios was right, in a twisted way—part of him had felt justified, vindicated in that brief, heated fight with Travis. But Travis’s death had changed everything. He couldn’t let that moment define him.

Achelios’s voice softened again, coaxing and smooth. “In the end, Onyx, you did what you had to. And deep down, you know he deserved it.”

Onyx opened his eyes, meeting Achelios’s gaze with newfound resolve. “No. He didn’t deserve to die, not by my hands or anyone else’s. Maybe I don’t have control over everything… but I have control over who I choose to be. And I’m choosing to be better than you.”

A flicker of irritation crossed Achelios’s face, but it was quickly replaced by his usual smirk. “Suit yourself, then. Deny me all you want.” He leaned back, retreating into the shadows. “But remember, Onyx, I’ll always be here, waiting for the day you see the world as I do.”

With that, Achelios vanished, leaving the room silent once more. Onyx sat alone, heart pounding, but a spark of strength glowed faintly within him. He knew the battle with his own darkness was far from over, but for now, he had won this round. And for now, that was enough.

Onyx stayed curled on the edge of his bed, Achelios’s words echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain. His reflection’s twisted reasoning lingered, clouding his thoughts and making him question himself in ways he wished he could ignore. Part of him was tempted to believe what Achelios had said—that perhaps Travis’s death was justified, that the anger he’d felt was righteous. But as the silence deepened, Onyx felt his conscience push back, reminding him of the values he tried so hard to uphold. If he embraced Achelios’s view, he feared he’d be giving up a part of himself he couldn’t afford to lose.

The door creaked open, pulling him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Ren standing there, his gaze soft and concerned. Without a word, Ren crossed the room and sat beside him, wrapping his arms around Onyx in a gentle, grounding embrace. Onyx closed his eyes, breathing in Ren’s warmth, feeling the solid presence anchor him.

“Hey,” Ren murmured, his hand softly stroking Onyx’s back. “I’ve been worried about you.”

Onyx exhaled a shuddering breath, leaning into the touch as if it was the only thing holding him together. “I… I just keep thinking… If I hadn’t fought with Travis that day… maybe things would be different. Maybe he wouldn’t have…”

Ren hushed him gently, pulling him closer. He placed a kiss on Onyx’s forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment as he pressed the worry away. “It’s okay to feel that way, Onyx. It’s natural. But you can’t keep punishing yourself. No one could have known what would happen.”

The guilt gnawed at Onyx’s heart, but Ren’s arms around him provided a warmth he didn’t want to lose. Slowly, he looked up, meeting Ren’s understanding gaze. “Achelios… he tried to make me think Travis deserved what happened,” Onyx confessed, voice thick with emotion. “And for a moment, I almost believed him.”

Ren’s eyes darkened at the mention of Achelios, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he gently cupped Onyx’s face, thumbs tracing soothing circles on his cheeks. “You’re not Achelios, Onyx,” he whispered, his voice firm yet tender. “You’re a good person who made a mistake in a heated moment. That doesn’t mean you wanted this or that you deserved to carry this pain alone.”

Onyx’s throat tightened, the words he’d held back breaking through as tears welled in his eyes. He leaned into Ren, who placed soft kisses along his forehead, his cheeks, his lips—each kiss a quiet promise, a reminder that he didn’t have to carry this weight by himself.

Ren’s voice softened, full of unwavering compassion. “You’re stronger than he’ll ever be. And whatever you’re feeling now, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”

Onyx let himself fall deeper into Ren’s embrace, feeling the warmth seep into his bones and chase away the lingering chill Achelios’s words had left. Ren’s gentle reassurances and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against him grounded him, reminded him of who he truly was. With Ren, the darkness within him didn’t feel quite as consuming, and for the first time that day, Onyx allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to let go.