Darkwood: Circus Inferno

The Truth about Achelios

Ren sat at the edge of the bed, his hands clasped tightly together, his fingers digging into the skin of his palms as he watched Onyx from the corner of his eye. The silence between them was suffocating. It had been days since the battle with the Ringmaster, days since Onyx’s transformation, and Ren was no closer to breaking through to him than when they first arrived.

Onyx sat across from him, distant, detached, his eyes staring into nothing, his posture stiff and cold as ever. It was as though he had built an impenetrable fortress around himself, one that Ren couldn’t breach, no matter how hard he tried.

Ren’s breath hitched in his chest as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “Onyx… Please, just talk to me. I—I can’t do this anymore. I need to know what’s going on in your head. What you’re feeling. You’re not alone, I promise. You don’t have to keep pushing everyone away.”

Onyx didn’t look at him, didn’t even acknowledge his words. His eyes remained vacant, distant. Ren could feel the weight of his gaze, though it wasn’t focused on him. It was as if Onyx wasn’t even there, lost somewhere far away, swallowed by his own pain.

Ren’s breath shuddered. His voice cracked as he continued, the words slipping out more desperately now, like he was grasping at the tiniest thread of hope. “I know it’s hard, Onyx. But we’re here for you. I’m here for you. Please, let me in.”

Finally, Onyx shifted slightly. But it wasn’t to face Ren—it was a subtle movement, his eyes narrowing just slightly, as if he was waiting for Ren to continue.

Ren swallowed hard, his chest tightening. “I can’t help you if you won’t let me in. You have to open up. Tell me what’s wrong. What’s going on in your head. Please.”

For a long, agonizing moment, the silence stretched on, only the quiet hum of the mortuary’s creaky wooden floorboards accompanying the tension. Ren watched Onyx, hoping for even the smallest sign that he was listening, that his words were reaching him.

Then, Onyx finally spoke, his voice cold and dismissive, cutting through the silence like a blade.

“You want to know what’s going on in my head?” Onyx’s tone was sharp, bitter. “You really want to know? Fine. Let’s start with what Achelios fed me. All those confessions you all made, how you really feel about me. How much of a burden I am. How much I’ve ruined your lives. What a disappointment I’ve turned out to be.”

Ren’s breath hitched, his heart sinking at Onyx’s words, his stomach tightening into a painful knot. He shook his head, trying to find the right words, to reassure him, but Onyx was relentless.

“Oh, and let’s not forget Tixo,” Onyx continued, his voice mocking now. “His lovely outburst, calling me a mistake. Telling me I should have never been born.”

Ren’s eyes welled up, his chest aching with the weight of Onyx’s words. He wanted to scream, to argue, but Onyx wasn’t giving him a chance.

“You think I don’t remember that?” Onyx’s tone was biting, raw, as he turned his head slightly toward Ren, though his eyes remained distant. “I heard every word. Every damn word. You’re all just like me. Broken. Trapped in your own pain. And you think you can help me?”

Ren’s hands trembled, and he stood up, pacing around the room, unable to stay still in the face of Onyx’s harsh accusations. “No. No, you’re wrong, Onyx. You’ve got it all wrong. We—I—never meant any of that. I never said any of those things. Achelios twisted everything. Tixo, he—he didn’t mean it. You have to know that.”