Sans AU One-Shots

Killer❀ || dolls. (pt. 2)

This depicts a radioactive level of toxicity - bad people, bad scenarios, bad choices - and none of this is meant to be romanticized, only explored. Trauma manifests in many ways, and its psychological effects are fascinating, especially when you combine many different flavors together under one roof in the form of the Bad Sanses.

Length: 8.3k + 11k + 13.2k = 32.5k words
Notes: Main tw: sexual servitude/prostitution, but viewer discretion is advised for all of this, so if you're easily disturbed, you should steer clear.

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My whole body ached like hell, but I couldn't stop running, chasing Killer down side streets and dirt pathways and cobblestone walkways while on the verge of collapse, clawing oxygen into my burning lungs with heaving breaths that did nothing to cool the fire in my muscles. I didn't need to glance over my shoulder to know the Royal Guard was hot on our heels, and that if I got caught, I was as good as dead. Though at the moment, death sounded like a blessing compared to the miserable existence I was prolonging by fighting so hard.

Killer ducked down an alcove cut out of the cobblestone like he teleported out of sight, and I had to flail an arm out to grab the corner in order to stop myself from shooting right past it. Before I came to a stop, he grabbed me and hauled me inside, tucking me against his equally out of breath body while the guards raced past. My mouth was pressed against his shirt, the air I attempted to suck in blocked by the fabric, and I fought to get free, smacking his ribs with my fists as my lungs burned like fire.

"Do you want to get caught?" Killer hissed in my ear, wrapping his arms around me tighter to keep us both firmly in the shadows, but I was on the verge of passing out from running for so long already, I couldn't handle this too. The last of the guards passed like thunder and I immediately brought my nails down in a slash across his target soul, causing him to flinch and finally release me so I could pull in a gasp of air. I stumbled away from him, lightheaded and feeling nearly high with relief.

But my breath escaped me in a gust as Killer suddenly shoved a knife under my neck, silencing my celebration before I could even fully appreciate it. I couldn't see his expression, only the red soul hovering in front of his chest spasming from the unexpected attack, warping and shifting like the magic itself was fluctuating. The clinking of armor behind me caught my attention and I peeked outside our little alcove to see a guard slowly tailing after the others, his short, stumpy legs doing him no favors.

When he disappeared, the blade under my neck did too, and I felt I could breathe normally for the first time in hours. "They were persistent," Killer grumbled, his soul tilted downward like he was hunched over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

"You ever botched an assassination like that before?" I asked, leaning back against the dark cobblestone wall to enjoy the cool rock on my sweaty body.

I felt his glare. "I didn't 'botch it'. The King or whatever is dead."

"That's an execution. An assassination is meant to be silent, and you're supposed to be gone by the time they notice."

"You're thinking of the connotation of the word, not the denotation. Both work just fine to describe murder, which is what I did to the monarch guy."

"You did murder?"

"I did, as a matter of fact." The smirk came through in his voice as he stood tall, the knife in his hand whistling as it cut through the air. I rolled my eyes, hearing him chuckle like he could predict my expressions just as clearly as I could predict his.

"I'll be lucky if the Boss doesn't do a murder to me tonight," I muttered, hearing him chuckle quietly before he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and hugged me to his side.