Trahison

Chapter 1(✔️)

Chat Blanc

I tensed and tugged viciously at the rusted metal chains cupped around my wrist. Finding my feet under me, I struggled to gain balance and pulled harder, pushing out my legs to increase the force. Anger and pure frustration boiled inside of me. Even with my night vision, I couldn't see anything. It's pitch black. The metal clanged loudly against the cold stone walls every time I struggled, something that made me more furious by the minute. Letting out a low growl of annoyance I put more strength into into the battle.

I felt so stupid! Why did I have to jump into that black void? I should've known it was a trap! I was just so caught up in that moment — when the akuma was catching up to Ladybug, trying to figure out my tangle of emotions as she left me on my own. As she lied and used me. As she thought she could do everything, all on her own.

I should have been better than that.

I paused, clenched my eyes shut and heaved in a deep breath of air. No. I wasn't thinking properly. She was my partner, and she wished to be independent. Yes — that was it. That's all.

I groaned at the soreness from my wrists, and prop myself up against the wall. It's iciness was seeping into my skin and taking the warmth away. I realised that I was panting, and that my efforts were getting me nowhere. Not matter what, the stupid chains wouldn't budge.

My messy hair drooped all over my face as I relaxed my aching muscles, gathering myself back together and counting slowly to nine.

One, I breathed slowly.

Two, Everything was going to be alright.

Three, I'm going to get myself out of here, no matter the cost.

Four, I shut my eyes slowly and imagined Ladybug's masked blue eyes staring back at me with a encouraging smile.

Five, I clenched my gloved hands.

Six, Paris needs me.

Seven, Ladybug needs me.

Eight, some people still care.

Nine. My life as Chat Noir is still continuing on.

It's a strategy that reminded me of my mother. She was the one who helped me through my life until she left — disappeared. Sometimes I wonder why she left. Was it because of our family? Was it because of my father? Was it because of her claustrophobia? Was it because of her longing for freedom?

Or was it... because of me?

I know I shouldn't blame myself, but I do. If it weren't for me, I don't think they would've had that argument that I had heard the last time mother was still here. If it weren't for me, I don't think that father would hate me. If it weren't for me, then maybe she wouldn't have had gone away.

One year ago.

The anger nagged at me again, and I embraced it.

Anger was easier to feel then sadness, emptiness. Anger usually sparked up adrenaline inside me, and that's what I needed to free myself.

It was also something that I had plenty of these couple of days.

Gritting my teeth, I yanked on the chains yet again. The metal clanked, and I could hear the sharp screeching of it bending, but it showed no promise of breaking.

I try again, the chains creak again and my frustration begins to surge.

Tugging again, my sensitive hearing picks up on the small sounds on splintering, then the sharp pain erupting from my wrist causes me to bite my tongue back from another growl. Teeth puncturing the flesh accidentally, the metallic taste of blood gags my mouth, making me want to choke on the substance.