diabolik lovers drabbles

~~Hope led astray~~ •Shin•

You were always running from something.

From your fears, your conflicts, your anxieties, yourself and now, him.

Thoughts tangled with one another, ears unable to receive any of the words he spoken — you lay bare on the cold dungeon floor.

It was foolish of you to even attempt an escape from the mansion.

You knew from the very beginning that it was futile.

There was no escaping from them.

His wolves picked up your plan and chased after you; blocking your way; ripping apart the flesh of your legs and let you be captured once again by him.

You saw him bending down to carress your cheek, the dim light shone upon the two of you before darkness enveloped your vision.

×××

You awoke to the howling of the wolves, gasps emitted and body drenched in fear.

It took you a second to realize they were far and you were alone in your chamber, exhaling a breathe of relief.

Placing an arm over your eyes, you chewed your worn lips in frustration as you listened to your own shaky breathes – soon to be followed by the rattling sounds of rain which started to pour in the middle of the darkest night.

You drowned yourself in the sea of desolation; no longer able to see the last sparkle of hope you held onto.

You were so lost;
lost in your thoughts,
in the darkness,
in the unknown.

The madness consuming you was put to stop by a creak of the door but it didn't necessarily put it to an end.

In fact, it only made everything worse.

"Oh, you're awake."

His despicable voice echoed throughout the room, the bed shifting in accordance to his position after he sat.

The wind passing outside the window and droplets sticked to its glass, you removed your arm from your face to clutch onto your clothes tight, preparing yourself for some sort of intense emotion blooming in your chest though there was none.

Have you gone used to the fear?

Realizing you had not a single thing left but a mere thought, you sneered as you decided to embrace it.

This is the last.

The last time you would hope for a miracle and weeped for the pain.

The first blood held your hand and you lay limp in his arms, eyelids closed as a pair of lips met your wounded back.

You were stuck in his sticky web once his arms completely wrapped themselves around you, poisonous fangs piercing your flesh.

Bathing in the pain he inflicted, your throat was too sore to even emit any more cries.

You had grown tired — too tired to even think about the pain.

One last symbol of your struggle dribbled down your cheek, joining the blood upon your neck.

If it could ever be granted, you hoped you could perish into dusts and go with the wind; flowing in accordance to its sways and returned to the galaxy.

"Your blood," he muttered, "...has gotten a lot better in taste."

The male withdrew from your neck and removed the strands of hair covering your face, touching your lips with his owns and made you taste your own blood.