⚠️Currently under revision ⚠️ "Six Sides A' Die"-DevilDice 《Slow Updates》

9- Depression Confessions

Word count: 1208

Devil's Pov.

The only reason I crept out of my room is the fact that that nightmare woke me up, if you can call it a nightmare, that is. Could a "Nightmare" be a nightmare, if you almost wished it would happen?

Dream, wish, desire, nightmare.

It doesn't matter, the explanation to what played into me head as I slept, it still shook me up pretty bad, worse than I've had in a long time, and I had already lay up for hours.

I wandered out of my room, and out through the top floor of the casino, brushing my claws through my fur. It felt almost like a brush, and along with the steady pulse of my feet against the soft carpet, it made short work of calming me.

But I didn't feel like going back to my room yet. I wanted to wake up some more.

So I wandered down the stairs quietly. The carpet, which was thicker on the stairs than on both the higher and lower levels, sunk beneath my feet. It was soft and cold.

The first floor was dark and abandoned. The air was usually very warm and dry in the casino, being hell and all, but on nights like these, when it must be raining heavily in the isles of inkwell, the water evaporated and made the air in the casino hot, hummid, sticky, and suffocating.
It hit me harsher as I walked further away from the back of the casino. The moisture made some of my fur stick back in an odd position. So I continue to comb my hair back and walked towards the kitchen to get a cold drink to cancel out the humidity.

The casino, as mentioned before, was pitch black and dead silent.

So you could imagine how suprised I was when I drew closer to the kitchen, and I cought sound of a quiet, choppy sob.

At first I couldn't fathom who it would possibly be, all the staff members went home in excellent moods, today was payday, and so I listened closer.

And I noticed with a start that the undertones of the voice we're all too farmiliar. It was up and down, tenor and bells...

But it was not a happy sound.

I felt like I was intruding, and I briefly considered falling back into the heavy shadows, stalking away and trying to forget this.

But instead I felt myself step forward, my claws clicking ominously and faint on the tile. The breathing stopped, and a deep silence separated us. I blended in compleatly with the dark.

When I heard him release his breath, I moved again. This time I moved quieter. The noise gradually got louder as I stepped past the ovens and stoves, and I finally realized it must be coming from the far corner, in the spacious gap between the large siver refrigerators and the wall.

I stepped closer and as he was able to hear me once more his breath caught. I could see better in the dark than any of the other staff, and I grabbed his wrists softly and tugging on them as I began so sit.

He immediately took the defensive and slid his hands along my wrists, gripping them in a way that would allow him to twist me into submission and free himself. But he stopped when he felt the way my textured fur slid under the silk of his gloves, and he realized it was me.

I finished sitting crisscross and pulled him back down over me to sit in the empty space between my body and legs. I wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head gently into his shoulder in a calming gesture. Hell, my body doesn't hesitate to display the gesture, but my mind is moving slower than molasses creeping up a hill on a chilly winter morning.

It still felt odd though, it had been so long since I had last comforted any living thing. I still had half a mind to get up, get away, all the while scolding myself for being so impulsive. But I could tell he needed it. And besides, if this worked I could manage to get some info about Dice and them. And I'm a sucker for information.

He froze before cringing into me. I froze as well, second guessing this choice of mine yet again for just a moment. Small, quiet sobs escape him as he attempts to whisper out some sort of excuse for being this way. I hush him and rub my thumb over his hand. He calms down the slightest bit. It did bother me just a little to see him like this, I could admit to myself, it was so peculiar to so this side of the manager like this. I wanted to know why above anything else.

"Now, I want you to stay calm and answer me, why are you so upset?" He knew it was me, but he still flinched away when I spoke. He twisted around to the side, so he was facing me a little bit more.

He takes a deep breath. "I-I don't. Know. There are so many- reasons.
I can't. Possibly name anything important. But it's so much. Too. Much." He takes small gasping breaths between some of his sentences, not entirely broken from his panic. I could see his face flood with color, even in the lack of light.

"What's too much?" I ask. As far as I knew, things were going ok. His hand and shoulders tense, and he looks down, away from my view. His breath starts to hitch a bit.

"Nothing. Everything. Everything, I see everything. I'm always at the wrong place at the wrong time."
He takes a minute to calm himself. His breathing evens out for the most part, and he slouched into me a bit more.

"Ok. I want you to elaborate on 'everything'." I tell him, sitting back against the wall. He followed suit, resting his head gently on my chest.

He nods. "I watch a lot more than the others. I monitor the outside world more than them. But I never seem to catch a break, to see the happy moments. I saw the tail end of D2 mauling that poor yongue girl, with the brown hair. I saw the fight, fights, both of them... I know you know which ones I'm talking about, you're always the one who patches him up after." He explains. This time I am the one who looks away.

I knew very well what he meant.

The fight was awful, and right before closing. He was one of the only three staff members left on the clock at the time, which is likely what prompted the attack. The undersides of his arms were shredded with shards of shattered cups and bowls, but he got up, almost unaffected, and he hit the guy. The guy lashed out, scraping him over the face and neck with his nails. It was obvious from the look in the man's eyes that he was in pain, but he threw both words and hands fiercely at the manager until they were dragged apart, and the patron removed from the premises.

Not to mention the second fight, with the other die headed man.

"When D1 first met you, all I could feel from him was the absolute and consuming mindless fear that resonated from him. Where he lived before you snatched him off of that street. Even back as kid and-" he stops talking abruptly. The darkness consumed his words.

"'Back when he was a kid and', what?" I ask. I realized seconds later that my voice was slightly harsher than I intended. I can feel him shrink back under the sheer, cold pressure of my voice. He didn't mean to say that.

"I," he pauses again. "It's not something for me to tell you. You need to speak with him about this. You need him home..." He says, distant, a small sadness washing over him.

"I can leave. I can give up control for you, so he can come back," he rushes out, and he shifts his legs.

"Ok-" I begin, but he stops me.

Before he leaves, desserting me on the cold tile floor of the casino's sterile, white and silver kitchen, before he leaves to his room where, little to my knowledge, would be the last any one would see him for a while. Before he left me wide eyes and shocked, frozen with the suprise I felt, he twisted around in my arms. He placed his gloved hand firmly on the back of my neck and pulled me downward.

And he pressed his lips fiercely to mine.

...