The house was identical to the one you had originally lived in with your demonic boyfriend, even down to the various appliances. Though which house came first, Anti did not know nor care. He knew what he was looking for.
His eyes scanned the living room for any sign of you, and finding none he wandered around slowly. Dark might have hidden you easily; he would have known the house better than anyone. The dark-haired demon had built it himself.
A low groaning sort of noise was coming from down the hallway, and Anti followed it eagerly enough. A small part of him, an insistent one, demanded that he leave. Who the fuck cared if the stupid bitch was hurt? He could just as easily do more damage, just because he could. It would be fun!
But the demon shook his head and ignored the pressing thoughts, instead following the sounds. But once he reached the bedroom his gut began to churn violently, and he clapped one hand over his mouth to prevent him from vomiting.
Anti had tortured an awful lot of humans in his time. He had seen many twisted and vile things. But to see you lying in a blood-drenched bed with both of your legs burned to a crisp- where the hell were your feet?!- made his stomach uneasy. If it had been him doing the torture, he supposed it wouldn't have bothered him quite as much.
The question was, why did it bother him so?
That's what I'd like to fucking know.
Slowly he crept his way into the room, taking one slow step at a time. Nearby, a whip lay on the wooden floor. Blood was splattered all across the walls, the bed, even a few droplets on the ceiling.
Fucking hell!!
"Anti?" Your voice broke him through his thoughts, and he came to your side, sighing through his nose and frowning deeply. He wasn't sure what to do except to untie you. But you simply lay in the bed, far too immobilized by the pain to want to move. "I thought... he came back..." you mumbled. Your vision was hazy from the pain, and it took all your willpower not to move too much.
So caught up were you in what had just happened to your body that you were certain it had been Dark who kicked the front door open. Knowing it was Anti brought a great wave of relief, and tears rolled down your face.
His rough hands wiped them away, frowning still. There was a problem. "I can heal your wounds, but..."
But? There wasn't supposed to be a "but". Swallowing you tried to sit up, a bolt of agonizing pain shooting through both of your legs and making you give up instantly. "Th-then heal them," you begged weakly. "Please."
Anti grimaced and searched the room for... something. When he didn't find whatever it was he was looking for he returned to your side and lay a hand over yours. "You won't walk anymore. I can't find your fucking..."
What? This time you did manage to sit up, fresh blood oozing from the burnt ends of your legs. "Wh-what the hell do you mean I won't walk anymore?"
The demon didn't speak any further, withdrawing his blade and slicing his throat wide open. You squeezed your eyes shut to look away, throat full of bile, but the sensation of being healed quickly calmed you down some.
Pain muted beneath the coat of blood that he smeared onto your wounds, you began to cry in earnest. "Please... Anti, tell me you can fix this...!"
He turned away as his own wound healed on it's own. The demon remained silent, frowning, unable to face you. Him, a demon, unable to be honest to a stupid human! It was terrible!
"Anti," you spat out, getting angrier that he wasn't replying.
"I fucking can't! I can't fix you! Don't you fUCkiNg get that?!" His body began to glitch back and forth, unstable. "I can heal your wounds but I can't regrow body parts! Fuck!" Running hands through his hair he tugged at it a little. "If I fucking could, don't you think I would have by now?!"
All you could do was sob. Free of the awful pain and no longer bound to the bed you curled up, despite the blood seeping into the mattress. In the back of your mind you vaguely wondered what your boyfriend had done with the bottom portion of your legs, but it no longer mattered.
Anti watched you cry, for once in his life feeling completely useless to help you. Despite that small, angry part of him that vehemently argued with his thoughts the demon sat beside you. One hand lay on your shoulder. "I..." What could he say? "I'm s.... sorry. I'm sorry," he managed, damn near choking on the words he had never spoken before.
You shoved his hand away, not wanting to be touched by anybody. In response, the green-haired demon stood back up and watched you cry for a little while longer. Then he bent down, scooping you up and into his arms.
Shrieking you laced your fingers together behind his neck, trying to keep upright. "Anti, what the--"
"We've got to move," he muttered through gritted teeth. Swiftly he carried you out of the house and kept on walking, towards what you could only assume to be the next gate. But was he really insistent on carrying you the entire way? "It isn't like we have a choice," he spat. "If we don't keep moving he's bound to catch up. I don't know what he'll do to you if he does."
But you paused. "He'll catch up either way, won't he? Once we reach the Sea?"
Anti swallowed, keeping his expression calm. What he was planning, he would never tell you.
The two of you remained silent for a long time. The demon didn't seem bothered by the fact that he was carrying you the entire way, and eventually you grew sleepy. With no pain to disrupt you, you dozed in his hold, head resting against his shoulder.
Anti relished the silence, and yet he loathed it as well. All sorts of ways to kill you ran through his mind; this was Violence, after all. And how fun would it have been to watch you suffer?
No. I can't... no. I'm not like him. I won't fucking kill you. I refuse to.
I won't hurt her. I love her too much to--
Anti stopped dead in his tracks. That was it, wasn't it? The demon, usually so unfeeling and terrible, had been weak enough to fall for a human.
