accipe me | Yumark

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Yuta couldn't believe what he heard.

I sold my soul to the Wicca.

I can't quite remember how it happened, nor when, nor why. All I can recall is waking up to the bright blue eyes of the devil and Her sickening call.

They told me about the power I could have: the help I could provide people like me. They told me all it took would be a single drop of blood and a few words at the witching hour: accipe me.

So I did it.

But I shouldn't have.

Once I said those words, what's mine was theirs. My heart, body, brain, blood, clothes, possessions, hobbies, interests; none of them belonged to me anymore.

I was just young, and so my magic was fresh - my blood was clean.

And they loved it.

The smell, the feel, the taste of my blood on their tongues was intoxicating. Wherever I was, they would come and use me. I was their own personal drug. I hated it.

Lucien was the worst. Like you saw there, he is able to induce irrational fear onto anybody that looks into his eyes. It weakens you, both mentally and physically, reducing you down into your worst horrors and doubts.

He would use that to take advantage of me, because he knew that when I was in that state of mind, I wouldn't be able to fight back against him.

Years this went on. Years I cried, screamed, and even tried to end my suffering, but they would always stop me, calm me, and say, this is what you signed up for, before leaving me all alone again.

But one day, I ran away. I don't know how I did it, but they couldn't find me.

I found the sun goddess Dami and she made me a string of ivory beads, each one bewitched with a different incantation, some so ancient that even She would have trouble dissolving them.

Those beads allowed me to stay hidden from those two, but now they've found me.

Somehow they've found me through you.

Those beads are the only things stopping my soul from shattering at her hands, and I'm afraid until I relocate and vanish from your life completely, you're not going to be truly safe.

Yuta sat back for a moment.

But you're not the first.

And you probably won't be the last.

The last time somebody got mixed up in my affairs, I lost them.

Yuta...

I don't want to lose you too.

It was hard to believe this was all true, but Mark had evidence. On his tongue and neck were small, almost unnoticeable scares, just like he had told him earlier.

There was a dark mark on the palm of his hand from trying to save his friend, like he had said.

...

He wasn't going to be safe.

Yuta cleared his throat. "So... what are you going to do?"

Mark pulled a cushion over his face. Honestly, he had no idea.

It took him two years to conjure up a plan good enough to get him out, and even then it nearly backfired. Plus, he wasn't exactly as strong as he was back then, what with all the spells he was forced to perform and perfect on a daily basis.

It made Mark queasy just thinking about life in the coven again. Early mornings, late nights, taxing rituals, earpiercing screams--

No. Just, no.

"Okay," Yuta said slowly. He sat forward in his chair and leaned his arms on his knees, watching the witch intently. "And what can I do?"

Mark turned his head. "You?"

Yuta nodded. "If I'm going to be a part of this whether I want to be or not, I might as well make a difference."

Mark stared at him.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"But..." the Canadian swallowed thickly and pushed up so he was sitting straight. A cushion fell from his lap to the floor, and he picked it up, hugging it into his chest. "You could die."

Yuta just shrugged. "It seems like that'll happen either way."

Mark couldn't believe it.

He was helping?

Mark found himself smiling. Why did that affect him so much?

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