[Completed]
An alchemist who poisoned himself, an assassin who stabbed his own heart, an arsonist who burned herself, and a hero who couldn't defeat his inner monster.
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( A re-enact of Hades...
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Regulus was drowning, he didn't even know it yet. The boy only felt the invisible strings and pairs of rotten hands pulling him down to the pit of despair. It haunted his dreams, his fear wasn't death or being visited by Thanatos in his sleep to rake his soul out of his body; it was failing what he wished to do that he ruined his own oath to the devils.
Since he was younger Regulus was told he was different, he was an emerald rock between oceans of paper towns and monochrome world. The Slytherin boy was beyond everyone as his mother steered his life in the Black's monocle.
The truth, the boy had let himself rot inside out. He was drinking an elixir of despair all his life; he was never good enough, he was expected to be the best and yet the peak of his parent's satisfaction was out of his sight—it kept getting higher and higher. He was harming himself inside out, and he didn't know that parasite had feast on his soul—it latched on his skin so tightly, dragging him to the water.
He was neck-deep in the water that took over his being, but he didn't see it. He was tirelessly playing the decoy the parasite gave to him; his dominoes of feverish dreams to occupy his mind and masking his feelings with facades. The feeling was akin to being intoxicated over alcohol, he had no idea what he was doing until he became sober. But Regulus was never sober, not when he never stopped drinking.
Until a hurricane swept over his psyche and ruined the dominoes of priorities he built so dearly. She crashed and landed in the seven circles of hell, a foreign deity that he fucking despised at first. She ruined him and he was sure of it and then, the girl bloomed—she was a falling star and Elysium's core. Mortal curiosity took the best of him, and when it took over he began to ignore his dominoes.
The divine deity gave him a taste of Olympus's nectars by her presence, he began to see in colors he had never seen before. The world was no longer monochrome, towns were alive and he recognized sonder. Regulus was slowly pulled out of the water, and it relieved him as he was able to breathe.
But like a shot of morphine, reality hit him back. Regulus was a permanent resident of hell and while she was the most enchanting creature to set a throne in hell—he feared she would go away. It was logical that a flower did not bloom in the dark, she would wither with the absence of light sooner or later. He feared if she would leave him, he would be twice as empty as before.
He was not drowning in despair or darkness hell had created. Regulus was drowning in voidness and paranoia to lose her or let her go. This was the side effect of antidote that he didn't anticipate when he had allowed feelings and colors to encompassed his being. The forbidden fruit was too good to be true for him and the divine was about to punish him for stealing it.
