twisting and convulsing

Still Around

A phone call would have been easier.

Vlad stood at the door, internally debating if it was worth it to knock. The only reason he knew where to go was because of the information Talon had provided. Vlad’s other personality had heartlessly taken advantage of the other’s curse and asked of the locations where Talon took up residence.

And so here he stood; emerald eyes flickering across the door.

Maybe Talon would understand; the assassin seemed to have his own personal experience with what greyface magic could do.

But Vladimir had mercilessly tortured him.  And any recollection of the events caused a horrendous twisted guilt to convulse within his chest. Vlad inflicted horrendous amounts of pain; driving unforgiving blades into various points upon the assassin’s body. After losing significant amounts of blood and becoming disconnected from several fingers, Talon had fallen unconscious. And leading up to that point, Vladimir had taken complete advantage of the other’s curse; causing Talon to relinquish any and all information Vladimir had requested.

Humiliating and personal information spilled from the assassin’s lips simply because Vladimir had asked.

That personality had relished in every single answer - not for the information gleaned, but for the fact that the assassin was helpless to stop it.

Sadistic fuck.

Vladimir had taken Talon’s soul; the luminous essence had permanently fused to Vlad’s being. A thing - stolen - that couldn’t be returned. A permanent reminder of what had happened.

What he had done.

The other personality had done to Talon what Vlad had intended to never, ever do: take complete and unconditional control over the other’s body.

Vlad lifted his knuckle to the door; hovering precariously inches away from the surface.

Another moment of hesitation.

And then–

knock-knock-knock

–three rasps against the door; the sound penetrating the silence.

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