POV: Cabil
Location: Louxven, Dyonegar
That Evening...
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In the still night, a static resonance, a film of coarse black covered enclosed walls. The hollow darkness immersed him as he sat there, wrists and ankles bound to the extremities of a wooden chair. With the seam of unconsciousness disturbed by a slamming door, he opened his eyes, the blur clearing to reveal his inescapable dilemma. Sweat streamed down his fore, the heat around him rising. His head slung over his naked torso as he looked down to his bare feet. Mouth dry, his attempt in talking translated into a cough. And as he coughed, his chest burned, almost as if his wounds tore open. The echo of approaching footsteps triggered a vigilant Cabil as he writhed and bucked against the rope, jerking his head back to plunge himself backward.
"Nah, ugh, ah…" she retorted, pushing his chair back up, leveling Cabil. "We can't have you breaking out, now, can we?" She slipped her head over his shoulder, a dreadful expression burrowed in his face.
Cat-skull.
"You little bitch!" He cringed, his chest heaving in and out from the uproar of pain in his chest.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" The torturess withdrew from him, merry in her step. "I mean, how can you be an elite and get caught off guard like that?" She chuckled. "God, it's almost embarrassing."
"What the hell is this?" Anxiety pumped through his fired veins. His eyes zipped to and fro, studying the room in its immenseness. Nothing, just a blackened vastness with no end. Burn through it all, he thought, tightening his fists, summoning its power, but no flame would erupt. Inches away from madness, he strained every muscle in his body to break free, but the pain in his chest became too excruciating to bear.
"My, aren't we sinking to an all-time low? The almighty Hargann has fallen! Well, how about we pick you up? Reel you in from your pathetic state of succumbence."
His body tightened, bracing for an inevitable impact as he suddenly felt a blade plunge between his shoulders. His body jolted forward, a grunt breaking through his gritted teeth. And he gave his tormentor nothing more, nothing to satisfy her sadistic pleasure.
"How can you protect your dear sister if you can't even protect yourself?" She withdrew the blade and sank it through his flesh again.
"Fuck you."
"So sad. Pitiful really. You could have been an S tier soldier, but now, you're just a class A washout!" She stabbed. Another, and another, and another—lung collapsed, muscles torn, bones shattered. He felt the river of red beginning to soak his soles downstream. Maybe this was fitting—a punishment for his weakness. Maybe it was time to let it all go, fade into the abuse, indulge in defeat. As he slipped into sweet despair, a crooked grin cracked upon his swollen face. Acceptance, the only answer—
"Don't listen to her, Cabil."
He gasped, the familiar voice caressing his broken spirit into a full-blown repair. His eyes widened, now on his bed, seated upright, clothed in his sleeping slacks. The morning sun washed over him like a warm shower. Stretching his arm against the windowsill, he sighed in relief, realizing it was all just a dream. His hands fell over his chest, soon accompanied by a slithering touch. She snaked her arms underneath his, a feeling that left him crippled every time. Her breasts cushioned on his bare back as she perched her cheek on the nape of his neck. "You've gone so far, done so much," she whispered, straddling him as her lips grazed over his shoulder, her fingers combing through his tousled hair. Cabil winced, feeling her hot breath over his neck as she kissed him gently.
"Stop this…" he begged, his body craving her warmth.
"You're not weak, Cabil. You're strong, brave." Her compliments cleaved a complexity of raw emotions as her tongue coiled about his looped earring. Frantic, he conquered, slamming her against the bed, his grip fastened around her neck as he straddled her.
"Stop it." The depth in his voice trembled a threat, her soft eyes never moving away from him. He absorbed her angelic yet carnal beauty, from the silky lucid lace gown dangling over her naked mound, to that fixed lustful stare. She was tempting, tormenting, taboo.
"Don't you want me?" She caressed his face. "For once, just let out all the pent-up frustration. Stop resisting."
Exposed, this wild desire left him vulnerable. A place of no return, and this, its catalyst—this sultry seductress now grazing her leg against his growing member. It hurt, the insatiable craving, this desire to drive his piece into her untouched cherry, over, and over, and over again. He could already taste her sex as she parted her legs, her blooming heat ready to be devoured. His lips stroked hers lightly, and with a heavy breath, he urged himself. "I can't do this. Not to you." As he pulled away from her, a surge of pain hunched him over and snatched his chest, a splatter of red coating his fingertips from that once gaping wound—
Then, like a million needles on his back, he jumped up on his bed, face completely flushed. Was he… finally awake? He touched his chest—nothing. The wound, all psychological, yet very much real. Catching his breath, he squinted his eyes to the brightness of his room. And he sat there, trying to distract himself with the sound of the morning commune that bubbled beyond his room walls from the thoughts of her.
For fuck's sake, just one night without all of that…
He delivered his morning routine and got dressed for battle after noticing the alert in his pad. As soon as he left his bedroom, he spotted Syreene standing in the living room with a letter in her hand. Cabil walked over to the front door as quickly and indifferently as he could, giving her not even a passing glance. But of course, his sister wouldn't let him just waltz out of the apartment without saying something…
"Well, good morning to you too, bro," Syreene called out to him with sass in her voice. "Narus already left. Something about business in the temple. Where are you going?"
Cabil gripped the doorknob with a certain misguided abhorrence that forced him to keep his gait forward. Beneath his breath, he answered, "Out. Aeg—"
"—You're not going out to fight, are you?" She cut him off, grabbing his wrist. "You just got out of a serious injury, Cabil! They can't expect you to go into battle right now."
"I'm fine."
"Are you really? You're only human. You need to give yourself time to recuperate."
She triggered him. Cabil pulled his arm in before he thrusted her against the floor. He glared her down, his voice cold, "Hmph, only human, huh? You need to learn to mind your own damn business." Slamming the door behind him, he tightened his face, trying to brush off the terrified look on his sister before he left.
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