Chapter 10

  (𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬)
This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes such as Twisted Religious aspects, Cult indoctrination , Gore, Psychological Horror and Death.

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“What the fuck is this?” Your stomach contorted into knots, a faint retch escaping you as your tongue instinctively probed the peculiar object lodged within your mouth.

It tasted exquisite though; a viscous, thick liquid coated it with an inexplicably delectable flavor that warred with your revulsion. 

Yzrivis’ gaze lingered on the way your expression curdled into a mask of pure, unadulterated disgust. “Seriously, what the fuck is this—”

“Language.” A frown folded over Yzrivis’ pale features. Ah.. right, he hates it when you curse, how could you have forgotten?

Though, before you could flinch away, his fingers seized your jaw, thumb and forefinger pressing into your cheek in an insidiously tender grip that nonetheless coerced your lips into a pout.

“And don’t speak with your mouth full,” Yzrivis admonished, as the hollow in his socket began to knit itself shut.

Then, he finally removed his hand from your eyes. “You swallow before you question me.”

“…Sorry,” came your breathless murmur as you forced yourself to swallow the foreign thing down.

It wasn’t even that bad per se — but you just did not like the way the texture scrape against your tongue.

It was too soft, and it unfortunately made you imagine that you were eating an uncooked marinated chicken.

You shivered, trying to dispel the image of raw chicken from your mind, but a new, more immediate sensation began to bloom behind your eyes.

A dizzying wave crashed over you; your vision swam, edges blurring, and a nauseating lurch in your stomach threatened to bring up everything you’d just swallowed.

Your shoulders slumped, knees threatening to buckle even while you sat, but before you could collapse entirely, Yzrivis’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you forward, and without pause, he pressed his mouth into yours.

His tongue glided against yours eliciting a sudden jolt of surprise from you while your breath snagged in your throat.

The taste of that earlier sweetness from whatever the hell he put in your mouth blooms all over again in your tongue.

Your brain scrambled to catch up, tangled between the fading nausea, the dizzying sweetness coating your tongue, and the fact that a fucking deity was kissing you.

Your initial impulse is to recoil.

This feels… illicit and wrong, isn’t it..? but your body didn’t really listen; your hands found his shoulders without thinking, fingers curling into the fabric of his clothing.

You kissed him back, hesitant at first, then harder when the slow drag of his tongue against yours draws an embarrassing sound from you.

You don’t even realize you’ve started leaning into him until he’s the one who pulls away, his mouth detaching from yours with an almost agonizing slowness.

Your brows knit in irritation before you could stop yourself. Who the fuck told him that he could decide when this would end?

He started this and  kissed you first, and now he wanted to stop?

The audacity of this bastard, really.

He always did this—dangled something just close enough to taste, only to snatch it back as if he were testing how far you’d chase it. 

But now, shame and pride be damned, because you were definitely going to chase it this time.

You swung a leg over, straddling him as you caught his mouth again in a firmer, hungrier kiss.

You didn’t care that his hands tightened around your hips in quiet warning, instead, you pressed closer, unwilling to let him retreat.

When you felt him tense as if to break away, you followed, sealing the space between you until there was nowhere for him to go.

It wasn’t until the sharp sting of his teeth sank into your tongue that you froze, a startled noise breaking from you.

His palm came up to your jaw, firm and unyielding, pushing your head back just enough to sever the kiss.

“No—!” 

“Not so noisy,” Yzrivis murmured, his warm breath still caressing your lips. “You’ll wake the boy.”

What the hell is that even supposed to mean— Ah. right, Theo was here.

You fluttered your eyelids at him, still irritated, your lips prickling with sensation. “…Theo? He’s not gonna wake up. He’s a heavy sleeper.”

Yzrivis’s gaze darkened as his eyes darted momentarily toward the sleeping figure curled on the other side of the room. “Hmph. It will still hurt him.”

…What on earth is this bastard even saying? Your brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

He tilted his head, like a teacher who couldn’t believe the stupidity of his student. “You truly don’t see it?”

“See what?”

“That he likes you,” Yzrivis replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You scoffed before you could stop yourself, the sound a little sharper than intended. “What?”

“Don’t feign ignorance with me,” His tone sharpened.

“He likes you. Haven’t you seen the way his eyes never leave you when he thinks you are not looking? He even shifts his breathing to match yours — and he follows you like a mutt, and when you want something—”

 “—He would even risk his life just to please you.”

You stared at him, mouth opening to argue, but no words came out.

Theo… likes you?

That didn’t make any sense! Theo was just a companion, a responsibility, and someone you had to look after in this place.

He clung to you sometimes, sure, but you’d chalked that up to fear, to circumstance; people held on to whatever felt safe when the world turned against them after all.

That wasn’t the same as… liking you, right? That was ridiculous because you’d know if someone looked at you that way. 

“You are careless with people’s hearts,” Yzrivis went on, as he shook his head. “You’re too busy enduring the world to notice when someone is enduring it for you.”

That… was really deep.

A faint ache bloomed in your chest as your eyes flicked toward Theo who was still sleeping, and your hands clenched into fists. 

“…I.. don’t like him back.”

“In case you think otherwise,” you added, arms crossing loosely over your chest.

Yzrivis’ brows raised.  “Mm… defensive.”

“Why is that, little wolf? Did I strike a nerve?”

You scowled, your eyes veering away from his. “I’m just saying it before you start making stupid assumptions.”

“Stupid assumptions?” His voice became mocking now as he pinched your cheek.

“Like the fact that Theo likes you? Because he does. He stares at you like a starving dog at a feast, and always finding reasons to be near you. You really didn’t notice?”

“Or… you noticed and decided to pretend you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” you murmured quietly.

“Ah… lying now?”

“I’m not lying… I just—” You cut yourself off, frustration bubbling within your chest. “I don’t like him back.”

“Only as a friend,” you added, sharper than you meant to.

The god’s gaze didn’t waver. “Only as a friend,” he repeated slowly, tasting the words. “And you feel the need to clarify that so sternly… in case I think otherwise?”

Confusion bloomed within you, warring with the irritation that you were feeling — because you swore that he was just dissecting you and prying you open word by word.

That was… quite suspicious, isn’t it? Well then, if he thought he could pin you down like some bug on display, then maybe you’d make him squirm for once and do that damn Socratic method he’s always doing on you.

 “You’re… awfully interested in who I like.”

Yzrivis tilted his head, his hand gliding down your waist and pulling you closer to him. “I’m just curious. Your affections—or lack thereof—tend to affect the people around you more than you realize.”

You leaned forward and pressed the barest kiss to the corner of his lips. “Are you jealous?”

For a second, he seemed poised to say no—you could see the word shape itself in the shift of his mouth, the slight narrowing of his eyes—except what came out instead was a smooth “Yes.” instead.

You blinked at him in astonishment. “…Wait— huh.?”

He only arched a brow, as though daring you to push it further.

You fidgeted uneasily, re-crossing your arms as you desperately sought anything—a word, a gesture—to dispel the sudden, oppressive density in the atmosphere.

“Well… you don’t have to be jealous. I told you.. I don’t like him that way.”

“That way,” he echoed softly, tasting the phrase.

“Yes. That way,” you asserted firmly, though you weren’t sure why your voice sounded the tiniest bit unsure to your own ears.

“So… there’s no need to get weird about it.” You drummed your fingers on the deity’s head.

Yzrivis let out a fascinated laugh. “Weird, little wolf? Is that what you think this is?”

 “…I think you’re making this into something it’s not.”

“Mm,” he hummed, “If you say so.”

You let your head come to rest on his shoulder as your gaze softened. “Look, you don’t have to worry.”

“You are my salvation.”.Your mouth trailed upward, pressing a slow kiss to the side of his neck, feeling his breath catch the tiniest bit.

“Even if you hadn’t killed Halren and Myron—”

The last part dripped with abhorrence as your jaw tightened, irritation flashing in your chest at the memory of those two. “—I’d still admire you.”

Despite your poor choice of words, Yzrivis seemed to caught on as his brows rose slowly and his gaze narrowed in faint amusement.

“Admire me,” he repeated, as if the word were something strange on his tongue.

“Yes.”

“Hm…” His fingers threaded through the strands of your hair as he let his gaze land on the ceiling. “Do you truly mean it, little wolf? That you want me to kill those two?”

“I assumed..” he trailed off.

“That those were nothing but angry musings. The kind people say whrn they’re wounded, because they want the ones who hurt them to suffer in kind.”

“But you actually want it.”

You buried your head even more further in his shoulder. “…Yes.”

A small, unreadable smile touched his lips, like you’d just handed him a piece to a puzzle he’d been waiting to complete

“Ah.. well, their time is almost over anyway, I certainly won’t disappoint you.” His hand at your back flattened, drawing you flush against him as he leaned down and kissed you once more.

[ 宗教精神病; 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 ]

Morning light spilled in soft gold through the warped windowpanes, catching dust motes that drifted lazily in the air.

Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, fingers wrinkled and damp from scrubbing out the basin, while Theo sat on a chair, hunched over his breakfast.

The scrape of a chair leg echoed as Theo shifted, biting into a crusty slice. “You’re up early.”

“You’re one to talk,” You murmured, eyes fixed on the stubborn smear in the basin as you ran the cloth over it again.

There was a beat of silence—long enough for the question to claw its way up your throat. You didn’t really want to ask him, since it was ridiculous.

But it had been festering there since yesterday, since that damn bastard of a god had looked at you with that knowing smirk and whispered poison into your thoughts.

You wrung the cloth out with unnecessary force and spoke bluntly. “Théodore, Do you like me?”

Theo froze mid-bite, his chewing halted, eyes flicking up in immediate alarm at the blunt question and the use of his full name. “…Uh.”

You glanced over your shoulder, feigning nonchalance even if you were already getting a second hand embarrassment. “You know… like, like me.”

Theo put his bread down, staring at you as if you had just spoken in tongues. “Like—like like you?”

“Yes.”

“Romantically?”

“Yes,” You nodded.

Theo blinked several times, as if giving his brain time to reboot. “Dude… I’m straight.”

He’s straight…?

You fixed your gaze in the basin — fuck, you can’t look at him without feeling that rising wave of mutual embarrassment cresting over both your heads anymore. “…Right.”

Theo held his hands up as though trying to soothe an offended cat. “Hey, don’t take it wrong, [Name]. You… you might be my raison d’être right now—”

Why is he calling me his Raison D’être, my god that’s even more suspicious!  You thought.

Theo must’ve seen the wince you tried to hide, because his face immediately flushed red deeper.

“That… probably sounded wrong, doesn’t it?” He gave a sheepish cough, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But the point is, you’re important to me. Really important. Just not… that way.” He grimaced, searching for the right words. “I only love you platonically, alright?”

“I see..” You turned back to the basin, scrubbing with unnecessary vigor, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you.

Theo cleared his throat awkwardly and went back to eating, pretending the question had evaporated into nothing.

Damn it.

Did Yzrivis just assume things because the two of you shared a roof? Because Theo was the only one you spoke to for hours, days, weeks, and because he’s jealous of him?

The nerve of that bastard, really.

[ 宗教精神病; 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 ]

You were just about to etch Yzrivis’ name onto your wrist, preparing the invocation to summon him again to scold him, when Theo burst into the room.

“HOLY SHIT, [NAME]! YOU OUGHT TO SEE THIS!”

His eyes were dilated, wide and frantic, and his usually neat hair was a wild, disheveled mane, as if he’d run without cease through a hurricane

You jolt, nearly dropping the blade as you blinked at him, startled. “Dude! Knock before entering!” You hissed.

“There’s been a murder,” he announced, his voice cracking slightly as he crossed the room as he  grabbed your wrist hard and started pulling you toward the door.

Huh? Murder?

“What—? Wait, where are we even—” You stumbled, scrambling after him, your free hand still clutching the blade to your chest. “Theo, for the love of all that’s holy, slow the hell down—” 

“Just come,” he snapped, his grip was clammy and slick with perspiration, and you could feel his frantic pulse thrumming like a wild drumbeat beneath your skin.

You dug your heels into the carpet. “Theo, seriously, what the hell is going on? I’m—” You cut yourself off before blurting the obvious truth.

“You’re what?” he shot back, glancing over his shoulder as he tried to pull you.

“Busy!” you snapped, hiding the blade behind your back as best you could. “Well, fuck that! You’re coming either way!”

Before you could protest, Theo eventually yanked you with a lot of force, leaving you no choice but to eventually follow him.

Thankfully, Theo wasn’t really running — and just walking in a slightly fast pace, so it wasn’t a nuisance for you.

You didn’t know how far he dragged you—but eventually, a discordant chorus of wails and shrieks assaulted your ears.

When you broke through the last row of buildings, you saw a crowd had gathered in a clearing, faces pale and twisted in horror.

“They were in the sanctuary this morning!” a woman sobbed, clutching her own arms as if trying to keep her body from shaking apart.

“Yzrivis, save us!” a man wailed. “If they’re dead… we’re all next!” 

“Why would anyone—?” another voice cracked before dissolving into a sob.

“What the…” Your body suddenly tensed as you caught the sight of it.

What the fuck was that?

In the center stood something massive—a grotesque parody of a clock, easily twice your height.

But instead of metallic hands, there were mangled human limbs—arms and legs, flayed and impaled, nailed into the place.

The flesh was violently sundered and torn, and everything had been brutally dislocated and grotesquely contorted.

The clock face wasn’t wood or metal; it was Halren’s head.

His face was slack, jaw hanging open, and his skin had been peeled from his skull with surgical precision, stretched until it was paper-thin and translucent.

Each eyelid had been pinned back with black thread, exposing the glassy whites beneath, and his lips were split at the corners, pulled into a grotesque parody of a circle.

What the hell… The more than you stared at it, the more nauseous you feel; but there is also a certain kind of giddiness that surges within your veins for some unknown reasons.

Perhaps it’s because of your thirst for vengeance, but even so you weren’t really a sadist by any means.

Even if you get a taste of vengeance, you wouldn’t even feel satisfaction.

Every time you’d imagined hurting the ones who’d hurt you, you’d pictured the moment after, when you’d stand over them and feel nothing; empty, hollow, vindicated only in the abstract.

That was the truth you’d braced for.

Just nothing… so why do you feel so satisfied right now?

Your eyes flicked up, and saw Myron tied to the center where the clock’s hands met.

At first, you thought he was unconscious—but then the mechanism groaned, the “hands” creaking forward with a tearing sound, and you saw it; the rope around his neck tightening with each tick.

His body convulsed as his bones cracked and his face turn into a deep, mottled purple — blood vessels burst in his eyes, spilling crimson tears down his cheeks.

The hands of the clock moved again, and the rope bit deeper, carving into his flesh until the skin split and blood poured down his chest.

The crowd’s panic swelled into a cacophonous voices, but all you could hear was the steady, monstrous ticking of the clock.

“…Shit, this is so fucked up…” You heard Theo murmur from behind you as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“What the fuck kind of psycho would do something like this?”  Theo turned his face away, gagging softly.

“God—how the hell can you just look at that?” he rasped, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I feel like I’m about to hurl, and you’re just—” He waved a trembling hand toward the scene. “—staring at it.”

You didn’t even get the chance to reply because the the deafening crack of thunder suddenly reverberated throughout the whole place.

A blast of white light erupted overhead, and then the explosion hit, the ground beneath your boots beginning to shake violently — to the point that trees have started to fall and the ground started to crack open.

“What the—!” You flinched hard, blinking against the afterimage burned into your eyes.

The crowd screamed as one, surging backward in chaos. A man barreled past you, knocking your shoulder so hard pain flared down your arm.

“MOVE! MOVE, DAMN YOU!” he bellowed, shoving through people like they were nothing.

Behind you, another explosion tore through the clearing, so close the heat seared the back of your neck, while the ground shook harder again, throwing you into Theo’s side.

“Shit!” he gasped, catching your arm before you could go down. 

“Ack!— We have to—” you started, but your words were lost in the stampede pressing in around you.

What the fuck is even happening right now?

Overhead, lightning forked across the sky again and again, each strike hammering into the settlement with blinding force.

One bolt split the top of a watchtower in two, the burning wood collapsing in a rain of sparks that caught on the dry roofs below.

Fire bloomed greedily across the rooftops, flames snapping from one to the next, black smoke pouring into the already choking air.

“Help me—please, my son’s in there!” a man yelled, fighting against the current of fleeing people, only to be shoved back so hard he hit the ground and vanished under boots.

“Move!” you snapped as you shove past a pair of priests who were praying to Yzrivis dumbly instead of running.

“Theo—stay on me!” you barked, grabbing his sleeve and yanking him forward.

A woman with wild hair clutched at your arm, sobbing incoherently before another rush of bodies wrenched her away.

“Watch your left!” Theo warned, yanking you away as a man swung a broken plank wildly to clear his path.

“Don’t stop for anything—if they go down, they’re gone!” you snapped, ducking under an outstretched arm as someone tried to grab onto you.

“Please—please take my baby!” a woman shrieked, thrusting a bundle toward you.

You almost tripped, shoving Theo forward before her face vanished in the crush.

“[Name]— I can’t run anymore—” His words broke apart in ragged gasps, and at first you thought it was panic, but then you caught the wheeze, high-pitched and desperate as his hand clutched at his chest.

“Are you injured? shit — get on my back, i’ll carry you—”

“N-no… I.. i can’t.. breathe—”

You froze.

Theo… did tell you that he has asthma back then, didn’t he?

Shit, shit, shit, this is such a fucking nuisance!

“Théodore, listen to me—look at me!” You shoved him against the wall of a leaning shack, cupping his face so he couldn’t turn away. 

“Slow it down.. slow—breathe in—” You mimed the motion, your own breath exaggerated and steady despite the chaos.

You don’t really know how to make him calm down, but still, you tried to do so. “In.. hold, and out.”

He tried, but the crowd surged again, bodies smashing into you from every side.

“MOVE!” someone screamed, and the next thing you knew, three men were barreling straight toward you both—faces twisted, eyes blind with terror. 

You shoved Theo behind you, drawing your dagger in one smooth motion.

The first man didn’t even register the blade until he was already impaled on it, the impact jarring up your arm.

His eyes went wide, mouth opening to scream, but you shoved him backward into his companions, twisting the dagger free.

You turned with the blade still dripping with blood, slashing across the second’s throat before he could step over Theo, then pivoted to drive the hilt into the third’s temple, dropping him into the mud.

Shit, you just killed someone again.

You almost felt guilty, but you pushed all of those feelings down — because not once, did these people feel guilty when you were suffering.

Not once had they graced you with pity when you were at your lowest; therefore, they do not deserve even a shed of pity from you.

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth it is, you suppose.

You grabbed Theo again before the crowd could close in, hooking an arm under his knees and another around his back.

His breath came in shallow, broken stutters, each one weaker than the last.

“Don’t you quit on me—” You hauled him onto your shoulders, his weight a dead pull that made your knees strain.

The dagger stayed clenched in your free hand as you shoved through the panicked mass, snarling at anyone who got too close.

Somewhere to your right, the walls groaned and you turned just in time to see one of the barriers.tilt dangerously before toppling forward because of the massive earthquake.

It hit the ground with a thunderous crash, shattering into useless rubble, while a tornado’s howl rose to meet the quake’s rumble.

Your blood ran cold as a gust of wind slammed into you hard enough to stagger, whipping dust and debris into your face until your eyes stung and watered.

But still, you pushed all of your discomfort aside.

“Theo—stay awake—” You shook him once, hard, but his head didn’t lift, and his breath was barely there.

If you two somehow miraculously managed to survive all of the disasters happening around you — you knew that the undead would come after you, because the barrier has been broken now.

You two would die either way if you don’t run.

“S-shit…  just leave me, [Name]. I’m dead weight, aren’t i? I don’t want to burden you..!” Theo winced.

“Hell no, i swear if you die on me — i’d go to hell and drag you back up here!” 

“F-fuck no… you almost died on Zenderin back then.. and now you’re gonna… fuckin’ risk your life again for me?…” His voice was cracking, as he tried to push himself off you.

“What the hell are you talking about— Agh!”

The mention of Zenderin suddenly made your head throb painfully, nausea hitting your body, and before you even knew it, memories began to flash into your mind like a movie reel.

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a/n: For those interested in updates or sneak peeks or theory shit abt this book, then feel free to join my discord server—the link is on my profile.