⚜ Demon Slayer One-Shots ⚜ Requests Open ⚜

Art of Torment

Ship: Uzui Tengen X Zenitsu Agatsuma (UzuZen)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, and Violence.

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How had life turned out as it had? Zenitsu had never been able to figure that out. Whether it was planned from the beginning, or an action he'd done that led to such an incident, he wasn't sure. The only thing he was confident in was the idea he was facing death. His slip up had cost him more than he'd like to admit. The proof was the tattoo that shot along his body, coiling around him. It left a burning feeling that nearly forced tears to the surface. His mind felt suffocated and his body ached. A single Demon art had hit him, leaving his body to suffer drastically. To make matters worse, he was far from safety and still being hunted for. His backup was nowhere to be seen, nor was his normal heartbeat. The sound he made was tremendous. A horror and chilling to his sensitive ears. It was that of a demons, yet he was human. That was the truth of the Demon art. It forced the victim to delve into urges that were not a humans to have. It soured the soul and tainted the mind. It was a poison that made life unbearable until the ultimate end. 

He had somehow traveled into the woodlands, stumbling upon a shack that was abandoned. Or he hoped it was. The pain was only steadily increasing, leaving his mind a jumble of thoughts. How his life had flipped. He had been calm in the morning, a promise between him and Uzui. A promise of survival. But now he felt sick knowing the promise was a lie. He had no way to break free nor a cure. It would kill him in the end and if that was his fate, he desired to remain clear of those he may harm. Become crazed and feral was a danger and he'd be damned if he hurt someone he cared for. Especially Uzui. Harming him was a filthy joke that made Zenitsu wish to take his own life. That man was his light, casting a serenity in himself. 

Whilst mid thought, Zenitsu felt the markings shift, shooting up his spine as his back arched. He instinctively screamed out, stumbling forward. The hot tears streamed from his eyes as his knees buckled. He hadn't even made it inside and the mark had begun to attack him. Each swift movement only brought more dread. To make matters complicated, Zenitsu had become aware of the other heartbeat. It was in worse condition than his, only guaranteeing he'd been found. His joints were stiff, leaving him unable to pick up his sword. His vision was twisting, coated in a thick layer of water that blurred everything. Even so, the voice was crystal clear, shooting into his mind like thunder in the middle of the night. It made his heart drop, leaving his stomach a mess of sickness and his mind that of delusions.

"Thought you could run away from me? That's hilarious!" The blond recoiled as fingers snatched his hair. He cried out as the marking carried on, twisting further. It coiled his neck, leaving him gasping for air. Those bitter words were whispered into his ears, leaving despair that engulfed him whole. "It's already made such a progression! That's wonderful news, wonderful indeed. You have maybe an hour, but how about a little fun instead!"

Zenitsu dreaded those words over everything. He wanted it to end. The pain. Everything. But the Demon laughed loudly, fingers tearing into his neck. Blood oozed from the wound as Zenitsu felt his breath slip from him. The tattoo shifted differently, slipping into the gash. It vanished from his exterior, cascading on his internal organs. The moment it met his internal structure, it felt like the world stopped moving. The pain was unlike anything he'd felt. His heart felt crushed as he yelled out, thrashing free from the Demons hold as he writhed on the ground. His feet kicked up dirt, tears staining the soil as red left him like a river. Even his own voice was silent to him. He could tell he was screaming, yelling words. But there was nothing. No heartbeats. No noise. Nothing beyond his contorted mind that was shattering that silence with it's own unsteady and terrorizing sounds. It was like the world was merely a string of off tune and long rings, that only seemed to raise in pitch until it became piercing. It left his head pounding and the feeling like it was being torn apart. He could feel his hands digging into his skin, drawing more blood. Scratching at his face. His own nails dug into his cheeks, tearing over his eyes as the marking shot over them. It rushed into his mind, enveloping his brain as everything hit it's peak. In a matter of moments everything stopped. The pain. The fear. The world had halted, to him at least. No more excruciating pain that shattered his body, left him begging to be free. To be spared. He merely was at ease, resting as he'd fallen, unaware of the outside world. Just trapped within his own mind. Even though he felt free, it was clear he wasn't. But he couldn't find a moment to care, so long as the pain had ceased.