Ambivalent • DazaixReaderxChūya

16. Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee

"You've never felt the suffering of Annabel Lee."

-❦-

Down in the cement basement of the Port Mafia building, the stench of blood was stronger than usual, and when you got to the room with the prisoner, you could see why.

It was a man in his 30's, you guessed, with an athlete's build, and you wished you could tell what he looked like before fate screwed him over and put him under interrogation of Akutagawa. His face was now horribly deformed, nose broken, bloodied face, but his body was just as bad if not worse. There was blood all over his shirt coming from every area, but even with all his injuries, the man stood with a strength you'd only seen in very few prisoners. It was almost admirable. The man didn't look up when you and Akutagawa entered, and he was so still if it weren't for his shallow breathing you would have questioned if he had died from the blood loss.

Akutagawa stops in the corner of the room as you continue to walk towards the man, striding with confidence. You pause in front of him, putting a hand on your hip and giving him a look of pity. His head then suddenly snaps back, icy blue eyes staring back at you.

"What, they've brought a woman to do the job the infamous mafia wretched dog couldn't do well enough? Tsk" the man says in a long raspy voice, and you feel Akutagawa's eyes burn through you from behind in hatred.

"Akutagawa could have killed you. You're lucky we need information. Not so lucky that they sent me." You say, leaning in before hitting his face to the side. "You think they'd send me just to bully you for answers? You don't think I have a power meant to make you beg?"

The man laughs, coughing up blood.

"Pretty and feisty? Maybe I'll let you."

Nauseating fury builds up and you feel your body tense up. Such men deserved to suffer, just like the first one.

Annabel Lee

You take hold of the man's face with aggression as he's taken over by your dark blue aura, a sudden shock in his once cocky blue eyes.

"Do you know what it's like to lose your sense of purpose? To lose all sense of love? To let such an internal loss to take you over and make you feel so miserable it hurts in every way imaginable? You'll want it to stop, but it won't. It'll haunt you." You whisper to him, letting go and standing in front of him, a darkness seeping into your eyes as you watch the man gasp and shake violently while holding back tears, his arms hanging up beside him making the chains shake and echo through the room.

"You're weak" you repeat, your already cold body starting to feel the chills of the breeze meant to kill.

From behind, Akutagawa takes your shoulder, pulling you back from your control over the prisoner, and making you stop. You stagger back slightly and push away his hand. Despite the gloves on you, you feel your fingertips freezing, your skin growing icy. You don't hear the questions Akutagawa asks, you don't really care to hear. The man's yells and screams are blurred into white noise as your eyes stay on the him, your itch to cause him to suffer unsatisfied.

Akutagawa looks at you emotionlessly and nods, cueing you to keep going.

-❦-

You had to use your ability 5 times before the man broke and gave up the information needed, and Akutagawa had left you alone to watch him while he reported to back Mori.

The man's face was wet with tears, his strength seemed inexistent, but there was still something bothering you. He was still breathing.

"I've been taken advantage of by people like you. I can't let you live anymore." You mutter, your voice rigid, your face drained of any warmth.

'For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams of the beautiful Annabel Lee;'

You don't remember activating your ability again, and you don't remember moving to touch the prisoner, but you felt the same breeze of death come back to you, you heard the drowning sobs of the weakened man in front of you, and you didn't let yourself think with reason.

'And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes of the beautiful Annabel Lee;'

Although life still sparked inside the man, you could tell he was nothing but a corpse hanging on to the last bit of humanity inside him. Still, you didn't stop the heavy blue aura on the man, you didn't listen to your body borderline hypothermic by this point, you just wanted him to hurt for as long as possible. You wanted to output all your frustrations within yourself on him.

"...I know you only long for someone to guide you to where you're supposed to be"

No, Dazai. Neither that night or now do I need you.

I'm a killer. I'm a Port Mafia assassin. I'm happy like this.

"I knew you wouldn't leave me like that."

Why are you different Chūya? I shouldn't care.

"I don't believe you."

So what if I want to care? I don't care about you, Dazai.

"...Do they really have that much on me?"

I thought I was sure about everything...I thought I was over this conflict.

"I still believe you will see the light again one day."

You can't anymore.

"I care about what happens to you. I'm not fucking heartless."

Then why don't I care about what happens anymore? I want to care, make me care! I found a purpose but I've turned more heartless than my loveless victims.

Am I doing to myself what my ability does to others? Will I die so confused, chilled by the breeze alone?

At least I won't suffer alone.

The prisoner in front of you suddenly falls silent, his body killed by a gravitational force so strong pushing him against the stone he was against, his skull cracking under the pressure, ending his miserable last string of life.

You are shaken to reality by a strong grip, grey-blue eyes meeting yours with concern. Dark ginger hair frame's the man holding you's face, the familiar hat on his head casting a shadow on both your faces now. You can't make out what he is saying as all you feel is a cold calling you to sleep. You try to read his lips as your eyelids grow heavier by the passing second, and you assume he's telling you that you've gone too far. But it didn't matter to you. It just felt good to sleep a chilling sleep in the arms of someone.