@yourfavsadistwriter had gave me one scenario that I knew I had to do. Here's your angst that you had never requested for.
And Wattpad, ISTG IF YOU DELETE THIS ONE MORE TIME-
A bath tub filled with red liquid. The cold water running from the tap. A body laying down on the ground, the wrists filled with cuts that red liquid leak out from. A sharp knife laid in the outstretched palm.
How did he himself not notice? Why did he allow the other to commit suicide? What happened to him? What's wrong with him?
It was all going normal. It doesn't seem as something would go terribly wrong and messed up the day. He was the mastermind. How could he not predict the unpredictable?
It was all gone in a flash by just a measly sharp blade drawing across human flesh and letting its liquid drip out. The running cold water from the tap kept the noise entering his ears. It's all gone, in a flash.
What happened, you may ask. Let's go back into the past to find out.
Nikolai grabbed a knife from the kitchen and shoved it in the endless void his cape had so no one can see him holding a knife. Today will be the day where he might get set free.
He had always wanted to kill his beloved Dos-kun to be free of the suffocation from this things we call emotions, but soon he realized he couldn't. He had fallen deeply in love with Fyodor, and he just can't bring himself to do it. He just couldn't let his lover die without achieving his dreams. That wouldn't be fair to him.
He went cautiously upstairs to the bathroom, holding his breath as he went past Fyodor's study. So this is it. He can't have freedom from the feelings anymore. So he chose another way of obtaining freedom. Death.
Nikolai locked himself in the bathroom, turned the tap on to mask out any noise and pulled his sleeve up. He pulled the knife out from the endless void of his cape and begin running it along his wrist, a smile plastered on his face as the pain stung him. He watched the blood dripping from one simple cut on a vein. He continued, running it across his flesh, blood seeping out and dripping in the bathtub to avoid any mess for his lover to clean up. It hurts a lot, all of this, but weirdly Nikolai enjoyed it. He enjoyed the feeling of the cool sharp blade running across his wrist and the feeling of pain. He enjoyed seeing his own blood dripping in to the bathtub.
"Nikolai! Stop wasting water!" He heard a yell. He paused, realizing who was the person that yelled. Sigma. Sigma is here, and he knew that Sigma would stop him from cutting himself. He opened his mouth to yell something back, to act normal so he won't come upstairs and barged into the bathroom, but no voice came out. He decided to concentrate on doing whatever he was doing and do it fast before Sigma caught on and barged in and save him.
"Nikolai!"
More blood drip in the bathtub as Nikolai continue running the blade along his flesh multiple times, cutting his vein. He felt darkness starting to come in his vision as he continued.
"Nikolai? Are you alright?" He heard a gentle voice from outside. A voice he would love to hear, but not in this situation. Fyodor's voice.
Finally he paused as he felt faint and weak. He stood up, swaying slightly, and turn to open the door, but ended up falling back onto the floor with a crash, darkness finally taking over his sight as he heard his beloved Dos-kun calling his name again, concern showing in his voice.
"Nikolai?"
"I love you, Dos-kun" he whispered weakly as finally he gave in to the darkness. He laid there, no longer feeling anything.
△▽△▽△
Sigma ran up the stairs, hearing the crash and saw Fyodor knocking the locked bathroom door again with one fist as the other hand continued turning the doorknob multiple times without getting the entrance to the bathroom successfully. He turned and ran to find any tool he could use to just get in the door.
Fyodor frowned, hearing the running water yet no reply. Then he heard some noise that sounds like an engine starting behind him. He turned to see a chainsaw in Sigma's hands. "What the fuck?"
"Don't ask. I found it in Nikolai's store room."
He stood back and let Sigma use the chainsaw to cut the door down. He waited until finally, a hole big enough for the two of them to enter.
Fyodor walked in first as Sigma ran away again to put the chainsaw back for both his and Fyodor's safety. He stared at his lover, lying down on the floor, a sharp knife on his outstretched palm.
He didn't say anything, nor do anything. He didn't try to call for help. He didn't rush his lover to the nearest hospital available. Instead he walked up to the cold limp body, squatted down and plant a kiss on his forehead. He sat on the cold floor, the upper half of Nikolai's body lying on his lap as he pushed a few long strands of his hair away and tucked them behind the other's ear. "You're free now, my love"
△▽△▽△
"And you never noticed?!" Sigma yelled. Fyodor casually ignored him as he continue to write on his manuscript. It had been three, no, four days since Nikolai had died. They had been to his funeral, and now Sigma was yelling at him because he, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, the one who had predicted everything in advance, didn't expect Nikolai to commit suicide. He expect Nikolai to kill him instead of committing suicide to obtain his freedom that he so greatly wanted.
"How are you so calm about this?" Sigma asked. Fyodor's expression was the same as he had everyday. It was as if he didn't care about Nikolai. Sigma sighed and went out, knowing it's pointless if the other continued ignoring him. Fyodor heard the other leaving and sat back, eyes closed as he finally let the tears seep out and run down his face.
△▽△▽△
While cleaning up his lover's room, he suddenly noticed a slim thin notebook, apparently used as Nikolai's diary. He stayed frozen before opening it and turning to the first page. After all, he was dead and he couldn't exactly scold him for looking.
Every page it seem the same, ranting on about Sigma and his way of getting freedom and multiple ways of killing Fyodor. He was amused, reading it before turning to the last page that was written before his death. A particular paragraph caught his eye.
I had so badly want to kill Dos-kun, but I decide to not intefere. After all, he had his goal to create a new world and all of that boring stuff. I can't come in and ruin everything for him. He had worked so hard for it, ending it all would be such a waste. I had to find another way to achieve my freedom. And I will find another way! The great Nikolai Gogol will find a way to grab the freedom he wanted!
It ends there. The next pages are just thin white blank paper sheets. "So...his way of obtaining freedom is suicide since he decided to no longer try and kill me?"
He turned and went out from his room, bringing the book along with him. He's going back to exactly where his lover is and giving the notebook back to him.
△▽△▽△
He arrived at the gravestone, and read the carved on words to be certain it is him, even though he knew it is.
Nikolai Gogol
1 April 1996 - 11 November 2022
Died to Suicide
May He Rest in Peace
He placed the notebook down on the grave the held his lover. "I believe this belongs to you"
He stayed there, silent. He didn't need to speak. He could just stay there and knowing that Nikolai is possibly near is already comforting to him. Then he heard a chirp like it was right beside his ear, and glanced at his right shoulder. A small chubby bird stood there, its feathers snowy white. A rare white sparrow.
He held his hands out. The bird flew to them and sat on it, treating it as a nest. Fyodor stared at the bird before him. He remebered how Nikolai had said before if he dies, he hope to be reincarnated into a bird because they are free.
"Are you...Nikolai?" He whispered. He doesn't care if he looked mad, talking to a bird. The sparrow chirped as if it had understood what Fyodor said.
Fyodor kneeled down on one leg and place the bird back on to his lover's grave and turn to walk away. As he was heading back into his car, he heard a chirp right beside his ear again. He glanced at his shoulder. The same white sparrow was back and standing right on his shoulder.
Fyodor let out a sigh as he went in the car. "You really haven't change, huh Nikolai?" Another chirp came out as he started the engine and drove away, the bird on his shoulder.
△▽△▽△
Fyodor wrote in his manuscript, his window opened. A familiar chirp made him look up. The white sparrow is back. Fyodor had let it fly outside because well, Nikolai had wanted to be free and he is allowing it to be free instead of putting it in a cage. It hopped inside and looked at Fyodor. He sighed. "Didn't I just fed you like a few seconds ago?"
Another chirp as it hopped beside his hand. Fyodor placed down the feather pen, about to get up to feed the darn bird again when it hopped straight onto his palm. He froze in his seat, watching it makes itself at home on his palm. Then the bird stayed there, looking back up at Fyodor.
Fyodor finally moved his other arm and cupped his hands together. The sparrow sat in it as if his hands were a nest made just for him. The warm soft feeling it radiated brought a small rare smile on Fyodor's face.
"Welcome back, Nikolai Gogol"
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