ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢ ˢᵘᶜᶜᵉˢˢ
𝔖𝔬𝔫𝔤: 𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔈𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔐𝔢 - 𝔒ℜ3𝔒
Warnings: kidnapping, implied death, phantoms
♥♠♣♦ —— ☠ —— ♥♠♣♦
ʏ/ɴ ʟ/ɴ. ᴍᴏᴅᴇʟ, ᴀᴄᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɪɴɢᴇʀ. ᴏɴ ꜰʀɪᴅᴀʏ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴛ 8:30 ᴘᴍ, ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴇᴀ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ. ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀɴʏ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴀᴄᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ.
♥♠♣♦ —— ☠ —— ♥♠♣♦
Y/N woke to the sound of a crackling fireplace and the feel of intense heat on her cheek. It quickly blossomed into the sort of burning sensation that came from standing near a heat source for a few hours too long. She gasped as she pulled herself away from the heat, far enough that the pain lessened, but not far enough that she could escape it entirely. She would have pulled away more if not for the coarse bonds around her wrists and ankles.
"Wha..." She pulled at her wrists, testing the limits of the rope. There wasn't any give at all, and as she squirmed, she could feel the edges of the twine digging into her skin, leaving angry burn marks. She gritted her teeth and pulled at her wrists, trying to lift them from the chair, but quickly discovered that they were much too strong for her.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Y/N froze, slowly lifting her head to look around the room. Now that she was looking around, she could see just how strange her surroundings were. She was in what appeared to be some sort of dilapidated theatre from ages long gone. Elegant chairs with velvet cushions were aligned in neat rows before her, though some were missing, and some were covered in old cobwebs and stuffing that had been ripped from the cushions. She, however, was sitting on the stage, sitting beside an old fireplace that seemed to be nothing more than an old prop. Not far from where she sat, a large gaping hole opened up in the floor, and Y/N shivered at the sight of the jagged boards of wood.
"I advise that you don't stress your bonds, darling. They'll leave terrible marks on your skin."
The voice sounded as though it was coming from the other end of the theatre and Y/N narrowed her eyes, trying to see into the void of darkness. The only light in the room flickered with the fire beside her, and even then, her shadow covered most of it.
That was, until, with a sudden spark of magic, the light hanging over the exit suddenly sputtered to life, flickering with age. The thick layer of dust that had accumulated over the years cast a ghostly shadow on the scarlet carpet that ran down the length of the theatre, illuminating the small clumps of rubble that littered the ground, accompanied by what appeared to be forgotten cigarettes and cigars, and a few broken wine bottles.
But the most terrifying of all was the boy standing beneath the light, an eerie grin on his face. He held his pen in his hand, his pale fingers twirling it around as he took a step forward.
"Do you know where we are, darling," he purred. He glided towards the stage, his heels barely skimming the ground and carefully weaving around the piles of refuse. His cloak fluttered behind him, his brisk pace creating a soft breeze that rippled the violet fabric.
Y/N pulled at the bonds again, her messy bun starting to come undone, her hair tumbling over her shoulders and into her face. She didn't know, nor did she want to know. There was something wrong with this place.
"I asked you a question," Vil hissed as he made his way to the stage, sensually stepping up the stairs to the main stage.
Y/N still didn't answer and Vil let out a tired sigh.
"Fine then," he said. "Shall I tell you a story instead?" With a wave of his pen, dark violet images started to appear, mere outlines that patched in the gaps of the empty theatre, returning it to its former beauty.
"Once upon a time... there were two children."
Two young children appeared on the stage, and Y/N recognized them instantly. It was her... her and Vil as children. They danced together on the stage out of harmony and choreography. They were simply... children being children.
"One was a boy who dreamed of becoming a famous actor like his father. The other was a young girl who had no idea of what her future aspirations would be. Would she become a dancer, a singer, an actress, or a model? Or perhaps she would give up on her parents' dreams of her joining the arts and pursuing something more scientific."
The image changed to a slightly older picture of the children, one reading from a book, his arm spread wide as he silently rehearsed the lines that he had been provided with. Y/N glanced down at the seats in the audience, her eyes widening when she saw that they were full of adults. The boy pointed a sword at the girl's heart, once again, playing the villain.
"But as the years passed, it became clear to all, that as charming as the girl was, she was equally as good at the theatre arts."
The girl suddenly sprung to life, pulling out a rapier of her own. The two swords clashed silently and the two children smirked at each other.
"They grew apart. One joined a school where he could cultivate his magical prowess, and the other headed off to the big city in hopes of performing. Both wishes were granted. The boy became known for his skill at curses as well as his ethereal beauty, and the girl became famous for her songs and acting."
The next image showed the two in their different professions, and their backs pressed together. Vil with his pen in hand, adorned in his dorm uniform. Y/N was sitting on a bar stool, her bass guitar in her hands, singing her heart out into a microphone.
"The next time the two saw each other, the boy soon realised that he could never dream of achieving what his friend had, and the two became rivals, their friendship long forgotten."
The image of Vil was now sitting in one of the chairs, his arms crossed and a sour look on his face as he watched Y/N with her friends, singing on the stage. Y/N remembered that night. The first night that they had been reunited after ten long years. It hadn't been a happy reunion.
The images faded and Y/N was left with tears in her eyes as she stared at Vil, glaring down at her as if she were the villain in his story.
"Now do you remember this place, darling," Vil hissed, a single tear falling from his eye. He quickly wiped it away, not willing to ruin his makeup. Not over someone he had once loved, who now shone brighter than he ever could.
Y/N nodded slowly. "Yes..." She took another look around and realised where they were. The ruby pillars, the elegant panelling on the stage, the empty seats that had once been filled by adoring parents. This was the theatre of their old school... The theatre where they had spent hours of the day rehearsing together, goofing off with Jack, and dreaming of what the future would bring them.
"What happened to us, darling?"
Vil had his back to her; his hands clenched as he remembered the days in the sun that they had shared together. The days that he could never get back now. He refused to be anything less than the best. He wouldn't be second to Neige. He wouldn't be second to Y/N. He wouldn't be second to anyone, or anything. He would be the best. The top. The most beautiful.
"Vil..."
Y/N felt her heart race as she noticed black phantoms slowly spilling from Vil's form, slipping across the ground and rising up in front fo her. Teeth mangled and dripping with ink, their claws like obsidian daggers that shone in the light of the slowly dying fire, ready to do as their master ordered.
"Vil?!"
"I'm sorry, darling," Vil said, rising to his full height and running a hand through his hair. He wouldn't allow it to be disturbed. Not for this... peasant. He turned to face her and Y/N felt her skin freeze as she watched Vil's lips curl into a twisted grin. This wasn't the boy that she had once loved.
"But you can't be number one anymore." He slid through the small gap in his monsters. The monsters that had been formed after years of trials. The monsters of his doubt, his lust for fame and beauty, his insecurities, and every dark emotion that clouded his mind.
"Wha-"
"You can't be here anymore," he said, now standing directly in front of her, his hand hovering over her throat. He wouldn't kill her. Not by his own hand anyways.
"I am sorry to do this to you, my dear," Vil whispered, tilting Y/N's chin up, his nails pressing into her skin through his silken gloves. The grin on his face betrayed his true feelings. He wasn't sorry at all. He was thrilled that he alone would have the spotlight once more. Not even Neige LeBlanche would be able to compare to him now. He was all that the world would ever need.
"No, you're glad," Y/N choked out as Vil continued to tilt her head back until he could get a clear view of her neck. "You're happy that you won't have to compete with me anymore..." She trailed off as the burning of her muscles started to swell, interrupting her train of thought and allowing the pain to surge into her brain like the phantoms hovered around her, their claws ready and poised to strike.
"P-please, Vil," Y/N cried, the first of her, many, tears falling from her eyes. Vil smirked and caught it on the tip of his finger. He brought it to his mouth and sensually licked it from the tip, allowing Y/N to watch him as he devoured her sorrowful taste.
"I must say, darling," Vil hummed. "Your anguish tastes..." he leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "delectable." He licked the shell of her ear, smirking when he felt her body shudder and pulled away.
"Unfortunately," he said, flicking her chin up before letting it fall, "this is where I leave you." He tugged on his glove to ensure that it was properly straightened. There could be no display of the dark deeds occurring in their old school. Every thread and strand of hair had to be perfectly in place. He stepped away and Y/N cowered at the sight of the phantoms starting to close in on her.
"Wait," Y/N shouted, turning her head away from the first phantom as she felt its claws of blood lust on her throat. "Please! Vil this isn't you! W-we can w-work together! Please!"
Vil chuckled darkly and shook his head, straightening his crown in an old grimy mirror. "I'm sorry, darling. But only one of us can thrive in the spotlight." He picked up the candle stick and turned to Y/N, smirking when he saw her form almost entirely engulfed in his monsters. The monsters of his past. The darkest thoughts that swirled in his mind, keeping him awake at night. They were finally free. He was finally free. Free to win the love of the world on the stage, shining in the spotlight.
"And so..." he sighed, snapping his fingers over the candle stick and illuminating the wick. Y/N's eyes widened at the sight of the fire and her struggle increased tenfold.
"As the beautiful Vil Schoenheit waited in the wing for his time to shine..." he held the candle aloft, staring wildly into the dancing flame, "it became clear to all..." he smirked, "that the famous Y/N L/N, swan of the sage, would have to fall..."
Y/N turned her gaze away as she watched Vil release his hold on the candle, allowing it to fall onto the wooden stage, and seal her fate.