Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 31
Get into bed.
Sleep.
Dream.
Wake.
"Aren't vu excited?!"
Your eyes adjusting to the bright lights swiftly. Your head lifting, somehow dizzy from your dream state.
You were exactly where you sat last time. At the other end of the table, facing an empty seat. The table still laying ordained with birthday decorations. Reich was still sitting to the right of the empty seat, German Empire beside him, and Prussia to your left.
Some time must have passed as the Empire had finished the bottle he had been drinking. Now his white eyes kept glancing nervously at the clock on the wall in front of him. His hands clenching and relaxing over his body. He seemed so nervous. But why? This was clearly some kind of birthday party. Why would that make him nervous?
"What...?" You replied wearily, your fraught eyes locking onto the joyous Reich. Who was bouncing in his seat, barely able to keep himself still. He looked so young. Perhaps around 12. His round childish eyes showing a glimmer of innocence that he seemed to have lost by the time you knew him. Or perhaps your unconscious mind was exaggerating his already present features.
But that didn't matter to you in this moment. You were far too confused to contemplate even where you were, never mind why Reich seemed so much younger. Nor why the Empire looked far different from how you knew him.
Your mind's imagination was really running wild, wasn't it?
"Zey'll be here any minute now, aren't vu excited to meet zem?" Reich reiterated. His voice squeaky and high. Outlining his younger self even more.
You wanted to ask what the hell was happening, or why you were here again. But your voice couldn't come out. Your eyes lowered on their own, your brows furrowed. Something was wrong here, but you didn't know what it was. You couldn't tell. Something was between the lines but your tunnel vision only allowed you to see what was openly present.
Your eyes dragged to the left and met Prussia. He was staring at his son.
The Empire was continuing his sporadic glances towards the clock. His face traced with trepidation. His white, normal eyes wide with agitation.
Reich was the only one who hadn't noticed his father's paranoid behaviour. But Prussia clearly wasn't letting it slide. He was scowling at his son as if he was trying to catch his eye. Perhaps to warn him to calm down. He looked on the verge of a panic attack. Sweat glistening under the hard beat of the chandelier, his limbs restless.
You let your eyes fall again.
Below you was an empty plate. A ceramic white, painstakingly embedded with a floral pattern. Yet it lay empty. It must be for the cake at the other side of the table. A black forest cake, dressed with candles and icing. Ready to be lit, then blown out.
You could see your reflection in the plate. Dull and blurred. Your mind finding it difficult to remember your own face. You looked sad, worn out. Pathetic. You couldn't make out your eyes, nor your mouth. It just seemed to be a ripple of your mirrored self. Disturbed water that waved across the ceramic plate. Distorting your reflection.
"Get me out of here." You muttered. Though no one heard you. They had returned to their own worlds, behind the gateway of their minds.
Then your eyes opened again.
You shot up.
Your head reeling.
It took you a moment to shake it off and realise where you were.
Looking around you took in your surroundings. Then calmed your breathing. Relaxing.
You were in bed. Wrapped up in the Empire's duvet. Though he hadn't gone to bed yet. Everyone else had left to turn in for the night. Prussia showing the guests to their rooms. But German Empire had told you to go to his room, then turned away towards the main bathroom. Rather than his en-suite.
How was he still not back yet?
It had been long enough for you to drift off, falling into a dream state. Then waking back up again.
Was he oka-
The door slammed open.
Speak of the devil.
The Empire stumbled pathetically into the room. His feet swaying, his body tumbling. He was clearly inebriated. The whiskey he had been drinking at dinner had gotten to his head. Intoxicating his ill mind.
German Empire stumbled his way across the room, then dropped onto his velvet chair. The same place he had slept for so long.
You watched as he sat with his legs open, an elbow on his knee, his other arm leaning on his leg. His head in his hand. "You good there buddy?" You asked the Empire, your head tilted. He didn't reply, a mere scoff fell from his lips. Strings of German gibberish emitting from his throat in a deep mutter. His head must have been spinning like a wheel.
You stood to feet, throwing yourself from the bed. Landing with a muffled pat. "Hellooo, anyone home in there?" You jeered, approaching his resting body. The Empire failed to reply again. His head seemed to be in the clouds. His mind running far from his body, gone with the wind. But to you, he was a slightly ill man sitting still with a raging headache. No matter how drifted his mind was. His body would always stay. Proving to be the one factor that showed he was not fabricated, but corporeal to your eyes. Even if it didn't seem like it to him in this moment.
Your shadow fell over his hunched body. Opting him to finally raise his head, meeting your eyes with his usual phlegmatic expression. Or lack thereof.
"Was?" He muttered. A deep guttural vibration expelling from deep in his throat. Drawing a growl from him once his word had been uttered. You shrugged, "Where were you?" Questioned you, while you crossed your arms. He groaned as a response, tired and shattered. His hands shaking. Then he reached forwards, grasping onto your jumper, pulling you onto him. Your arms unfolded, your elbows now resting on his shoulders. A surprised yelp left your lips, your eyes wide and staring up at the face of the Empire. But you didn't get to look at him for long, as he set his head on your shoulder. Covering his void face in your neck.
He breathed in. Basking in the smell you expelled. Which in hindsight was probably pure sweat. You had woken up with a jolt after all. But it didn't seem like German Empire minded, if at all. As his arms pulled you closer, sighing through his chest. His breathing stalling momentarily.
Your hands moved down, unravelling from his shoulders, attempting to hold the arm of the chair. Desperate for some semblance of stability. But you missed, your hands slipping, grasping onto his leg instead.
Your eyes widened.
The keys.
You could feel them in his pocket.
They were hard and thin, slightly rusted as part of their surface crumbled. Spilling flecks into his pocket.
The Empire was so out of it right now. Would he even notice if you were to take them from him? It didn't seem like he would be capable of realising it. Hope was strong, but your perseverance stronger.
Slowly, you ran your fingertips over his pocket, over the keys. Before you found the opening. Your fingers traced the stitching that lined the hole. Trying to work up the courage to reach in. While knowing that he was awake and conscious. Sitting beneath you, laying still yet present. Capable of feeling your every move.
You winced upon hearing his chuckle. His hands gripping you harder, pulling you further into his chest. "I've never had ein assassin attempt to zeduce me before."He muttered dutifully in your ear. You pulled your head back and made a face at him. "I'm not an assassin?"
The Empire tilted his head back, his shoulders falling. "Mm, zen vy are vu here?" He infuriatingly asked.
Your eyes narrowed at him. "I thought we were over this." You spat. Not particularly enjoying the fact he was bringing his suspicions back up. Had you not proven your due diligence? Had you not proved that you were not only completely trustworthy but also complacent in helping him and his son?
The Empire merely hummed at your aggravation. Which only added to your irritation at his actions and words. But you didn't feel like fighting him. You didn't feel like making this more difficult than it already was.
Your head set back on his shoulder. Your confidence unwaning. Your annoyance drove you to accomplish what it was you had set out to do. And now, decorated with the anger of a farce betrayal, your hand made its way into his pocket.
A block of rotten iron met your fingertips. You were right, they were rusted and old. Clearly having been used to death. They were threadbare in their own right.
You looped a finger around the ring connecting them all together, then began to pull. Gently dragging them out.
The Empire felt your hand within his pocket, and let out a slurred chuckle. "If vu vanted to put your hands dovn mein pants vu could have just asked." Mumbled he.
You immediately stopped. Your finger letting the keys fall back, your hand retracting.
You couldn't do it. Not while he could feel everything you were doing.
You brought your head back up to look at the Empire. "That's not what-"
'Take his pants off you say?'
You blinked. An opportunity had arisen. You had been joking when you said to Reich you would get his pants off. But now you didn't know if you were. His keys were under you, tantalisingly within your reach. Yet somehow out of grasp.
You couldn't get them when he could feel them pressing against his leg. But you could get them once they were nowhere near him. He was so inebriated he would forget to hide them like Reich said he usually did. It was now or never.
This was your one chance.
"Would you like me to?" You asked lowly, eyes searching his empty black holes he saw from.
The Empire leaned back in his seat. His cheat expanding before he blew a ragged breath out. "Fuck." Was all he said. His hands beginning to run down your waist, landing on your hips.
You weren't particularly too keen to do this. But you were curious. Too curious to say no. You knew that if you got your hands on those keys, you could know what was behind that iron door.
Sure you had tried to dissuade Reich from proposing to go in there. But you couldn't help but wonder. There was clearly a reason why it was the way that it was. Emitting a terrible stench, dark and rotten, placed in such an odd location.
None of it made sense.
So you bit the bullet. Lowering a hand to his crotch, gently running your fingertips up and down.
The Empire threw his head back, his breathing erratic, his hands gripping you harder.
You hummed and set your head on his shoulder. Leaning into him. The Empire did the same. Resting his head in the crook of your neck. His voice spoke in your ear, deep and hoarse. His warm breath sending a reactionary shiver through you. Causing you to tilt your head away. "I visch I could kiss vu." He muttered. Burying his head deeper in your neck.
You could smell the alcohol on his breath. The bottles he had drunk all through the morning catching up to him. Spilling over after he finished the final one at dinner. Intoxicating him to the point of a blackout.
It seemed to be reaching into his mind now. The strong liquor that flushed his head free of thought.
He felt like passing out. His large alcohol intake messed with his psyche. It made him feel sluggish, tired. His mind barely processing what was happening in that moment.
He could feel you atop him. But that was it. There was nothing else he could feel. He didn't understand the world around him. Only the feelings pressing against him seemed to get through his wall of inebriation.
He felt his eyes shut. His mind giving in to his intoxicated state. His tiredness winning him over.
Through a wall of faded reality, he felt himself stand. Your body still in his arms. Your limbs wrapped around him. He tumbled blindly towards his bed, laying you on it. Then himself.
His eyes opened again, meeting your red and sweating face. Your eyes wide, fraught. He tried to smile. Then leaned over to his bedside locker, producing a tie from one of the many drawers.
You looked confused for a moment. But he couldn't think of what you would say. So you said nothing at all. There was nothing you could have said anyway, nothing he would allow you to. This moment was for him, for his needs and thoughts, for a world that could never be, for a world that never was.
The Empire lifted your head, then slipped the tie under you, tying it around your eyes. Blinding you.
A gasp left your lips, your hands shot up as you began shoving at his body. A natural reaction it seemed. German Empire laughed to himself, his tone still guttural and slurred. With one large hand, he bundled your wrists together and pinned them above your head, causing your legs to begin kicking. But he held those down with his own legs. Your squirming now isolated to just your neck. Which was thrashing around. Your throat voicelessly communicating by gurgles and wines. Your hands twitching under his.
With his free hand, he undid his leather belt, pulling it free from his pants. Before bringing it up to your wrists, bounding them together, then tying them to his bedpost. Putting a pretty little bow in the knot.
The Empire sat back. His eyes examining every little detail they found. Tracing and retracing the same image he had been staring at for what felt like hours now.
The image of you. Bound and helpless. Your hands above your head, your eyes shielded from the sight of him sitting above you. Your legs around his waist.
He wasn't sure of what to do for a moment. His eyes only staring. But his hands reacted faster than his mind. Those claw-spiked fingers of his reached forwards and wrapped around your jumper, clasping the material between his drills.
He tried to smile. But of course, wasn't able to.
But he felt that change once he pulled his arms back. His muscles rippling as they strained under the resistance of your jumper. Then the cotton split, your jumper ripping apart.
A partial scream left your throat as the Empire observed friction marks burning into your sides. Your irritated skin flaring, boiling a deep red as scathed bubbles of blood formulated. Burning and scratching your sides, like ravenous insects were amalgamated under your flesh.
The Empire's mouth opened. His horrifying attempt at a smile erupting from his face.
His skin broke apart. Wide and gaping.
Each loose flab of flesh red and dripping. His teeth protruding from a mouth that stretched up his face. Cutting through his flesh, leaving a dark hole pulsating with runny blood. His torn-up skin dripping from his skull like water. His face was so, unbearably, itchy. His gums were decaying around his pointed teeth. Their moist pink colouring deteriorating, until they were black and fluid. Melting against his scathed canines.
Writhing puss spewed from under his teeth. The steaming liquid putrefied and squirming. A feeling akin to a maggot's meal, wiggling bodies bubbling under his skin, inside his mouth. It caused an itch in his gums, that no matter how many times he scratched, he couldn't get rid of. His gums were swollen, easy to accidentally chew, scraping a layer of the melted muscle off. Ulcers oozed under his canines, hard lumps of boiled flesh that pulsated against his tongue. Making his mouth all the more itchier.
His teeth were sharp and hanging from his gums, loose from the dwindling grip his rotting mouth had on them. They felt hairy, like flies were crawling across them. Wiping their filthy feet against his gored teeth, causing a feeling he wished he could rip from his mouth. And his sloppy gums never made this feeling any more tolerable. The sharp, cutting end of his teeth embedded in his gums squealed against the liquified muscles. Pinching him, deep within his screaming flesh. Itching him, until it drove him crazy.
And his tongue. God if only you could see it.
It was longer than his fingers. Red and pointed at the end. Scars from having to stitch it back together so many times delved deep within it. Leaving ridges that lifted high and stung whenever he moved the muscle. Blood pooled on the surface. Caused by the endless dripping of liquids within his mouth. From the melting of his gums. It was dripping with spit already. Sending splats down onto your squirming body.
The Empire noticed this, and his eyes widened. His mouth pulled tight against his ripped skin. Causing it to strain again, watering his eyes in pain.
But you didn't know this. He basked in the humiliating feeling that you didn't know how he looked when he smiled. To you, his mouth was still non-existent. His smile impossible, his decaying mouth even less so.
German Empire shot forwards, his head burying deep into your neck. His grotesque tongue dragging across your flawless skin. Sending a shiver down his spine, and causing you to pull away. Your arms beginning to yank at the belt holding you in place. Squirming like a trapped mouse.
The Empire lifted his head, a deep guttural chuckle erupting from deep within his throat. He brought his lips right against your ear, and for a moment all you heard was his ragged broken breath. Before he spoke hoarsely. "Keep struggling, I fucking love zat."
You let out a whimper, your head turning away. Your arms pulling sporadically at his belt. Desperate to free yourself. The Empire breathed heavily out, before he sat up, basking in the sight of you.
Loose slices of skin had pulled away from him. Landing on your exposed chest, slathering you in his own blood. He smiled wider, his dry eyes popping from their sockets. The itch making its way to them too.
But he could ignore that now. He found a distraction in undoing his zipper, then discarding his pants. Throwing them mindlessly on the floor to the left of his bed.
You had no mind to what was happening above you. He was sure of that. There was no way you could see him. No way for you to fully comprehend what he was doing. Nor what he was going to do. And he loved that.
He loved that you were unaware of the fact someone else's flesh twisted atop your body. Or that Your sides were oozing little drops of blood with every little movement you made. It must have just been a burning feeling. Too numb for you to feel the release of liquid rolling down your sides, and slathering over his bedsheets.
And the Empire loved that fact.
He loved that it was he who was seeing you like this. Not anyone else. Not even you. He couldn't help but wrap his hand around his erection, and begin pumping. His wide bulging eyes concentrating on the mess of flesh on your skin. He ran his free hand across it, stretching the skin over your stomach. Wiping his blood in.
His hand moved against his dick faster once he realised his mouth had begun dripping puss onto you. His rotten gums dribbling down his chin and splashing onto you, onto his own blood. Before it ran down the curve of your waist, mixing with your blood instead.
Now this. This was beauty.
He was done with waiting. This painting was gorgeous to stand back and admire, but he wasn't finished painting it. With as much power as he could muster, German Empire grasped your legs, gripping them behind your knees. Then pushing down on them. You made another noise, your hands struggling harder against your constraints. Before you went still once he pushed himself into you. Your mouth wide open.
The Empire stalled for a moment. His mouth parted, his eyes wide. He hadn't expected you to be as warm as you were. But the feeling was beyond welcomed.
As slow as he could bare, he pulled it out, then pushed it all back in again. Shoving as deep as he could muster. Enjoying the feeling of your trembling body against his hands. The sight of your arms fighting for freedom, but to no avail.
The Empire began to thrust. His spine quaking as his hips smashed against yours. The bed squeaking beneath you, the headboard beginning to slam.
A squeal blew from your throat, your lips pulled up in a grimace. He couldn't tell if you were in pain, or if you were enjoying it. But in his mind, it was fully the former.
Your skin was already searing from the friction burns, your throat deadened from screaming. Your wrists developing rashes under his belt from your conglomerated sweat. You must have been in immense pain. And he loved that.
He moved faster. Drawing longer and louder groans from his throat. His hands pinching your skin as his claws drilled dents against your legs. Breaking the fineness of your skin, discolouring you. Bruising you. A loud slapping noise filled the heavy air, covering up the whines you emitted. Sheltering your voice in a cover of ambience.
The Empire was in love. The way you pulled desperately at your bindings each time he thrusted his hips made his heart skip a beat. The way you just accepted that your body was his made his stomach fill with butterflies. The way you hadn't spoken a word made his head reel.
He was in love with you. And you felt the same. It was obvious to him. How could you not? He treated you well, you gave you his home, his food, his bed, his body. He gave you his everything. And asked for one simple thing in return. To stay put. To stick by his side and enjoy moments like these.
And you would never have to worry about anything.
As long, that is, as you obeyed him.
Then all would be perfect between the two of you.
Just like now, in this one, spectacular moment.
The Empire's mouth opened again. Those broken and gored teeth ripping from his mouth like a bear's. His tongue falling limply out. Sending cold spit dripping onto your warm body. Making you squirm more. Your hands pulling uselessly against the belt confining them.
It was such a sight, such a moment.
German Empire couldn't help himself any longer. Your skin looked so appealing, so perfect. Just begging for it to be shown in a more appealing way to him.
His head shot forwards, his mouth open.
His teeth latched onto your breast. Each crooked row holding each end, just like his hand would have done. He felt your back arch under him. Your throat screaming for a moment, before he stuffed your mouth with his fingers. Quieting you. Drawing shattered and eyewatering gags in place of shrieks.
He wouldn't want anyone to hear your screams, would he?
No one would come for you, even if they somehow heard your cries. He would make sure of it.
Then, his jaws clasped shut.
The fusiform teeth that were drilling into you sunk through your flesh. His canines breaching your skin. Bubbling blood began swelling against his bone. Yellow liquidised fat brushed past the Empires teeth, dripping over his mouth and spilling down his throat. He drank it all. Swallowing every last drop of your mangled flesh. Right before he began chewing.
His teeth dug deeper and deeper. Your own teeth biting down on his fingers, your throat screaming. Though it was almost impossible to hear you. Gibberish that he couldn't understand left your lips. Words that he couldn't decide the meaning of.
Chunks of fat flesh popped in his mouth. His teeth pushing so far he felt both rows meet each other inside you. The Empire groaned. Before he let go. Pulling his teeth out of the deep holes he had created, his eyes ogling at the grotesque sight of your mutilated breast. Blood squirted from each of them, their endless descent gored and rancid. Releasing a smell of putrid blood that ran through his senses. And made him thrust faster. His eyes wide. The smell alone could make him cum.
But he didn't want it to end there. Not at all.
His fingers twitched in your mouth, finding a grip on your tongue before they squeezed on the muscle. Drawing a sharp squeal from your throat.
His other hand reached up, his fingers slipping into the mass holes he made in you.
Your flesh was warm and pulsating. Gripping his fingertips as he pushed them far, trying to find something to grasp. But all that was between his fingers was black blood. Sticking to his skin and seeping through his nails. Sucking his fingers in until he couldn't pull out.
Your body was spasming, desperate to get away from the feeling of his fingertips running through your tissue.
But he only pushed deeper, until the joints in this hand met your body. His fingertips so deep he could feel the reverberation of your beating heart shaking your flesh. The feeling only making his fingers twitch harder.
The Empire panted faster and heavier. His fingers twisting inside your body, your red tissue grasping his fingers tight. Your blood filling every little detail of his skin. Screams of pure pain erupting from you. Your body jerking aimlessly, trying your hardest to throw him off of you.
And that was all he needed to finish. He pulled out, both his fingers and erection. Shuffling his knees so they sat just under your raised shoulders.
He muffled a loud pervasive groan with one of his hands, while the other stroked himself. Finishing all over your face and blindfold.
Your lips reflexively shut once you realised what he was doing. Your eyes squeezing shut under its felt covering.
The Empire thought your expression was adorable. The way you began coughing, blood squirting from your lips. Splatting all over your face and blindfold. Covering yourself in the very thing that gave you life.
Just like how his hand was dripping in your black blood.
It was beautiful. The way you were still pulling against the ropes holding you down. The way your eyes were blocked from seeing anything beyond darkness. The way he could see every thin layer of flesh pulled apart against your bones. The way you and he were drenched in blood. Your face covered in his semen.
It was all he had ever wanted to do. All he ever wanted to see. It was beautiful. You were beautiful. Especially like this.
The Empire leaned down to kiss you.
Then,
Bang.
He opened his eyes.
And shot up.
His surrounding came back to him slowly as he turned the gas lamp beside his bed on. That's when his heart shattered.
It wasn't real.
None of it was.
He had been sedated.
You...
You had tricked him.
You weren't in bed. Nor were you mangled like he had hoped you would be. No. You were unscathed. You were just as perfect as before.
Only there was one, tiny, problem.
You were trying to leave the room.