To Drown In A Sweet Dream [Vanyel/Calypso]

He wanted to stay like this forever. He wanted time to stop, just so he could stay with her, never letting go of her and her, never letting go of him. This quiet calm was intoxicating. As he kept himself close to her, feeling her body grow warmer and comforting, he took a moment to think about what she said. Did he...really have a good heart? It didn't always feel like it, but, if she believed it...there had to be some semblance of truth to it, right?

His heart sank for a moment as she continued, a wave of anguish washing over him for a brief moment. Immediately, he hated the fact that he hurt her -- but, as she curled around him, keeping him close to her, Vanyel slowly began to curl up, gently nestling his cheek against her as he closed his eyes, giving a soft nod as one final set of tears began to drip down his cheeks. His voice was distant as the bar around them slowly began to dissipate into a cobalt mist, fading away into blackness as the man let out one last affirmation to her.

"I love you..."

As the scene faded into darkness, a new door appeared -- remarkably newer than the others, but the more fresh appearance was offset by the ominous additions. Scratches adorned the sides as if long claws had gouged into the steel. Broken chains messily rested all over the door, the tears between the chain links taking a similar shape to the scratches that marked the sides. There was no bright light from under the door, as the previous doors had.

Instead, a dim orange and red glow occasionally lit up underneath the door, flickering like candlelight. The door shook briefly as if it were afraid -- before it finally began opening. Slowly, with loud creaking, the door opened. The orange and red light came from seemingly no source, flickering again and again as the room illuminated, revealing Vanyel's apartment in the Living World. Knives were scattered along the floor, small hints of blood splattered nearby.

Vanyel was laying in bed, dressing in a black tank-top and jeans. His hair was a matted mess, a mix of white, crimson, and blue. Cuts and scars littered his arms, a knife rested in his open hand, caked with fresh and dried blood. Words were carved into the walls, with his voice screaming out in anguish whenever Calypso would read them.

'WEAKLING.'

'MY FAULT.'

The words seemed to repeat endlessly in Vanyel's voice, getting just the smallest bit louder, again and again,

'I COULDN'T HELP HER.'

'I'M USELESS.'

Vanyel quietly sobbed as he curled up, holding his bleeding arm. From the shadows, a figure slowly stepped out from the darkness, just barely able to be seen -- Algos. Her figure looked...hazy, almost as if it were being shown from a projector. Should Calypso look up to her face, all she would see would be two wide, bright-white eyes gleaming back, with a wide, smile illuminating white light, as if her mouth were a piece of the moon in the sky. Her eyes held no pupils, and her mouth held no teeth, just segments of pure white that beamed through the darkness.

'I hate you...'


The voices around him began to pick up their volume and intensity, chanting that it was his fault, that he doesn't mean anything -- but, most prominently, that things would have been better if he never got involved...no, things would have been better if he never existed.

"I don't want to lose you...I don't want you to leave...! Please, please, god, don't leave..."

A creature slowly began to rise from his shadow, illuminated by the sickly red and orange light that plagued the room. It was shapeless, with only a single, bulging eye in the center of what could be called the "head". A mouth opened up in the center of its body, small tendrils with mouths of their own creeping out of it. Two arms slid from its shapeless form, wordlessly prying open Vanyel's chest with a hungry growl, the loud, revolting squishing and tearing of flesh, only to be accompanied by his bones snapping and revealing his beating heart. The tendrils slowly made their way into his wounded chest cavity and began to gnaw, bite, and chew at his heart.

More echoes came from around them at the presence of Algos, all of them filled with malice and hate, wishing death on her and condemning her for hurting Calypso. Yet, a quiet voice lingered in the back of it all. The quiet voice of the maimed and injured Vanyel laying on his bed.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I couldn't do anything to help you. I just keep weighing you down..."

It was hard to hear anything. He could his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his own voice all around taunting him and blaming him for not being able to protect Calypso when Algos hurt her, and seeing Algos in the corner of his vision, staring at him with an expression he couldn't even describe. The creature gnawing at his heart slowly began to retract as he heard Calypso's voice as if her words were a command that slowly brought about the creature's retreat.

Through all the sounds in the room, the man weakly turned his head to try and see her, only to see that she had become so small -- even with this, she needed to tell him something, and his eyes slowly moved, turning their focus on her. He could feel her fear, and his eyes widened, fear of his own beginning to creep up his spine and causing the creature to slowly begin advancing toward him again. What she said...that Algos was never good to her, it made his head tilt slightly. That didn't make sense...Calypso had always spoken so highly of her before the woman had gone berserk on her.

As the next three words left her lips, the sounds in the room came to a deafening silence, and it felt as if time suddenly came to a standstill as Vanyel finally spoke, his voice quiet and fearful as his body trembled in response.

"She...what...?"

The quiet, distant rumble of thunder echoed from outside the windows of his home. As Calypso began to cry, tears of his own began to pool in his eyes and slide down his cheeks, his body trembling. Algos...raped Caly? The first time they met, Algos had done that to her? Vanyel's slow, almost silent breathing began to pick up, taking in a deeper breath, letting out a long, shaky exhale. With each breath in, the pace grew faster, and the exhales grew shakier. All other emotions had gone silent in his heart and mind -- the only emotion that could be sensed right now, one that was currently rocketing up dangerous speeds, was pure, spiteful, unadulterated rage.

Small sparks of electricity began to crackle along his body and in the air around him, and flames began to briefly spew from his lips and coil around his cheeks, mixing with the tears that never seemed to stop. That revelation only made him feel worse. His hyperventilating got worse and worse, more flames spewing from his lips, and lightning continued to crackle around him.

She was wrong. He could have done something! He could have tried to stop her, tried to save her, anything! Who cares if she tore him apart, beat him, mutilated him, killed him, even?! She would still be safe! She wouldn't have been raped by her! His heartbeat grew even louder in his ears as he struggled to lift up an arm, tears freely flowing from his eyes as a loud clap of thunder roared outside, shaking the room.

He hated Algos. There was no better word that could describe how furious he was with her, how deeply he despised her for hurting his beloved -- and now he was being told that even in their first meeting, Algos had done that to her.

It was enough to make him want to fucking vomit.

Struggling to move his arm, he tried to reach forward, only for a clawed hand to suddenly appear at the bedside, lashing out and holding his arm. The moment it touched him, the room began to become distorted. Turning his head toward the arm and looking up, he saw the figure of Algos standing there, the same stance as before, only with her arm clenching his wrist with a grip of steel.

The woman's head slowly began to turn in loud, rigid movements as the sound of joints and bones cracking echoed through the room as her head turned to look at him with malice. Her mouth didn't move at all, her voice instead echoing from the walls around them, sounding as if it had come through a radio.




"̸̢̡̧̧͉̙͓̹̠̪͕̮͇̩̬̰̥̬̬̞̖̟̦̣̱̝̬̘̫̭͔̈̋́̈́̄̇̏͛̌̽̇̉̐́̈́̓̈̊̾͛̊̂̒͛̆̃̿̄͘͝ͅY̶̧̤͔̱̩̠̮̼̪̗̦̝̝̜̲̭̋́̉́̊͛̓͒̀͋̀͋̈́̈́͒̕̚̕͜͝O̵̡̧̨̮̙̟͚̝͈̲̰̹̹͊̈́̏͛̌̕Ư̵̢̧̛̬̘̠̰̠̝̫͖̝̥̭̟̹͓̗̹̬̠̥͍͎̻̜̩̮̟̖̅̈̍͊̽͆͗̍̂̎̀̿͝͝ͅ'̸̡̝̝̜̮̮̪̌́̄̐ͅR̸̡̧̨̻̲̳̭͚̮͕͇̤̻̱͈̩͚͓̰͕̤̹̭͖̞̫͓̖͒̑͑͊̔̒̀̚͠͝ͅË̴̢̢̢͍̝̳͎̳̭̱͓̠̘̱͙̳̪̼̰̰̜̝́̊̋͜͜͜͝͝ͅͅ ̴̡̛̹͈̹̭͓͈͙̳̪̭̱̹͎̟͈͉̬̱̱̯̝̈̋̆̎̈́̊̋̏͌́̇̉̈́͂̎̓̔̓̀̋̃͌̍̈́̄̍̇N̶̢̼̰̰̟͉͓̰̺͚͍̥̗̟̫̤͇̩͈͉̠̣̬̫͖̫̏̋̿͌̅̇̇̈̇͜͝͠ͅƠ̵̬̳̱̺̟͚̟̞͈̺̞͇͎̬̜̫̺̼̲̜̮̳̣̦̓̾̀̽̈̊͌̍́̃̎̀́̊̐͌̽̇̏̓̓̈͗̅̊̕̚͜͝͝͝͠͝T̷̩̙̞̱̪̓̅̏͒͂͛ ̵̡̩̩̙̠͇̪̳̠̯̼̝̝̞̫̫͒̒́͂̍͂̓̅̃́̑͑̈́̀̇̓͊̓̿͊̑͘͘͜ͅF̶̦͉̜̗͖̤̤̤̜̙̤͉͙̭̞̺̃̄̏̅̒͑̍̀̀̂̈͝I̴̢̧̢̢̡͉̗͎̜̻͍͍̻͎̯̦̹̭̳̙̦̟͉̖̰̟̝̠̺̬̫̭͋͒̽͛͜ͅȚ̴̛͇̻̭̏͂̈̐̒̅̑͛̉͑̕͠ͅ ̸̧̧̱̬̠͍̯͙͔̺̥̹̠̲̣̪̹̬̮͉̣̮͇̬̩̫́̈̀̈́̃́̚̕͝T̷̢̳̤̗͇̓́̑͋̀͆͊͌͂͆̈̓̇̌̍̓͠O̴̢̧̟̘̪͉͈̎̿̅̑̔͜ ̴̟̥̼̟̝͂̿͗̓̒̉̐͂́͂̌͂̀͗̉̈́̌͒̈́́͋̀̉̃͛͗̕̚̕͝͝͝L̷̡̨̛͔̺̙̳͇̱͈͚̒̅̐̄̑̆̈́̿̊̌͑̎̃̓͗̽̈́̊́͠͝͝͠ͅƠ̸̩̗̦͚̫̳͈͎̯̈̀̿͌̓̂̄̃̅̇́͂͆͘͘̚̚͜V̷͇̰͔͈̯̝̺͙͙̲̭̙̜̲̞̜̳͙̝̈̏͊̄͐̉̓̐̈́́͒͛͐͠ͅE̸̢̢̡̦̞͈̺̺̜̜͚̞̠̞̓̀̅̉̈͆̈́̈́̓ ̷̮͖͓̰͚͍̟̠̮́̅͊̑̋͌̉̒̐̾̔̅͑́̂̔̈͌̑̏̍̄̋́́́̚̕̚͠͝͝͝H̸̡̡͚͕̜̻̥̆E̷̛͎̜̙̺͖̺͂́͆͐͊̀̈́̈̆̑R̵̡̛̞̫̙̱̟̲̜̰̭̺͈͎̤̜͍͖̳̬̹̦̦̥̟̫̭̙͐̈́̎̋̓͗̌͂̆̿̓̄͆̅̅̈́̇̾͊̋̔̅̂̉̚̕͜͜͝͝.̶̛̰̜̝̦͍̰͎͊̽̆́̾͐̋͐̆͐̃̂̏̓́͋̀̑̀̇͂̒̉̏̂̈́̈́̐͊̚͜͠͠ͅ"̷̧̛̛̛̖͈͙̙͉͙̼̪̫̥̣͙̜̖̪̺̠̏̎̆̇̏͋̓̾͂̊̑̑̐̽̋͆́̀͒̈́͘̚͜͝͠ͅͅ




The words that Algos had said to Vanyel after the chaos that happened with the Eris Family when she called on him and him alone to speak with him. The words cut like knives as he slowly began to draw his arm back, his rage slowly dying down into guilt and sorrow, and the creature slowly began to rise from his shadow once more, its tendrils snaking out and all of their accompanying mouths parting to feast again.

"I know...I'm trying. I'm trying my best...! I don't know what I'm doing half the time, and I still feel like I'm messing up..."

He brought his arms back to one another, holding his scarred arms as he brought his knees to his chest and buried his face into them. Not a sound came from him -- the only things that could be felt from him was an overwhelming sense of pressure, guilt, hate, and confusion.

Fear riddled his mind as Algos' steel grip began to grind against his head, feeling the muscle and bone of his arm begin to creak from the strain. The words kept repeating themselves all around him -- he wasn't fit to love her. He wasn't strong enough to oppose her -- even if she was wrong, how could he stand up to someone like her, a princess of the Demon World who could crush him like the insignificant bug that he was to her.

The creature's tendrils began to coil around his body, reaching into the open chest cavity as a low, hungry growl emitted from its nonexistent throat, gnawing and biting at his beating heart with even more vigor than before, as if all of the pain and guilt had given it even more energy and was fueling the creature. Vanyel pulled his arm back to his chest, still feeling the steel grip, as well as Algos' moon-white gaze, that which seemed to bore into his very soul.

He didn't even notice the fact that Algos' hand had left his wrist, the recreation of Calypso's sister having been thrown against the wall and bearing the force of his lover's fury. The head of "Algos" realigned itself to face Caly with a sickening snap, as if her bones had been broken by the previous movements, now realigning to knit themselves back together.

A resounding cacophony of mocking laughter echoed from the recreation, only her head moving as a result of the action, her silver smile not moving in the slightest. Once more like a radio, the woman's voice echoed in a mocking affectionate tone.

'Sisterrrrrrrrrrrr~ You're being so CRUEL to your LOVING SISTER~!'

Before any other words could be said, her head suddenly snapped toward Vanyel, seeing him reach his arm out to her again. As if she was never there in the first place, she suddenly appeared at the bedside, clenching his arm with a clawed hand once more. Her sharpened fingers dug deep into his wrist, causing even more blood to gush from him, earning a sharp cry of pain and him trying to tug his arm back to him, but the woman's grip held firm, and her smile and eyes seemed to grow just the slightest bit wider at causing him such pain.

His eyes slowly began to close, tears continuing to run down his cheeks as his arm began to go limp. There wasn't a point in struggling anymore -- Algos would take her away from him, and he would be alone again, forced to watch from the sidelines because he wasn't strong enough. His own condemning voice began to pick up again, breaking the eerie, hazy silence as Vanyel started to curl up again, his voice beginning to hurl more new insults toward him, drowning his lover's voice out.

'You'll never be able to help her. You're an idiot who could never hope to help with her trauma.'

'You're just a weak human, what could you possibly do for her?'

'You're the reason why she got hurt. You're bad luck. You cause trouble wherever you go.'

A mixture of Algos' voice and his own came next, echoing louder than any other voice.

'THE MOMENT YOU GOT INVOLVED, EVERYTHING WENT WRONG. IF YOU NEVER EXISTED, EVERYTHING WOULD BE BETTER.'