3.13 OBSESSIVE LOVE: Tired of

When Voir made the decision to take Kyden to his, he purposely ignored the details of his contract.

Which is why he cannot fathom the situation that he's currently in. His jaws are tense, blood thrumming in his veins. Voir's hand tightens around his switchblade as he tiptoes forth. He shoots a glance over his shoulders and spots Kyden's concerned look. The priest is following his quiet step but Voir shakes his head. He mouths, 'Stay back!'

But Kyden only scowls at him stubbornly.

Voir inwardly sighs but there are more pressing things at hand. The hair on his nape stands on edge and he feels an itch in his skin. 

The silence stretches, long and eerie. His living room is quiet, neat, and seemingly undisturbed. Voir creeps forward, checking and clearing each corner with pinpoint precision because he can't rid himself of that nail-biting itch.

He turns the corner. Checks the kitchen. Down the dark hallway next. He doesn't check the bathroom because he notices that the light in his bedroom is on. Voir shoots a look behind him, signaling his alarm. Kyden nods, and places a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezes hard. The priest sneaks back into the kitchen to grab a knife and though there are no words said between them, Voir can hear it in his heart: 'I have your back.'

With newfound confidence, he inches toward the door. It's left slightly ajar. Voir tries to take a peek inside but he can't see much aside from a long shadow on the floor. 

He holds his breath and contemplates running away.

But he already knows that he wouldn't be able to get far. He makes his choice and slowly pries open the door. The hinges squeak.

"Ah, and here I thought you've forgotten about your dear poor contractor. It took you long enough," came that sweet, velveting voice, sending chills through Voir's veins.

He stands there facing the window, on the other side of Voir's bed. His hands are clasped behind his back as he gazes down on the streets below. Ash brown hair, neatly combed. He wears a faded turquoise turtleneck that matches the hazel of his eyes. 

"What's the meaning of this—" Kyden speaks up, rushing in as well. His eyes are wide, darting between Voir and the professor because he cannot fathom what is going on at all.

Voir holds his arm out defensively, his eyes wide, full of concern and panic. "Don't go near him! He's dangerous. He's—"

Kyden's still trying to figure things out but that's when the sound gets completely drowned out. He can't even hear himself breathe.

Adrenaline rushes and he snaps his gaze up. The professor's eyes glow purple and Kyden's mind turns an unthinking white. He's moving without thoughts, instincts kick into action while his heart reels from shock. Horror. They're all repressed. Kyden takes the knife and cuts into his palm.

He dashes out, only to trip because there's an arm holding him back. Voir looks haunted, his face stretching as he shouts something but Kyden hears nothing at all. His eyes— fuck— 

—are purple.

Kyden twists and uses his bloody palm to grab the arm that's holding him back. 

Voir grits his teeth. He flinches backward, a line of violet flames appears around his wrist; the black protective bracelet disintegrates. Kyden's about to chase after him with that bloodied palm of his and without the bracelet, Voir is vulnerable. He switches the target of his powers from Raziel to Kyden because he's too focused on the blood. 

This proves to be a terrible mistake. Because Raziel only needs two wide steps to close the gap. He catches Kyden first, his bare hand colliding with the nape of Kyden's neck. A simple touch is all that's needed and Kyden is out like a light, collapsed in a heap of the ground like a puppet with string cut. The glow in the professor's eyes dull and soon his irises are hazel again.

Voir gasps, shocked and terrified. "How—!?" 

He quickly flicks eyes up at the professor, activating his ability to lock muscles and joints— 

Except Raziel only smiles. Unaffected, he bends down and picks up the discarded kitchen knife with Kyden priest's blood still coating the edge. 

Voir is just a lamb awaiting slaughter. He stumbles backward into the wall. "What…just what are you?"

Raziel grins. "Just a man."

He raises the bloodied knife. When Voir tries to bolt, he's pulled back by the hem of his shirt. 

The knife comes down. Once, twice, and the room is bloodied. The body twitches beneath Raziel, a blacked wisp rises from the mangled sack of flesh. 

Raziel closes his eyes and inhales deeply, taking in the black wisp through his nostrils and mouth. A violet flash lights his eyes, only to disappear. He steps away from the fallen Voir and turns his attention to Kyden, who lies unconscious on the ground. 

  "Sweet beloved, this would never have happened if you didn't test my patience so much."

He reaches for the priest's pale visage only to stop himself, noting the blood that coats his fingers.

Raziel frowns and retracts his hand. A smile graces his lips because he's got plenty of time with his beloved now. He just needs to clean up this mess.

  …

Kyden lies unconscious and yet he dreams. 

It's as though his mind is separated from his body. In his dream, he has a long serpentine body that stretches for infinity and beyond. But no matter how much he tries to crane his head, the sky's glittering glory is obscured by dark feathers with vermilion tips.

His large jaws unhinge to spew out venom but in the dream, his voice comes out muddled. He can only make out, "…move over, bird brain… … … your petty tricks…"

The Eagle caws and ruffles its feathers, the gleam in its eyes is mischievous and child-like but also predatory, intense. "You damn snake, going into hibernation for eons at a time… … … how do I… … my feelings are…"

It's futile. He can't make out the rest.

"Child," he chides with a hissing sound before he curls into a giant ball.

He can hear the incessant cawing and bratty rattling. Not even eternity could inspire maturity, it seems. 

He wants to scold Sol some more but he's tired. Oh, so, terribly tired…

…

The first time he comes to, he's hurting something awful. There's drumming in his skull, his throat is parched and his muscles all ache with blistering numbness. When he tries to move, he can't. Everything is dark but he can hear the jostling and the whirring sound of the car engine. 

Absently, Kyden registers that the situation isn't good. Panic begins to well in his heart and he attempts to wiggle free. But his limbs are securely bound and everything hurts. His head feels like it's splitting apart.

Just what is going on?

A memory flashes, bright and terrifying; the purple glow in the professor's eyes.

His heart sinks and his thoughts churn against the mind-numbing agony that plagues him. 

The professor is possessed. 

Since when? 

He thinks desperately, clinging onto any tiny string of logic that sparks within the well of his confusion and panic. Kyden thinks back.

It can't be during the Sacris case, Kyden thinks. Because he undoubtedly got some of his blood onto the professor by accident when escorting him to safety. The professor hadn't reacted then so it has to be afterward. 

Still, it doesn't make any sense.

Professor Ervenir is a trained professional, who's worked with demons for years! His mental strength should be more than enough to stave off a demon's temptations, and he must be seeing a therapist regularly, so it can't…

Just what…

What could a demon even tempt Professor Raziel Ervenir with?

What could he want so desperately that he would willingly trade his everything; his body, his life, his soul to obtain?

And that Voir…! Voir was possessed as well. 

The headache throbs, pain sharp and Kyden's thoughts fall into disarray. Unconsciousness claims him once more and he fears that the next time he won't be able to wake.

Reality is spun onto its head and it's terrifying. Kyden feels fear. He feels anger too but soon, he feels nothing at all.

...

Outside the city, a lone car drives on abandoned roads. It's hilariously easy to get away with anything, Raziel thinks because the world is lawless outside of city bounds.

Since the collapse, people have been made to believe the outside to be hostile and uninhabitable, but for him, Raziel, it suits him just fine. He plays an old jazz tune and steps on the pedal. Sunglasses rest on his face to save his eyes from the sun's bright glare. He hums to himself and feels like he's finally going on his well-deserved vacation.

After all, it's been long enough.

Forty-two years is more than long enough for his desires to fester and become the beast that it has today. 

Forty-two years, and he does not even care to stop it anymore. 

Forty-two years, and he's tired of fate.