[center] [img]https://imgur.com/IYihMs5.png[/img] [img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjg4LjdhYmJmZi5UR0Y1YkdFZ1NIbGhZMmx1ZEdoMWN3LjA/sabrina-destiny.regular.webp[/img][/center] [color=gray][i]A Place Better Forgotten -> Sabrina's House -> Outside[/i][/color] [sub][b]Mentions:[/b] Mr. Devola [@AtomicEmperor] [b]Direct Dialogue:[/b] None.[/sub] [center][i][color=gray][sub](TW: Cutting)[/sub][/color][/i][/center] [hr][hr][center][hider=Ultra Kill Ost][youtube]https://youtu.be/AnLuKx_c7Ds?si=HOnFmVzb3Wf66duG[/youtube][/hider][/center][hr][hr] She could see it. Everything in perfect detail. A grande ensemble. Herself, asleep on the chair. Above, as if on a throne. Void, being hacked away at by a meaty knife. The sacrifice. Screams. Stabs. More screams. Again and again. His cries and curses. His shrieking plea for help, to be saved. His eyes, turning to her as he suffered and bled under the blade. Not her in the chair. No, the ghost who watched. Who detailed and recorded everything with perfect perfection. She reached out a hand, but felt a paralysis in her bones. She tried to step forward,but felt sluggish and slow. As Void’s bloodcurdling screams of agony reached their peak, begging for her to save him, for her to not to let him die. And then, a final stab. The sound of slicing through flesh as Void’s eyes glazed over. And the Butcher, a dark, monstrous silhouette, turning its eyes towards her. [hr] [color=7ABBFF][b][h2]”AAHHHH!”[/h2][/b][/color] Layla shot up straight from where she had slumped on the couch, haggard breaths stealing air. Quickly, a hand pressed over her mouth. Everyone was fast asleep in Sabrina's house. If they saw her like this- [i]Throb.[/i] Near instantly, the panic and despair Layla felt doubled in size, crushing down on her like a cement block. It was the end of the world. Her insides trembled against the all-encompassing depression shs felt, the pain of loneliness, of loss. She wanted to throw up. It took her a second to realize she was feeling the rebound of Mr. Devola's medicine. She had never felt worse in her life. Immediately, every sense clamored to go wake Mr. Devola up, and beg him for more medicine. Instead, she trembled on the couch, holding a hand over muffled whimpers. She missed Void. Void had been sealed in such a painful way, and it was [i]her[/i] fault. Unable to breathe, to think, Layla stumbled to her feet, and scrambled in the darkness for the front door. She dragged herself out of Sabrina's house, leaving her shoes, and leaving the front door wide open. She ran in her socks. She ran until she didn't recognize the streets. Until her breath came in shallow, frantic gasps. Until her legs begged for relief, but even then, the bleakness and despair welling within her still threatened to burst. It was too much. Layla collapsed on a sidewalk, tears streaming down her haggard face. She wept loudly, openly. Beside her was a shattered bottle, and she took one of the shards. Placed it on her wrist. Screwed her eyes shut. [i]Anything to release the pain.[/i] And she pressed, drawing blood. Before a gloved hand grabbed her roughly. [b]“What do you think you're doing to [i]my[/i] body? [i]My[/i] blood?”[/b] Layla's eyes flickered open, seeing Mr. Riil kneeling over her, disapproval emanating from behind his mask. She shivered in his grasp, dropping the bloodied glass. Mr. Riil raked his black gaze over her, before tutting. [b]“That asshole. I should have never let him get close to you. Now look at you, a sniveling, weeping mess. And it's not even my fault!”[/b] He said with a bite in his tone. Layla watched as Mr. Riil began lapping a long, black tongue over her wound from the side of his mask, and tears welled up further in her eyes. [color=7ABBFF][b]“I'm alone… I have no one…”[/b][/color] [b]“Yes, you're alone. That's how I've designed you, dearie.”[/b] Mr. Riil spoke matter-of-factly. [color=7ABBFF][b]“If they're my friends, why do I feel l-like this…?”[/b][/color] Mr Riil set his mask back on straight, and stared her dead in the eyes. [b]“They're not your friends. [i]No one[/i] is your friend.”[/b] He huffed, clearly irritated. His gloved hand extended forward. [b]“Give me your hand, girl.”[/b] [color=7ABBFF][b]“M-my.. hand?”[/b][/color] [b]“Yes. I'm never letting that sicko get close to you again. I have no idea what he did to you, but your mind has been messed with. It's [i]wrong[/i]. So.”[/b] His head tilted forward, daring her to refuse. [b]“Give. Me. Your. Hand.”[/b] She whimpered, and weakly held his hand in her own. He kept hold of her while his other hand suddenly plunged into her chest, pulling out a silver chain. From his own chest, a similar black chain appeared, and the two encircled each other in flashes of light. Slowly, links disintegrated and blended, until they were a single, unified gradient of white to black, tying them together in a unifying adjoinment. Immediately, thoughts flooded Layla's mind. Thoughts that weren't her own. She felt Mr. Riil's presence combing through her memories, and felt entirely exposed in a way that was similar to how she had been bound to Void. Mr. Riil growled under his breath, clearly disgusted with the memories he'd seen of her and Mr. Devola. He cupped a hand around Layla’s cheek, forcing her look up at him. [b]“You are mine to control, and no one else’s. Got that?”[/b] Layla nodded weakly. [b]“Good. Now hail a taxi. I’m taking you home.”[/b] Layla trembled a bit as Mr. Riil lifted her to her feet, unable to think or disagree as she called the taxi line, mumbled out her location, and waited. Not long after, a yellow cab rolled up. Layla dragged herself inside, and headed home. Uncertain, despaired, yet armed with a new adjoinment. One that would empower her as it weakened her. As was the fate of the cursed. As always was the fate of the cursed. [hr] [center][img]https://imgur.com/3Ptqh5t.png[/img] [h1]The House of Cards Mafia[/h1] [img]https://imgur.com/CvtdhWJ.png[/img] [h3][color=ffbafd]Phantasia Vorpal[/color][/h3] [img]https://imgur.com/UdFLdXC.png[/img] [h3]Isabella Blackthorn[/h3][/center] [color=gray][i]Hearts Club Casino Warehouse, Industrial District[/i][/color] [sub][b]Mentions:[/b] Britney ([@Punished GN]), Edict ([@AtomicEmperor]), the 317 ([@NoriWasHere]) [b]Direct Dialogue:[/b] None.[/sub] [hr][hr][center][hider=Jeris Johnson - When The Darkness Comes][youtube]https://youtu.be/V5lS6kBXWOA?si=vDDrQ-5MEPiwzJDy[/youtube][/hider][/center][hr][hr] It was deep in the night of Halloween, with festivities starting to wind down. However, across the industrial planes of St. Portwell, a lone warehouse stood against the dark backdrop. Its front was clean enough, with signage indicating it was the property of the Hearts Club Casino. However, the black SUVs parked in the back gave an entirely different, more ominous picture. A new car rolled up. Isabella Blackthorn, dark tresses curling in the wind, stepped out of the back, and headed past the men stationed out the front, and inside. It was dimly lit, with dusty floors, crates of goods, and tarps covering spare slot machines. Isabella dragged her sharp eyes over the scene, her sight drawn to the soft groaning coming from one of the dark corners. Bruno Arno was slumped against the wall, hands zip-tied behind his back. There were men standing around on guard, giving the kidnapped man the occasional slug across the face. Isabella walked past them with unfeeling eyes as she strode to the warehouse’s internal office. There were two burly men stationed outside, looking crisp in their suits. They barely gave Isabella a glance as she walked into the office. A grimace crossed her face nearly instantly as she saw what was inside. Flickering lights overhead illuminated the cushioned operating table that had been placed in the center of the small room. Monitoring equipment beeped softly from beside the table, green screens pulsing with heart rate readings. One man in a lab coat was watching the readings carefully, before he pressed a button on a machine. A muffled shriek emanated from the table as none other than Phantasia Vorpal lay trembling upon the cushion, a bit of leather in her mouth. Her body shook as the electrodes within the headset around her forehead shocked her with increasingly higher doses of electricity. Another shock, before the doctor in the lab coat pressed another button, and turned off the machine. Phantasia half sat up, spitting out the leather bit with a huff. [b]“How is Mother, doc?”[/b] Isabella asked. [b]“I wish I could say ‘better’, but progress is incredibly slow.”[/b] the neurologist said, going over his notes and sprawling out some new ones. [b]“I can't promise a full recovery at this point, but I was able to stimulate the corresponding locations in her brain where changes took place. She says ‘I just need a chat with [i]her[/i],’ instead of ‘Britney isn't an option.’ So we've gone from outright refusal to harm to possible harm.”[/b] The doctor said. Isabella allowed herself a small sigh of relief. Her gaze turned to Phantasia as the doctor began removing the headset. [b]“Mother Cards? The men are worried for you. What happened at the Elder Lamb?”[/b] Phantasia's normally placid face turned into a dark expression with bared teeth. She [i]knew[/i] what happened. But for whatever reason, everything she tried to talk about it, her words jumbled. More mind trickery. [i]Annoying. But still fascinating.[/i] She wanted to say she let Edict into her head to see what would happen. Wanted to see what type of threat he was. What he would do when his [i]beloved[/i] was threatened. She wanted to say how she felt the desire to see him again, against every logic in her mind. But instead, what came out was, [color=ffbafd][b]“We were talking before I was overcome with visions of paradise, and had to excuse myself.”[/b][/color] Isabella only looked at her boss with a sympathetic stare, before she turned to the doctor. [b]“We're counting on you, doc.”[/b] The doctor nodded, watching as Phantasia grabbed her hat and the two of them exited the office. Phantasia and Isabella took the metal grated staircase to the second floor, where her private office was. Phantasia opened the door, sat down in the leather seat behind the mahogany desk, lit a cigarette and placed it in her holder. Smoke curled around her hat as she puffed away. [color=ffbafd][b]“How's progress with the 317?”[/b][/color] Phantasia asked after a few minutes. [b]“We're really not gonna talk about how badly your plan went? What about Britney?”[/b] Phantasia took another long drag of her cigarette before speaking. [color=ffbafd][b]“The plan went perfectly. I’ll arrange a meeting with Britney. You don't worry about that.”[/b][/color] She blew out another puff of smoke. [color=ffbafd][b]“Now. The 317?”[/b][/color] Isabella stared grimly before she relented, sitting in the seat across from her boss. [b]“We got the sacrifice in the warehouse ready for transport. I'll arrange another meeting with my contact, and get this wrapped up.”[/b] [color=ffbafd][b]“Good. We need as many advantages as possible if we’re gonna pull this off.”[/b][/color] [b]“Yes ma'am.”[/b] Isabella stared for a moment. [b]“If there's nothing else, Mother…”[/b] Phantasia gave Isabella a dismissive wave. But as Isabella made to leave, Phantasia’s head tilted up, pink eyes suffusing the dim lights. [color=ffbafd][b]“Don't worry so much, my dear Thorn. I didn't become the head of this family because I withered at the slightest resistance.”[/b][/color] Isabella swallowed, nodded, and excused herself, softly shutting the door behind her. The butterflies in her stomach from Phantasia’s gaze caught her like a ghost, sitting with her for the rest of the night.