a/n: possible new series, let me know if ya’ll want a part two! i really like this idea, i hope it’s good :) and yes, requests are open!
you step foot into the elevator - feet pivoting as you face the shining metal doors. a breath escapes your lips. once both soles of your worn sneakers have planted parallel to one another inside the confines of the tiny elevator room - your chest tightens. a small rise of panic begins to set your veins aflame, and you know immediately - just as the doors are beginning to close, and a soft ding from the small speaker above the buttons of the shaft, you need to get out. you need to get out right now. your hand reaches out to stop the doors from closing, fingertips grazing the chrome doors,
it’s too late.
outstretched fingertips now grazing the metal of the elevator doors - a rise of panic in you settling in, and fear starting to take it’s place. your lips are parted, mouth dry and you swallow thickly to hopefully pass the nerves inside you.
the usual numbness that settled in your bones and weighed at your shoulders is gone. the reason to stay in bed in the mornings, the sleepless nights and reasons you cried - that heaviness - the lowest of low, it’s all erased and now replaced with fear.
you take it all back. you take it all back and you don’t even know what’s going to happen but your mind goes back to that night immediately as if something was reminding you of your previous desperate actions.
moonlight shining in from the living room window, candles lit, sand spread into a pentagram - your last legs of hope, your final cry for help in your anguished attempt to feel anything. to feel anyone. to maybe feel him again.
as you stand in that elevator, your mind reminding you of that forsaken night. when the candles one by one blew out as if a breath had choked their flame. you watched as a seemingly human presence filled the room. but you were alone, as you always had been. and you remained alone for days after.
the elevator neglects to move, your face feels hot but with everything in you, you try to remain calm.
the lights flicker once, twice-
then everything falls.
you’re being shot down in the confines of the tiny metal room, dropping through hundreds of floors - your arms coming to grasp the railing just behind you as you fall to the ground, your face pressed against the metal wall you were previously just standing in front of.
the speed of the dropping seems to accelerate, your face contorting as you seem to be dropping through thousands of floors - you can’t scream, you can’t cry for help, your mind isn’t working fast enough.
the numbers on the small screen next to the elevator speaker are glitching, rapidly moving with the pace of your drop as if it was some kind of roller coaster.
you wrap your arm around the railing, bringing your knees to your chest as the dropping seems never ending - and then out of nowhere you slow to an abrupt stop, body jerking in time with it.
the lights have gone out - the creaking of the elevator has stopped, your stomach has stopped turning. you relax for a moment as you blink your eyes in an attempt to see anything but it is pitch black. the only sound is the heavy gasps of breath you’re desperately trying to catch.
you haven’t an idea of where you were or what to do - but you unwrap your arm from the railing as the nerves begin to vibrate your being and the fear of the outside of the elevator begin to eat you alive.
you stand on wobbly legs, taking a breath to clear your head as you walk forward to the doors, parting your lips to wet them as your knees begin to feel as if they’d buckle.
as you stand before the doors, breathing irratic and heart beat a drum within your head, the doors part - a soft ding erupting from the speaker to daunt you as the world before you is exposed.
the floor, it’s cracking with fire exposed between and embers float in the air. lava is pouring from the confines of the ground, rock formations cracking and falling. it seems dystopian - like the world has ended and this is what would be left in it’s wake. it’s hellish, frightening.
a small clearing of the black rock leads a path to an unknown destination - and you follow suit.
your mind, as you take that first step onto the charcoal rock, takes you back to that night. was this the result of your actions? would your hopeless thoughts and grey days be defined by your one last attempt to be heard?
the air is thick and humid and hot - you discard your jacket to keep walking - the distant sound of falling rocks and molten lava spilling from the earth seems to be oddly comforting to your anxieties. the heat is weighing down on you, body begin to shimmer with a layer of sweat.
you hadn’t an idea of where you were, or what to do, or why you decided to follow the footpath but you decide to anyway. what else where you to do, you wonder. sitting and praying for things to go okay hadn’t worked before, why would they now when you seem to be in the confines of hell itself.
you’re wary of your steps, eyes still feasting on the ground and world around you - until you hear a voice.
“ah, hello my dear.”
your eyes dart up to meet a mans. he wasn’t there before the last time you’d looked up.
he was blonde, clad in some type of obsidian black royal looking suit. he had many layers to his suit, and a chain peeking out from the breast pocket. it hugged him nicely - he looked mature, clean.
he sits atop a black throne - seemingly made from rock of the surrounding area. two tall guards covered in armor - spears to their left are standing on either side of the throne. it all seems very royal - like some kind of shakespearean horror story.
but his eyes; his eyes when you met them - were pitch black. glossy as the orange lighting of the fire and lava bounced off his face on his throne.
he sat with his legs folded over the side, face sitting in the palm of his hands. he looked properly bored - however a smile blossomed onto his features when he said ‘dear.’
you swallow, not daring to question once more of the thoughts going into your head. you’d previously dropped what seemed a thousand floors in your apartment elevator anything could be possible at this point.
“y/n… y/n…” he spoke your name as if he was testing it in his mouth - his hand coming to his chin as he thought as his vision casted upwards to the tall cave-like cielings. his voice was deep, rich with an accent, and part of you kept yourself from liking it too much. something about him rang irresistable, you wondered if that was just an effect he had.
“you contacted me, you know this.”
“who are you?” you speak softly, timid and afraid.
he lets his head fall back on his throne, humming sweetly to the sound of your voice. he moves about like a character, you notice.
“you contacted me. wanting to make a deal.” he starts again, ignoring your question, this time bringing his legs over from the side of the throne, to stand. his actions make you uneasy, you shift a bit in your standing position.
“i-i…” his steps near you. presence even more daunting, if you could run away you would.
“you’re so afraid. humans,, so apprehensive when they don’t have the upperhand in the situation. funny.” he takes a few more steps, hands behind his back as he now stands before you.
his eyes, they’re like an abyss. you’re aware of how frightened you look, not to mention feel. sweat drips down the side of your face, skin glistening in the orange lighting. your fists clench and unclench in some kind of way to ground yourself.
he walks past you, inches away from your left shoulder as he begins to circle you.
“you called me, hurry up and tell me what the deal is about. i don’t have all day.” he’s now at your right shoulder, facing you. you’re afraid to look, instead you clench your jaw. your eyes are darting on the floor, uncertain of what to say or do. his presence, this place, it was too much. what was even going on? could this be real?
“if you don’t tell me i’ll take everything i want to from you and it won’t be pretty. what do you want.” he orders, stern voice making you flinch slightly.
it now occurs to you that he hadn’t a care in the world of your well-being or feelings. there was no way he was human, there was no way this place was earth, and there was no way you’d be making it out alive if you didn’t speak soon.
instead, you drop your head. your eyes closed tightly, and your fists clenched to your sides. “i-i…”
he sighs, rolling his eyes.
“you don’t want to be alone.” he breaks the silence, your eyes opening to peer at the ground beneath your feet - the bass of the sound of crashing lava seems to be music to your ears - the tension filling the room to the brim.
“you’re just teeming to be seen, to be heard. to have someone there.” his voice echoes off the walls of the neverending room. he takes his usual slow short steps to walk in front of you and turn his back to you.
“you’re so alone, without anyone.”
the tears begin to drown your vision an you can’t take it anymore. perhaps this was the hallucination of your delusions. maybe you’d finally gone insane from the insufferable silence. maybe the silence became so loud.
“you’re not hallucinating, my dear.” he quiets your thought.
tears streak down your face, face contorting as you let out a sob.
“tell me what it is you want.” his voice is softer now, his head turned over his shoulder. it only took that one sentence of his words for you to come undone.
“i-i just want s-someone to love me,,, t-that’s all.” you bring a wrist to your cheeks to wipe the tears away, your shoulders wracked with sobs as you let the entire cave, or whatever you were in, fill with the quiet sounds of your voice.
you were hurting. you’d been hurting for so long being so alone. like nothing would be able to fill that hole within you that had gouged inside your heart when he left. he was gone. and you’d lit candles and made stars in sand in hopes of doing anything to fill that void - to maybe hear a voice tell you that they loved you. and to wake up beside someone who held the promise to never leave.
“you’ve been hurting long enough, my dear.” he turns over his shoulder now, his steps nearing you again as your tears blurred the image of his standing before you.
his hand comes to your chin, bringing your eyes to his own, his palm moving to cup your jaw. he nears you now, closing the distance between you.
you opened your eyes, waking up at home. an arm slung over your waist.
One of my favourite details about Marshal Fashav’s appearance is how sloppily his face paint is applied, like, my dude you’ve spent how many years as a Tenakth Marshal? but your white base layer is still A Mess and doesn’t even go past your ears
Nowhere else is it more clear that Tenakth face and body paint tend to be applied by different people. The paint on his body? Perfect. Pristine. Lines up with his tattoos neatly, will probably not come off for a week. His face? Streaky. Uneven. Probably applied with his fingers in about three seconds flat and drives his fellow Marshals to distraction every single day.
