Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Capricious Infection ❯ Act 33: The Humiliation of Ares ( Chapter 33 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Melissa Norvell/Revamp
Act 33: The Humiliation of Ares
Ares hung his head, gazing at Oz with a mechanical expression, void of any signs of life. It was as if he was a machine with no soul or life of his own. His black eyes bore into his well-bringer's, cutting through his shades and reaching his irises. "Why would you bind me? I'm saving your lives. These troops were going to commit treason by blasting you with Heission and taking your powers."
They were so blindsided and vulnerable, and ensnaring him in Calypso's reel of green energy wasn't going to help them at all. Ares couldn't believe they way they were acting to him. It was shameful for the rulers of the Planet of Scales and Balances.
"We met here for a peace treaty. They agreed to become an ally. What you're doing is committing treason. How dare you! You are the Warrior King, and you put shame to the Dius race," Oz was highly displeased to see Ares act in such a manner, much less make accusations like those. How dare he accuse their allies of committing such acts to cover up for his own nefarious deeds. The Dius of Time wasn't going to stand for any of that.
Just then, it hit Ares hard. He had been tricked into attacking the Diode race by Diablo. He had been consumed in Chaos, dancing like a puppet on a string to his whim, but why? Why would he go against his own pyrex like this? "Sire..." All the warrior could do was stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Just because you are our spawn doesn't mean that you get special privileges. You've brought shame to our people and I will not have it! As figureheads and ruler of the Dius race, I will have you sent to be tortured for your crime. Hopefully, you will learn your lesson," Calypso would have none of his misdeeds and she showed no mercy just because of their relation. Those who commit treason deserved all the punishment of a traitor. Her gaze was stone cold through her pink glasses with wing accents and her red lips were upturned into a frown of disapproval that beat down on him like a thousand pound weight.
Glancing back over his shoulder, he could see Diablo, standing beside of Tarvos with his arm around Pregmacia. From beneath his hood, jagged teeth protruded from his mouth as it twisted into a vile smile. Ares' eyes narrowed in malice. "Diablo..."
"What?" Calypso could faintly catch wind of something that her offspring grumbled under his breath.
Ares glared up at the female Dius, his eyes cold like hard coal. His voice came out in a rumble. "Diablo told me that my direct orders were to kill everyone here before it turned into a hostage situation." He was so stupid to believe him without confirming it. Why did he make such a novice mistake? Why did he trust that Diablo wouldn't steer him wrong?
Calypso glanced up towards Chaos, who stood on the ledge of a nearby cliff, his tattered and ragged cape fluttered in the wind against the grey skies. "How can that be? I was with Pregmacia until we were called back her to stop him." He had the perfect alibi. There was no way that they were going to believe Ares' lies.
"We were in another sector and there was the matter of destroying that rotting paradox," Pregmacia backed him up, but for all she knew he had no prior contact with Ares. She had been very busy with her missions but she always noticed Diablo around her. Honestly, the pink-haired Dius was confused at Ares' claims.
"Why would you do this to me?" Ares asked, his voice laced with anger. He scooted on his knees, turning in the direction of the three Dius who stared at him, on his knees, bound by the green strips of magic. He was truly a pathetic sight, although he tried to retain some sort of integrity by playing defiant.
"What are you talking about? You're mad," Diablo couldn't be any more amused. To see Ares in such a painful state was enjoyable. Yes, hate him, because that's the way that it should be.
"After the war was over, you wanted to create the perfect warrior with me. Does your pyrex mean nothing to you?" Was he really of so little worth? What did he do to deserve this sort of betrayal? Ares wasn't sure if he wanted to fly into a fit of rage or cry. However, his pride prevented him from doing the latter.
"What?" Pregmacia glanced over the man who held her waist. She was confused at why Ares was calling himself his pyrex.
"I feel sorry for this guy," Tarvos knew that he couldn't do anything about it, and as much as he wanted to comfort Ares he had no choice but to play the uncaring role.
"We are pyrex, Diablo and I," Ares clarified his sentence.
Pink eyes widened as Pregmacia placed a hand to her breast. "How can that be? We're pyrex!"
Tarvos' smile widened, "I knew it." He could see this coming from a mile away. In fact, he was amused with the predictability of it. Diablo had a different pyrex every few moons. It wasn't anything they shouldn't have seen coming.
"What?" Ares growled. Not only had he been betrayed, he was replaced in a relationship that was supposed to be life-long. He felt his blood pumper crush from an unknown weight. Never in his life had he felt more alone and hurt than he did now.
"What could make you think that I'd be affiliated with you by any means other than helping you in this war? I am Chaos itself, I bear no one's offspring, nor do I belong to someone like you. Chaos is no one's, you'll just have to learn that." If Ares believed anything he had said, then he was truly as stupid as he looked. What a shame! Diablo had thought that he had more intelligence was a warrior king than to simply take him for his word, knowing what his element was. That just went to prove that he was all brawn and no brain. "I am the disease that infects the peace of the Dius society. Nothing lasts forever."
"That's fucked up. You're an asshole," Tarvos frowned and looked at Diablo in disappointment. It was even more cowardly to play the victim in a case where he clearly was not. Diablo was spineless to do such a thing. Not only was he playing Ares, but Pregmacia as well.
"Tarvos..." Ares looked to the reaper. Through all of the horrible things that were raining down upon him, it seemed that there was someone who at least agreed with him.
Suddenly, Ares felt the cold metal of an iron collar placed around his neck. Calypso picked up her staff and pointed it to her left, straight out. She commanded them to take him to the torture chamber. Two guards grabbed him and placed shackles around his ankles and wrists as they led him away.
Tarvos's gaze shifted to Diablo, who folded his arms over his new pyrex. His twisted smirk widened as Pregmacia buried her head on his chest. The fact that Ares was being taken away didn't seem to disturb the contentment she felt from being in her lover's arms.
Claws drug across his face as black blood seeped through to the surface. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as the pain seared in his skin. His wounds stung against the air as his blood ran over his chains and iron collar, looking much like fresh tar. Again and again he was assaulted by the two guards who had brought him to the cell. They kicked him, punched him and beat him while he was bound. The dirt was disturbed around him, flinging itself into the air as their assault continued. Blow after blow was dealt as his white skin bruised black. He had lost count of how many times he had been hit. Over and over in repetition, the blows came relentlessly. Soon after, they turned into sharp pains as he felt metal blades plunge into his body. His skin popped with the insertion of the metal and Ares felt himself grow cold as he was left to bleed out where he laid.
"Filthy scum! You call yourself Oz's child? You will never be like the Balancer!" One of the guards scoffed, his face twisted in disgust and anger.
"I can't believe I took orders from you. Thanks to you, the Diodes withdrew from our alliance. We're at war with them again," the second guard spat, angry that all of their efforts had been worth nothing. If it wasn't for Ares, they wouldn't have to do all of this battling all over again. What a screw up he was.
"Piece of shit! You deserve to die!" The other guard shouted angrily at the broken body below him.
"I didn't do it. I was told wrong," it wasn't as if they would listen to him, but he wasn't going to just lay there and let them insult him.
The second guard placed his hands on his hips and glared down on him, sneering at him. "No one believes you. It's about time you faced your shame." He turned to walk away and took a couple of steps. It was all a blur from that point on as his foot came back around and collided with his stomach. Ares rolled over, dirt thrusting itself into his wounds. Intense pressure crushed down on the side of his head as the guard's boot rested on him. The guard pivoted his foot on the heel, driving the side of his face into the ground. His low, malevolent laughter sounded through the Dius' ears. "That's where you belong, kissing our feet!"
"Please...stop it..." Ares hated begging like that, but he knew that if he didn't give in they would more than likely crush his head.
"Who else begged like that as you took their lives?" The first guard asked, clenching a fist.
"Come on, let's go. I can't stand looking at him for more than five seconds," the second guard patted his comrade on the shoulder and the two walked out.
Ares listened to their footsteps, making sure they were gone as he wept to himself, lying in the dirt. Black blood mixed with the earth as the broken warrior king laid in his shame. After a while, his crying became more intense. All of the pain, both physical and mental weighed on him. The betrayal, the humiliation and the abandonment were pressing on him, harder than anything had ever pressed on him before and he felt himself buckling under the weight. Just when he thought he couldn't sob any louder, there was a quaint knock on the wooden door to his containment room.
"I said leave me the fuck alone!" Ares barked, unaware of who was on the other side. To be honest, he didn't really care who was on the other side. He just wanted to be left alone.
"I can do that. I'm actually not supposed to be here," Tarvos spoke. He had come to see his broken friend in his time of need, but if Ares was opposed, then he would have gladly left. Tarvos knew all too well the effects of punishment and betrayal.
"T-Tarvos..." Ares' pitch changed its tune into something softer.
"You sound so pathetic when you say my name like that. You're going to make me care about you if you keep teasing me like that." It was hardly fair that he was so emotional around him. It was bad enough the reaper felt a little sorry for him after he defied his well-bringers in the way that he did.
"Please...You believe me...don't you?" Ares' voice was hoarse from yelling. It was raspy and low as he shivered against the cold air. He wanted so desperately for someone to believe him, for someone to side with him. This was all a misunderstanding and because of Diablo, he had lost his respect and love from most of his people.
The door creaked open as Tarvos walked in. He slipped a little on the blood that littered the floor but quickly caught himself. His cell looked like a slaughter house room. "Your blood is black."
"Isn't yours?" Ares was a little confused. They had been created from the same person. They had to share the same type of blood, or at least that's what he had thought.
"Even though I am a mutation, it's royal blue."
Ares closed his eyes and frowned deeply to himself. "It's sickening," he hissed, "I'm probably the lowest color in existence." Even if he wasn't now, he would be regarded as one after he bled out for all of those who had branded him a traitor.
"It's a beautiful color." Anything was better than the reaper's own blue blood. Royal blue was the blood of the majority, the blood of the common and the reaper would have given it all to have an uncommon color or even a rare one like the onyx blood his friend was wasting in the door and rock floor.
"Shut up! If you've come to kill me, then do it," Ares glared at the reaper, who simply stood above him with the same impish smile he had always had. When Tarvos showed it, he usually had a reason to show up. If this was a reaping session, then he was more than ready to hand him his life.
"I wanted to ask you about your pyrexip with Diablo," Tarvos hadn't come to collect his soul just yet. There were a few things the warrior king had to do before he died.
Ares' eyes widened. "You believe me?"
"I do, but you got shafted. I almost pity you," Tarvos sounded more amused than he did sympathetic. Then again, the reaper wasn't without his own eccentricies. Ares was used to his awkward personality by now.
"What did I do wrong? I gave him everything," Ares hung his head as Tarvos sat him up, positioning him against the wall as he knelt beside of him.
"That's what you did wrong. He probably thought you were boring and traded you off for Pregmacia," Tarvos knew how the chaotic Dius acted. He liked the thrill of the chase. Tarvos didn't even know why he chose to have a pyrex, all he ever did was ditch them when he fell into a circle of monotony.
"You knew about that?" Was he really that blind? Was he really so blind that everyone else saw his downfall but him?
"He also claims that Maya is his and he has a thing for me." It should have been obvious to Ares by now what Diablo's game was. How blind was the warrior king's love, anyway?
"I thought you and I were the only ones," his voice lowered as Ares averted his eyes in shame and turned his head away from the crouching reaper.
"We're his toys. He doesn't really care about us." That sentence was said in such a way that it impacted his heart harder than anything he could have thought of. Ares felt the slam of the painful strike and smoky tears poured from his eyes as he wept. The warrior king felt so stupid. He had given everything to someone who completely threw him away. Long arms wrapped around him as Tarvos hugged him close.
The green strips of magic cracked and shattered as Ares was released from his spell. The injured Dius wrapped his arms around his friend and sobbed on his shoulder, burying his face into the light blue collar of his medieval clothing.
"Love doesn't seem like a good thing." If love was something that hurt someone this bad, Tarvos was sure that he didn't want to feel such a painful emotion.
"It fucking hurts like hell," Ares sobbed and heaved into his shoulder.
"I'm not good at comforting-" The reaper was cut off.
"Just...let me cry..." That was all that the warrior king wanted.
"I should have told you. I thought you knew," to Tarvos, it really was obvious what Diablo was about, and what he did to anyone who was as ignorant as to have feelings for him.
"I loved him...so much..." he continued to sob.
"He was close to me, too. You'll be okay," Tarvos closed his eyes and smiled, running his long, bony fingers through Ares' short, black hair. Even if he got punished, he would still endure the pain and move on. All physical pain was temporary, and all mental pain could be pushed back and replaced with new memories and better times.
"Everyone hates me," it was an undeniable fact and after his punishment he would be hated by far more members of his race. At this point, Ares was going to be an outcast for the rest of his days.
"I'm here," the reaper knew his words might not be all that comforting but he tried to be at the very least. He took Ares' blood-splattered hand and held it tightly. Lips pressed against his forehead in a tender kiss.
"You're my only friend," Ares' lips moved against the skin on Tarvos' forehead as he spoke those whispered words.
"I should get out of here. I don't want to be caught by Calypso. She'll make Unwine use his gallows on me." A toothy smile crept to his face, as if Tarvos were trying to make a joke out of a threat like that, but torture jokes were the last things on Ares' mind.
It felt so warm with the reaper around. Ares didn't want their time together to end. "I don't want you to leave me...but I understand..." His answer was reluctant but there was nothing that he could have done to keep him around, and he knew the consequences for doing so. Ares didn't want to screw anything else up.
"Don't tell Diablo; but I'm curious about things."
"What?" That line confused him, but before he could say anything further, Tarvos snapped his fingers and his magic binding reappeared around his torso. "Wait!" Ares called out, but the doors slammed shut and he could hear the footsteps of the reaper grow farther and farther away. All around him, the air grew cold and his pain returned. He was now alone, exposed and cold to the world.
He didn't recall how long he had sat there, drowning in the silence of his own madness. It felt like hours flew by. His black blood dried and crusted around his wounds and far off, he would hear an eerie, rhythmic dripping in the distance. Drip, drip, drip, the substance ground on his nerves and with each drip he felt a piece of his sanity chip away. His eyes felt heavy and his body shivered against the cold air. His drop in blood pressure made him cold and he felt the beginning of sleep settle into him.
Just as his eyes were about to slam shut and thrust him into a dream state, the door opened. Black eyes popped open as black shoes came into his adjusting view. Ares' blood ran cold and he felt his body boiling with anger at the very sight of them.
How dare he show up like this!
"I'll fucking kill you," he growled as his head snapped back up.
Diablo smirked at the weakened king. "I'm the one who is going to punish you, so watch your mouth." If he decided that he was going to get too big of an ego, the darkly-clad Dius was going to make sure that he cut him down a few sizes.
"Fuck you," Ares spat, "you betrayed me."
"Blame is the lazy person's way of making sense of chaos." Honestly, it was stupid for Ares to blame him for his own stupidity.
Grabbing Ares by his shackled hands, Diablo pinned them high above his head and leaned in close to the other Dius' face, peering into his eyes with that same twisted smirk. "Your use has expired. You're weak, and your blood is filthy. Some war presence you are. You let me win over you so easily. What fake advertisement." It was almost pathetic how Ares could call himself the warrior presence of the Dius race. He had the body of Adnois and a blood pumper like a marshmallow. It was disgusting how easy he was to conquer.
"I loved you. That's why I let you have me," Ares didn't know that his love had to be executed in a special way. He had thought that love consisted of the sharing of feelings and being open and honest with someone, not playing games and manipulating another person for the sake of being exciting or edgy.
He felt like a fool.
"You're too easily bought," such a sad sight that someone would be so trusting. Diablo didn't know how Ares would even think such idiotic things.
"You're a-" Ares started to say, but was cut off as he felt something penetrate his body, pinning him to the wall. His hook-like weapon stuck out from his chest. The pain was so immense that he attempted to yell but all that came out of his mouth was a stream of black blood.
"Too bad I can't kill you. I'll just make your life hell," Diablo ripped the weapon out of his chest, black blood splattered in a trail from the front of the wound across his black pants and onto the ground. The weapon hit the ground with a clank as Diablo walked out and shut the door behind him. A few moments passed before he came back with a branding iron.
On the branding iron was a familiar sign, the sign of his special type of Dius. A sideways sixty-nine. Ares' eyes widened as they laid sights on it.
Examining it closely, Diablo looked as if he were proud of himself as he moved the hot iron around, spinning it slowly as he glanced back towards his victim. "The sign of the Cancer, the fourth sign of the Zodiac and the ruling sign of the Dius Clan known as Karka, your respective clan." Dark blue eyes fell on the bleeding alien before him, doused in jet black blood that shone like oil in what little light the room provided. "The sign of gentility, nurturing, defensive, contemplative and conservative emotions. You're just like it, aren't you? You're self-protective like the crab, retreating to yourself when you're hurt. You are known to have complex personalities, you're protective of those you care about and you're a survivor. You're touchy and indirect, but you have sickening, dependable qualities," Diablo finished what he said and thrust his branding iron into the other's bicep. The sound of flesh searing filled the air and the smell of charred skin filled his senses. Ares let out a gurgled scream as the pain of being burned dug into him. His symbol was now branded upon him for all to see.
Diablo took the iron away and admired his nefarious work, watching as Ares' chains stretched out, taught as the Dius hissed in pain. His smile widened and he let out a small chuckle. "Come on and meet your fate," he grabbed his bound wrists by their shackles and jerked him up to his face.
Ares spit on him, the sticky substance landed on his cheek. The warrior's actions only earned him a swift punch in the jaw. He was then harshly jerked outside and dragged onto a wooden stage with several instruments of execution on it. There were two wooden, high-backed seats that were seated beside of a device that gallows were usually hung. In each chair sat Calypso and Oz and to their right, Unwine stood. They faced a large crowd who were riled up and sent out a mix of cheers and boos as Ares stepped onto the stage.
Ares slowly walked across the wooden planks. His chains rattled as he slowly drug his feet towards Unwine. Painfully, his body moved forward. His arm seared and his muscles ached with and Diablo smiled devilishly.
"He's all yours," the words poured like velvet from his lips as he handed the teal blood his blood-splattered chains.
Unwine gazed at the man before him, someone who was looked upon as being his brother. "I never thought I'd have to do this to my own flesh and blood." The Dius walked over to his contraption and strung him up by his heels. Ares felt himself lift into the air and swing there, his face pointed at the floor boards as pieces of dried blood fluttered to the ground like blackened ashes. "But you know all is fair in love and war," Unwine's voice then lowered, "and you know I cannot make an exception for you."
"I'll torture him myself," Diablo was sick of this brotherly moment the two of them were having. He wanted to barf it was so horribly bittersweet. Reaching up, chaos grabbed the clothes of war and ripped them off, bearing his nude body before the crowds. Ares felt exposed as shredded pieces of white and green fell around him. His eyes widened and fear and humiliation shot through him. "Now, hang nude before them all as you face your degradation!"
'Defiance until the end. I'll just keep thinking that...' He had to keep thinking that. Ares couldn't give in, no matter how much his body was broken and beaten. As his eyes scanned the crowd, he caught a glance of a very familiar figure.
It was Tarvos.
'I need strength...'
Diablo then pulled out a sword from a nearby wall that held a variety of weapons available for torture. He began to slash at the prisoner's body, afflicting one wound after another. Cuts appeared one after another as the cruel blade slit and sliced his skin. Sharp pains took over as he was viciously assaulted. Black blood ran down his body as cuts littered his chest, back, shoulders, legs and buttocks.
"Now, look on as the torture of Ares will be a reminder to those who think about committing capitol treason!" Diablo announced, his voice amplified the rush that he felt from causing his prey physical pain. Chaos was on an emotional high as he tossed the sword aside and fetched a whip with razor blades embedded in the end of it. Drawing back, he began to beat him with it. The razor blade dig deeper into the already present lacerations. By now, Ares' body was a road map of abuse and neglect. The lashes dug into him even more, wounding his exposed muscle and skin tissue. Black blood oozed down his neck, dripping from his chin but Ares made no sound.
"Have you nothing to say, oh Great Warrior King?" Diablo taunted as he continued to deliver blow after blow with the whip. "You certainly are quite strong. Let's see how well you fare." Chaos lurched forward, grabbing his arms one by one as he twisted them into unnatural positions. The bones snapped and cracked under his grip, busting them in his hands. Ares yelled out, due to the excruciating pain. He coughed up blood onto the wood, the black substance splattered below. As his vision faded in and out, Ares could make out the splotches of blood that had dripped down. He wasn't sure if it was a delusion or if he had truly been in the correct state of mind but his blood seemed to make the form of the Cancer sign below him.
"What a good idea," Diablo picked up a pail nearby, and walked over, sitting it below the warrior king as his blood drained into it. He watched as the substance gathered inside of the bucket. "Your blood will flow into a grotesque sea below. So cruel...Black...I hate this color...tainted and imperfect." He stared at his reflection in the liquid. "What miserable wretch is this?" He asked and dipped his hands into the bucket, feeling the thick texture on his skin. He then painted a large Cancer symbol on Ares' back with them and giggled sadistically to himself. After that, he picked up the bucket and walked away as the crowd's angry sounds amplified, rumbling through the Dius' fading senses. All around him, pain and anger reigned.
Ares' body swung back and forth as he was pounded with a metal rod. "You'll pay for your sins, my dear." His blood-stricken lips twisted into a demented smile. "Next time around, I'll be the one who fucks it up."
"You're so full of shit," Diablo boasted.
"I'll never bow to you. You should be hanging from this device." His body burned and ached as he was slowly lowered to the ground. Ares laid there for a few minutes before he peeled himself off of the ground. He tried to put on what was left of his pants as Calypso walked over to him. The Dius was on his knees before the mighty queen.
"Such a hateful offspring. I hope you learned your lesson." Reaching down, she grabbed his chin harshly, her nails digging into his snow white skin. Her piercing eyes glared down at him, then they darted back to Unwine, who stood a few feet behind her. "Do you think this is sufficient, Balancer?"
"I think its overkill for what truly happened," Unwine muttered as Calypso shoved Ares off of the stage.
The crowd became muffled as his body flew through the air. The only noise that was distinct to him was the sound of his chains fluttering. Black eyes slowly closed as he waited for impact, only to find that a hand had grabbed his. Ares' body dangled there and his eyes popped open.
Calypso drew back, shocked at the sight before her.
Ares looked up, weary and half-awake at the reaper who flew above him, holding his hand. "Tarvos..." His voice was weak, barely above a whisper.
"I told you, I'm here." Above everything else, Tarvos wasn't going to let him fall.
Suddenly, a sword shot from the crowd and sliced through Tarvos' wing. This threw the flying Dius off balanced and caused the two to fall into the crowd. As they tumbled through the air, Tarvos grabbed his wounded friend and wrapped his wings around him, taking the full force of the hit to spare Ares further damage. Tarvos landed on his back with a harsh crash. He then asked if Ares was alright.
"I'm so...tired..." Ares felt his head spinning with blood loss. Any moment, he could just fall asleep. He didn't even care if the crowd finished him off or anything. All he wanted was to be caressed by the darkness of slumber.
"Tarvos..." Pregmacia held a hand up to her pink lips after she saw the reaper go down.
Standing, Tarvos picked up the warrior king and held him bride and groom style, black blood flowed into his clothes but he didn't care. Getting blood on himself was only standard procedure in many aspects of his job. Smiling tenderly at him, he spoke, "I believed you, Warrior King Ares."
"Just call me Ares," the black-blood glanced down in shame. He no longer deserved the title of Warrior King.
"What is the meaning of this?" Calypso demanded to know why Tarvos would dare to stop her public humiliation and save a traitor. She pointed a long, curved nail into the crowd; her voice was laced with anger.
Tarvos pointed his scythe upwards as a purple and black warp hole appeared, sucking them in at such a fast rate that they looked like blurs of color. "Time to get away from this situation," he said as they were thrown down into another dimension.
Ares looked around him. This place he was in was so silent that he could hear a pin drop. The skies were cloudless and indigo and suspended above the two of them were nothing but winding, white roads. White grass waved around him, although there was no wind and the temperature was cold. It was a beautiful, peaceful place. Glancing beside of him, Tarvos stood erect, clutching his scythe in one hand.
Turning, Tarvos caressed the side of Ares' face with his hand, and only in that moment did he realize he had been crying. "Don't worry. I'm here for you. Now, more than anyone, you need me." His words chided the warrior's battered soul.
"This is all so wrong. I can't take it anymore." It was in that moment that Ares broke down. All of the strength he had shown during his torture was finally front and center, pouring out in waves of emotion.
"I didn't think Diablo...would do that to you. I guess I underestimated him as well." For that, Tarvos was disappointed in himself. He could usually tell people's intentions fairly well, but he was off completely.
"I am nothing...I fucking hate everyone. They can fuck off and die!" Ares clenched his fists, his form shaking from anger and blood loss. Right now, it felt as if the whole world was against him.
"Well, I don't want to fuck off and die, so I'll just be here instead," Tarvos smiled at him, trying to crack a joke.
A bloody hand was sat on Tarvos' as he cast the Dius an insecure look, "don't go."
"I'm not sure of what to do," the reaper really was bad at this. His job was killing people and monitoring the dead, not comfort and consolation.
"Comfort me," the words were mindlessly uttered. Ares couldn't take it anymore. The pain was too great, and all he wanted was one person to show him that he still belonged somewhere, someone to accept him, and someone to know that he wasn't the villain. "I want to be cared about. You're the only one...not even my well-bringers want me."
"I'm not good at this," Tarvos' words were awkward. He didn't even know what love was. What Ares was asking was a lot from him. It wasn't within his spectrum of possibilities.
"I'll teach you."
"Aren't you afraid?" After all, Ares just came out of the hardest breakup he could have ever had. Not to mention he was one of the rare exceptions of his position. Pyrex were life-long lovers. The only way that a true pyrexip ended was if one or both of the Dius involved in the relationship had died.
"This isn't love-" Ares replied but was cut off.
"I do care about you. I wished I know healing magic to help you." Looking over the warrior, he was shocked that the man was even standing. His body was riddled with lacerations, abrasions, contusions and puncture wounds. Blood seeped from his every pore. Truly, Ares was the true definition of courage, strength and endurance.
"Just...make me forget...please...do anything..." A touch, a kiss, kind words, anything was better than nothing at all.
"I can't do much but I can try...Besides, your body is pretty trashed," Tarvos held a hand under his chin in thought. If only he had healing magic, he wouldn't have felt so bad about this whole ordeal. He really didn't want to hurt Ares more than he already was...and that was rare for him, since he was usually causing people pain and suffering.
"Be gentle," Ares replied as Tarvos slowly and tenderly placed a hand under his buttocks and leaned in, nuzzling his bloody face. The warrior placed a hand on the reaper's bicep and uttered the phrase 'oh Tarvos'. The reaper had told him that this type of thing was strange and Ares wondered how it was.
Pausing, Tarvos looked perplexed, then responded in a low, calm voice. "Are you constantly supposed to feel this burning near your blood pumper?" His whole chest felt as if it were about to burst.
Ares' breath accelerated as he gazed into the other Dius' eyes. "So, you feel it too?"
"I do," Tarvos replied as his tongue drug slowly across the warrior's cheek, lapping up some of the black substance. Ares said nothing in return, he only placed a hand behind his head, burying his hand in dense, black curls. His other hand rested on the reaper's chest. Tarvos' smile twisted and his voice teased the other male. "So, you sure you want this?"
"Don't make me beg. I've been humiliated enough for today," Ares wanted affection but he'd be damned if he was going to be put through any more hell than he already had been just to get it. Fuck that.
"This is dangerous," Tarvos teased him. However, it was only partially teasing because even he knew that this was the type of situation that would pull them straight into being stratos or possibly pyrex. His chest fluttered and his blood pumper worked harder than usual. His breath was ragged and he felt an odd sort of peace. Usually, the reaper's mind was filled with haunting memories or locations of being that needed to be reaped and upcoming dates of soul harvests, but when he was around Ares, it was completely different.
"I feel something, too, but it's better than pain." That was truly all that mattered to him. Touching the reaper's skin set his soul on fire and it distracted him from the heartbreak, from the loneliness and anguish he felt. It took his mind off of things and that was what he wanted.
"Maybe it's lust," Tarvos purred as he laid the wounded warrior on the white grass. "Blood always makes me edgy."
"Then why don't you lick it off of my body? I fucking hate this color," Ares murmured. Being licked clean by Tarvos didn't sound like such a bad thing. Actually, it sounded nice...and kinky, but mostly nice. Someone who accepted his blood color enough to do something like that made him feel like less of a piece of trash.
The reaper moved down on him and gently lay beside of him on the pristine grass. He began to run his tongue down his chest. The moist organ ran down his chest, over cuts and puncture wounds, over muscles and crevices before stopping at the rim of his tattered and shredded pants.
"No, not there," Ares blushed as he felt his gut tighten. "S-Stop..."
"It's so good. I think I'm starting to like the color black," Tarvos smiled in between licking the blood from the injured Dius' body. The sweet taste of metallic substances made him long for more, made him lick with more ferocity than before. He was like a cat, cleaning her kittens.
"Fuck you," Ares cursed but was met by the lips of the reaper who was overcome with blood lust. The taste of his own blood filled his senses as Tarvos' tongue darted in and out of his mouth, twisting around his own. Their hands ran over each other's bodies as their moment intensified and turned into feverish actions. Ares tugged at the black curls, feeling them spiral around his fingers as he arched his head back. 'I know this is wrong, but he used us too. I want to comfort him in ways that I would like to be comforted.' The two pulled back, a thick stream of saliva mixed with blood trailed from their bottom lips as they panted heavily.
"Not sure if this is right, but I hope you feel better," Tarvos said in between pants.
"Can I stay with you until I get better?" Ares wanted more of this feeling.
"We can stay here. It's my personal paradox. I'll take care of you. It might teach me something." If this was what teaching him what love was like was, then Tarvos didn't mind these types of lessons.
Ares smirked weakly. "Maybe I won't be so bitter."
The memories faded from his mind after that, and the Warrior King frowned to himself, digging his claws into the rock fences that separated him from a thousand-foot plunge. "Even with his help, I was bitter. When I was well enough, I left and created this place. Tarvos comes to see me, but this place has yet to fulfill my ultimate needs."
Sawtooth glanced at him in question. "What are those?"
"I'm going to make Diablo pay for his sins. I'll introduce him to my Death Factory, where not a single soul gets through," a dark and sinister smirk twisted on Ares' face, filled with dark promise.
...To Be Continued