Pandora's Box | 18+ (completed)

Chapter Forty - SLOTH

Sleep began to weigh heavily on my eyelids.

I staggered forward, spinning on my feet in search of Sloth.

"Easy. I want you to catch me," he had said.

Overwhelming dizziness blurred over my mind. The ground seemed to push back at my feet, and I gasped as my knees gave way.

My head became too heavy for me to look up. It was as though my tiredness had become a weight—an impossibly heavy weight. An ache spread through my neck like the fingers of a hand, inching higher and higher up my skin.

If this is what my friends can do to me, imagine what the Seraphics will do.

I buried the thought as soon as it rose.

I planted my palms flat on the marble floor in an attempt to push myself up. The air rushed out of my lungs as I fell forward, my chin hitting the floor with a painful thud.

All at once tears surged from behind my eyelids.

I was so alone in this dream; it was only me and my shadow, my thoughts and the hollowness in my chest. It was as though I could reach out and touch the silence, as though it was a living creature. The creature suffocated me, wrapping its long tendrils around my neck.

I shook my head rapidly and the dizzying wave became a blinding blur.

Stay awake.

I decided that Sloth was the most Sinful of his siblings. I could no longer tell if I was dreaming or if I was awake—I could no longer tell what was real and what was fake.

A soft sound sliced through the silence. I craned my neck to catch sight of the rooms lining the corridor behind me. Eyeing the first one, I shuffled on my side to get a better look at the rest. Part of me wanted to ask for help—but this was my dream.

Who would save me from my own nightmare?

Two figures were pressed up against each other in the second room. Bare skin on skin and caught in a heated embrace, the woman dropped her head back to scream.

A hand clamped down onto her mouth.

"Keep quiet for me, love," the man said lowly, thrusting into her from below.

It was as though I was peering into my reflection. The woman was me. I was the one digging my nails into the man's back and I was the one struggling to hold in my moans.

My blood went cold when the man turned to throw her—me—onto the bed. He pinned his golden gaze to hers. "I love you, Pandora."

The woman sat up, a faint blush playing at her cheeks. I yearned to be her—I yearned to be myself.

I hadn't felt like myself in a long time.

"Beast—,"

"I love you," he said again. "And I'm sorry."

For a moment, the confusion on the woman's face mirrored my own. Her eyes met mine and I jolted back at the pain in them. Her lips trembled, tears meandering down her cheeks in a path.

All I saw was red.

"I'm so sorry," Beast whispered.

He pulled the dagger out.

And then he stabbed her again.

I was gasping—I was gasping as though I'd been submerged underwater.

I wanted to beg the woman to stop looking at me. I wanted to beg Beast to stop stabbing her. I wanted to beg her to stop screaming. I wanted to beg Beast to stop hurting me.

With a gasp, I pushed my eyelids shut, my fingertips shaking as I held my face in my hands. Sleep nagged at me like a hounding animal, yapping with victory.

I have to look—I can't give in. I can't sleep.

A silent sob racked through my body as I rolled onto my back.  My eyes strained to lock onto the ceiling of the Unholy Court. I needed something to hold onto—something to drag me back to reality. The ceiling was beautifully blank, a canvas waiting to be tarnished.

The woman continued to scream. Her every shout was filled with pain; it was as if I could hear the life leave her; she died with every breath she took and slowly, her screams grew quiet.

The woman behind me is not real.

"I loved you," she whispered. I couldn't bring myself to look at her.

Beast was painfully silent as the dagger fell from his hand with a clatter. "I'm sorry," he said shakily. "I'm so sorry."

The dagger is not real.

Something spread beneath my head, like a warm embrace curving around my neck. I felt myself tremble against the moist, thick liquid.

Her blood is not real.

I sat up with a shriek. My body fought with the floor as I dragged myself from the pool of red that had extended from the room to me. I kicked and cried as if the blood would reach out and attack me—reach out and stab me as Beast had stabbed that woman.

Beast stabbed me.

It's a dream. It's just a dream.

The words churned through my mind like stormy waves. They crashed into my emotions and tore through my heart.

I forced air into my lungs. Forced it back out.

BEAST

She was shaking.

Her hands trembled as she clutched the duvet closer to her chest as if the piece of cloth would save her from whatever nightmare Sloth had placed in her mind. A single tear snaked from the corner of her eye and down her cheek.

Sloth stood next to me, his eyes rolling back into his head with sleep.

I grabbed him: his shirt folded easily in my grip as I shoved him into the wall. His feet were no longer touching the floor as he struggled for air.

"Help her," I bit out.

Sloth choked out a bitter laugh. "I can't. She's dreaming about her fears."

I let him go; he bent over, shooting daggers at me as he caught his breath. Pandora was in her room, on a comfortable bed, on comfortable silk sheets.

I doubted her dream was anything but uncomfortable.

"Then get her out of there," I seethed, taking a threatening step toward him. Sloth raised his hands in defence, moving away from me. "Wake her up."

"Why don't you?" Sloth countered.

I blinked at him, my anger boiling beneath my skin. "How can I? It's your Sin!"

"Simple." In three long strides, Sloth was next to me again. And a second later, he grabbed hold of my wrist. He smirked. "Night, night, Beast."

•••

If you enjoyed this chapter, turn that star orange <3

I feel like I underestimated Sloth's Sin in the first few chapters. I mean the first time Pandora met him he was asleep against a bloody window.

But now, I feel no hesitation in saying he is one of the deadliest of the Unholy beings.

Initially, I thought Wrath would be the most menacing but he's honestly a bit of a softie—

Thoughts?

Love,
Laila.