Grian-based one-shots

Personality transplant

Villain!Grian au, what else can I say?

Requested by: PancakeTheKat

TW: mentions of murder, this is like a grim chapter in general so like ye

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'More than 5 months have passed since the execution of the serial killer Sam Gladiator , on the 12 of the month will be six months, and the people of many servers could sleep peacefully. But now they can't'

The small light that emitted from the television screen sent cold light onto his pale face. Those black, endless eyes fixated on one single dot, all muscles in his face tense and calm at the same time. The lamp on the night stand gave off a warm light that shined onto his face too, contrasting the dead-white of the TV. Mouth pierced into a thin line, all colour drained from its lips.

The television kept on playing.

'Let's finally admit that new victims come every single day and we can't turn a blind eye. Is it just an impersonator? The new victims were found in sacks, a trait that characterised Gladiator. Do we have any options-'

It turned off; the man holding the TV remote. He has heard enough. Pushing off the couch and standing up casually and slowly walked towards the wooden cellarette with a glass door. His reflection stared back at him with an unpleasantly cold grin.

He opened it, grabbing and pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He turned around and started walking away, sipping on his drink. He stopped. The robust and rich flavour with notes of oak, spice and vanilla came rolling down his throat. He took in a deep breathe and sighed before starting walk again. 

He started to look around the room. Nothing was out of the ordinary. basic beige walls, illuminated only by the dim lights of some lamps. The fireplace brought a dancing glow into the otherwise deadpan room. 

He turned to face the mirror. Dirty blond hair, beady blue eyes...He did not recognise the face looking back at him. He slowly set the glass down on the table, some liquid spilled onto the wooden surface, though that wasn't on his mind right now. His hand slowly reached up to his face, feeling his soft skin brush against his finger tips. The soft touching soon became more rough and livid before turning into pulling and stretching. The reflection copied all of his motions precisely. He still couldn't believe it. His dead eyes widened as he started to feel the inside of his mouth too, touching every single bit.

His vision started to grow blurry as the reflection kept staring back at him.

it was him...

----------------------------------------------------

Water surrounded him whole. His hands were pressed up against the walls of the shower, his mind traveling elsewhere. The warm water drenched his hair and body, trickling down his face. 

he closed his eyes, looking up.

He stood up straight, moving his sand-blond hair away from his face. His hands subconsciously travelled over to his chest, feeling the stitches on a recent scar. His fingers jerked back slightly every time they brushed over the it, stinging every time. However, soon he became accustom to the feeling, his hands finally brushing over the scar properly.

He turned off the shower.

----------------------------------------------------

A phone began ringing on wooden table, making an obnoxious knock on the wood. He slowly came up to it. No other sound was there. Just the ringing, his footsteps, and silence. He tripped over something slightly, some unfinished business was still in the process of cleaning up.

He looked down at the unfamiliar object- it certainly wasn't a contact he remembered. 'Mumbo' certainly didn't ring any bells in his mind. He answered it anyway.

"Grian, it's the 5th time you didn't show up to the architect meeting, is everything ok?" the voice called out from the other end of the line. 

"yes." his brows furrowed, answer cold, "i forgot to notice."

"any chest pains?" the voice sounded worried. "are you still taking your medications?" the man's eyes traveled around the room, soon spotting an orange bottle full of pills standing on another table.

"Grian, it's important for you to take your medication so that there wouldn't be an organ rejection." Mumbo called for him, the man just hummed in response. "This isn't a joke, Grian, think about yourself and Scar! You're engaged!" the voice sounded now frantic on the other side. He heard a few deep breaths being taken and some numbers spoken before the now-more-calmer voice said, "I won't keep you any longer."

He hung up.

His eyes traveled to his 'unfinished business'. The lifeless body of what presumably was Scar laying down, his glassy eyes forever widened in fear and tear streaks imprinted on his cheeks. What once was a person, was now barely a shell, unable to hold the soul of whoever used to live inside. 

He kneeled down over it, whispering into its ear. "it seems we used to love each other..." he smiled slightly. His hand cupped Scar's face, tracing the tears away with his thumb. He closed the dead-man's glass eyes. Kissing his cheek as the final goodbye, he took the victim's cold hand and a note, S.G was here. He curled up the palm, finally letting it droop over the now-still chest.

He zipped the bag right up, dragged it away.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WC: 867