Feitan x Reader; Tangled in a Web of Spiders

A Gift from a Spider part 1

So, WARNINGS; violence/torture (nothing advanced), past rape, and recent child abuse/murder. Avoid if you are triggered by such.
For everybody else, it's a pretty great, but a bit dark chapter. 🖤

~ * ~

It was past 2 am, and you had given up on sleep, sitting in bed with a cup of tea, trying to focus on a book. The truth was that you couldn't get Fei out of your head, and your mind was busy replaying every minute the two of you had spent together, paying extra attention to what had happened earlier today. It had been more than twelve hours since he'd left, and you couldn't help but feel both a bit guilty and worried, knowing fully well that it was completely irrational. Twelve hours was not a very long time after all, depending on how you looked at it, and the probability of there being anything out in the city tonight that would be powerful enough to hurt him was... unlikely. You took a sip of the rapidly cooling tea, considering if you should go to his room to see if he was there.

You had just forced your eyes back to the pages again when there was a soft knock on the door, and Feitan stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The book fell from your hands and you scrambled out of bed, tying the belt of your dressing gown tighter around your waist as you rushed towards him.

'Fei...' you suddenly froze, he was completely covered in blood, and your eyes widened as you looked him up and down. His coat was so soaked with blood that it glistened darkly in the weak light, both his hands were smeared with it and his bandana as well as the visible part of his face above it was speckled with patterns made from small reddish brown drops.

'Not my blood,' he said as an answer to the shocked look on your face.

'What...' No, on second thought you probably did not want to know what he'd been doing, so you changed the question, 'Where have you been?'

'Hunting.'

'Hunting? Hunting what?'

'I show you. Have present for you.'

'A present? Now? Fei, this is really weird, you do realize that don't you?'

You imagined a smile forming behind the bandana, but there was no way to be sure. He held out his hand to you.

'Come, I show you. You trust me?' Dammit. Of course he had to make it come down to that. You sighed and reached for his hand.

'I trust you. You know that.' You slid your feet into a pair of sandals and followed him through the door.

He took a tighter grip on your hand and dragged you through the living room and down the stairs you usually took to get to the practice area, but once you had reached the lowest level he turned the other way and pushed a heavy wooden door open. It led to a narrow hallway that looked unused. Thick spiderwebs covered the corners, and parts of the walls had crumbled, leaving piles of rubble on the floors. On one side was a short row of doors and, letting go of your hand, Feitan shoved the first one open and went inside.

A single pale light bulb hung from the ceiling, but a small fireplace in the corner provided both warmth and additional light. A table with a mixed set of tools on it stood close by the fire, and what looked like a man's dead body lay crumbled next to it.

But the thing that pulled your eyes towards it was not that body, it was the heavy wooden chair sitting in the middle of the room, and the man that was tied to it. Sturdy ropes bound his ankles to the legs of the chair, his wrists were tied tightly to the armrests and blood had been trickling down his face, staining his shirt. He was slumped forward, chin resting against his chest, his blonde hair was matted with blood and dirt, and long enough to completely hide his face.

'Fei... what is this?' you asked, looking around with big eyes. You didn't really need to ask though, this must be where he did his work for the Troupe. The interrogations.

Feitan didn't answer you but strode up to the man in the chair, and grabbed him by the hair to lift his head.

'Told you. Present for you,' he said, looking very pleased with himself as he turned the man's face towards you. You stared between him and the man in the chair.

'Uh, thank you?' you said carefully. What exactly was going on here? 'Um, why do you think I'd want him?'

Instead of answering Feitan slapped the man hard across the face a few times, until there was a groan and his eyes slowly opened.

'You, wake up,' he ordered, 'Tell her why you here. What you did.'

'A... a girl?' the tied-up man croaked hoarsely, 'Run! Get help. He's completely insa... AAAHHH.... no no no, please.'

The fingers on Feitan's free hand were pressing down on one of the man's fingertips, there was a snapping sound, and heavy drops of blood fell from it down to the floor. When he let go you could see that the finger looked oddly squishy, and it took you a moment to realize that the nail was gone, the tip a soft and bloody mess, now pointing to the side at a sharp angle. You took a hesitant step closer.

'Fei...' you tried again, but his focus was still on the man in front of him and you didn't think he'd even heard you.

'Wrong answer,' Feitan hissed, 'Now tell!'

His fingers closed in hard again and the man blubbered in pain and fright,

'I raped them. Killed them.'

Wait, what? Did he just say what you thought he did? Somehow this strange situation started to make just a little bit of sense. A terrible bit of sense, but still. You looked at Feitan again, wishing he would drop the bandana so you could see his face. But there was no mistaking the contempt in his eyes and voice when he spoke.

'Know his kind. Where we grew up, men like him hunt for children. Many disappear.'

Where he grew up? You had never really thought about that, you knew that many of the original spiders were childhood friends, but you didn't know any details. They were all so strong and powerful as adults that it was hard to imagine that they had ever been runny-nosed and innocent little kids. Vulnerable. Perhaps then as well as now, the bond they had with each other was the only sense of family they'd ever known. Unfortunately that made sense. The man he was today was not the result of a happy, conventional childhood.

'He have worst luck tonight. Because tonight I hunt too.'

'So all that blood on you...' you asked, moving closer so you stood right next to him.

'Killed many. This one I bring for you,' he turned and looked at you, and you could see the frown on his brow deepen as he pointed out, 'Need to practice.'

'Practice? Wait, you want me to...' You stared at him, and he nodded, one bloodstained hand affectionately cradling your face.

'No want to hurt me. It ok, I understand.' his thumb caressed your cheek, sliding over the small scars he had made. 'This one perfect.'