A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet || Ominis Gaunt

Troublesome and Unladylike 5: Tosser

You opened your eyes, and the first face you saw... was his.

It was different in this light. In the late afternoon, cloud-starched sunlight sloughing off his pinched features, there was a radiance to him you hadn't noticed was missing until now. You couldn't see him in full definition, not without your glasses, but even so it was the first time in... you didn't know how long... that he wasn't wearing that rictus grin, brows cutting into his eyes, cruel laughter spilling from his lips like black ink. He looked as you remembered in the past, endearing, sweet, handsome, if a little battered and marred with cuts.

Your senses returned in a flood. The scratchy bedsheets of the hospital wing, the sharp, clinical scent of lemon wash, and a sour taste, like you hadn't opened your mouth in months. Blood trembled in your muscles; your heart sped. There was a warmth in your palm, and your gaze darted to the side, to your hand clutched in Ominis' grasp.

You are pathetic. You are nothing. You are not worthy of me.

You snatched your hand back. This is all another lie, another compelling delusion. You'd fallen for his tricks so many times, each drawing you in more helplessly than the last, and you'd be damned if you let yourself fall again.

"G-Gibby?"

There was nothing but relief in his expression, but it pierced you sharply like needles. So long had you withered under his remorseless Cruciatus curse that his presence sent your anxiety spiking to critical mass. You scrambled back – only then did you notice another two people from your nightmares, Sebastian and Missy, at the foot of the bed. Sebastian's face brimmed with joy, and Missy beamed, a brilliant smile despite how exhaustion seemed to cloud her.

You don't belong here. You never did.

You know nothing.

They would attack you again, cast that horrid curse again. They'd make you feel pain and misery, over and over, as they had already, over and over. Feeling tingled in your arms and legs – you could move them freely now, yet fear drove a spear through your chest.

"Gibby—" Ominis said.

"Stay away from me!" Your wand, on the bedside table – you seized it and twisted it at him. "Depulso!"

There was a split second he had to register the spell – his eyes popped – before he flew backwards, hitting the wooden trolley about eight feet away. His cry made your gut wrench with guilt.

No. This is all an illusion. But then why did it feel so real? Why did panic consume you? Your courage had fled, your determination, broken into shards and scattered like dust at your feet. Despite what your friends were saying – about extracting some curse – you couldn't endure another morsel of torment. You wouldn't.

So you screamed and cried and flung another spell, though Missy deflected it with ease. Even magic doesn't want to protect me. You hid beneath the bedsheets until an unfamiliar voice intervened – Madam Blainey, who shooed your former friends away and coaxed you out of the blankets.

"It's all right, you're all right now."

"What— who—" Your eyes were so filled with tears you couldn't make out her face. "Please don't let them come back!"

Her voice soothed. "I can only imagine how distressed and confused you must be. You were under the influence of a Dark curse for a long time."

A curse. It explained so much and so little. "How— long?" Your voice was so rusty with disuse.

Madam Blainey took a breath. "Four months."

You couldn't fathom it. Four months of your life, wasted away. Suffering.