Plagued by the past

562 26 7
                                    

Hi! Just saying, trigger warning for trauma, and PTSD. Sorry if it upsets anyone.
______________________________________

Oliver covered his ears as Arthur screamed. Every now and then he would peek up at the glass. Objects, such as the small wheeled table and the things that were on it, were floating about the room. The lights flickered; and Arthur seemed to float above the table in fits of magic.

God, his magic is reacting horrifically. How long has this been going on for? Hours? Minutes?

It felt like hours. So long had Oliver sat feeling wretched, unable to do anything about Arthur's pain.

He heard a rap on the door.

____________________________________

Ludwig knocked on the door. He had been waiting patiently since Matt had dropped him off here at the usual time, but impatience had grown on him. His eyes kept flicking to his watch, but it didn't seem to work here, so he had no way of knowing how long he had been here. His phone seemed fine, but the clock was also messed up, for some reason.

Suddenly, a sound broke him from his thought. A scream cut through the silence, coming from the other side of that door.

Arthur.

Ludwig knocked on the door harder this time, taping his shoe on the ground with a nervous tick. Another frightened yell and he hammered on the door, shouting,

"OLIVER. Open this door or I will break it down!"

Just as he stepped back to consider how hard he could kick it, Oliver clicked open the door and stood there.

He looked so much different. His blue eyes looked afraid, and his stance was tense. His clothes were dishevelled, he had taken his bow-tie and waistcoat off. He pause for a moment, staring at Ludwig before rushing back inside; leaving the door ajar.

Ludwig hesitantly opened the door. To reveal chaos inside.

Papers were strewn across the floor, the room was a mess, and the lights were flickering. Oliver was bent over a bunch of scanners and a laptop, looking very stressed.

"What is happening?" Ludwig asked.
Oliver didn't even look up to answer.

"I gave Arthur somthing a little different today and his magic is reacting pretty wildly to whatever he's seeing."

"What is he seeing?"

Oliver ran a hand through his pink hair and flicked a screen. "No idea. My monitor won't work."

"Well what did you give him?" Ludwig asked, becoming increasingly worried, and annoyed.

"It's something to trigger memories. And whatever he's reliving, it doesn't look pleasant."

Ludwig finally looked up through the glass at Arthur. He was lying on the table with his back arched in what looked like pain. He breathed heavily, and clenched his fists repeatedly. As his fingers curled the objects around him seemed to float in the air for a second before crashing down again. Every now and then he gave out a scream or cry, but he didn't speak. His hands and upper arms were littered with small bruises. Ludwig gave a hard swallow and remembered what Arthur had said earlier.

No no, its actually my own magic that injures me. It's so that the mental strain isnt too much, whatever pain overflows gives a small backlash on my own body.

Oliver was looking at him too.

"Any idea what he might be reliving?"

Ludwig had a dark thought. He had only seen Arthur in terrifying pain once. But no, no, he couldn't think like that, it probably wasn't then, and there isn't any way to be sure; he told himself.

The England ExperimentWhere stories live. Discover now