The Dying Light

Prologue

Cover by rxmantix

Izuku Midoriya silently sobbed at how much he hated being used. No matter how much he didn’t want those interactions they were forced upon him. He was only a plaything because he was a boy with a feminine body. Unfortunately this meant that he was currently being sold to people as a product, with no way to heal from the pain of that.

The wounds inflicted upon his scarred body were poorly treated, and yet he had managed to avoid infection for this long. However, it was unlikely to stay that way forever. In the brightly lit room every imperfection on his skin could be seen. The scars were aggravated and red while other wounds were still healing or fresh.

The room was cold. He had no expendable energy to pull the thin sheet over himself, causing him to shiver violently. Despite the freezing temperature in the room, keeping his eyes on the door was his only job. A single thought dancing in a sick mantra so loud it was echoing within his skull. 'I have to keep my eyes on the door.'

If the walls could speak, they would tell of the horrors done in this room. With half opened eyes he gazed across the room. Izuku’s once vibrant emerald eyes were full of life, but now they were filled with exhaustion. His muscles screamed as they begged for him to rest and close his tired eyes.

He froze when he heard approaching footsteps. 'Mealtime can't be now, right? I thought that I was done for today!' Who would be coming to see him at this time? The breath he had been holding was exhaled softly and slowly like a hushed whisper.

The strength his body could've gotten from the darkness had been blocked by the bright lights in the room and the cuffs around his skeletal wrists kept his quirk from him.

His mind wandered from the ever-present threat of the door opening. Of course, it was only natural for one to move on from painful thoughts. How long had it been since that horrid night? Countless days and nights he had spent crying and bleeding, his memories stitched together like gruesome corpses from his past. Izuku couldn't remember anything about his mother, except for her long green hair. If he was unfortunate enough to glimpse others from his past, it was nothing more than a blurred feature. Often times the features from people he vaguely remembered were mashed together. Maybe the eye shape of one person, the hair color of another, the nose of somebody else. The list went on and on.

His mind had shielded itself, it was why he was still alive. Shreds of hope were keeping Izuku going, and he mentally clutched to those tiny slivers of light. His life depended on not giving up. He didn’t want to die here.

How dare Izuku just go missing on him like that! They were friends, at least before they had been torn apart by the cards of fate. But that was before Katsuki had let his pride get the best of him, he had been so angry and jealous that Izuku had a cool quirk like his.

“I’m supposed to be the one the damn nerd looks up to, not the other way around! Stupid Deku with his stupid powerful quirk going missing. I’m the one with the powerful quirk, not him!” Katsuki growled within his mind. The hot-headed teenager let his anger get the best of him once again.

Still tacked up on his bedroom wall was a crispy piece of paper. Edges singed, turned orange and black in places it had been subjected to his explosive personality. It had once been a missing person poster for his best friend.

The paper was crumpled beyond belief, the boy’s face was no longer there. It had been decimated long ago with an explosion. The name had been scribbled out, then burned, with only the faintest whispers of ever having existed. Guilt, hatred, anger, regret, and so many other emotions surrounded the image every time he looked at it.

The paper was aggressively torn off the wall in a fit of rage. Being crumpled and thrown across the room with an explosion once again. The abused paper caught fire, resulting in a panic. Katsuki growled and quickly put the fire out with a water cup, soaking the paper and the floor quite thoroughly. The angry thirteen-year-old snatched the now soggy paper from its resting place, setting it out to dry so that he could hang it back up later.

Katsuki still held out hope for the boy he once called an ally, although it had been years since he went missing.

He shivered suddenly as the hair on the back of his neck rose up with no warning. The cause had been a breath whispered from miles away. He felt a strange twinge in his heart. 'What the hell is wrong with me? I can't afford to worry about that worthless Deku! It's not my fault the dumbass is lost, he's likely dead! Get a grip Katsuki.'

Neither could shake the feeling that something would destroy everything they knew. For Katsuki it was rage fueled by dread. For Izuku it was survival fueled with fear. Either way, round and round the two were destined to go.

The dull pounding of screams for help throbbed in Izuku's throat. He wanted to make everyone take note of his existence. His body begged for release from this prison, restlessness turning into complete paranoia. His mind ached for stimulation, ravenous for knowledge that was denied. Every part of him wanted to be free. He wanted this nightmare to end, he needed to start over. This life had lost all meaning, but Izuku kept going for reasons unknown. His fear pushed him forward.

Just when he was about to open his chapped and bloody lips, chaos came raining down. He could hear the desperate screams for help among the shouts for backup. He blacked out then and there.