Diabolik Lovers: Shattered Masks

00 ; survive or die trying

this is unedited, so apologies in advance for any spelling mistakes you stumble across - i just really wanted to post this ;-;

You are stranded in front of a mansion that is twenty times bigger than any house you've ever owned, fingers clamping down on the handle of a suitcase that has been sitting in front of your bed for days now. This is a decision you've had time to mull over. You could have backed out.

But if you had, then your niece would be the one standing across from this unknown location, and the thought of that evokes a feeling that's so much worse than fear. Willing yourself to summon the courage that had brought you here in the first place, you proceed to lug your belongings up the concrete steps, steeling yourself for what's to come.

The front door opens easily, and you invite yourself in without a moment of hesitation. It's too dark for you to wait outside, surrounded by the debris of a forest that's entirely foreign to you. Because - even if you will never admit it aloud - you are too afraid of what's lurking in the shadows.

You find a couch near the entrance and sit, crossing one leg at the knee as you inspect as much as you can make out in the limited light. The furniture looks expensive, and your jaw hangs briefly at the sight of a chandelier you had failed to spot upon entering.

You aren't entirely sure if you've been dropped off at the right place, fortunately, you don't have to wait long to confirm whether there's been some sort. A man in his fifties appears behind you, dressed in a suit of expensive quality, and it's by sheer force of will alone that you don't question why you hadn't heard him approach.

He introduces himself as a butler, and tells you that the masters of this house will be back shortly. He offers to take you to a waiting room and you follow after him, stifling your nervousness beneath a smile that's a little too strained around the corners.

The room he beckons you into is almost too nice, and when you turn to voice your concerns on it, you're struck with the realisation that he's already gone. Staring at the space where you last remembered seeing him, you wonder how you didn't hear him leave before.

With no other choice left, you park your suitcase at your side and take a seat.

You stay in that room for what feels like hours, listening to the odd creaks of the house settling in the background and wondering dubiously why it sounds like a horror movie in the making. It's not too long before you feel your eyelids begin to droop, and something inside your stomach clinches, as though reprimanding you for letting your guard down.

"Mhm, what do we have here?" A presence looms over your shoulder in the fraction of a moment it takes for you to tense, and before you know what's happening, something sniffs at the crown of your head and moans like a whore. "I thought I smelled something delicious."

It takes every ounce of courage inside you not to leap out your seat, afraid of what showing vulnerability will entail. When you finally turn, hands shaking at your sides, it's to the smiling face of a young, reddish-haired stranger.

He's in his late teens at most, with a hat perched atop the disarray of bronze waves smattered across his shoulders. His smile - a thing that looks too coy to be genuine - makes you feel sick to your stomach.

"Hands off, Laito. I smelled her first!" Another voice butts in while you're struggling to find your own, this one belonging to a boy that appears to be no older than the first, with hair that is blood red in colour. He drops onto the seat beside you with a flair of hostility, leaning so far into your personal bubble that it physically pains you not to shuffle away.

"I don't think that really matters, Ayato," The third arrival, much to your surprise, is dressed alike to a toddler. Everything about him screams infantility, so you suppose his attire - and the teddy bear held tightly to his chest - is as fitting as it is questionable. "So long as we get a taste too, right, Teddy?"