Chapter Text
Chance hadn’t seen the killer the entire round. Seconds, even minutes ticked by without a doubt.. he didn’t even see the other survivors for the entirety of the round! Just flipping his coin in the attempt of getting his gun, while also rolling for lucky health.
It wasn’t until he’d eventually heard special music that he’d completely stopped in place, frozen. It was now LMS.. he’d hardly even noticed.
That music, a sudden voice behind him now, “Oh Chance~”
The voice, it was so familiar, but no.. it couldn’t be, he wasn’t.. he wasn’t here was he? There’s no possible way Itrapped could’ve also been forsaken.
Without a doubt though, Chance turned on his heel just in the nick of time to avoid a slash from the Darkheart sword Itrapped seemed to always wield. Earning a look of horror from the gambler, why was he here? He wasn’t hallucinating right, right?! This was real??
“H.. how are you..” The words slow, Chance choked them out in a faint broken whisper.
“How am I here, hm? Well, my dear gambler, it would seem even I have to pay for some sins and wrongdoings. Why else would I be here?” Itrapped’s voice was cold as per usual, the same tone he’d almost always used with Chance, except a little more loving as well.
He sounded like he cared, when he really wanted nothing more than to kill this gambler and end this round.
Chance quickly flicked up his flintlock upon the Darkheart being raised to slash him again. A lucky shot, right to the heart, or rather where a heart would be if this man truly had one.
Taking the time to make distance between the both of them. Though it didn’t last long, his weakness was still high and too caught up in the rush of getting away, he’d hardly noticed the other there again. Earning a hefty blow from the sword the man carried.
The timer continued to tick down, it almost seemed slower this time in comparison to all the other LMS moments. It was as if the Spectre was purposefully taunting Chance, playing with him as it always played with all of them. A puppeteer playing with all their strings, all the controls.
Flipping another coin, he had another round in his gun, ready to use when it was most needed. Though right at the moment where he’d lifted his flintlock to shoot, he was stabbed. Health depleting rapidly while his gun had also apparently exploded at the same time.
All this earning a dark chuckle from Itrapped. Seeing the poor man so close to death, on his final.. faintest breath.
“W.. wait.. can’t we.. can’t we make a deal.. or something?” Words slow and faintly stuttered, it was clear Chance was just about ready to make any deal in the hopes he might survive this LMS.
He would survive anyways, all of them would. Every time they were killed, they were always brought back to that main.. cursed cabin, keeling over sometimes in pain or sheer agony from the previous wounds they might’ve been given by the killers. Almost like phantom pain, though not quite. It still hurt to die like this during the rounds though.
“A deal? Mi querido.. do you remember what happened the last time you made a deal with me?” Itrapped grinned darkly at his own question, remembering just what happened. It’s kind of how Chance got forsakened in the first place. Not even being given the chance to get a proper death. No.. he was snatched from his death bed by this cursed Spectre.
“I.. I remember. I don’t want to..” All this stuttering merely gave the other a thrill, he loved seeing his gambler so weak and vulnerable. Seemingly begging for something he would never actually get.
“Well too bad!” A quick exclamation before the tall man knocked Chance to the ground, Darkheart lifted before abruptly piercing through the gambler’s chest.
It was then that the round had ended. Itrapped had emerged as the victor to this long fought round and all the survivors as well as the killer for this round had reappeared in that damn cabin. The main area.
A few of the survivors glanced at each other when they noticed Chance rush out to one of the cabins outside of this one, the one that was his. Each of the survivors had a cabin, unless they wished to share with specific people. Same went for the killers.
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Chance, now standing in front of a mirror, just gazed off into the endless abyss that was his own very eyes. Still not believing the last round. Itrapped was here.. he was one of the killers, and now.. Chance had to forever suffer some eternities with the man that killed him off in the past.
What an unfortunate turn of events.
He bawled his eyes out, crying heavily. Vulnerable. Yet no one bothered him not once, only the faint knock at the door followed by footsteps getting closer could be heard.
Chance didn’t even have a moment to prepare until he felt those familiar hands on him and the cold voice of his “beloved”.
“Mi querido.. why do you cry at my arrival each time?” Words cold and a bit of fake sadness at the idea. Amusement faintly peaking through.
Chance couldn’t answer, why would he? He still refused to believe this was real, that Itrapped was truly here. The gambler pushing him away slightly as he leaned over the sink. Hair pooling down his shoulders, black shades long since discarded on a table somewhere.
Itrapped didn’t get pushed away too far and certainly wasn’t deterred by the action. In fact, it had only served to amuse him even more. Stepping back close and wrapping his arms around the others’ waist from behind, smiling when his sweet gambler hadn’t even bothered to shove him away this time. Accepting the action without a doubt.
“Are you beginning to realize your position in this situation, my sweet gambler?” Sweet gambler.. the term of endearment that Chance’s naïve self had always enjoyed in the past, loved it even. But now.. it only held a cold weight that he wished would just disappear already.
The voice of the gambler was soft, a bit broken, “I have.”
Earning more fuel into the cruel, dark amusement that Itrapped possessed. Chance’s pain and hurt had fed this man. Filled his cold heart to the brim, “Good. At least you’re starting to know your place.”
Finally holding even the faintest bit of power that he’d always desired over this man, Itrapped had brought a hand up to push away some of the long gray strands of hair covering the other’s neck and bring his lips to it. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin.
Chance whimpered faintly from the touch, from the feel of the man’s lips on him again. Just like old times, except this time it was much more needed. Not even putting a bit of care into some of the actions as if Chance’s own comfortability didn’t matter.
Itrapped was here again after all, and he would very much be taking what he wanted, when he wanted. At any cost. So long as there were no distractions, or moments that would make him see the situation in a different way, then everything would continue like this. Cycle once more as it had in the past, pre-forsaken.
His lips trailed up slightly to more sensitive skin, nibbling on the other’s earlobes before eventually scooping up the gambler into his arms. Awfully.. gentle.. which was much unlike him.
He was supposed to be manhandling the other, not treating him like a princess. Not being kind and soft.. or caring. He was supposed to hurt him.
Yet here he was, failing to commit his time to such actions.