CW: Explicit language, ableist language, self-harm, s*icide, mental illness, imprisonment.
They slam through the east door and rush down the drab hallway, relying only on the hard sterling light filtering in through the lancet windows. The maddened horde lurches after, but they are sluggish from their high. With every second that passes, the gap between them and their prey grows ever wider.
The air is musty. Suffocating. Sweat dribbles down Rin’s face as he and Jun run hand in hand. Sharp pants and clamouring hearts oscillate with their hurried footsteps, boots scuffing against the hoary stones. He glances wildly behind his shoulder as they round the corner and he catches a glimpse of their guide at the head of the pack.
The Child's all teeth and sinews, with rolling eyes and unearthly howls, limbs flying wildly as he gives desperate chase. Bloodthirst contorts his visage, transforming him into something inhuman. Something monstrous. Behind him is the oncoming wave of his brethren, screaming, screeching and cackling, saliva dripping from their gnashing maws.
Rin gasps sharply and slams his feet into the ground, muscles screaming as he forces himself to go faster. He knows that if those beasts catch up to them, they will be nothing more than ground meat, mere fodder for the garden.
Suddenly, the hallway disappears, edges shorn as if a giant blade had been taken to it. Crumbling stones and mortar are buried under a millennia of flora. Before them is an expanse of ruins, the harrowed complex of the lost religion trapped in atrophy. It expands across the entirety of the clearing, initially obscured behind the wide body of the narthex.
“Rinnie. There!” Jun takes the lead, tugging the raven along as he runs into one of the better preserved structures. Vines snap. Vegetative debris rains upon their heads. The door groans open and they hurry inside, forcing it shut behind.
They grab the first thing they see - a half-rotted pew - and drag it across the door. A shoddy defense, but it’s better than nothing.
The Rat and the little lord hunch over and pant, hands grasping their knees as they try to catch their breath.
Within moments, they hear a surge of enraged voices and uneven footsteps, washing through the complex like a frothing tsunamic wave. The door is rattled and pulled violently before the horde surges on.
Rin pushes out a huff of relief, his heart pounding furiously in his ears. He straightens up and wipes the sweat from his face. “That was mildly terrifying,” he pants, mirth bubbling in his voice.
“Mildly?” Jun shakes his head, chuckling helplessly. “The only time I’d ever been chased like that was when I poked a hornet’s nest.”
“Why’d you poke a hornet’s nest? Did you have chronic gout?” Rin laughs and the clear sound bounces off the limestone.
Jun instinctively smiles when he hears the other’s mirth. “I was a curious child.”
“You still are. And arguably more stupid.”
Rin stretches up onto his tip-toes to fix the lord’s dishevelled hair, smoothing down those unruly coffee locks with gentle touches. The latter dips his head to allow for better reach, his eyes like sweet nectar.
When they part, Rin plants a soft kiss on the corner of Jun’s raised lips, humming shortly in pleasure.
“Where do you suppose we are?” the raven asks, turning his attention to their surroundings. He starts for the marble altar set at the end of the aisle, a dignified and sturdy structure that has withstood the test of time. Contrarily, rows of pews are near disintegrated and the moulded wood effuses an putrid, organic stench.
“It appears to have a similar layout to the Church. Perhaps a private place of worship.” Jun wanders into an alcove. Rows of wax votive candles are melted into an angled limestone platform, above which the statue of a woman stands guard. Jun swallows, a deep line furrowed between his brows. She reminds him much of the titanic statue of the Mother that towers over the Imperial Palace. Rising above the Blue Plains at two hundred feet, her veiled face is often lost to low hanging clouds or the shadows of the night. As unknowable as the Empress herself.
“What were they worshipping? Torture?” Rin wrinkles his nose as he studies a gory scene carved into the base of the altar. “How do you know so much about this place, anyway?”
“I’ve taken much interest in cultism of the Last Cycle. This one in particular has fascinating lore. However, it is the more bloodthirsty of the major cults, I find.”
“Bloodthirsty? How so?”
“Ah...they were rather keen on forcing people to bend to their faith. They even declared war on nations who refused to acquiesce.”
Rin wrinkles his nose, giving the altar an idle kick. Dust colours the tip of his boot. “I suppose some things don’t change.”
He hauls himself up and lays flat to rest his aching muscles. The sweat cools and dries on his burning skin. “I think we should wait until it quiets down. There’s no telling what they’ll do if they find us.”
“Tear us to shreds, I think is what you said.”
“Oh. Right.” Rin huffs and props himself up onto an elbow, watching the little lord inspect the alcove. “Trust Father Blossom to pick a place like this. Could he be any more hackneyed?”
“I am surprised that it is in such good condition since the majority of architecture from the Last Cycle has been so ill-preserved. Teacher Hak would be thrilled to hear about this. There is much valuable material here for the paper he’s presenting at the Scholar’s Gathering next month. In fact, he’d been brainstorming much of his ideas with me, which is why--”
“Jun. You should’ve trusted me back there.”
The lord pauses mid-ramble. When he meets those deep, pitch eyes, he feels a flicker of guilt. “I do apologise, Rinnie,” he says, frowning. He steps out into the nave, the soft glow of moonlight caressing his handsome features. “I truly did believe you were partaking. I was...worried you would become addicted.”
“You think I’m stupid enough to do Gold Blossom?” Rin snorts, flicking a loose chip off the altar. “Look, it’s sweet that you’re so worried about me. It is. But you gotta realise that I’m smarter than I look. People instantly underestimate me ‘cus of my face, but that usually ends up with crushed balls and empty pockets. So.” He narrows his eyes. There’s a cold glint in their depths, one that’s entirely unfamiliar. “Don’t underestimate me.”
Jun’s spine stiffens. Ice creeps into his vein at those three steely words. His frown deepens into a tight grimace. “I will not,” he says, suddenly austere. “I apologise, Rinnie. I will trust your lead from now on.”
The raven glares at him for a beat longer before relaxing his face into a grin. Glacial hellebores melt with a flood of spring’s warmth. “That’s all I want, little lord.” He slumps back down, laying flat across the altar. Lush locks, sloe in Luna’s radiance, pool around his head like a burnt halo. With his hands clasped loosely upon his chest, the Rat appears like a statue. His perfect porcelain features of the same marble stone below.
It’s an illusion that sends the lord’s heart palpitating. He feels a rising panic. It’s as if Rin were suddenly far out of his reach and he would never get to hold that soft body within his arms again.
Urgent steps bring him to the altar and the raven barely stirs before he’s pulled into a tight embrace.
Hellebores are as round as dinner plates, staring blindly over Jun’s broad shoulder. His spine arches under those large hands and he can feel the torrid pulse in the firm chest pressed so flush against his own. There’s a moment of stillness, or process, before Rin slowly wraps his arms around the lord’s waist. He tilts his head to stare at Jun’s sharp profile.
“It’s not a big deal,” he hums, eyeing that deep crease in the lord’s brow. “I’m not that mad, really. And you already apologised, so--”
“I missed you,” Jun rumbles, dropping his forehead upon the smaller man’s shoulder. “For six months, all I did was think about you. I was worried that we might never meet again. I even tried looking for you in the Slums and in the alley, where we met.”
Rin’s breath catches in his throat. He slides his hand up to brush against the soft hairs on Jun's nape. The colour in his cheeks darkens and spreads, kissing the tops of his ears and the tip of his nose. “...I...I thought about you too,” he admits, voice cracking halfway. But he doesn’t care. The words tumble from his lips along with his shaky breaths, beyond his control. “You’re the only thing that kept me sane. Kept me safe. It’s because of you that I...that I managed to keep a part of myself. You...saved me, little lord.”
The lord raises his head and draws back, surprise flickering in his dark gaze. “I did?”
“Mmhm.” Rin gives the man a tender smile, pushing his fingers into his hair to tug and stroke. He wraps his legs around that strong waist, locking his ankles together. The heat between his thighs is tantalising. The pearl in Jun’s long neck bobs with nervous swallows. “You may be a dipshit lord, but you really did pull through this time.”
Jun’s lips twitch. “Then I am glad. I only wish for you to be safe and well.”
A hard gust billows through the unglazed windows, stirring up the dust within. The Rat tenses when he feels a cold stream of air hit his nape. He claps a hand over the tingling skin and twists around, pulling himself free from Jun’s hold.
“Rinnie?” Confused, Jun releases him and watches on as Rin slides off the altar on the opposite side. “What is it?”
Rin squats to inspect the ground, fingertips sliding around a particularly large stone. He stiffens and shoots Jun a startled look. “I think I found something.”
When Jun hurries to the raven’s side, he sees that there’s a large stone set in the centre that’s slightly discoloured and offset. In fact, it isn’t at all laid correctly, with an inch rising above the rest.
Rin grips the corners with his fingertips and yanks at the stone. He intakes sharply when it lifts easily, sliding up on its well-oiled hinges. Musty air rushes out and brings with it the cold scent of wet limestone and still waters. “Fuck me.”
“How peculiar,” Jun murmurs, peering into the abyss below. Stone steps descend deep into the darkness and nothing more can be discerned. “Where do you suppose it leads?”
“Well, given that it’s a godsdamned secret entrance,” Rin laughs, a little manically, “probably to Bucky and the missing Roses, right?”
“It could also be a catacomb,” Jun speculates, rubbing his chest in thought. “Perhaps this isn’t a place of worship, but rather a mortuary, hosting bodies for a time before being moved below.”
“Well, one way to find out.” Without hesitation, the Rat scurries down the steps, not bothering to wait for the scholarly lord.
“Rinnie, wait!” Jun hurries after him, concern heavy in his voice. “Be careful! It’s pitch black in there.”
Despite the lord’s concerns, when they both reach the last step, the pitch black is tempered by weak electrical lamps lining the walls of this subterranean hallway. The wiring is shoddy and done with a clumsy hand, but it’s enough to light their way.
There are countless cells on either side with rotting straw strewn across the fetid ground. Windowless limestone cells weep brackish water that pools at their feet.
The eerie wind howls through the subterranea.
Heavy, rusted chains hanging off the walls sway and clink. There are dark stains in almost every cell they pass, inciting grim imagery in their minds.
“I wish I had brought my sword,” Jun murmurs, nervously patting his empty side.
“If you did, you would’ve given us away even sooner.” Rin shivers and presses himself against the lord, wrapping his arm around the other’s. Jun’s fervent body heat chases away the chill and sinks deep into the raven’s flesh. This guy’s better than a hot spring. “You said this was a catacomb, right? Why would there be cells down here?”
Jun shakes his head, eyes narrowing in consternation as he peers into the gloom. “I haven’t the faintest. From what I have read about this cult, the practice of imprisonment is not within their purview. Indeed, any judgement was of the spiritual kind, so cells like these were not required.” He pauses, his uneasiness growing tenfold. “Perhaps, this cult had secrets not yet discovered.”
“You did say they were bloodthirsty,” Rin raises, wrinkling his nose. “Seems like everyone in the Last Cycle liked to keep cells in their basements. Fucking perverts.”
“We aren’t doing that much better this Cycle,” Jun says darkly, thinking of the Rose Palace. He instinctively reaches out to touch Rin’s back, as if to assure himself of the other’s presence. “In fact, I’d say that we are heading straight for our own undoing.”
“Maybe,” Rin hums, hopping over a deep puddle. “Or maybe we’ll be able to break out of it.”
“What do you mean by that?”
But the Rat’s already rushing ahead, head whipping from side to side with an urgent look in his eye.
Jun intakes and hurries his steps. “Did you hear something, Rinnie?”
“Yeah, I heard...voices…” Rin pauses, tilting his head as he focuses on his hearing. There. In the distance. A scattering of voices. Crying, wailing, groaning, cursing, all entwined in an orchestral swell of suffering. “It’s further ahead.”
Jun follows the raven as the latter leads him through this prison, twisting and turning down multiple hallways until they find themselves in a large chamber. The voices are the loudest here, echoing off the sweating walls. Wincing and clasping his hands over his ears, Rin tries to focus on Jun's hand resting upon his back. A simple gesture that almost drowns out the discord.
There’s a single steel door at the opposite end of the chamber with a barred window and multiple locks. Unlike the surroundings, the door to this cell is polished and well maintained, with nary a dent in the metal. When Rin's fingers brush upon the steel -- the voices scatter and evaporate, leaving a painful ringing in his head.
"...I think she's here. The voices are gone." Rin tip-toes to peer through the bars, but it’s much too high for him to see anything. A few hops give him snatches of a vast room and lumpy figures strewn about. Panting lightly, he glares at the taller man, lips bared in a frustrated scowl.
Jun gives him a weak smile and glances through the window. In fact, he even has to duck his head to see better.
“Show off,” Rin grumbles, jabbing his elbow into the lord’s side. The latter flinches, though he’s much too patient with the impertinent Rat. “Well? Is she in there?”
Jun steps back from the door, face pallid and clammy. There’s a distinct strain in his eyes and a slight tremble in his hands. “...She is. And so are the other Roses.”
The raven raises a brow, heart thudding when he sees Jun so utterly shaken. He quickly studies the locks, inspecting the make and model of each. There are three - two deadbolts and one external latch. They are rather outdated and it’s so damp down here the pins are probably weak and rusted. He’d have to be careful not to break them and trap Bucky inside.
He slips his lockpicking tools from his back pocket, the wrench and the pick, both made from high quality steel that he (ironically) had stolen from his fence, Dizzy. Nudging Jun aside, he adroitly picks each lock, taking no more than a minute on each. By the time the latch lock opens, Jun has recovered enough of his senses to admire the raven’s work.
“That is incredible.”
Rin sniffs, looking rather smug as he tucks away his tools. “Eh. Almost every Slummer can pick a lock.”
“I see...is it mandated education?” Jun asks, completely sincere.
The raven squints at him. “...Yeah. Sure. Why not?”
Jun blinks at him, smiling.
Without wasting another second, the raven huffs and wrenches the door open. It swings outwards without a rusted creak.
For a disorientating moment, Rin thinks that his eyes are broken.
Around twenty or so figures fill the giant cell, some hunched over, others curled up on the straw matted floor. Though the light is weak, it’s enough for Rin to discern their features. Or rather, the lack of. Many are missing parts of their faces, eyes, jaws, cheeks, even concave skulls. A few wear brutal scars upon their necks like fleshy collars.
Only one of the Roses is intact and she sits against the far wall in a lotus position, with her back straight, and expression grim. Her eyes are downcast as she cradles one of these broken figures, stroking their greasy black hair. As Rin steps further into the cell, he sees that this figure is missing almost half their face, their jaw careening off one hinge and unable to properly close. Only a single eye remains, glazed and empty.
“Bucky…” Rin breathes, kneeling before her. None of the other Roses seem to notice or care that they have visitors. Even as Jun tries to rouse one of them, his deep voice gentle as he speaks to them.
Bucky raises her head and meets those worried hellebores with a small smile. “You found me,” she whispers, tiredly. “You took your time.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. There was a...ah...a little hiccup.” Rin frowns and studies the figure resting upon Bucky’s lap. “Who…?”
“Senna.”
As if reacting to the name, the figure twitches and trembles. Bucky hums soothingly and draws soft lines across Senna’s forehead, and the anxious Rose slowly relaxes under her touch.
Rin feels his heart drop. Senna. He watched her being taken away by Father Blossom almost a lifetime ago. He’d never forget the grey look on the woman’s face, as if she knew she was walking to her death.
The Rat leans back on his haunches, shaken. “What happened to her? To all of them?”
“I don’t know,” Bucky murmurs, blond lashes falling low on her waterlines as she gazes down at the poor woman in her arms. “But their wounds seem to be self-inflicted. It’s like they had attempted to take their own lives.”
“But this...is extreme.” Rin stares at Senna’s wounds, nausea twisting his guts.
“None of them are very aware, so I haven’t been able to get any answers. I think, once we take them to a safe place, we could try getting information out of them. But I fear that may take time. They have much healing to do.”
Rin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache start behind his eyes. “Bucky, I’m sorry about the knife. I had to make it look real.”
“I know,” she smiles, mirthlessly. “It had to happen, whether you were there or not. And...it was real. All of it.”
He doesn’t know what to say that can make it all better. In fact, he doesn’t even know if it would ever be better. Not for Bucky. He imagines being in the same position. Loving another with such devotion and yet having to witness their abhorrent, monstrous behaviour.
Rin glances over his shoulder at Jun. The little lord is speaking to one of the wounded Roses, holding their hand in both of his. Would Jun stay devoted, if Rin turned into a monster? Would he choose the knife or stay true to his values?
There’s something foul within him that hopes for the former. He grimaces and bites the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood.
“We need to get outta here,” the Rat says, rising to his feet. “Where’s Blossom?”
“He said he’d return soon.” Bucky grabs his outstretched hand and hauls herself up as she keeps a secure hold on Senna. The absent Rose blindly clings onto Bucky, breath rattling through her gaping jaw.
Rin nods, eyes glinting like shattered hematite. “There’s no stealthing this, so we have to be fast. As soon as we get outside, we’re making a run for the forest.”
One by one, they lead the line of wounded and broken Roses through the subterranea. Not a single word is uttered the entire way. Not even as they climb the stairs and move the pew from the doorway. They remain silent, even when they step outside and see Father Blossom come to greet them, with his Children gathered behind like a pack of mangy dogs.
