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tw: violence (but you knew that)
Dominic sat frozen on the floor, taking hit after merciless hit from the man above him. He’d failed to even defend himself with his frail body, now a hollow shell of what it used to be. If his past self could see him, helpless and weak, he would have no pity on this “Nic”. He wouldn’t even recognize him.
Dominic gasped out in shock, feeling the man’s fist strike at his chest. Before he could even process what was happening, another hit landed on his shoulders, his waist, all around his torso and he was too slow to block even one of them. His opponent was quick, more than his exhausted brain could process. Dominic needed a strategy, but each thought was cut off by sharp pain shooting through him from every direction.
His stomach was struck and he bent forward, gasping for air again. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his teeth clenched as he held back the urge to scream out. The small bit of confidence he had just a moment ago was replaced by debilitating fear — fear that one more wrong move could end with him dead. He was shaking, his chest tight and hardly able to breathe. Yet as he looked into that man’s cold eyes, he saw no empathy in them.
Another hit followed to his stomach, and another, stronger than before like a monster acting purely on impulse. There was a metallic taste at the back of Dominic’s throat, and as another hit followed, he felt his breathing cut off and his throat fill with blood. He coughed out suddenly and it spilled down his shirt, the sight of a red pool forming beneath him making Dominic’s limbs go cold. When the man finally pulled away, he fell onto the ground, his fingers digging into the carpet as he coughed uncontrollably. His chest burned, so tight that he couldn’t even breathe.
In desperation, he looked into the other man’s eyes. “I’m sor—” his words were cut off by another cough, his arms giving out beneath him. He hadn’t noticed before how the world around him was spinning, his vision splitting into two.
“Do you think you’re a hero? Do you think you’re better than me because you have some apparent self-control?” he grunted, the sound of his voice as painful as the bruises over Dominic’s body. As he continued to speak, Dominic felt his eyes welling up with tears. He grit his teeth tighter to hold himself back, his jaw aching from the force.
I am better than you, he thought, without any strength to voice it out loud. He felt his heart pump hard, the sound of it against his ears almost drowning out everything else. And through his blood coursed adrenaline, turning his limbs numb partly from fear and partly from anger. If he had the strength to strike back, if he were the person he once was, then this would’ve been a fair fight. Yet despite everything this monster had done, Dominic still feared inflicting pain on him with his weak arms that couldn’t even break glass.
All the sensations blended together, and dulled by the adrenaline he could barely feel a thing. But his head continued to spin and his body began to slide down the floor. The man grabbed him by the shoulders, propping him up so he was looking directly into his eyes.
He only continued to talk. Even though Dominic was barely conscious, the man insisted on proving himself, how he was strong enough to beat up a defenseless man without his little minions. And he had the nerve to repeat Dominic’s words back at him, as if they’d have any impact on someone who already saw him as a fool.
If he looked behind him, he’d see the concerned faces of the few members who cared enough to pay attention to their “fight”. He’d hear the whispers between them, or how some backed away in fear of getting involved. Everything this man did only further proved Dominic’s point, that he overcompensated for his lack of intelligence through pure strength.
“Some advice; you’re not a hero, as much as you try and justify yourself. Whoever told you to turn the other cheek just said that so they could hurt you again,” he continued.
There were rules Dominic lived by that he couldn’t break. It didn’t matter how he was perceived in that moment, as long it wasn’t like him. It was just delaying his fate so he could live as Dominic — as Nic, as long as he can.
They weren’t meant to hurt him… Right?
“And don’t think anyone here is going to defend you if you try speaking up now,” he said, but Dominic could barely even breathe, much less speak up. All he could do was look behind the large figure again, taking in the sight of the other members as they witnessed everything. He didn’t need to speak up, they all understood. And Dominic knew fully well they wouldn’t do a thing.
The two students accompanying this man continued to stand beside him, following his every command. One of them, who looked like a Bradford, kneeled down and put a vial to Dominic’s nose. He instinctively flinched and turned away from the man, but the pain in his abdomen made him freeze up. As Bradford retreated, the vial was red. Was this all for the ritual they’d mentioned? He didn’t even get a chance to protest. And the sight of it full of blood made Dominic sick to his stomach. He couldn’t dare look down and see the severity of his injuries.
The man sat up and extended his hand, but Dominic had no strength, nor the will to accept his help. He was lifted up again, held up by his wrist and his shaky legs. He took a step back, leaning against the wall so he doesn’t fall, his heavy breathing making it even harder to stand. Was he hearing his words correctly anymore? Test? First test? If this was only the beginning, then Dominic didn’t want to know what came next, nor how many tests would follow. He should’ve known, that this was all a way to evaluate him. All of a sudden, the silence from the other members made sense. They knew, and nobody informed him. Not even Dante.
Rational thinking told Dominic to turn back now, to leave and return to his old life while he still can. But he’d abandoned reason the moment he stepped inside Ninth House. He looked into the man’s eyes again, watching as the image of him split and blurred. And even then he could vaguely make out his expression, the one that made his blood boil. Dominic thought, Fine, I’ll prove myself. And mostly out of spite.
A buzzing, numb sensation spread through his head. Dominic’s vision began to turn black, losing his balance just as the man let go of his wrist.
Everything went dark, and the next moment he was seated on the ground with a small freezer and the minion that looked like a Chadwick.
He slipped in and out of consciousness a few times, hearing only muffled fragments of conversations. The next time he woke up, he opened his eyes to a dim hallway illuminated only by candlelight. As his vision adjusted, he saw his feet dragging against the ground, accompanied by two men on each side of him.
“…Do you believe Enzo went too far?” one of them asked, likely Chadwick.
Then, Bradford joined in, “No, my friend, I could only dream of being in this poor soul’s place. I’d love to have Vinnie beat m—”
Dominic’s eyes snapped open and he kicked at the ground, freeing himself from their hold. The pain from the injuries hit him fully, sending him staggering back. He gasped in shock, falling to his knees.
“Ooh, good morning sunshine,” one of the guys mocked. In the corner of his blurring vision, Dominic saw them approach. “Did you… sleep…?” the voice began to fade away, replaced by loud ringing that only got worse with his pain. It felt like daggers, thousands of them hanging out of his body and cutting deeper every second that passed. In his disoriented state, he felt pressure on his arms, and the feeling of being swayed off balance as they continued to carry him.
But just where were they taking him? They didn’t even know where his dorm was located. He was helpless to fight back again, from the paralyzing pain to the dizziness, and the fear that these men would hurt him again. He hated this, more than anything.
Unbeknownst to Dominic, there was a woman walking down from the other end of the hallway. And one he’d least like to see him in such a vulnerable state. But as always, fate hated his guts and eventually Dominic would become aware of her presence.
Chadford and Bradwick took notice of her appearance, giving each other a smug look. They quickened their pace, approaching her directly.
“Evening, dear,” Chadwick winked, Dominic’s arm slipping off his shoulder as he stepped uncomfortably close to her.
“Do you mind doing us a favor?” Bradford interjected, stepping on her other side so she can’t pass forward. “This unfortunate freshman got drunk at the Coven and tumbled down the stairs—”
“—Twice,” Chadwick corrected.
“Twice,” Bradford nodded. “And I’m afraid we can’t do anything to help, he needs his mother. Maybe you can assist him, darling?” he raised a brow, letting Dominic’s limp body fall to the ground with a thud.
Chad and Brad quickly scurried to pick him up again, supporting him with their weight. They put on a nonchalant pose as if nothing had happened, and Chadford cleared his throat, “What do you say?”