Page 41 of Plaything of the Dark Elf

Following his remark, I find it difficult to breathe. A massacre? To witness a massacre at such a young age must fuck with a child’s mind, right? Children aren’t supposed to experience traumatic events of that caliber!

Looking around the garden, it horrifies me to think that, at some point in time, there was chaos ensuing within these walls. Bloodshed and terror while a young Etheron watches. What did they do to his family? Was it as bad as the fate suffered by the dark elves who hurt me?

My stomach turns. It takes everything within me to hold back the vomit rising in my throat. Etheron watches me with a curious glint in his eyes. It must have been obvious, given I’m raising a fist to my mouth. I’m probably green, at this point.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” he says gently. He continues petting my skin. “Forgive me for making you uncomfortable.”

“...I should be the one offering you condolences. I-I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry for what happened to your family.” After fighting through the nausea, I place my hand over his. “Why were they massacred? And why were you the only survivor left?”

“I don’t know why I was kept alive. I often think it would have been much better if I died with the rest of them. I’ve lived through a lot of guilt these past few years, always wondering why it had to be them and not me. My parents deserved to live longer.” Etheron sniffs, then wipes at his nose. “I’ve fucked up a lot of things throughout my life. I hurt a lot of people. It could have all been avoided if I had died that day.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth. I’m the only survivor of my family’s massacre and I took that for granted. My parents, their siblings, my siblings, my cousins… They all died that day. And I couldn’t do shit about it. I was just a kid. What was I going to do against the bastards who stormed into my home?”

“Did you hide from them while the massacre was going on?”

“...It’s a blur. I don’t remember the exact details, but I think I hid from them once I heard the commotion. Through a crack in the door, I saw how one of them dragged my cousin out of a room and cut off his head.”

I shiver. What kind of monsters did this to him? Etheron was just a child!

I’m feeling lightheaded with this information. Closing my eyes, I tighten my hold around his hand and sigh.

“I’m so sorry.”

“While it was happening, I had the hope that I was going to find my mother and get her out of here. I was an idiot. I saw them kill her. They forced my father and my aunt to watch as they stabbed her multiple times and left her to bleed out.”

This is all too much to hear. I’m crying, despite my attempts to hold back my tears. The pain, suffering, and trauma he experienced must have been unbearable. How does someone live through all of that? How do you go on? I don’t think I would be as strong if I saw my family’s massacre at a tender age.

Etheron reaches over and wipes away my tears with his thumb. The gentleness in his voice juxtaposed with the subtle madness behind his eyes terrifies me, but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t run from him.

But then, I realize that I don’t want to. Deep down, I have a desire to stay by his side. I like the way he’s treating me. I enjoy this new side of him, the one he only shows me.

I’m scared of him, but I also find him fascinating. Attractive. Magnetic.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way. In fact, it goes against all rational thinking to be feeling this way. He’s scary. He’s not someone safe to spend time around, and yet, that’s the only thing I want to do.

Right now, it’s the only thing I’m longing for. I want to learn more about him. A small part of me knows that there’s more to him than this. There has to be.

This is twisted. It’s sick. It doesn’t make any sense and it goes against everything I’ve done in life. I shouldn’t be too surprised if this leads me down a path of no return. I’m probably going to end up dead.

And yet, the curiosity of learning more about Etheron and the excitement of becoming his companion both overwhelm me. They dominate my senses, making it difficult to differentiate between what’s right and what’s wrong.

Am I going crazy? Is this the end of my sanity?

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