#Atsushi showed him kindness earlier too but Dazai CHOSE him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auroreswritings · 5 years

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Day 6! The prompt I chose for today is Ritual, although there’s a bit of candle and demon stuff going on. I’m proud I managed to get it out today, the universe has been trying to prevent me to work in this, but I managed and here it is, on time!!

It’s pretty graphic, rated M on AO3 for violence, there’s some kind of torture happening at some point. The story revolves around serial murders. Definitely not something that anyone can read.

Actually came up with my own character, an ability user based on a famous writer, I won’t be saying anything more or it’d spoil the story a little. It was fun to think about a new ability, from choosing the name to deciding how it works, I’d love to do more of that in the future!

Now, without further delay, please enjoy!

Meurtres en Série

It was the fourth murder this month. The modus operandi was always the same: a circle painted in black was adorned with several red-painted alchemical symbols, black candles were positioned around the circle at each cardinal point and right in its center was placed the naked, hardly recognizable body. On their foreheads were always the same letters, traced with the victim’s own blood: AC. The bodies were always found on a Saturday, with a time of death always estimated between 12AM and 3AM on that same day.

This was Atsushi’s first serial murder case. He and Dazai were currently assisting the police; they suspected the murderer to be a particularly vicious ability user, and Dazai’s connections with the underground could prove useful. As usual, the crime scene was particularly nasty, and Atsushi was feeling sick to his stomach from the smells and the sight before him. This investigation was starting to take its toll on him: he wanted to offer justice to the victims for their gruesome death, but as the body count went up, the clues and leads went down. No similar cases had ever been recorded, even in other countries: Ango, who was also on the case, had asked around official ability users’ agencies all over the globe, but to no avail. No one had ever heard of such murder methods, and even the letters AC weren’t revealing their secrets. To top it all, the victims had nothing in common, all of different ages, sex, social classes. No link had been established between any of them; it seemed they were just unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, coming across the killer as he was looking for his next prey.

Atsushi and Dazai were being filled in on the details of this new murder, the younger man trying to keep his eyes away from the corpse as much as possible. After their talk with the officers, Dazai went to take a peek at the body and examine the scene for himself while Atsushi walked away to the poor man who had found the body this time. He was a simple construction worker, and had found the corpse when he had arrived at his machineries’ parking lot this morning, hidden away behind a dump truck. The weretiger sat with him, drinking tea and asking the man a few complementary questions while waiting for his partner.

Once Dazai was done, they went back to the agency, in silence. Atsushi could see that Dazai was deep in thoughts, his usual playful-self long gone since the case had started to drag on. They were both worried and stressed from this investigation; the younger man could guess that his mentor was in the same lost state has he was himself, which he had never seen happen before. This whole case felt like a disaster, and for it to be Atsushi’s first brush with a serial killer was demeaning. He had wanted to prove himself so much, and there he was now, completely defeated and unsure of what would happen next.

Back at the office, the two men went straight for the white board displaying all the information they had on the case and added the new ones they gathered today. Headshot photos of the victims were displayed along with pictures of the crime scenes, important facts on their lives summarized under them. A detailed description of the murderer’s modus operandi was written on the left-hand side of the board, while a map of Yokohama with the location of the homicides was fixed on the other side. Atsushi started putting the new photos up while Dazai had his eyes on the map, searching the exact building this morning’s killing at taken place at. As he circled the location with a red marker, his hand stopped halfway, his body noticeably tensing. Atsushi, sensing the change in his mentor’s attitude, turned his head to him with slight curiosity. His eyes were scrutinizing the taller man’s face. His expression had completely shifted from what it was earlier. His gaze was glinting with new found determination and a smug smirk was twisting the corners of his mouth. Without a single word, Dazai finished his circle on the map and looked back at Atsushi; a cryptic aura was surrounding him. The weretiger knew exactly what this meant: the man had cracked the case, or at least found something significant that could help them finally catch the criminal they were after.

“-My dear Atsushi, I know where the next murder will take place.”

A week had passed, and the two detectives were now ready to confront the culprit. The plan was simple: get to the location of the next killing and catch the assassin before he could attack his next victim. Dazai hadn’t said much about his findings, only that the locations of the murders were forming a pentagram, the fifth one they would prevent today being the final corner of the shape. Atsushi didn’t have a real idea of how they would catch the killer, but Dazai seemed to have a plan, and he trusted him.

They arrived at the abandoned warehouse on the harbor. The sun had set some time ago; murder hour was approaching. The area was already pretty quiet and, unbeknownst to Atsushi, Dazai had made sure the police had evacuated all the streets and buildings around, insuring there wouldn’t be unnecessary victims. He had asked Atsushi to patrol on the western and southern sides of the building, close to the entrance, and to pretend he was a worker hanging around the docks as to not arouse suspicion. Dazai was to watch the east and north parts of the area. Everything was calm, only the sound of the ocean waves nearby was breaking the silence, bringing a false sense of peace. Atsushi was pacing around, not really sure how to look like he belonged here but trying hard nonetheless. They had been waiting for a couple hours now, it was nearing 1AM. The late hour was starting to make him nervous. He didn’t want to doubt Dazai, as he knew the man had a great mind, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, they were at the wrong location and they wouldn’t be able to stop the killer tonight. He didn’t know if he could handle seeing another disfigured corpse. As these dark anxieties were gnawing at his mind, the temperature around seemed to lower a little. Atsushi shivered, the cold and his apprehensions crawling through his body. He let out a sigh and cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together.

Without a single noise, a hand suddenly reached out of the dark and landed on his nose, rough piece of cloth clogging his nostrils. The acrid smell coming from it immediately burnt Atsushi’s insides. A strong arm wrapped around his neck, and he tried to rip it away from him, without success. He struggled with his attacker for some time, but they were stronger than him. As the awful smell filled in his lungs, Atsushi’s vision was blurring. He could feel his strength leaving him slowly, his mind unable to focus, his eyes closing on their own. As much as he tried to fight, he soon blacked out.

The first thing he felt was the sharp, needle-like pain in his head. He tried to grab it in his hands, but his muscles were hardly answering, limbs sluggish and aching. The second thing he felt was the strong urge to vomit. It felt as though his body was spinning around in the air, yet he could feel the cold, sturdy ground under him. Laboriously, he managed to lie on his side instead of his back, trying to breath as deeply as he could to avoid being sick. He finally managed to open his eyes, and the sight in front of him chilled him to the bones. He was inside a dark, unknown building, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside. On the floor all around him was traced what looked like a circle, strange signs painted in red surrounding his head and body. He knew exactly what this was: he was about to become the serial killer’s fifth victim. The candles had yet to be lit, he was still unharmed as far as he could tell and his forehead was clear of any marking. As his fingers were grazing his face, a hoarse voice erupted from an unlit corner of the room:

“-You have woken up at last. Welcome to the sacrifice, boy.”

Atsushi stirred frantically, trying get up. His body still felt heavy, he could hardly curl his knees, even less lift his chest up.

“-Now, there is absolutely no need to move, boy. See, the circle you are finding yourself in, it has some… let us call them proprieties, shall we? One of these proprieties is to keep you from running away. You should not even be able to raise your little finger; you must be incredibly strong to move this much…” A wicked laugh followed. “To think I found such a powerful offering for You, my Master…” The evil laughter started again.

The weretiger could feel panic rising inside of him. What could he possibly do? He let out a muffled groan; even his voice seemed to be restrained. The voice resounded again:

“-You cannot speak either, at least for now. My Master does not appreciate unnecessary talking. Do not fret! You shall find your voice back soon enough. As soon as we get started actually. He may not enjoy futile babbling, but screams of agony are a delight to His ears.” A sinister chuckle followed this statement.

What was Dazai doing? Had he been caught too? Atsushi’s mind was racing, trying to think of anything that could help him. Hopefully his mentor would show up soon, he was his last resort now. As Atsushi was trying to send telepathic messages to the older man, heavy steps resounded through the warehouse. They were approaching the poor man on the ground, slowly. Turning his head to the sound, Atsushi could see the silhouette of the man appearing in a puddle of light coming in from a window. He was wearing a maroon three-piece with a white shirt underneath, dark brown oxford shoes on his feet. Around his neck was a bow tie, cream with dark red flowers. A gold chain was slinging from a pocket of his waistcoat, a cream pocket square was tucked in the pocket of his jacket. His face became more and more visible as he walked into the light. He was a rather young man, a little older than Atsushi. A crazy mop of brown hair was hanging over grenadine eyes. His traits were delicate, a staggering contrast with the rough voice that shot out his rosy lips:

“-Alright, boy, let us start!” He stepped around the circle, taking in the sight of Atsushi lying there, unable to move. After having walked around three times, he went back into the darkness, only to come out again a second later, holding a single black candle. He paced around Atsushi again while lighting the candle up before setting it down at the young man’s feet. He started chanting in a powerful voice:

“-I, Aleister Crowley, offer You, King Baal, this dark light shining upon the southern side of your kingdom. May this fire open the Gates and lead the infidels Your way.” As he finished his sentence, an intense pain took over Atsushi’s entire body. It felt as if a thousand knives were reaping his skin open. He let out an agonizing scream, his voice acute, distorted by his suffering.

His vision went white, he couldn’t hear a single thing, not even his own voice. The only thing he knew now was excruciating pain. After some time, its intensity decreased a little. Atsushi took a breath in; he was panting, his head spinning from the recent torture. Every single cell in his body felt like it had been lit on fire. He felt a few tears escaping his eyes.

“-Yes, cry for Him, boy, let Him know how you feel!” The crazed voice erupted again. Atsushi looked at the man standing at his feet. His face was twisted with a vicious smirk, eyes glinting with pleasure and madness. The poor tiger tried to reply but his erratic breathing would not let him do so. His eyes were shooting daggers at this Aleister. Please Dazai, hurry up!

The man moved around him again, three times. He reached for a second candle, placing it on Atsushi’s left. The weretiger tried to prepare himself for what he knew was coming as the man chanted again:

“-I, Aleister Crowley, offer You, King Baal, this dark light shining upon the eastern side of your kingdom. May this fire open the Gates and enlighten the infidels with Your wisdom.” Once again, Atsushi’s body was assaulted with pain.

His insides were on fire, lava was coursing through his veins. His brain was blank, unable to form a single thought as the awful feelings were tormenting him. More time seemed to have passed before the sensations calmed down again, leaving him panting even harder. His lungs were hurting, but he needed air, and he gulped down as much as he could. Rivers of tears were falling from his eyes, whimpers involuntarily escaping his mouth. The man standing above him seemed to relish in his weary moans. The crazy glow in his eyes had intensified. For the third time, he circled around Atsushi, and for the third time, he placed a candle on the floor.

“-I, Aleister Crowley, offer You, King Baal, this dark light shining upon the western side of your kingdom. May this fire open the Gates and…”

“-Let’s stop it all here!” Dazai’s voice boomed through the room. The vicious man turned his head towards the entrance, trying to see who had interrupted him. At the sound, Atsushi felt a wave of relief flow through his body. Dazai had come, he was safe now.

“-Hey, you stylish tormenter! The police have surrounded the area! Give yourself up now and we won’t have to be forceful!” Aleister let out a scoff.

“-Who dares interrupting my sacrifice? I shall inform you that there is no way in stopping this. Is this boy your little friend? He will die tonight, whether you fancy it or not. Now, where was I? Oh, yes… I, Aleister Crowley, offer You, King Baal…” The man suddenly went flying to the side.

Dazai was standing there, rubbing his fist. Atsushi could feel the hold of the circle casted around him loosen. Hard steps could be heard behind his mentor, and soon they were all surrounded by a dozen officers in tactical gear. Ango was trailing behind them.

“-Do not touch him! We don’t know how his ability works.” He turned his head to his old friend. “Dazai, could you…?

“-But of course, my dear Ango.” Dazai approached the man on the floor, but before he could touch him, the man yelled:

“-Goetia of Solomon the King.” As the words rose in the air, the circle under Atsushi started glowing, purple and red hues casting long shadows all around. Atsushi’s torments came back again, this time with even more intensity. He let out a long, terrified and pained scream. His face was distorted, his skin breaking, his organs imploding under the spell he was put under. His arms were stretched towards Dazai; the last thing he saw was the man’s horrified expression, his name leaving his lips in a panicked cry.

He blinked a few times, trying to get used to the bright light blinding him. The sheets covering him were soft against his skin, the mattress under him comfortable. Atsushi felt at peace. His body was sore, but he was no longer in pain. After getting accustomed to the brightness, he realized he was at the agency’s infirmary. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking around. Nobody in sight. He tried to call out for Yosano, but his voice wouldn’t rise higher than a whisper. He laid back down, waiting for someone to come to him. After about ten minutes, Yosano entered, followed by Dazai. Realizing the tiger had woken up, they rushed to his side. The young doctor started inspecting him.

“-Atsushi, you’ve disappointed me again! Your ability had already done a good enough job before you came to me, and Dazai forbade me to try anything to heal you myself!” She smiled warmly at him, relieved by the current state of her young friend. Atsushi smiled back at her, apologizing on behalf of the tiger. He then turned to Dazai.

“-How did I end up here? The last things I remember are the strange light and the pain…

-Apparently, there were a few different steps in Crowley’s ability. Luckily, he hadn’t completed the entire ritual before launching the final stage, otherwise…” His voice trailed, letting Atsushi imagine what could have happened to him. A shiver went down his spine. His mentor smiled at him softly and continued, “It seems like the man can summon different powerful entities through his ability. They could potentially destroy entire cities, but necessitate several sacrifices to work. We’ve barely avoided a catastrophe.

-Where is he now?

-The Special Ability Department is taking care of him. He should be locked up for some time.” Atsushi let out a relieved sigh at the news. The case was over now; there wouldn’t be any more victims.

Yosano, having just finished Atsushi’s checkup, walked out of the room, leaving the tiger and his mentor alone. As she did so, Dazai covered Atsushi’s hand on the bed with his. His head was down, hair falling over his eyes. His voice was a little chocked when he spoke up.

“-Atsushi… I’m so sorry, I wasn’t intending for things to go this far. The police took so long to dispatch… You shouldn’t have gone through all this pain… I’m sorry…” His voice broke.

Atsushi raised his other hand to Dazai’s head, ruffling his hair a little, smooth strands tangling around his fingers.

“-It’s okay, Dazai, things don’t always go as planned. I’m just glad I’m still alive.” His voice was just a whisper, but his tone was full of kindness. He kept patting the man’s head for a while. Dazai eventually looked up at him, gentle smile illuminating his face.

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