Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Day 1 

Pail watery light shone through large radial windows, catching the dust motes floating in the air and doing little to brighten up the dark gray stone of the walls. 

You glared at it, huffing and checking your pocket watch. A gift from one of the humans before you, and a warning. 

They said you couldn't trust that dim twilight glow, and it looked like they were right. It had been dawn in your small town when you were brought to the dark castle, the last dawn you would see for awhile. When you checked the watch it was nearly time for dinner and the light hadn't changed the entire time you wandered through the dim halls. 

Eternal twilight to keep you company as you got used to your new surroundings. Though that wouldn't be your only company. Sure footsteps echoed over the glossy black marble as the owner of the castle finally approached you.

“DO YOU INTEND ON EATING DINNER TONIGHT?” His voice boomed, deep and rich and full of authority. The voice of a god, almost too much for a human to bear.

You turned away from the window to glance at him. The ill omen himself, the Lord of gloom and despair.

NightTerror the god of negativity. 

He was tall and thin…really thin, a skeleton in fact. Like something right out of a nightmare with inky black bones. His eye sockets had mismatched lights floating in them. One a bright acid green that made some ancient primal instinct shoot a sick twist through your stomach when you looked at it too long, while the other was a deep burnt blood orange.  

The socket on the green side was cracked, splintering up the side of his skull. The cracks seemed to glow white in the dim light of the castle, like the gods divinity was trying to seep out through the damage in his physical form.

“Um…yes please. I haven't eaten since breakfast.” You replied, keeping a slight distance between yourself and him as he nodded for you to follow him back down the corridor, the long black coat over his sophisticated clothes billowing as he turned.  

His footsteps echoed through the halls and you hesitated to be the one to break the silence, you had heard…many things about him, some of them contradictory. 

That he has a violent temper, a cold and cruel indifference, a sadistic glee. Until you knew for sure what he was like you wanted to tread carefully. 

At least until you got to the dining room, where a brightly lit table was completely full of food that looked and smelled amazing.  You hoped your excitement wasn't too obvious as you sat down and took your first bite…of ash. 

Not to say that the food turned to ash, you were obviously chewing through meat, but it tasted like ash. 

“I'VE FOUND,” Terror started, cutting off his own section of steak. “THAT HUMANS ARE MORE LIKELY TO BE DISAPPOINTED WHEN THEY THINK THEY HAVE SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO.” 

“Oh…right…I guess that makes sense.” You agreed, taking another more hesitant bite of your dinner wondering if eating this was good for you or not. “Is it…still food?” 

“...IS IT STILL FOOD?” Terror repeated, hitting you with a flat look. “I ASSUME YOU'RE ASKING ABOUT THE NUTRITIONAL QUALITY, IN THAT CASE, YES. I NEED YOU HEALTHY IF YOU ARE GOING TO SERVE YOUR PURPOSE SO YOUR MEALS AND YOUR SLEEP WILL BE ON A SCHEDULE AND THEY WILL REMAIN UNALTERED.” 

Right…my purpose. You thought, worry settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Can…I ask you a few questions about that?” You hedged.

“YOU MAY ASK ONE.” He answered, turning up a wine glass to his fanged mouth.

Shoot…that was frustrating. You had…many questions obviously. The ‘spouses’ who had come before you didn't say much about specifics, nothing past the things that you already knew.

The god, terror, needed misery. He sustained himself on despair, fear, anguish…the works.  Like an old story book he was some kind of big deal centuries ago before Euphoria.

The god your small town worshiped. He had baited Terror into making a deal…a promise that stopped his from going out and terrorizing the entire world. Promises were sacred to gods. Unbreakable. 

When he realized he had been tricked he became enraged, attacking Euphoria, injuring him to the point that thousands of years later he still walked with a cane, but the promise was made. Terror could no longer spread his mystery to the world, but it was at a cost. One small town would hold a lottery every year and every year one person would be selected to go and sustain the god.

One sacrifice for one year then your name was removed from the lottery. 

You were the one this year. You had a few theories on how he could possibly keep you miserable for the year, you wanted clarification on all of them, but if you had to narrow it down to one…

“...are you going to hurt me?”

“PHYSICALLY?” He asked, his cold indifference unnerving you, but you still nodded. “NOT UNNECESSARILY. I HAVE DONE THIS LONG ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT THERE WILL NEED TO BE A GRADUAL ESCALATION TO CONTINUE PRODUCING THE DESIRED RESULTS AS IT IS NATURAL FOR YOU TO ACCLIMATE AS TIME GOES ON…HOWEVER IF I START OUT AS CRUEL AS I CAN BE THEN YOU WILL BREAK AND GO NUMB.

 IF YOU ARE A PERSON PRONE TO BEING NEGATIVE IT MIGHT NOT NEED TO ESCALATE TO THE POINT OF PHYSICALITY…IF YOU BEGIN ACCLIMATING TO THE CONDITIONS HOWEVER I WILL ESCALATE AS MUCH AS IS REQUIRED.” 

He explained it so clinically. Like he had the torture of his victims worked down to an exact science…hell he probably did. 

At least it answered your question. He wasn't above hurting you to produce whatever the “desired results” were. 

But…maybe you could trick your brain, if you were scared of him hurting you you probably wouldn't get too used to anything right? 

…That would work right? 

“...have any of your previous spouses made it through the year without-”

“MY WHAT!?” He gasped indignantly interrupting you. 

“...the town calls the people sent here spouses.” 

“THAT IS RIDICULOUS HUMAN NONSENSE.” He scolded before shaking his head, “AND YOU ALREADY ASKED YOUR ONE QUESTION.” 

“oh…that's right.” You agreed, looking down. “...though I guess that answers another one I didn't think to ask about marital duties.” You muttered half under your breath, glancing up in surprise when he sputtered.

“WE WILL HAVE SEPARATE ROOMS ON OPPOSITE SIDES OF THE CASTLE!” He said sounding firm, or at least sounding the way someone sounds when they're trying to be firm. “YOU WILL SLEEP ON THE BOTTOM FLOOR OF THE EAST WING AND I WILL SLEEP ON THE TOP FLOOR OF THE WEST WING.” 

He explained but…well you did look at the castle when you walked up to it, and there was an interesting feature to the Western side of the castle. 

“You sleep in a tower?” 

“STOP ASKING QUESTIONS!” He growled. 

“Sorry.” You squealed out but…well that seemed a little backwards to you. Shouldn't you have been the one kept up in the tower? 

Though in a way you could admit that it suited him; you supposed a man did just get the name “NightTerror, lord of the abyssal dark, opposition of the dawn, god of weeping fathers and childless mothers…ect.” without being just a little bit dramatic.

Chapter Text

Day 2

The next day, loud knocking on your bedroom room door woke you up. You reach for the pocket watch first. It was the only thing on your nightstand. The room was sparse. A twin bed, a nightstand, and a dresser, all in shades of white. At first you thought he was playing some kind of sensory based mind games, but the light colors were probably the best way to lighten the room with the eternal twilight outside and you even had a curtain you could close to make the room dark and a small lamp in case the room was too dark with the heavy curtain closed. So you decided the room was just bland and not any mind games.

When you picked up your watch to check it and it was 5 freaking am.

“YOU HAVE GOTTEN THE EXACT AMOUNT OF SLEEP YOU NEED, TIME TO START YOUR DAY HUMAN!” Terror barked from the other side of the door. 

You had a feeling that when he said the ‘exact amount’ he meant it down to the second. Like he probably had it all down to an exact science from gods only know how many years of doing this.

There was a small wave of trepidation as you reached for the door, you wondered exactly how much sanctuary your room granted you, he was knocking now but would he just come in if you didn’t answer the door fast enough?

“WE HAVEN’T EVEN STARTED YET!” He snapped from the other side of the door, “NOW MOVE BEFORE I DECIDE TO RESEND BREAKFAST!"

You jumped at that, putting your watch in your pocket and rushing to open the door. “Sorry, I’m just a little groggy when I first wake up.” You defended, looking up at him. He barely glanced at you before turning on his heels and walking back down the hall towards the dining room. 

He probably expected you to follow him…actually that was pretty obvious, but like…he couldn’t even acknowledge you before turning and walking away first?

You did eventually follow him because you wanted breakfast, but you were… oh 

You were in a bad mood, which was obviously the point. He had said he was going to start small and build up as he needed. 

You guessed that that made sense, because even though breakfast smelled and looked amazing you didn’t get your hopes up because of yesterday's trick with dinner, so you weren’t disappointed when you were right and the food was tasteless. There was just one tiny thing you might have hoped for. No matter how cruel or evil or whatever he was, you couldn’t believe that the steaming cup of coffee next to your plate was a trick. 

You reach for it hesitantly, wondering if it would be better to hold off on trying the coffee for another day or if you should rip off the band-aid. 

“...IF THE COFFEE IS TASTLESS ON THE FIRST DAY HUMANS TEND TO START BREAKING DOWN TO FAST…I HAVE NO IDEA WHY, BUT YOU WILL HAVE A RANDOM NUMBER OF DAYS TO ADJUST BEFORE I REMOVE THAT AS WELL.” Terror eventually explained, rolling his mismatched eye lights before sipping a cup of steaming golden orange tea. 

You…figured you could trust that. He seemed to keep a very rigid set of rules to get the results he wanted. (the results of course being to keep you as miserable as possible for as long as possible without breaking you.) So you turned up the cup. Warm bitter morning coffee washed down the tasteless food and if you closed your eyes you could almost forget for just one tiny second what you were in for the rest of the day. 

Though…how many times did he get it wrong before he realized that just giving his humans coffee would keep them useful longer? Did he have it worked out so that you would definitely make it through the whole year and be okay at the end or was he still experimenting? 

“IF WE’RE GETTING STARTED EARLY WE MIGHT AS WELL GO TO THE STUDY.” Terror said, setting his cup down gingerly and standing up. 

“What?” You asked curiously, glancing up at him.

“YOU’RE SCARED. WE MIGHT AS WELL TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THAT TO GET WHAT I NEED FOR THE DAY. THE SOONER WE GET STARTED THE SOONER IT CAN BE OVER WITH.” He replied coldly. 

“Oh…I guess that that makes sense.” You agreed, standing up to follow him again, you would probably eventually learn the layout of the castel, but just two days in the twisting passages were disorienting. You couldn’t tell how far from your room or the kitchen you were when he opened the door to the study. 

Which was absolutely gorgeous on the surface, but also deeply disturbing. Large ornate book shelves, a glowing fireplace, large windows, a desk, a tall grandfather clock, a tall lamp off to one side, and a single red leather chair in front of the fireplace. Beautiful, but only one set of each piece of furniture. Then there were the books that were on the shelves. 

There were authors like Nietzsche, Machiavelli, and Marquis de Sade.

And Titles ranging from, ‘Secrets of CIA interrogation’ to ‘Confessions of a cannibal cult leader.’ 

Was…was this research? 

“I SEE YOU’ER LITTERATE, THAT'S GOOD.” Terror mused, picking up a book and sitting down in the red chair in front of the fireplace. 

So…wait was this real or was it just mind games? You wondered, glancing between him and ‘The Crimes of the Angel of Death.’ sitting on the shelf. 

“NOW IF YOU ARE READY PLEASE KNEEL NEXT TO THE CHAIR.” He prompted, not looking up from his book. 

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t want to find out if they were mind games or not. 

He sighed, his mismatched eyes glaring over the top of his book. “YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO MAKE THIS DIFFICULT AREN'T YOU?” He growled, making you flinch back.

“What-” You gasped, you had done exactly what he said exactly when he said it you didn’t see how that was being difficult.

“HAVE YOU NO SHAME! YOU’RE KNEELING ON THE FLOOR LIKE AN ANIMAL, YOU JUST DID IT WITHOUT ANY OBJECTION WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU THAT YOU DON’T FEEL ANYTHING?” He demanded and the shame he had obviously hoped for lit to life burning from your gut up to your face. 

“I just…wasn’t thinking of it like that.” You defended. 

“I SEE THAT, DO YOU THINK THAT BY JUST NOT THINKING ABOUT IT, THAT WILL MAKE THINGS EASIER FOR YOU?” He asked, turning back to his book. “I HAVE SOME HORRIBLE NEWS FOR YOU THEN, THE POINT IS YOUR FEELINGS. IF YOU DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THE SITUATION YOUR IN THEN WE WILL SIMPLY ESCALATE UNTIL YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO DWELL ON YOUR POSITION.”  

“I- I’m not trying to be difficult, I just-” You started to explain, you just did what you were told. It wasn’t like you were explicitly trying not to think about it so you wouldn’t be ashamed, there was just a lot going on and it was only your second day, you didn’t know what to expect. 

“YOU’RE JUST NATURALLY A DIFFICULT PERSON?” He accused.

“No!” You shot back. 

“IT’S A SHAME THAT THE DEAL I HAVE WITH THE TOWN DOESN'T GRANT ME THE ABILITY TO TRADE YOU OUT.” He huffed, “THIS YEAR IS GOING TO BE VERY DIFFICULT FOR YOU, AND BY EXTENSION ME.” 

I didn’t even want to be here. You thought, but the comment still stung. Every adult in town was part of the lottery, it had been going on for hundreds of years…did the other humans usually fight him on the kneeling thing or was he just trying to shame you for the sake of shaming you to make you feel negative?

That was what you were there for, it would make sense.

“CLAMMING UP WILL ONLY MAKE IT HARDER TO.” He suddenly warned.

“I-I wasn't, I was just thinking…why does weather I talk or not matter?” You asked, glancing back up at him nervously. 

“ARGUING AND FAILING HAS PROVEN TO INHANCE FRUSTRATION AND HOPELESSNESS, IF YOU WON’T ARGUE WITH ME THEN I WILL SIMPLY FIND OTHER WAYS TO MAKE YOU FEEL THOSE THINGS.” Terror warned, before turning to you thoughtfully. “THOUGH I HAVE FOUND THAT MAKING HUMANS SO UPSET THAT YOU CRY MAKES YOU LAST LONGER…ISN’T THAT STRANGE? EUPHORIA WON’T LET ME HAVE MEDICAL OR STRAIGHT UP PSYCHOLOGY BOOKS I HAVE TO TRICK HIM BY ASKING FOR HISTORY OR PHILOSOPHY BOOKS, SO I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHY.” 

You blinked up at him, your mouth hanging open. He had some of the darkest books ever written, but Euphoria drew the line at actual medical information…but also…Euphoria gave him books? 

“CONFUSION REALLY? WOULD YOU RATHER MEDICAL TORTURE BECAUSE FROM WHAT I’VE READ I HAVE HEARD THATS RATHER PERMINANT.” Terror mused curiously. 

“Thats not what I was confused about.” You rushed shaking your, “just a couple things…” You trailed off nervously. 

“THOSE WOULD BE.” He prompted, glaring down at you with his green eye light flaring slightly like a warning. 

“Just…you have this whole thing down to a science but you don't know that crying helps regulate stress hormones and shit and…well, why does Euphoria bring you books?” 

“I HAVE TO HAVE SOME ENTERTAINMENT HERE TO PASS THE TIME AND BECAUSE OF THE LITTLE ARRANGEMENT EUPHORIA AND I HAVE I CANNOT LEAVE TO DO MY OWN SHOPPING AND I SUPPOSE HE THINKS ITS TO CRUEL TO LEAVE ME HERE WITH NOTHING?” He explained nonchalantly going back to his book.

“That sounds like him…I guess he couldn't even leave someone like you with nothing.” You mused quietly, before one of his long legs shot out, not exactly kicking you, but firmly pushing you to the ground from where you were kneeling. 

“I’M SURE IF YOU PRAISE HIS GRACES HARD ENOUGH HE WILL COME TO SAVE YOU…OH NO WAIT, HE’S THE REASON YOU’RE HERE.” Terror sneered, sounding irritated, green light flickering through the cracks in his skull. 

“He never would have had to make that deal if it wasn’t for you terro-”

“I AM NOT HAVING THIS CONVERSATION WITH ANOTHER ONE OF YOU! ITS ALWAYS THE SAME MINDLESS DRIVEL OVER AND OVER, EVERY SINGLE TIME! I WON’T HEAR IT AGAIN.” He snapped, standing abruptly and tossing his book down with a bang that made your heart jump into your throat as fear gripped you.

“I…” You started, when the clock chimed making you jump.

“AH, WE’RE GOING TO A SHORT BREAK FOR YOUR LUNCH.” He said casually, closing his eye sockets and taking a deep breath. 

“...what?” You asked, glancing between the grandfather clock and then reaching into your pocket for your watch. The clock was accurate.

“LUNCH, YOU NEED TO STAY WELL FED…ALSO HUMAN…FOR YOUR SAFETY, I WOULD NOT MENTION EUPHORIA TO MUCH. I THINK IT WOULD BE SUCH A TRAGEDY IF YOU WERE IN A CAST FOR THE MAJORITY OF THE YEAR.” He warned before turning on his heels and leaving you alone…for about three seconds before you realized that you had no idea how to get back to the dining room from the study, so you bolted up running after him.

You wouldn’t be able to navigate the castle without following him…for now. You knew that if you wanted to make it through the year with your sanity intact you would have to limit how dependent on him you were, especially if he was going to be that unpredictable.