Endless Night by Lyse [Heartless City Fanfic]
And we’re back with another guest post by Lyse as she continues on her quest to write the fan-fic sequel for Heartless City. She’s provided the prologue and synopsis below, so check it out and I promise-if you loved Heartless City as we did, you’ll love Endless Night-your curiosity will be piqued and you will definitely be back for more! 😉
Endless Night || Heartless City Sequel
”Every morn and every night
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.”
–William Blake, Songs of Experience
It’s been four years since the tragic final act that ended in blood, betrayal, and death. A new drug is filtering through the city’s underbelly and leaving a trail of death in its wake. From abroad, the man known as Doctor’s Son is facing the threat of usurpation from within the walls of the empire he has built, as the organization he’s vowed to destroy turns his own weapons against him. To come out the victor, Jung Shi-Hyun will have no choice but to request the help of those from his past, in particular a young woman who is haunted by nightmares and walks her own deadly path.
It is a race against time as love lines are reformed, alliances made, betrayals discovered, and the dead are avenged.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with Heartless City, JTBC. Original characters are mine however.
Music pulses through the club like the pounding of blood in one’s ears. Amidst the heavy throng of giddy club-goers, there is a boy who is listening to a song only he can hear. It rings through his ears and snakes down through his fingertips, curling into the sharp nails that bite into his palms.
Beyond the club’s dim haze and the dazzling flecks of lights flickering off metallic dresses, a private movie plays on behind his eyes. He’s staring out at the smooth, shiny floor, but he cannot see the waving hands and worried faces directly in front of him.
He is standing in a small and dusty room with floorboards weighed down by years of turmoil. The air smells of blood, fear, and his own cowardice. His nose is pressed against the floor and he can’t move or breathe; he can only wait for the next lash of the belt to bite down his back, for the flames to lick a trail of fire across his skin.
Tears mixed with sweat and grime run down his face. His teeth clench tightly against the effort to not make a sound; to not breathe, to not move, to not let out the strangled cry fighting to escape from his throat. His fingers splay futilely against the boards and press down so deeply…
In the club, the boy’s fingers curl around the bottle in his hand and he’s no longer that little child who waits to be thrown against the wall or down on the floor. His body jerks and he whirls around to face his oppressor, his own flesh and blood, and he smashes the bottle into the leering face. The bottle shatters and the its jagged edges cut his hands, but the boy doesn’t feel the pain.
He’s no longer the powerless, innocent victim that he was all those years ago. He clenches his weapon in his hand; lifts it up, and brings it down over and over again. The song reaches its roaring climax and unrestrained laughter bursts from his throat.
The song dies down and its final notes seem to choke him as the images continue to play on relentlessly before him. The face of his aggressor grows larger and fuzzier with each note, until his entire vision is filled with noise.
The boy drops down to the floor, smiling victoriously, oblivious to the growing chorus of horrified screams around him. His hand comes to a rest next to the unseeing eyes of the girl on the floor. His red-coated fingers entwine her blood-soaked tresses.
Author’s Note: And so it begins. Special thanks to lilahozi and aziraphale. This story wouldn’t have been told without you two!
Keep posted for more, folks! ^Akiko