-Sanity- AloisXReader

I beg you with all my heart to read the description after reading this!

This iniquity castle was indeed like the depths of Hell itself. With atrocious monstrosities stalking in every dim lit corner, waiting for the precise time to strike the insane.

To your very surprise, the dull echo of footsteps sounded eerily just outside the room from where you were hidden in a lone closet (Considering you were just attacked by a Grunt.) Hands trembling with utter fret, you strived to withdraw a Sanity Potion from your torn left pocket.

Of course, like said, the pocket was enormously torn. Although you had such small, panicked thoughts as of the moment, you came to the horrid conclusion that the petite bottle slipped from your left pocket’s hole.

‘Damn’, was all you uttered to think. Soon enough, you began to choke on the bitter taste of your own hopeless tears.

Footsteps approaching closer and closer by the millisecond, you made a small prayer to yourself, begging the lord it not be Alexander[1].

Within an instant, old, musky, wooden doors (to the closet you were in) were forced open by a blonde figure before you. Due to lack of Sanity Potion and Laudanum, you then toppled over onto this unfamiliar person.

A grunt of disgust tore from their throat just as they shoved you away, causing you to timber backwards and clash the rear of your head incredibly hard on the interior of the closet.

As you now slumped to the bottom of the closet, you glanced up dazedly. Finding the strength to attempt it, you smiled with such happiness you could never word. This person could possibly help you! (*Laughs*)

“S-so… ver…very sorry f-for… troubling you, m-miss…”

“Miss?!” The slightly tall blonde figure sputtered with frustration. “I’ll have you know, wench, that I, Alois Trancy, am no ‘miss’!”

Your crimson-stained hands grieved to wipe your [e/c] eyes to gain better eye sight. It must’ve obviously been a bit rude to call this young man a miss. But who were you to blame?!

He did sound sort of like a girl...

“S-sorry. My sight is—”

“Just who are you?”

“__-_______...” You responded back with the little breath you had left within you.

“Well then, _______, you seem to have a “little” ugly smudge on your face…” He commented with a smug grin, indicating the splatters of blood plastered to your face.

Ignoring his smartass comment, you gazed up at him with a pleading smile. “Pl-please… Do you have any… Lauda-… num?”

Childish yet disturbing cackles escaped from in-between his pale lips before his facial expression immediately changed. There he stood, looking as if you just called him a ‘miss’ once again.

Eyebrows furrowed together with arrogance, “Please! Like I would ever give such necessities to someone who’s on the verge of dying such as you! You simply can’t be helped!” With that, his facial expression quickly changed once more[2] to a seductive smirk.

Cupping his hands delicately around your cheeks, without giving a care of staining his clean fingers with your blood, he giggled like a demented child. “But you’ve got a beautiful bruised and bloody face, so I don’t see any harm in putting up with you.”