#v; run away with me to hell [harley quinn & logan]

[ssolessurvivor]

plotted thing for @inabcck

He's slipping on his grasp of reality he was so desperately clinging to. This gift Harley presented him with, the man who was responsible for sending his team to Mimas...Logan had been playing with him for a good hour now, pacing and hearing the whispers of the dead inside his head, ricocheting like stray bullets. He's like an animal, taunting its prey in this confined room dark and stinking of blood and chemicals.

He can smell this man's fear...it's exhilarating.

"What do you want?" The voice is weak escaping the lips of that pig who had nothing better to do than collect souls and invoke trauma. Logan doesn't answer him right away, allows his eyes to roam the corners of this room. A few empty beer bottles here or there, and he can feel his dear Harley's eyes on his back. The holster on his thigh carries the weight of his gun which he hasn't even gone for, not in something as ugly and intimate as this with the blood sprinkled under his nails. Logan takes a glance, relishes in the way the man flinches back into his restraints, and smirks as he wanders over and picks up one of the dirty empty bottles.

One glance back at Harley, appraising her for just a moment before Logan wanders back over to the chair, moving closer with each slow step, holding that amber bottle by his thigh, throat end down. The man shivers in his chair, the leather restraints holding securely as that question again slips out on a sob ripping from his throat. Logan goes completely still for a split second before he's going feral.

"YOU." His voice is low and loud, something coming from a demon inhabiting his subconscious. A flick of his hand and the bottle's throat is smashed, jagged and sharp against the sterile white light covering this man as if he's ascending to heaven and not the bowels of hell. One swift motion, Logan's hand grasps the mans hair and pulls back, exposing his neck and slicing that jagged glass straight across his throat. There's no mercy to be clean and precise: he's rough and ugly, the hatred he has for this man seeping into this final act of torture.

A lot of it doesn't register, he's so far consumed in his own darkness, his demons crawling up his throat for their sweet corruption. The man's dying screams and gasps falling away as the blood spills on the floor, dripping now once the few specks had painted the skin on Logan's face in his moment of revenge. Logan holds eye contact with the dying man once the bottle stills, and when the light leaves his eyes, Logan exhales and moves back, the bottle then tossed across the room, shattering and bringing in the quiet. His heart beating, his breathing ragged, his body hot with adrenaline.

With a deep breath, Logan turns sidelong to the man, half cloaked in that white light himself and the other half in shadow as he peeks over at Harley, the eye beneath the light shadowed as if it were an empty socket of a skull.

#inabcck #ie logan's descent into darkness #tw; torture #tw; death #tw; blood #tw; trauma #v; run away with me to hell [harley quinn & logan]