"The two shades of green."

Chapter 20

"He hurt so often it stopped being painful"

Pain.

It was everywhere, took over everything.

Cursing in his veins, completely replacing his blood...

Ringing in his head, overshadowing every other thought, every other concern...

Making its way down his spine with thousands of pointy needles, as he tried to focus on breathing.

Hot, intense… Pain.

The constant burning, burning, burning.

It was all he could think of, over and over again.

It was unbearable.

It was intense.

It was… exhilarating.

He heard a noise echoing from somewhere far, and hoped it was not him that screamed.

This was... confusing to him, this whole revelation.

The pain was bad, it wasn't supposed to be something he liked but...

It also felt familiar, like a treasured toy he long since forgot or a room he hasn't visited in years...

It felt like… like… home.

He hissed and groaned under the assaults, his heart beating so frantically it basically trashed around in his ribcage.

He doesn't understand.

Why was he enjoying the torture? Why isn't he begging for mercy? Why any of this?

He asks these questions but, deep down, he knew the truth.

Because it was something about him that that didn't feel like it was implemented by Nastasia. Something that was real.

Something that he can confirm, he experienced for himself.

His first memories were comprised of him being badly beaten by Mario and his gang.

His last memories were of him getting merged with Dimentio, and dying a horrific death by the hands of the esteemed red hero.

It's something he came to familiarize with life.

But it was never just about that, not really.

His head is not of a single mind, being a shared space between different parts of his personality that took control interchangeably while he was away, and he's been lost for so very long...

He thought back to his plumage into his subconscious and the discovery of the many masks that it housed.

He thought about the one labeled "Luigi" and how it seemed to be used most prominently, despite the constant hate it received from the outside world.

...

Perhaps Luigi is the reason he reacts this way.

His body seemed to have adapted to his desire to hurt, having long since learned to welcome rather than fear it.

'Because I deserve nothing less for...'

He can't finish that thought, his mind suddenly foggy and uncooperative.

The reason for his deep self-loathing sealed away from his prying eyes, hidden in a section of his brain that is not for him to use and discover.

It seems like… like he enjoys being punished, being hurt.

Be it physical or mental, he will welcome the abuse.

The pain hits again, throwing his mind into an jumble so incoherent that he doesn't remember where "up" is anymore.

Will it ever stop?

Does he want it to?

Somewhere, from beyond the thick fog of pain, he thinks he hears a scream. Before he can decide whenever or not it was real, a boot covered in hard leather connects with his ribcage, making the air echo with the sound of cracking bones and angry hisses.

For a fleeting moment… he forgets how to breathe, the pain clouding his mind to a point where the simplest actions seem impossible.

He's suddenly pulled up by his collar, the magic that covered him protectively not five seconds ago vanishing back into his chest like a bunch of frightened spiders.

"Why aren't you screaming?!" Someone's yelling at him, he can feel their breath on his face. "Why aren't you crying for me to stop?!" Male. The person screaming is male. He… knows that voice. He heard it somewhere before. 'What was the guy's nam-' The unexpected punch to the face catches him off guard, and makes his ears ring. "Answer me!"

He wants to answer, but his tongue feels like lead in his mouth.

He wants to punch the man, to retaliate in some sort of way, to make him let go… but his body refuses to listen to him.

He tries to open his eyes, to at least see his abuser… but his eyelids are glued together and refuse to budge.

A punch to the guts makes him lose what little air he had managed to regain.

"Stop pretending you can't hear me!" A man's voice thunders. "I know you're listening! I know you're capable of responding! So." His nose gets smashed against his face. Blood flows out like water from a waterfall. "Start" He's coughing and his lungs threaten to drown in the red liquid. "Screaming!"

But he doesn't.

Instead his lips finally part and start to lick off some of the warm blood that still flows freely from his injured nose.

It tasted… like iron and salt.

He wonders why it's still broken, why his healing powers that have patched him up from wounds that were much more serious than this, suddenly stopped working.

A gray heart that looked like it was made of stone, with a large crack going down the middle, flashed before his eyes.

And then he remembers.

He remembers the feeling of chains around his wrists and ankles.

He remembers talking to a small man in a white lab coat and swirly glasses.

He remembers waking up to the sound of a door opening.

He remembers Mario entering the dark and empty room.

He remembers the feelings of fear and sheer panic when he breathes down his neck.

Oh...

OH.

Now he understands.

"Don't you have... Something better to do?" His voice finally returns to the realm of functioning, sounding raspy and sick with the ever-present rattle of his broken ribs. "Like… defending Peach… from Bowser… or something?"

"That's not my job anymore."

A hand let's go of his collar and swiftly makes its way to his unprotected neck, slender fingers curl around his flesh positioning the gloved palm directly over his air pipe.

One little twitch of his ankle, and L would be left drowning in his own blood.

If he lifts his hand a little higher, places a strong grip on his chin and then twists...

Mario can break his neck at any moment...

The thought excites him more than it probably should.

He remembers hearing about the sensations of having your neck twist in an unnatural angle from Mimi. How the first thing you hear is the sickening 'crack' of your bones getting brutally broken, before everything gets overshadowed by intense, white-hot pain.

It only lasts a split second, naturally since the move is lethal, but Mimi was very insistent that is the most painful experience one could imagine.

It was then that he forces his eyes to open. His vision blurry and obscured by a thick fog, but it didn't matter. All that mattered, was that he could see Mario's face again.

"Go on." He gurgled out, giving the ex-hero a bloody smile. "You know you want to."

He then leans into the touch, the feeling of having his Adam's apple pushed back making him want to choke but he presses on.

"Make me scream, hero."