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darklydeliciousdesires · 6 days ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Twelve.

The final chapter is here. Thanks to those who offered support and feedback, I appreciate it.

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

Tag list - In the comments. DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,373

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI! Also, while I have tried to remain as true to how Niklas is in reality as I can, I have to have a little creative freedom of my own with him in this. If you don’t like it, simply scroll on by. Bitching isn’t tolerated here. At all. Remember, it’s fiction, not a documentary ;) It’s also worth mentioning that while Taissa has qualities of being quite charming at times, she is not, by any means, a good person.

Irritation gnawed at the very fibres of him, Niklas feeling it tearing, sharp and raw, a pain he so often sought to seek in order to create rising within him. Here it was, what he needed, the wilful destruction of his own happiness once again coming back to take hold.

He had met her while trying to negotiate his way to being a better person, a healthier one, but like so many times in the past, his old self reared its ugly head once more and demanded the contrary from him. He could be happy – or at least his own version of that – with Taissa, and he knew he could. She was, at her core, perfect for him.

Letting her be just that was a different matter entirely, though.

He had nine hours until she would return to him, and it made him feel as if his bones were attempting to flee his skin. He’d told her he loved her, and it was true. He wanted it to be just as much as he didn’t, flexing his fist within the grip of his other hand, his knuckles bouncing against his fingers as he growled with annoyance.

Who even was he anymore?

He’d begun this with the opposite intent to what he’d now arrived at, blown off course entirely, adrift from himself, powerless. Reclaiming control of the situation, he realised, would satiate the feeling of irritability, but at a price.

The price was his peace. The price was how he’d felt that afternoon, buried inside her, loving her, stroking her, never wanting to part from that feeling.

The price was Taissa herself.

“Just fucking grow up and don’t fuck it all up again.”

“Nah, fuck that. Don’t be weak. See it through.”

“But you love her, and she loves you. Even the darkness. She loves it all.”

“You aren’t built for it. It’s too normal for you. This was never who you were.”

It always happened, when too much positivity came his way. He didn’t know how to handle it, so thus succumbed to the compulsion to fuck it all up. It was always the same with him. He had just under nine hours until she’d return to him, Niklas deciding to call upon a few friends he hadn’t seen in a while. It all began there.

Meeting his friends at a bar led to another, somewhat of a crawl between establishments, ending up at the Roadhouse just before midnight. He was definitely worse for wear, high as a kite on coke and just drunk enough to know that sexually, he could go all night, should he choose to. Seeing a pretty girl with long curls and great tits checking him out, it was in that moment he chose to.

Leaving with her at 1am, they were in his apartment just over a half hour later, Niklas carrying her to the bedroom while spanking her ass with every step he took. Twenty-five minutes and Taissa would be there, letting herself in as always. When he expected her, he never locked the door.

He felt so much conflicting within him as he lay back and enjoyed having his cock sucked, though, the thrill of being caught and restoring the dark conflict he craved crashing hard like a tsunami against the shore of his genuine happiness with Taissa. Closing his eyes, all he could see there in his mind was her smiling at him, lying against his chest, lavishing affection upon him.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you, too.”

Yet a blind man could have seen how much the pair were honestly besotted with one another, and here he was, welcoming the dark clouds, engineering it so that the sunshine within his heart became shaded once more. 2am rolled around, saw him with his face buried between the girl’s legs. 2:15am and he was fucking her assiduously from behind. 2:30am and she was riding him into the bed. 2:39am and he was blowing his load all over her face, and Taissa was nowhere to be seen.

By 3:30am, he knew it was a wasted opportunity, reasoning she might have had a busy night and decided to go straight home after all. She’d done it in the past. After kicking the girl out at 11am the following morning, he attempted to call her, her phone simply ringing out. She’d get back to him, though. She always did.

Twenty-nine hours passed without a peep from her, though, Niklas calling her again, sending a message, too. Nothing. When he called on her third day of being MIA, he received the recorded message that the number he was dialling was no longer in service, experiencing a chilling freeze prickle through his chest.

All of his thoughts began to swirl, his focus on pulling her back to him polarised, taking over completely. Medication schedules fell by the wayside as he drank too much, decimated his supply of coke, and paced his apartment. Why was she doing this? Where the fuck was she?

Day four arrived, Niklas opening his eyes to see the two shadows who haunted his unmedicated brain lingering at the foot of his bed, cackling laughter filling his ears as he flung himself from beneath the covers, dressing speedily. She’d be home, it was only 10am. Working nights meant that she didn’t tend to go anywhere until the early afternoon, so he’d catch her there and could demand why he was receiving the silent treatment.

Truly, how dare she treat him like this?

He felt disjointed and rattled in the back of the Uber that took him to her apartment, the shadows right there with him, taunting him with their presence.

After exiting the car, he ran for the main door to the apartment block as someone exited, catching it before it closed. All the way up in the elevator, his vision blurred, voices chattering within his head, Niklas looking to the mirrored back wall at the haunted desperation of his own reflection, his fist meeting his own visage and cracking the glass. Little spots of blood dripped onto the floor, marking the hallway as he strode to her apartment.

His knuckles smeared crimson across her front door as he hammered upon it with his fist, his chest heaving as he ground his teeth, mouth tightening.

“Hello, can I help?”

He didn’t have a clue who the woman answering on the other side was at all. “Where is she?”

She was perplexed, seeing a wild-eyed man with a bloodied hand, her heart beginning to pound with nerves. “Who is she, I don’t...hey, wait! You can’t just barge in here!”

He’d shoved his way past her before she could say anything else, though, feeling scared, glad she wasn’t alone. Her girlfriend gasped in surprise to see him appear, his hand dripping onto the carpet as he stared at her chillingly.

“Where is she?”

She shook her head, backing away from him. “I-I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she began, seeing her girlfriend appear behind him. “We, we rented this place on Airbnb.”

His eyes swivelled left to right, looking for any trace of Taissa. It almost looked like a different apartment, none of her belongings, the walls bare, the bed... the bed where he’d fucked her so many times, held her, slept curled around her...

Loved her...

Not even that looked the same as when he’d last been within it. With her.

“You have to leave, or I’m calling the police.”

The way he stared at her chilled her blood to freeze, Niklas feeling his heart hammering so violently that extreme nausea began to pulse. He at least made it out of the apartment before throwing up in the hallway, following his own dripped blood path back to the elevator.

She couldn’t do this to him.

It took him two hours of aimlessly wandering the streets in a daze before he arrived back home. Once there, he fed Katze, scratching her head, washing blood from his hand before bandaging it. It had been a while since he’d had to do such, look after self-inflicted wounds, noting that the skin over his knuckle should probably be stitched, but having little to no desire to help himself further than binding the gashes.

Picking up a bottle of bourbon, he staggered to his bed, shedding his clothes and lying naked upon the covers. Turning his head, he could still smell her perfume on the pillow, his heart ripping itself open. She was gone. His own game had been played back at him, and as that realisation began to settle, it felt as if he’d swallowed a jagged cog, one which carved his insides to shreds as it gored at where he’d become soft.

Soft for her. And it sickened him.

Time lost itself to the torrent of emotions swirling around his mind, his psychosis now returned full-blown. He only moved to feed Katze and sort her litter tray, picking up a fresh bottle of alcohol and returning to his pit of anguish. Unmade, messy sheets still bore her scent, Niklas burying his face in them, his hand moving to his cock as he stroked himself hard, eyes swimming in tears.

He did that until he physically couldn’t, until he was sore, cum sodden and lonely, crying into the pillows that barely bore her scent any longer. How long had he been there for, sleepless, the two black shadows his only constant, whispered voices playing like a haunted theme of darkness through the tattered echoes of his mind.

And he’d bought it all on himself.

This was what he’d asked for.

He hadn’t, however, asked to be abandoned.

If his mental condition was a stormy sea, then Taissa was the leviathan in the centre of it, grasping him by the heart and dragging him under her surging waves, drowning him in his own misery. He had no true concept of time, whether it was night or day as he lay in his darkened bedroom, eventually drifting into fitful slumber. His dreams couldn’t even give him the peace of complete nothingness that he craved.

He found himself wandering a long path, eyes picking out a line of small houses at the end, a feeling of warmth flooding him as his eyes centred in on the one at the far left.

It felt like home, although he had never seen it before in his entire life.

Opening the door, he was greeted by the overwhelming scent of her, of candles and spices, home cooked food and the crackling warmth of a fire. It was cozy and beautiful, slipping his coat off and removing his shoes as he looked down the hall, watching as she came to greet him. She wasn’t alone.

“Look, come on. Here’s here now, you have to show him!” she spoke with enthusiastic warmth, holding onto the hands of a small child, a cherubic looking little boy who took big, uncertain steps. His eyes found Niklas, eyes that matched his, the baby beaming as he released the grip on his mother’s hands and walked on unsteady feet towards him.

Niklas crouched, catching the child when he staggered on little legs, his heart bursting with pride. “My boy walks now!” he spoke, kissing his blonde curls. “We are all in trouble now you are mobile, my son.” Lifting him into his arms, he stood, welcoming Taissa into his embrace with a kiss. “When?”

“Earlier this morning, he pulled up on the sofa as usual and then suddenly, he was off! He almost landed on Katze, she was far from impressed,” she revealed, her face so warm and alight as she stroked their baby on his chubby cheek with her fingertips. Had she always been so serenely beautiful? She looked angelic to him. “Here, give him to me. I have just run a bath for him in the sink.”

Niklas chuckled, kissing the baby and handing him to his mother. “More Leevi Aho parenting implemented, my darling.”

“He always said baby baths were bullshit when we had a perfectly good sink. He was right,” she spoke, walking down the hallway, Niklas following her to a large, beautiful kitchen. Katze sat in front of the glowing hearth, the air laden with homely scents, feeling something settle within him that he hadn’t known was broken. It was like a yearning he never knew he wished to be fulfilled. “So, you had the interview this morning, how did it go?”

He was just about to reply, watching the way she so adoringly carried their child in her arms, a wedding band and engagement ring sparkling upon her dainty finger when he found his path into the kitchen blocked. There they appeared, the two shadows, one shaking its head as it began to cackle.

“This is not for you. This was never for you.”

Of course, it wasn’t. He knew that instinctually, but the reality of it. Oh, the sweet, torturous reality of his little-known heart’s desire.

“It isn’t real. They’re just shadows, they aren’t here.”

“What are shadows, my love?” She turned, pausing with their son’s tiny sweater in her hand. “Niklas, what is wrong?”

Maybe if he could fight past the shadows, he could stay there with her, remain in this beautiful dream, safe and warm. “Niklas?”

“It isn’t real,” he spoke, shaking his head rapidly, attempting to wake himself. “This isn’t real.”

Taissa acted quickly, placing the baby in his high chair and clipping him in, moving speedily across the kitchen. As soon as she reached him, the shadows dissipated into black smoke, fluttering away to nothing, her hands smoothing his cheeks.

“Niklas, you’re having an episode,” she spoke gently, making him look at her. “Look at me, deep breaths. Those motherfucking meds. We need to get you back to a doctor again.”

His entire chest felt like it was caving in on him, his breathing panicked, everything around him so real, so palpable. “It isn’t real! I am not here, and neither are you! You abandoned me, you left me behind, Tai.”

“Shhh, love,” she soothed, stroking him, centring him again. “This is how it goes, remember? Remember when you had your breakdown two years ago? You thought I had gone, but I was there with you the whole time. Well, between throwing up with morning sickness. Remember? You went back to the hospital, and you came out just before Rasmus was born. Remember?”

He didn’t, but was it real? Had his mind been playing tricks on him so severely that he’d hallucinated her leaving, and in the process, lost two years?

Was this truly his life?

“You should remember,” she continued, wrapping her arms around him. “I called you every type of bastard under the sun while I gave birth. Swore I’d never let you between my legs again, even though that was a lie.” Winking she stroked his chest. “Last night very much speaks of the lie. I’m still sore!”

Wincing, he couldn’t take it in. “What year is it?”

“Twenty-twenty six,” she confirmed. “You are forty-two, I am thirty, god fucking forbid, and Rasmus is thirteen months.”

“And we are married?”

She kissed his chest. Nodding. “Yes. We married five months ago. I wore black to mourn the old Taissa Aho being no more. You laughed yourself stupid when I told you I would do that. Remember? You told me even though I would be Taissa Kvarforth going forward, there was no way in hell your little beast wouldn’t be exactly that any longer.”

Shaking his head, he scrunched his eyes shut tightly, slapping his face. She was still there when he opened them again. “And I proposed to you?”

Humming a laugh, she looked out from under her lashes at him. “No, I asked you. Remember? We always go through this when you forget, love. I asked you, but you said you were going to buy me an engagement ring all the same. One that befitted my cock sucking skills.” Holding her hand up, a very decently sized diamond sparkled upon her finger. “You almost sent yourself broke, buying me this.”

“I can’t...” He shook his head, grasping her face in his hands, kissing her. “You were gone, my darling. I was alone.”

“I know. It always goes like that when you forget to take your medication, but you have been on top of it, so I think you need to see your doctor again.” Her face was warm and loving as she smiled up at him, her thumb skimming her cheek. “Come and sit down, it’s all okay.”

But it wasn’t. That first step he took into the kitchen woke him, finding himself in the darkened bedroom of his apartment, his mouth furry, his head pounding.

Reaching for his phone, he located the number he needed, the call answered quickly.

“The usual?” Miika spoke.

“Yeah,” he replied, swallowing hard. “Where is your sister, Miika?”

He knew Niklas would probably reach out to him at some point, knowing his sister of old. Of course she would have left him broken. It was her style, and it always would be, too. “She went back to Helsinki two weeks ago.”

Two weeks had passed?

“Oh.”

Miika sighed uncomfortably. “I’ll be round within the hour.”

While Niklas lay there waiting for a delivery of something he hoped might make him feel more human, Taissa lay in an equally empty bed over two hours away, in the same sheets she had taken with her from Tampere.

She could just about smell him on them, still. Her hand smoothed the vast space, sighing. He wasn’t there.

He never would be again. She had seen to that.

“It was just a game,” she told herself, closing her glassy eyes to the morning light, seeing him there in her mind. “One you won.”

Every breath burned as she curled into herself, retreating beneath the covers, imagining him there with her, inside her, hands gripping her, mouth scattering kisses. The blue of his eyes had been the most perfect hue, sharp and cold, but when they’d gentled towards her, it was like looking into a cloudless sky.

It all could have been cloudless, if she’d let it.

“You won.”

It was perhaps the hollowest victory she could ever remember.

Days and nights bled into one another, Taissa eventually carrying on as normal, while Niklas sank like a stone, unable to move. His psychosis became worse, seeing, hearing things that were no more real than any other figment conjured by his illness, his anguish. One morning, though, he finally saw all he desired lying right there next to him, the sunlight catching her features, bathing her in a heavenly glow.

“You came back.”

Turning, she smiled, shaking her head. “I didn’t. And I never will.”

Her imaginary presence wove healing bandages around the fractures of his shattered heart, but her words brought him no peace. He was too far gone for that now.

“Look at what you have done to me.”

Her hand reached to cup his face, shaking her head. “You did this to yourself. I warned you what I’d do. Remember?”

He did.

“Not before I ruin you, Niklas. Because I will, don’t say you weren’t warned.”

“Don’t be her,” he whispered, his hand covering hers, clenching around her fingers. “Be who you showed me. One more time. Just once, Tai.”

Wordlessly, she shuffled nearer, curling against his chest. He snaked his arms around her, turning onto his back, her dainty weight pressed against him as he stroked her arm and kissed her hair. It was so real, so palpable, but he knew. He understood in the depths of his anguished delirium that it was only a memory, and that was all she ever would be.

“I love you, Niklas.”

But she didn’t, and it ripped him to pieces, empty winds scraping across the dark pit of sorrow he’d fallen into. His mouth twitched in a half smile, because what an incredible album this would birth, the masochism achieved. She was gone, and he was once again absconded to the cold void he’d welcomed with open arms.

It engulfed him entirely, and the pain... oh, the haunting, all-encompassing pain of it.

It burned bright white.

The End.

#niklas kvarforth #niklas kvarforth fanfiction #shining band #shining #black metal #metal guys

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