Reviews, of course, are welcome. This should provide a little bit of background to one of my RPs, if you know what I'm talking about, of course. *laughs*
A soft whimper, almost unheard in the whistling wind, as though a fallen leaf that had whirled away in the breeze, forgotten and unnoticed. He clenched his fingers, shakingly - it hurt to even do so, but the pain kept him thinking, conscious, enough to at least try to figure out what he should do. Where was he now...? Oh, yes, the clearing... in the woods. Before, a place of picnics, laughter, and the tiniest spark of peace. Now, a place of the stench of blood... pain.
It was the pain that hit him most, that blinded all his other senses - the smell, the hurt of lying on an uncomfortable ground, the cries of ravens circling above. They were coming for him, they circled where they knew something would die. Groaning under his breath, he tried to move, inching his limbs under him, clutching with desperation at the flimsy little blades of grass that somehow proved even stronger than his efforts to get up. Get up, his mind whispered. But there was no response. His body could not obey.
And no wonder, for his wings - vast expanses of white that had for his whole life determined what he was - lay a few feet away, the joints dipped in crimson, matching to the gaping wounds on his back. Blood - his blood - was dripping still, out of the wings, out of his body, pooling in crimson puddles on the ground, seeping into the dirt and staining the grass red. He had never bled before. And now that he was, he knew he could never live to recount the memory.
But did he want to live...? He scrunched up his face somewhat, squeezing his eyes shut even as the tears slipped down, streaking tracks across his cheeks. The pain... it seemed to be all over him, everywhere, the fire that now rippled across his back where the wings had been ripped off, in places too that he had tried to keep pure, untouched. Now he cried silently, not only for the fact that he was going to die, but also for the fact that he would die dirty, impure. Touched.
But... I can't d-die... I... I must... become pure... a-again... And e-even if... not in t-this life... t-then the n-next...
Another weak groan, and he slumped, trying to conserve what energy he could. Not that the energy itself would have helped. But still he tried. And then, he could feel the footsteps near him - a familiar presence, that he could sense, that now recoiled in disgust at the sight. Help, he wanted to say, drag out that word, shameful though it was. Take me away, or kill me now. Whichever it is... just do not look upon me like that... it wasn't my choice...
Then the presence, fading, walking away, leaving him there. A shudder coursed its way through his limbs, and he stiffened, whimpering weakly. He had never been weak before - or if he had, he had never shown it. As a Guardian, he could not have. But now, he felt weak, and his body convulsed for a painful moment with dry sobs - he had already worn himself out earlier, and there was nothing left to cry now.
Then I shall die... be it this way... I shall live again, one day... and exact revenge on those who took my wings, my body... my life...
A soft sigh of resignation, and his hands, grasping the grass that cringed under his touch, relaxed. Lifting his head as best as he could - for the last time - he smiled to the sky, then dropped, eyes fluttering closed as he did so.
And all was still.
^___^ Feel free to leave comments! ^^
AngelRaz · Mon Jul 31, 2006 @ 03:39pm · 2 Comments |