viva la vida ♘ { day four } noelia/raptor

A strike is delivered from thin air, deep and gushing, a river of blood trickling from the wound as if there is no tomorrow.

I lose myself in the thought.

The beast only delivers me evil doubled, launching itself towards my leg with it's cruelty and carelessness. I feel a thick sensation of burning surge through my body as if power, yet it cannot be channelled into an attack -- it only makes me feel weaker.

Less like a monster.

Perhaps the fourth day would be how it would all collapse. A kingdom built of paper would get soaked through eventually, and china soldiers would fall to break. I'd seen what had happened to Leticia, how it had all turned so bitter in the blink of an eye and how death found a way.

Death could always find a way.

Even though I tell myself that death is not the end, I recognise it is all just an act to feel better. It'll work from the time being, but all I can forge from these demons are temporary solutions to permanent problems.

I'll fall flat soon, I know it. Just like Draco, Noelia, Cody, Dustyn. Just like Quadrys had done in the midst of the breeze. Taken from a loosening grip; I was oblivious to it all.

If only reaping a muttation life was as easy as that of a human one. They are the spawn of evil's spawn, and have a heart caged into iron bars which is surrounded by a dancing flame. Entering to slay the beast inside the beast is a journey difficult to take, but thoughts of seeing Ellerie again make it worth it.

I think of Ten, I think of Dane, and realise seeing Ellerie again comes at a grave cost. Moments like these make me regret my decision to save my delicate sister from life's unheard and unsettled battles, but times cannot be turned by silken fingers.

Unspoken drive steers me towards the creature once again. Hope in my head, my heart and my chest that makes me feel more than a human but less than a monster.

My only comfort is found in imagining the worst times, because it makes this feel better than bad. That maybe, just maybe, it could all be kissed better and cured.

The devil's extraordinary hand does not touch the overly ordinary fallen angel.

I'd doubt Ellerie would have made it this far.

We had been good at this before. Slaying mythical creatures within the comforts of our back yard, conjuring a story of a princess and her sword and the damage done. It was lethal, it was creative, but it was just that: fictional.

Fighting demons in the night with the stars of lost allies gazing down from above, to huddling troubled villagers to a safer destination to ensure that no harm would be done. The darkness was always played by the invisible, neither of us wanted to be the villain.

Five years later and two have turned, only one spotlight left in the pitch black.

And I don't remember it like this. Things were easier, simpler. It all moved along like a rolling bundle of joy, but this tragedy barely moves at all. Stone walls built around me; I can't even imagine an escape route in this hell.

There is a will inside me that refuses to give up, that refuses to look high and low only to take the easy way out. I am prepared to fight like a warrior, and wage war on unclaimed turf and the bodies of innocents no matter the cost. These sick fantasies are becoming part of me, a disease to the mind which my conscience cannot run from.

Though there was heartbreak when I watched as my hopeful but hopeless twin expose herself to the other realm, I learned one thing. Once your heart's been broken, it grows back bigger. Stronger, just like I needed it to be.

But I was not anticipating volunteering.

Perhaps if I am to follow in the Tibideaux footsteps before me, I pray that the same shall happen to Ellerie. Alone, lost in the wilderness of aftermath -- she will be okay, I'm sure. She'll be fine.

She has to be fine.

After all, a victory would mean nothing but a prolonged series of pain and suffering, but still it is a cause worth fighting for.

No, no, no -- not now, a stitch in time saves nine and I swim within a sea of greying memories and hopes which are set to fall short of the line.

I try so hard to achieve peace in my mind, that the unimportance of it is not seen. Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel anyway? There are bigger problems facing me.

Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?