dali fatale {{ four (fin) . cbd 1

She's gone.

A boy, a body, and a man. They're gathered in a quant little home on the outskirts of four, the ocean breeze whistling through the house and striking at their bodies, salt of the air nestling into their skin. The boy is bloodied, his nose crooked and blood trickling down from a split lip. His eye is black and blue, the color of an ocean storm raging in the distance. 

"You killed him." 

"I...overreacted." 

"You overreacted?"

They wait until the cover of the night, counting their blessings and cleaning their stains, white knuckles clenched tight around a bloody knife, pulled from the man's throat and returned to it's owner. A sheet from his bed and a funeral fit for the damned, they set him into the sea and let the waves take him away, the moonlight reflecting against the waves, laughing at their torment. 

His brother lets him sleep that night, but as soon as he steps foot in the kitchen the next morning his brother's fist slams into the counter, knife in his hands stabbed into the cutting board, his eyes burning like fire when he turns to him. 

"This search, quest, whatever it is. It needs to stop, Dali."

They share silence, daring one another to speak. Outside, the wind blows, laughing at the way they tremble, at the shattered pieces of their lives. 

"You don't think she's alive, do you?" 

More silence, he bites his lip as his brother's eyes waver, dropping from eye contact to the ground. After too many moments his brother steps forward, placing a hand on his shoulder-

He's broken, his hand feels like fire against his shoulder. 

"She's gone, Dali."

"No-" 

"She's gone."