my demons {Faux & Vepar}

Sometimes he sees them, his brothers, Crusader, Weaver, and Tamron sitting right beside him as the animals of the world roam freely, but at this moment it all feels so foreign and so far away. Life as he knows it is changing, and even the stuffed Harbinger brings no comfort. Loneliness is hard to deal with despite the peacekeepers keeping guard. They want nothing to do with him. The Avoxes don't care because they're simply running around the prison, yet their prison is so much different than the one Faux's finding himself stuck in. It's just a giant open space with various areas set up for different things. Right now he's nothing more than a caged animal waiting and wondering what's actually going to happen.

His conversation with Glamour comes and goes. Some moments it floats through his mind reely, yet when he goes to recall exactly what was said, it vanishes into thin air like it never even exist.

This place is a strange place, and Faux finds himself walking along the walls looking for an escape. The arena was bad enough, but this is much worse. The lights burn his eyes, and they never seem to go away. He has nothing but his stuffed brother. All his friends are gone.

Dying isn't like this. It's supposed to be peaceful, and yet this is far from peaceful. This room, the walls, everything about this place is a nightmare.

I want home.

Shaky hands pull at the bandages wrapped around his head - he winces in pain, and it brings him back to reality. All his life he's been told pain doesn't exist when someone crosses into the next life. Even in dreams it's nothing but half screams bellowing from the lips as the monsters grow closer.

But who are the monsters?

A soft sigh escapes his lips as he turns around. He yearns for company. Someone to talk to. Someone to help him figure out what's happening because nobody else is doing a good job at it. Closing his eyes, Faux tears through the thoughts racing through his mind trying to remember the conversation he had just a little while ago.

Something about dying.

Screams.

Dark.

Light.

Revived?

What's the purpose? Why would anyone want to keep someone as pathetic as himself alive? Faux's done nothing except take up space in the district. Freedom is what he yearns for, and they won't even give him that.

But now he's here locked away in some sort of prison somewhere, but what they don't realize is the only prison containing him is himself. Thoughts form, yet the speech isn't there. Words don't make sense. They get lost inside his brain. They travel on their own without any worry in the world.

What I do for this?

He comes to a stop where all the cots are. They're very uncomfortable, and even as the lights go dim, Faux can't shut his body down. Something keeps him going. Perhaps it's the loneliness, or maybe it's the fear that if he does close his eyes, this place will only become a dream.

With a shrug of his shoulders, he turns around and continues pacing because to him that's the only thing keeping him alive.