all colored blue [Callum's first death?? Dominic's here too]
Jul 30, 2020 23:10:32 GMT -5
Post by pogue on Jul 30, 2020 23:10:32 GMT -5
C A L
He feels the knife leave his hand, ice cold metal brushing against bloodied fingertips, but he doesn't get to see if it truly lands on Dominic's body, vision pulsing and blurring as his gaze drops to the red sand below him. The colors dim in response to the blood that drips from the open wounds that litter his body, remnants of Dominic's revenge pressed into his skin. He feels it with every painful breath, the way the pain billows and flows from the open gash that runs diagonal across his chest, shattered pieces of bones sticking out from untethered skin.
His head falls heavy back against the red sand, feeling the granules press against the back of his skull like knives, poking through matted bloody hair and reminding him that, above all, he is still here in this world, if only for a moment. His vision forces itself upwards towards the dull grey of the sky, and as he feels the tears mingle and gather within his eyes he can hardly make out the way the clouds twist and turn amongst themselves, effortlessly rising and falling into each other before dissipating into the sky.
Even as a dead man, broken and bloodied and bruised and fading into obscurity, he swears he can see knights and castles in the clouds as they move past him.
His fingers twitch, one last burst of energy as he curls them down into the final resting place he lays in, red sand twisting and falling as fingernails carve their way into it. Ghostly and cruel, he feels the same fiery warmth of his older brothers hand falling into his, interlacing fingers with his own as they'd walk through the district square. He feels the innocence laced within the memories, coursing through his veins and replacing the adrenaline that once planted itself firmly in his mind and heart and blood and soul.
It feels cold, so fucking cold. But calm, too, like the ocean waves that he hears crashing to his left, softly screaming into the void.
He wishes he could go back home, feel the soft warmth of his brothers arms wrap around him and pull him close, feel their heartbeats thump, thump, thump in their chests. When they were young, he would press his form into his brothers body and wrap the blanket tight around them, the harsh cold of the Winter night nipping softly at their heels. They would watch until the dead of night, the darkness spreading through the creaking floorboards and peeling wallpaper, until the embers that once crackled and danced through the room flickered and sparked out of life, succumbing to their end. He would fall asleep pressed into Elijah's chest, feeling the soft thump of his heartbeat. He would wake up in his bed, covers pulled tight and pressed down into the spaces between his body and mattress to make sure he was kept warm.
He nearly smiles thinking about it, but when he tries to move his muscles he feels his face crack and the pain shoot up from the wound in his chest, breathless cough shattering into the world as he feels his body begin to numb itself.
To take for granted that which you did not deserve in the first place.
All this time, he thought it to be human. Yet, as he feels his soul drip from his chest he can't help but feel regret riddled deep in his bones, to feel as if he was never deserving of what he'd had.
It's humbling, but painful. In a way that feels so inhumane.
One last fairy tale shattered, Dominic's form enters his vision as he lays in the dirt, sputtering and gasping for breath, bloodied spit dribbling from his lips with every pained breath he takes. The little black dots swirl and dance in his sight, obscuring his vision as he's forced to look at the boy that had ripped the seams out from his chest in the name of a fallen ally. He sees red in between slowing heartbeats, Dominic's form shattering and twisting as a wave crashes softly against his cheek, effortlessly overflowing into his eyes and falling down into open mouth. He coughs, feels the echoes of his own death reverberate inside of his chest and join the pain that shoots up into his cheeks, swallowed by the numbness that closely follows.
He can hardly feel the way his mouth dribbles salt water and spit, red with blood and vibrant against pale cheeks.
"You- y- you should m-make sure I-.... I don't- come back." The words are broken and disjointed, carrying the sort of pain that is only felt when one's life is clawed out from their soul, but he spits them up at Dominic as the boy stands above him, sputtering his last bit of poison out into the world as his hands shake against the red sand, pathetic and ready to be forgotten.
"I tried- I tried to b- bash her... head in." He chokes the words out, heart going into overdrive as the last bit of adrenaline leaks out from his open chest. he doesn't know why he says it so viciously, so laced with poison. Perhaps it's that he doesn't want to come back, perhaps it's that he doesn't think he deserves to.
"G- go ahead." The words are soft now, pleading and desperate, broken boy speaking a broken language.
"This is... for Jade."
“But is it?”He thinks to himself.
He sees Dominic raise his weapon, light dancing off the bloodied gemstone.
Feels it crash down against his chest one final time.
The world goes from red
to
black.
He feels the waves press softly against his cheek as he fades into the darkness, called back to a home he never knew he needed.
He wonders what his brother would think of him now, all bloodied and bruised and sinking into the sand. Wonders if he’s proud, if he’s sad, if he’s lost, if he’s finally found. His final chapter breaks apart at the seams, bloodied fingerprints left on the pages.
The last thump of his heart rings in his chest and a final breath, cold, snakes down through his throat.
His story ends. An epilogue begins.
