jamie
Jamie
He emerges victorious.
And the dark electricity thrumming in his veins is unlike anything he’s ever felt before.
More profound even than what he’d felt when she’d touched him some years ago.
The heavenly warmth that had spiraled through him then, her elixir.
In the days when he had been afraid of what he might be capable of.
But he knows now what he is capable of and there is no room left for fear. He understands now that he is a thing built for destruction. He was built to sow devastation.
He emerges to find the whole world plunged into that same strange darkness. How he delights in it now! How seamlessly he blends into that darkness, the freakish yellow eyes and the deep red “V” carved into his chest the only thing separating him from the creeping shadows.
And he sees them, the things that have escaped the Afterlife. How deeply this thrills him, too! To think that Beyza has made good on her promise! She has brought his home to this world, just as she’d said she would.
He pulls his fog -- the only thing that is still familiar -- around him like a shroud and moves swiftly through the darkness. He catches sight of the things (he does not, will not, call them monsters) just out of the corner of his eye as they flee from him. They do not try to devour him now as they once had, as if they, too, understand that he belongs to and with them.
He does not understand the magic yet, has no real control over it, but he thinks of her and his feet carry him to the meadow as if they know he will find her there. He drags in a breath that still rattles like death when he catches sight of her through all of the strange darkness.
He does not see the thing that twists away from her. He finds her alone with the decapitated thing, to which he pays no mind, and exhales such a contented sigh.
“You did this,” he whispers, “just like you promised.” And there, that same shark-tooth smile.
And the dark electricity thrumming in his veins is unlike anything he’s ever felt before.
More profound even than what he’d felt when she’d touched him some years ago.
The heavenly warmth that had spiraled through him then, her elixir.
In the days when he had been afraid of what he might be capable of.
But he knows now what he is capable of and there is no room left for fear. He understands now that he is a thing built for destruction. He was built to sow devastation.
He emerges to find the whole world plunged into that same strange darkness. How he delights in it now! How seamlessly he blends into that darkness, the freakish yellow eyes and the deep red “V” carved into his chest the only thing separating him from the creeping shadows.
And he sees them, the things that have escaped the Afterlife. How deeply this thrills him, too! To think that Beyza has made good on her promise! She has brought his home to this world, just as she’d said she would.
He pulls his fog -- the only thing that is still familiar -- around him like a shroud and moves swiftly through the darkness. He catches sight of the things (he does not, will not, call them monsters) just out of the corner of his eye as they flee from him. They do not try to devour him now as they once had, as if they, too, understand that he belongs to and with them.
He does not understand the magic yet, has no real control over it, but he thinks of her and his feet carry him to the meadow as if they know he will find her there. He drags in a breath that still rattles like death when he catches sight of her through all of the strange darkness.
He does not see the thing that twists away from her. He finds her alone with the decapitated thing, to which he pays no mind, and exhales such a contented sigh.
“You did this,” he whispers, “just like you promised.” And there, that same shark-tooth smile.
( FROM THE DESTRUCTION, OUT OF THE FLAME
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
@[Beyza] whew jamie is RUSTY