jamie
03-06-2021, 08:25 PM
jamie
I CAN’T EXACTLY DESCRIBE HOW I FEEL
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
Does it repulse him to hear her talk of Death this way?
It must. Long and drawn out and lonely. To worry of the life you leave behind! To hope that Death might be kind! How he wants to recoil from it the thought! Death is ugly and dark, such a dreadful, awful thing. Beautiful in its complete disregard for life. It had felt like coming home to have it sink its rabid teeth into the marrow of his bones. What an honor to bleed for it.
He grimaces. (Or is it a grin?) Baring the ink-black teeth. A shark-tooth smile.
Could he restore her? Beyza had told him he could do anything. All he had to do was think it. He imagines reaching out and touching that strange black mouth to the sad, wilted shoulder. And wouldn’t it be ironic to draw his power from all of the death around them to restore her? To drain whatever life remained in those ailing trees to bring her back to life?
He tilts that peculiar head and moves closer still, loitering in the periphery.
He is no monster, Jamie.
Although the voice in his head responsible for telling him this has lost some of its conviction.
But there is something else that occurs to him, too, the closer he gets.
Not something Beyza had told him but something she had shown him instead.
“I could show you,” he wheezes,
Is this a kindness? Or a perversion?
He exhales a rattling breath and nods, freakish yellow eyes brightening still in this terrible darkness. There are things there that clamor for their attention but he does not draw his focus away from her mournful face. “I could show you that there’s nothing at all to be afraid of, little tree,” he tells her. But he does not mean that he will kill her, no. He simply means that he could show her his memory of what his death was like. How he had simply dissolved, standing there on the beach. And then how the things that reach and tremble in the shadows now, how they had welcomed him home.
He draws even closer still, until that rasping breath fans across the bark of her shoulder. “Do you want me to show you?” He thinks of Balto and how desperately he had wanted to help the cave dweller. He reaches for her, stops just short of touching her, urgently whispers, “let me show you.”
It must. Long and drawn out and lonely. To worry of the life you leave behind! To hope that Death might be kind! How he wants to recoil from it the thought! Death is ugly and dark, such a dreadful, awful thing. Beautiful in its complete disregard for life. It had felt like coming home to have it sink its rabid teeth into the marrow of his bones. What an honor to bleed for it.
He grimaces. (Or is it a grin?) Baring the ink-black teeth. A shark-tooth smile.
Could he restore her? Beyza had told him he could do anything. All he had to do was think it. He imagines reaching out and touching that strange black mouth to the sad, wilted shoulder. And wouldn’t it be ironic to draw his power from all of the death around them to restore her? To drain whatever life remained in those ailing trees to bring her back to life?
He tilts that peculiar head and moves closer still, loitering in the periphery.
He is no monster, Jamie.
Although the voice in his head responsible for telling him this has lost some of its conviction.
But there is something else that occurs to him, too, the closer he gets.
Not something Beyza had told him but something she had shown him instead.
“I could show you,” he wheezes,
Is this a kindness? Or a perversion?
He exhales a rattling breath and nods, freakish yellow eyes brightening still in this terrible darkness. There are things there that clamor for their attention but he does not draw his focus away from her mournful face. “I could show you that there’s nothing at all to be afraid of, little tree,” he tells her. But he does not mean that he will kill her, no. He simply means that he could show her his memory of what his death was like. How he had simply dissolved, standing there on the beach. And then how the things that reach and tremble in the shadows now, how they had welcomed him home.
He draws even closer still, until that rasping breath fans across the bark of her shoulder. “Do you want me to show you?” He thinks of Balto and how desperately he had wanted to help the cave dweller. He reaches for her, stops just short of touching her, urgently whispers, “let me show you.”
AND IT LEAVES ME COLD
@[linnea] jamie went full freakshow