Drabble: Fire
Title: Fire
Author:Vesta
No pairing
Rating: R to be safe
250 words sharp.
Notes: This is the very unexpected ninth part of the Under-verse, aka Shittyday-verse. It's a longer piece because if I had stuck with 100 word pieces I would have had to write more. I'm lazy.
But this, my beautiful friends, is really the end.
So wrong. There is no end to the wrongness. It looks at him with pleading eyes, cries a little. He doesn't listen, doesn't see. Has to do this. Has to get strong.
They are there, watching him from the shadows. Always the shadows, making them move and echo with strange whispers. The tears still burn behind his eyes, he knows what he has to do. After this, his last meal. He kisses It carefully on the forehead, listens to the whimpers before he sinks his teeth deep. Makes it quick. Doesn't play with his food like his pretty boys do. Doesn't hunt it like they do. Sleek and smooth. Beautiful. Smiling razor-sharp smiles.
Dead man's blood. They don't notice until too late. Trust him. The sharp brittle moonlight shows him the way to the yard, to the chains. His heart aches when he binds them to the railing. The sun, when it comes, will set the yard on fire. Set them on fire. As it began, it will end.
He waits. Always loved the sun. The same colour as Mary's hair, as the fire that took her. Will take them now. They wake, sluggishly. Sees. Knows. Begs. He doesn't listen.
Says "I love you. Too much to let us be this." When they cry, their tears are red.
"Dad, please. Don't."
He smiles when the sun ripples its heat through the air. The roar of the fire drowns their screams. He looks at them, never wavers, until he can't anymore.
Fini.
Author:Vesta
No pairing
Rating: R to be safe
250 words sharp.
Notes: This is the very unexpected ninth part of the Under-verse, aka Shittyday-verse. It's a longer piece because if I had stuck with 100 word pieces I would have had to write more. I'm lazy.
But this, my beautiful friends, is really the end.
So wrong. There is no end to the wrongness. It looks at him with pleading eyes, cries a little. He doesn't listen, doesn't see. Has to do this. Has to get strong.
They are there, watching him from the shadows. Always the shadows, making them move and echo with strange whispers. The tears still burn behind his eyes, he knows what he has to do. After this, his last meal. He kisses It carefully on the forehead, listens to the whimpers before he sinks his teeth deep. Makes it quick. Doesn't play with his food like his pretty boys do. Doesn't hunt it like they do. Sleek and smooth. Beautiful. Smiling razor-sharp smiles.
Dead man's blood. They don't notice until too late. Trust him. The sharp brittle moonlight shows him the way to the yard, to the chains. His heart aches when he binds them to the railing. The sun, when it comes, will set the yard on fire. Set them on fire. As it began, it will end.
He waits. Always loved the sun. The same colour as Mary's hair, as the fire that took her. Will take them now. They wake, sluggishly. Sees. Knows. Begs. He doesn't listen.
Says "I love you. Too much to let us be this." When they cry, their tears are red.
"Dad, please. Don't."
He smiles when the sun ripples its heat through the air. The roar of the fire drowns their screams. He looks at them, never wavers, until he can't anymore.
Fini.