Dream x--oo1
Warnings: Blood, death, spoilers for the book.
Effects: Intense pain in the left side, sorrow, and intense anger.
"Ila justicca vei cala,"
Black shadows become red. It spreads out, bleeding throughout the room. For several long moments there is only this, shifting crimson as it spreads... but soon things begin to focus. Hollow, lifeless eyes, a small mouth half-open. There's a small, low gurgle, blood gushing over shaking hands, hot and wet.
The fractured sound of laughter, low and haunting, and Locke rises from the little body on the floor, hands still wet with blood.
"Ila justicca vei cala,"
Justice is red.
He turns, and the red light intensifies. So much hate in Locke for this man, it turns his blood cold and steels his resolve.
"They were my brothers!" but the protest is ignored.
The image bleeds, hazy and indistinguishable, but there is a sound of steel puncturing meat, and the breath is knocked out of Locke as steel scrapes bone. It doesn't matter, it isn't done yet.
"Ila justicca vei cala,"
The image sharpens. Hollow, lifeless eyes stare back at Locke, and an older man's mouth hangs half open, blood creeping from the corners. Hot, wet blood stains his shoulder, runs down his arm and Locke sobs.
Justice may be red, but revenge is empty.
[ Locke wakes up with a shuddered sob- he isn't aware that the dreamberry has come on, it glows on the pavement beside him. He doesn't remember falling asleep, only remembers stumbling from the club after speaking with Desmond. The picture on the dreamberry is sideways, it shows only Locke from the middle of his torso down, but the sob that racks him is distinguishable even if one can't see his tears. His hand is fisted so hard in his hair it seems like he might tear it out. Behind him is signs of trash, of the garbage can he's settled himself behind, and now that the dream is over, he doesn't seem inclined to move, either. ]
Effects: Intense pain in the left side, sorrow, and intense anger.
"Ila justicca vei cala,"
Black shadows become red. It spreads out, bleeding throughout the room. For several long moments there is only this, shifting crimson as it spreads... but soon things begin to focus. Hollow, lifeless eyes, a small mouth half-open. There's a small, low gurgle, blood gushing over shaking hands, hot and wet.
The fractured sound of laughter, low and haunting, and Locke rises from the little body on the floor, hands still wet with blood.
"Ila justicca vei cala,"
Justice is red.
He turns, and the red light intensifies. So much hate in Locke for this man, it turns his blood cold and steels his resolve.
"They were my brothers!" but the protest is ignored.
The image bleeds, hazy and indistinguishable, but there is a sound of steel puncturing meat, and the breath is knocked out of Locke as steel scrapes bone. It doesn't matter, it isn't done yet.
"Ila justicca vei cala,"
The image sharpens. Hollow, lifeless eyes stare back at Locke, and an older man's mouth hangs half open, blood creeping from the corners. Hot, wet blood stains his shoulder, runs down his arm and Locke sobs.
Justice may be red, but revenge is empty.
[ Locke wakes up with a shuddered sob- he isn't aware that the dreamberry has come on, it glows on the pavement beside him. He doesn't remember falling asleep, only remembers stumbling from the club after speaking with Desmond. The picture on the dreamberry is sideways, it shows only Locke from the middle of his torso down, but the sob that racks him is distinguishable even if one can't see his tears. His hand is fisted so hard in his hair it seems like he might tear it out. Behind him is signs of trash, of the garbage can he's settled himself behind, and now that the dream is over, he doesn't seem inclined to move, either. ]