metanoia | alec lightwood

54

Blood.

Crimson, dark and thick. It was warm and it stained my palms and clothes. My shirt was white and ripped in places, tinted with the gore.

I was at Kosti Lustr.

The room was empty and the blue tint from the light casted over my face. I slowly looked up from my hands and looked straight ahead. At my reflection in one of the reflective pillars.

Blood was splattered on my face like paint on a blank canvas. Hesitating at first, I tilted my face to look at the left side of my face. A scarlet colored handprint was plastered across the side of my face. It was smeared; like someone was trying to fight for their life. But worst of all, worse than being covered in someone's blood head to toe, worse than knowing by the pattern that someone was fighting for their life— I was smiling.

That's when I heard it.

Choking.

Gasping for air.

My head slowly turned toward the sound and on the ground laid Alec. He had many wounds, but the most prominent one was the one deep gash in his throat. Blood was seeping out of the gash and he kept coughing. Choking on his own blood.

Next to him laid my kindjals. Covered in blood.

His blood.

But then I realized it wasn't just his blood.

Because just a few feet away from laid Jace. There was a trail off blood leading to him, and he was wounded too. He wasn't struggling, he wasn't gasping for air— because he was already dead.

And the speed of my gaze quickened, following the trail to find more bodies. Isabelle, Clary, Simon, Luke— dead, dead, dead, and dead.

My eyes widened, taking a step back and examining myself. My eyes flickered back from them and myself, quickly and repeatedly.

I killed them.

My breathing quickened.

I wanted to scream.

My hands were trembling and my eyes were so wide that they could fall out of their sockets. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream so loud that it felt like my voice was going to give out. But, no.

I was laughing.

"No!" My scream was so loud and panicked I felt Alec jolt beside me when I threw myself up into a seating position, breathing heavily and sweating.

"Hey, hey, hey-" Alec gripped my arms immediately but I jolted away from his touch. Alec grabbed onto me again, more firm but gentle. "Zee! Look at me— it was just a nightmare!"

My eyes scanned his face.

He was alive.

He wasn't bleeding, he wasn't wounded, he wasn't choking on his own blood. He was sitting before me, staring at me pleadingly, the grip he held on me being the first distinction between my nightmare and reality.

I tore from his grip.

Quickly, despite Alec calling out my name and telling me it was okay, I threw on his sweater that was draped on a chair. I left our room, blinking away tears as I went.

Our living room was cold, the floor feeling like ice when my feet padded further in and onto the carpet. And suddenly I regretted tearing away from Alec so quickly; I missed my warmth.