Killian could barely open his eyes now. The sickly, sticky tears had all but glued them shut, clinging to his thick lashes and bringing even more vision problems. His whole body was numb, he could barely move. He didn't want to, not anymore. Just stop. He thought. I just want the pain to stop. The monstrous hunger in his belly was agonizing, an exploding migraine crushing down on his head as if somebody had dropped weights onto it.
Voices in the background were garbled, like he was underwater. His mind was distant, no solid thought stayed for longer than a few seconds. His consciousness itself floated in and out, ghosting the open air, free and yet still so trapped. It was like his body was holding him hostage, but part of him felt as if he could let go, peacefully float away like a bird on soft winds. And yet he stayed, for what reason he wasn't sure. It could be over. It could all be over. He thought, his chest aching. I could be safe again.
The sharp moonlight pierced his eyelids and through them, he could look through the bars of his wired cage and through a grate on the roof, just barely make out the shape of the moon and twinkling of the stars. For once, he felt at peace. Deep down he knew it was time to go, it was time to leave, to let himself fade away and rest. Jasper. He thought. Forgive me. I love you. I love you so, so much.
Thank you.
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Wake of the Dead | Three
General FictionStolen away by the Reapers, Killian must quickly adjust to his new surroundings in order to survive. It isn't easy when your captor seems to have a constant eye on you, as well as the rest of his people. Now referred to as 'Rabbit' and used as nothi...
