OUTSIDERS ONE SHOTS! WOO

The Sweet Release of Death.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor. Blades clashing as they hit the floor with a thud.
"Oeca, I don't want to do this." Ori warned, clutching his sheathed sword. It's blue and gold striped handle well worn from nights in the forest maze.
Oeca's face tipped up, staring mockingly down at Ori in disrespect. He sneered, his nose curling up in disgust.
Ori clicked his sword, hesitating to think whether he should strike or not.

Maybe he should.

Oeca swung a curled up fist, thrusting his body into it. Slowly reaching towards Ori, this was his only chance to get him down. Taking that into consideration through his careful decisions and calculations, he put all of his power into it. 

Ori stepped to the side, seemingly shocked. His eyebrows curled, his hand gripping the sword handle. All this seemed to play in slow motion in Oeca's eyes, which dulled in fear. The crayon texture of solid fading red. Oeca sped to a halt, his straw hat falling to the ground.

Ori held his sword out, pointing it to Oeca threateningly.

Just then, Oeca turned to face him. Maybe he could just barely reach the sword in his hand. He pushed his hair up past his forehead, gaining a fighting stance as he threw his fist down to look at it.

Ori stood there confused, but wouldn't dare take an eye off of him. This was dangerous enough. Oeca's eyes flashed ruby with anger, madness, hunger. All wrapping themselves around his true fear. 

His hand twitched and shook, but he grasped it into a fist. "Not yet. I have one last try." He muttered, looking down to the fist as if to persuade Oeca to give him one last ounce of control.
Not that he needed to, anyway. He looked up to Ori, who seemed to look concerned.
"Please don't make me do this." The angel called, praying they could give the boy one last chance.
Graecie, she seemed to have fled? He'll find her later, it doesn't matter.
"..." He steadied, adjusting his posture. He looked relaxed, but unamused. "You won't have to." He smirked, then charged at him with full speed.
"He won't." He thought to himself.

He froze, staggering. That simply made the pain worse.
I did it, didn't I? If so, why do I feel so...
He touched his chest, looking down at the blade that was half way through his chest.
It was as if time froze. He looked up, eyelids relaxed.
A pale and horrified face of regret, a halo dripping with what Oeca imagined to be tears of the divine.
The ivy green that would cling to the walls, waving through the wind ever so slightly.
He looked up to the sky in a defeated smile, tufts of hair curled and waving. His face pale from the blood loss.
Snowflakes fluttered down, the cloudy sky opening up with sunlight streaming through the cracks.
He could hear a faint voice calling from one of the distant corridors.
Seemingly then, he stepped forwards into the blade until the handle pushed against his now stained bloody shirt. The sliding of the metal hurt, but almost hurting his friend hurt more. I'm sorry Graecie.
He kept that smile, which made Ori flinch in horror.
He especially flinched then, Oeca reaching towards Ori.
He pulled Ori in for a hug, burying his tear stained face that curled up in fear and regret into Ori's shoulder, the gray crayon that he often scribbled on his face dripping down in the well mixed silver tears.
Let us have this for a moment, Oeca. The red eyed Oeca mumbled into his mind, echoing across the cavern that his true self sat in, curled up in fear.
That moment. What could I say?
What would make me redeem myself?
If I do...
Will it reach him?
Mohwee.
Mohwee...
Oh Mohwee, you've always been by my side.
Thank you, oh thank you.
All the moments we spent together.
The words of advice you gave me.
I'm so sorry.
Did I break your trust?
Did I shatter your world?
Is this a respectable way to die...?
Yes.
I'll see you someday.
Maybe.
"Oeca.." Ori mumbled, his voice cracking sadly. It broke his heart. This poor child, truly a heartbreaking sight.
Ori rubbed the boy's back, resting his head in his hair.
He knew then, when he stepped forwards through the blade.
He intends to die here.
He wants to die here.
I'm not going to ruin that.
But... I want him to atleast get forgiveness before he goes.
He deserves to know.
"Oeca, I forgive you." Mumbled Ori, but he knew it was loud enough because he heard muffled sobbing. His hands dug into Ori's navy blue coat.
It was cold, and even though he shakes it off each morning he gets down from his treehouse, he still had snow in his hair and coat. Especially the boots he wore.
Ori hummed a faint lullaby, intending to preserve the pureness in Oeca's farewell. After all, he respects the kid.
Soon enough, Oeca pulled away abruptly. He stepped back, one by one. He kept his unsteady eyes fixated on Ori's puzzled and horrified expression. One he just wouldn't be able to get out of his head for those last few seconds. Ori's blade was soaked in blood, some staining the handle.
Ori noticed one of his eyes were now a glistening silver.
Perhaps it was a snowflake, or some other phenomenon that caused it to look that way.
The kid smiled in defeat, looking to the angel in pity and happiness.
"Oeca, wait-" Ori reached out, his hands shaky to the point where he dropped his sword onto the bloodstained maze floor.
Oeca held one of his knives.
His hand was steady around the leather handle, which he gripped with his last shreds of hope. The polished sharp blade glistened, engravings carved into one side. The spark of light aided Ori in catching a glimpse of the words.
"Oeca and Goggle Boy."
He remembered that in a flash.
His first knife he made upon arrival. Ori called out. "PLEASE!-"
"I don't like doing farewells, but..."
Oeca said plainly with a chuckle of pain.
"Goodbye, Ori."
His dagger swung down, Ori reaching out to try and stop him. That small memory gave him hope. He wanted to atleast try. Maybe if...
Ori halted.
The dagger plunged into Oeca's ribcage, a snap as it broke through and pierced his heart. His free hand waved as he collapsed to the ground.
His eyelids were fluttering, eyes partially shut. He heard his name. "Oeca! Oeca?"
It was a voice he hadn't heard in awhile.
Huh.. my straw hat.
He looked to his right, where it sat several feet away. He began to roll onto his stomach, crawling in desperation for his hat.
His hand just barely touched the rim as he fainted, Ori leaning over and lifting up Oeca's arm gently. With his other hand, he nudged the hat into his side, and placed Oeca's arm around it.
Ori kneeled, putting his hands together to pray.
"Oh great angels, hear my prayer. Please let him arrive to the afterlife safely, and forgive all of his mistakes."
He pulled a flower out of his bag. A blue orchid, the ones he plucked from the cracks of the maze floor from his years outside the clearing. He rested the floor on Oeca's chest, the flowers that were delicately weaved together by fate's passion resting peacefully.
"Goodbye, Oeca."
Oeca.
"Oeca!"
The child sat up, looking around with a puzzled expression.
"Where the hell?" He was cold, and plus there was someone nagging him. "Oeca!"
It was Squidney, who was bundled up in a sweater, scarves, and layers of coats. He had been wrapped in a blanket.
"Oeca! You're going to catch a cold!" She insisted, whining and pulling on his wrist.
"Sorry, I must've been daydreaming and dozed off again."
"Daydreaming?" She laughed. "You and your dreams. It's okay to nap outside, but atleast bundle up! It's winter, you're going to get sick!" She smiled, worryingly.
"Ash is waiting at home for us, she picked some pomegranates."
Oeca beamed with an excited grin, standing up. "Really?!"
Squidney laughed, rubbing his head to mess up his hair. "Haha, yeah. Let's go home."
They walked off together, joking and laughing all the way home.
~End~