A Contrite Spirit

Ch. 3: Agony

A Contrite Spirit

Hey guys, Charisma here! First of all, This is the LAST chapter of A Contrite Spirit. You probably guessed that already seeing as Ulysses' Lyrical has only three chapters, but yeah, last chapter. Third, thanks again to the people who reviewed this and my other stories: your help is always appreciated.  With all of that being said, hope ya'll have a great morning/afternoon/night, (I have no idea where you live and at what time of day you read Fanfics; be glad I don't, cause that's creepy), and I'll now continue the story.

(P.S. This chapter is very emotional and graphic. Contains blood/gore. Viewer discretion is advised. :)

Disclaimer: I dont own PAW Patrol, but I do own everything in this chapter. It doesn't even have anything to do with the PAW Patrol. XD

Chapter 3: Agony

Jax, Angelica and Ingrid had been full-on running for a whole fifteen minutes, which is impressive considering that they were cats and couldn't get anywhere very quickly. They had only traveled a couple blocks, but were wheezing as they slowed to a stop to catch their breath.

"We..(pant)...have to.....(pant)...keep going!" Angelica hissed, expending a massive amount of her minimal energy to gasp out this single sentence. She felt as though she was going to faint, and her legs gave out from beneath her. She tried to keep her consciousness, but her fatigue won over, and she passed out.

"Mom!" her children cried as they stumbled over to her, checking her over and trying to get her back on her feet and to her senses.. They finally managed to wake her up, but she was too weak to walk. Her paws were bleeding, and she was in desperate need of some water. "Go on! Help your father! He needs help!" She managed to croak out before passing out again.

"Jax, what do we do!?" Cried Ingrid, clutching her frail mother in her arms. Jax didn't know what to do; usually his parents were there to help guide him in tough situations, but this time, neither one was available. He had to think of something, and he could only think of one plan.

"Stay here and watch Mom. I'm going to go help Dad!" He said to his sister, trying to sound courageous and encouraging, but of course failing. Ingrid started to cry harder as she handed her younger brother the medical kit she had been carrying for Piccolo.

"Be careful she said, and hugged him. Jax hugged her back, a shining tear trickling down his face before breaking the hug and sprinting on ahead to the alleyway where he had left his father.

...

Jax had been running for another fifteen minutes and felt like he might also faint. The only thing keeping him going was the fact that at the end of the street was the alleyway he had been looking for. But as he got closer, he began to run faster. There were no sounds coming from the alley whatsoever. Jax didn't know whether or not to be happy or scared. "Maybe Dad had managed to chase off the bulldogs. Or, maybe, the bulldogs had gotten to Dad....." He tried to shake the dire thought of seeing his dear father lying mangle on the pavement, and mostly succeeded, albeit it still lingered in his mind.

He got nearer and nearer to the alleyway, and was now just around the corner from it. He could tell clearly now: the area was absolutely void of silence. There wasn't even any wind, making it all the eerie-er. Jax tentatively peeked his head around the corner, into the alleyway.

He immediately vomited in shock and horror, turning his head away from what his now permanently scarred mind had just witnessed. He felt like he'd just had an instantaneous migraine. His head spun, he was seeing stars, and he felt his legs get weaker, though not enough to collapse like his mother had. He turned his head back slowly, closing his eyes, and opening them only when he had completely turned it back towards the alleyway.

He opened one eye, and there still sat his father's decapitated head, blood oozing from the place at the bottom where the rest of his neck and body should be, but wasn't. The colour had drained from the cat's face, making him like whiter than before, and his eyes which still remained open stared blankly into Jax's soul. He wanted to die; he vomited again, this time right in front of the head in front of him, and just stared back at it, too shocked, bewildered, and distraught to even cry or say anything. He managed to tear his eyes away from his dad's capitulum and gazed down the alleyway in an almost stupor of disgust and sheer horror. His father's body had simply ceased to exist, his patches of fur strewn everywhere along the ground, along with his internal organs and entrails. The kitten's body had met the same fate, only his head was nowhere to be seen.

Jax dropped the med pack, shocked now to being at a point of a medical emergency, his blood pressure dropping and his oxygen supply and demand decreasing dramatically by the second.

His head buzzed, the same way soldiers' ears did after an explosion, and the world slowed to a snail's pace. He saw his sister Ingrid and his mother come running up the sidewalk, happy to see that Jax was okay but doubly worried over the face he was making as he gawked lifelessly at the place he had betrayed his father and left him to die alone. He heard the muffled cries of his sister as she bawled over her father's untimely destruction, embracing Piccolo's head with all of her being, her might, her will. Angelica just cried. She was almost as shocked as Jax was, and knew that she had just scarred both herself and two of her children for life. "What have I done?"

Eventually they left, after about two whole hours of shocked wailing, moaning, crying, and even silence. They didn't say anything. They didn't care if their lungs burned and ached with the pain of running all the way back to their alley across town. They didn't even care if they died right that instant. They were desensitized, and would be for a long time.

Over the next two years, all of Jax's sisters, including Ingrid, died one way or another. Ingrid happened to die first, simply out of heartbreak over her father, two months after the incident. The other sisters all cried and mourned extensively for their family's woes; only Jax and Angelica stayed calm. They no longer really felt feeling, and for the next year and half after the incident, that fact would never change. They were robots, living but not living their lives, feeling but not feeling empathy, sympathy, or any other emotion towards others. They had been broken, and only after those two and a half years begin to piece themselves back together. Angelica realized the folly of her ways, and made a quick recovery, though she never was quite the same. Jax, on the other hand, only half rejuvenated his childhood spirit, and was now more grown-up than child. He would never be the same, being exposed to that kind of geographical gore at such a young age. But he knew one thing: he was never going to ru away from a problem ever again. He was never going to abandon someone he cared about. And he was never going to forget what he did to his beloved father.

A/N WHY ARE MY CHAPTERS SO EMOTIONAL LATELY! I think I might be going through another depression strike, and it's showing up in my stories. I'm so, so, so sorry! I actually almost barfed and cried whilst writing this.  Somebody please send some reviews because otherwise I might just have a mental breakdown. See ya'll later. :'{