Nightlights

0 - The Butterfly Effect

Echoes of shattering glass emerged from the decrepit house, being accompanied by the sounds of fighting to create a grim orchestration. Neighbors, onlookers, all standing watch from their windows and resting places to witness the events unfolding before them. Some recorded the sight before them, others tried to call the authorities that were being overwhelmed with reports of the events occurring. In the end, the majority were trying to prevent the inevitable. All were occupied while the fight inside escalated, a smaller, frail male being dragged into a clearer view for all to see by someone taller. Inside, the jackal was fighting for his life, using what little strength he had to fight off his deranged lover. In an act of desperation, he tried to swing a firm punch to the man's stomach to no avail.

Instead, he was hoisted up into the air by him, gasping for air from his damaged, tired lungs. Before he could mutter any cries for mercy, the jackal was fiercely thrown into the glass table nearby. Bits of glass shards crashed and scattered around below him in a strikingly beautiful and horrific display, the expression of terror on his face reflecting back toward him for a brief moment. Time almost felt like it seemed to slow to a crawl as a cavalcade of shards pierced through his flesh. His body lurched from the sudden pain before collapsing to the ground, using the last of his energy to emit a scream of absolute anguish and pain. All he could do was stare up to the other male as they crouched down onto him. They had a terrifying expression, one that could only be explained as something straight out of anyone's worst nightmare.

The man gradually pulled out a kitchen knife from his pocket, their bruised and blood splattered hands gripping to it with the intent of making the other suffer. Sirens began blaring from the distance, a parade of which were quickly approaching the house. Tears began to stream down his face, meekly weeping in pain as he felt the blade cut into his gut. Blood streamed down from the wound as it was dragged across his stomach, his large intestine gradually becoming exposed. His vision began blinking in and out, the pain rippling throughout his body and rapidly leeching any energy he had to stay awake. Blue and red lights from police cars began dancing along the walls of the house, giving the poor jackal a sense of hope that he just might, against all odds, survive this.

The tears of fear only amplified when the knife was dragged across his chest, scarring his fur as the symbol of Len was carved into his skin. The ex gradually lifted the weapon, aiming it enough toward the center of the other's chest so that it would pierce their heart. Before they could bring the blade down, the sound of wood being rammed came from behind the both of them. Loud bangs began ringing out, blood splattering over the jackal bleeding out on the floor. His vision cleared just enough to see the lover that betrayed him, the one he entrusted everything to, shot through the chest and having fallen to the ground. He couldn't help but try to smile from relief before his head fell heavy, his eyes slamming shut as he fell unconscious.

Silence enveloped him, wrapping around his being as a whole. The world fading from around him as he was dragged into the icy, cold void of nothingness. And yet, he wasn't scared. No. He was contempt. He felt comfort. Warmth. Like wrapping yourself under a heavy comforter on a frosty winter night. Like being able to sing without fear of someone watching. It was peace. It was happiness. Something he couldn't remember feeling in so long.

That euphoric nothingness didn't last long, however, the silence being cut through by the loud screeching of the alarm from his digital clock he'd sat beside his bed the night prior.

And so, he was sent tumbling back into the waking world, unsure of what was to come.