[Fyodor D. X Reader] Birds in the House of the Living

00: Genesis

INTERLUDE

Two hours.

You stay seated on the mattress, looking up at the clock. 5:00 PM, it reads. Your execution is in 2 more hours, which you had been notified of 24 hours prior. Your day consisted of woeful attempts of reconciliation with things you never had, friends, family..

The officer (who was in charge of you) was appalled when you concluded not to contact any of your family members. They weren't even aware of the fact that you were still alive. What difference does that make? Dead to them; dead soon.

You are unfailingly prepared for your death, in fact, come to think about it, there isn't a moment in your life where you felt like you belong. Being far and distanced from humans with that separating border being your "gift", is it your perception of this reality that made it harder to emerge with others?

Even if the sun and earth were to collide, you were damned to sit in a different category than the so called humans. Even in your adolescence years you were always individualistic, maybe a bit too much for a little child who couldn't fulfill their basic needs without having to dirty their hands with blood.

Two hours.

What were you supposed to do?

Normally, inmates serving the death penalty would spend their last hours hugging their friends, family, and maybe even spend it at their house if that pleased them. They would be on the line, calling their spouse and those "I love you"s' would be heard. After all is done, they would then sit alone with few remaining hours to reflect on their lives, probably reminiscing about their childhood friends.. Maybe going as far to recollect memories of their first love, first kiss, then finally, they are left wondering where it all went wrong.

Too bad that you're skipping those steps.

No one gave you a guide or tutorial when you've lived your entire life governed by a gift you never asked for. Being in between the border of physical and spiritual reality was never pleasant.

Unlike those people, the bright side was that you weren't thinking of the time where everything went wrong, you did not weep over the possibility of attaining a time machine to reverse it all. You spend the last 22 hours of your life alone, with 2 hours remaining. Alone, that's always how it was.

You try to do what any normal person would do in this state. You shut your eyes and began to think of the times where you were loved, and..

Ah. Nevermind. Your eyes open involuntarily due to the lack of memories you share with other human beings.

Let's not do that.

That familiar young officer pried his eyes on your lying figure on the mattress, staring at you from the gaps of the bars. He raised his eyebrows, an indication of his concern. He had a can of soda on his hands, normally, he'd get you out of your cell and force you to eat or drink something, but knowing this was your only day left to live, he stopped fussing over you.

"Would you like a drink?"

"No."

..That's it. Your first casual conversation with another human being in the last 22 hours. You did not feel bad in the slightest to reject his kindness. His duty was only to make sure you didn't escape and his sympathy had always felt condescending, so why should you?

♰

6:48 PM.

Ah, just a couple few more minutes before you get-

Thud.

...

Oh?

Your eyes widened at the scene outside of your cell, you quickly walked over to see a pool of blood dripping off that officer's lifeless body. There, a man dusted off his blood splattered ushanka, when in fact, most of his worries should lie on the blood that rested all over his attire.