A Sunset Red As Blood

Stone

"Fen?" comes a quiet voice, hesitant, scared. Back in reality now. Back in the halls. Back with the clinking of metal against stone, the dripdripdrip of water hitting the cold, cold earth, and the unyielding darkness. I am so tired now, just wanting to sleep, to go back into the veil, because by the trees set down so many years ago, it hurts, it hurts so much. To know. To remember. I don't want to be sentient anymore. The pain, the not-wanting wraps around my throat and chest like a snake, choking my lungs.

"Fen?" The voice again. Rosin's voice. Reminding me who and what I am.

"Rosin." I reply wearily. A huff of relief comes from several steps to my right.

"Are you okay?"

I snort at this. Nothing is okay. Not now, not ever. Not when everything was great was anything okay. The world is too destroyed, too ravaged, too full of hate and pain and fury and grief for anything to even loosely be defined as alright. Ever.

"Well, if you're snorting at me again, then you must be better." His voice is sarcastically hopeful now, though the constant undercurrent of anxiety is still there, like a tremor of an earthquake miles and miles away. I laugh softly.

"I suppose you could say that." It feels better now, and I can feel myself relaxing slightly, like the snake decided it didn't want me dead after all, just slightly tenderized. We sit in silence after that, knowing that at least we'll have each other for the short time we have left to live. All sounds begin to die out.

Until.

"Fen, who did you kill?"

The calm breaks, and suddenly I'm lashing out again. I snarl and leap to my paws, storming in the direction of his voice, stopping at the last second as my whiskers brush the bars and I go still.

"Doesn't bloody matter now, does it? I'm still stuck here, aren't I?" Memories of the night It Happened rush around my head frantically. Blood spattering soft fur. Light leaving bright, shining eyes, full of anger and love and grief, to be replaced with the blankness of one blind. Three quiet, whispered words from a throat raw with tears.

"Fenris, please-"

My howl tears from my throat, shredding me to pieces even as the furious strength wells up in me.

"You think I wanted this? You think I wanted them dead? You have no idea what it means, what it means to kill, to rip, the surge of anger that guides your fangs, the satisfaction that buoys you up and makes you want to scream because you did this, not a character in a scroll, you've taken the life of something real!"

I hear the click of claws against rock and the heavy breathing of one who is terrified. I slump down against the stone. In its cold arms, I give up.