Electress [Makai Ouji]

Chapter Five

I wish the air was warmer so it didn't burn quite as badly as it tears through my throat. I wish my skin was cooler so that sweat could stop dripping into my eyes and making them sting. I wish my legs would last forever, that my heart wouldn't thunder so loudly, so my lungs could keep breathing. I wish I didn't have to run like this. "Moooom!" I wish my voice didn't sound so incredibly desperate, so heavy and shrill and terrified. "Dad? Dad!" I wish the rain would stop whipping water underfoot, and that I wasn't stumbling quite so often. I wish my hands weren't bleeding, that my knees weren't strained, that my ankles weren't painful.

I wish I couldn't hear the blood roaring in my ears. "You have to get out!" I wish I was faster, I wish I was stronger. I wish, I wish, I wish that the sight before me is an illusion. Black, putrid smoke pours from windows like some great wave of slime, climbing, staining, reaching for the sky. I wish that the flickers of red and orange, yellow and blue, weren't quite so ominous. I wish the wooden structure of the house before me was ten times stronger as beams collapse and sparks fly. "No! No, no, no!"

I wish the arms winding around me weren't so warm and comforting, that they weren't so strong. I wish I could break free as I struggle forward, ready to plunge into the sea of heat and embers. "Let me go!" I wish the rain would kill the fire. I wish the fire would kill me. "I have to- I have to get them!" I wish the words following weren't quite so true.

"There's nothing you can do."

My eyes open blearily as I stare at the roof. My position on the couch is new, and the last thing I remember is talking about how great it would be to visit someone back home. "Hey, there." Sammy says, sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning over my head.

"Sammy." I murmur. I feel slow and tired, like food coma, only ten times worse. For a moment, I'm tempted to go back to sleep. Instead, I curl into a ball with Sammy at the center, my head resting partially on his lap. "I had a weird dream."

"Oh?" Sammy asks, his blue eyes darkening. "What was it?" I shrug one shoulder, my eyes closing.

"Doesn't matter." Sammy's here. Sammy will make everything better, like he always does. Sammy runs his fingers through my hair, his movements slow and gentle.

"Was it that one?" I hum in response, slightly displeased when Sammy freezes and tenses. "It's okay." He goes back to making soothing movements once I curl more tightly against him.

"Sammy... don't you have to go to work?" I ask, opening my eyes slightly so I can judge his expression. "You'll be late..." The blue-eyed boy shakes his head.

I'm pretty sure that Sammy has work right now. I know his work schedule better than I know my own, really, but does it actually matter? Probably, but I don't care. Sammy is warm and his motions are making me want to fall asleep again. "Yo, Art- Sammy?" I can hear Sitri's disturbed tone of voice, and it's a little concerning. "What are you doing?"

I'd answer for Sammy, tell Sitri to shove off or that Sammy isn't doing anything he doesn't usually do, when I see something I really shouldn't. Wings? Are those wings? Real ones? They're too detailed and perfect to be fake. "Hell cannot have a new king." A shot of electricity speeds down my spine. "And the Elector must be dealt with properly. Art, don't you want to go to heaven? Do you want to spend the rest of your existence in bliss?"

I feel really, really sleepy. "Isn't that what slutty brownies are for?" I groan, rolling over and burrowing into the couch. Sitri releases a muffled snicker. "Heaven, God, all that isn't real. Take your joke somewhere else, Sammy. Nice wings by the way. Kinda suits you."

Honestly, something's pretty off here, but there's not enough hours in the day for me to actually care. I'm too preoccupied trying to get back to sleep. I almost succeed, but then the electricity bolts down my spine again and my eyes snap open. There is something wrong. Something very wrong. My head feels fuzzy and it's getting hard to think. "Sammy, what'd ya do to me? I feel foggy." My voice comes out thick and sleepy, like syrup.