Regicide

Chapter 5

Blood. Warmth. Pain. That was the first thing he felt when he awoke. He could feel nothing but the scorching fire in his chest, eating away at his nerves. His amber eyes opened, and he just lay there, in a scarlet pool of his own blood.

Blood spilled by my own sister.

Squinting, the light of the sun was hurting his eyes. He could see it above him- it was midday. How much time had passed since everything happened? How was he even alive?

There was no sign of the pack anywhere. He couldn't hear friendly clicks, or see stray feathers, or smell the fresh scent of the others. Any scent, in fact, was stale. About 12 hours old.

He could feel how hollow and empty his stomach felt, how dry the inside of his mouth was.

His mind was too tired to think of what his sister had done to him- there were more pressing matters that needed to be taken care of.

He inhaled deeply, taking in all the scents around him. It was mostly just dust and sand for miles around, barren and scorched. There were a few creatures around like lizards, but they were far too fast for him to catch in his state. But wait! He recognised something. It was dead, whatever it was. A dead rodent.

Someone in the pack must have left it behind by accident.

He took in another sniff. It was old flesh, difficult to chew, but it was all there was. And it was only a few meters away, behind him and out of sight.

He shut his eyes, exhaling loudly. He knew what was to come would be extremely painful, but he had to endure if he wished to survive. He must not dare cry out too loud, for deadly predators may hear and come to take his life.

He winced, slowly heaving his centre of gravity to the side. Wrinkling his snout, he felt himself moving his body to the right. Suddenly, he lost control, and quickly slid down and hit his heavily slashed leg into the sand. He exclaimed as he felt something shoot into his limb and jump around from within, throbbing harshly. His face contorted to express pain, lips lifting up to reveal his bloodied teeth. He felt blood crawl around in his throat, both dry and wet. Shutting his eyes, he could feel tears form, though he held them back. There was no point in crying. No one would hear him, and even if someone could, they would probably want him dead. Sides heaving as he breathed loudly, enduring the pain, he planted his stiff forelimbs into the dust, sinking his claws into the sand. Slowly, he moved carefully, turning himself around. He could feel his urge to scream as thorns seemed to prick at his huge wounds, and he gritted his teeth, refusing to open his jaws and let the world know of his misery. The blood around him smeared onto his feathers, red sand clinging on like burrs to his pelt.

He stretched out one of his arms, and quickly placed his hand back in the ground. Now was the difficult part.

I just need to make this quick and get it over with.

He pulled harshly, letting out small groans as the pain became too much to keep inside. Turning himself gradually, a tear spilled from one eye as blood squeezed from his slashes. He could feel energy seep from his body, and a sudden urge to shut his eyes and sleep hit him.

But he refused to do so. He could see the tantalising corpse in the corner of his eye, a few meters away, begging to be devoured. Jaws salivating, he finally dragged himself to face it, letting out a cry of pain as his arms gave way and his front planted into the ground. He paused for a moment, straining his ears to hear if anything dangerous may come his way. There was nothing but the sound of the desert.

He could feel his eyelids sag, begging to be shut, but he wouldn't dare. He couldn't let something else get to his food. And yet, he could barely feel his arms. He couldn't move a single muscle in his body.

Don't you dare sleep! It's right there! It's right there. It's right there. It's right there...

His eyes slowly fell shut as he felt his mind drift into the darkness.