Choking. That's what he could hear when he woke up.
The sound of someone with a peach-pit stuck inside their throat.
A croak, a faint voice pleading for help.
Slate turned over in his sleep, so fast that he nearly threw himself from his nest. His eyes fell upon a shape looming over his sister's bedding and his heart sang. The figure's head snapped around, its eyes two balls of white light as they reflected the great flashes of lightning outside. At first Slate's exhausted, sleep-filled amber stones recognised the figure as the monster he feared would return.
The fall hadn't been enough. Nothing would be enough.
Eyes shooting toward his weapon, he lunged for it just as the figure wheeled around and raced for the entrance of the hut. A pant-shrill escaped him, repeating itself several times as he scrambled to his feet and clamoured after the escaping culprit. His knuckles smeared through the crimson pooling on the floor yet he ignored it, the burning rage turning to an immaculate inferno within his lungs, hotter than the very forks of electricity that split across the sky.
Once outside, the freezing cold rain hissed against his body, the wind whipping his coat in all directions. In the dark, he could make out the hunched over shape of another ape, as well as the culprit seeming to gently console her. Slate bellowed, their heads turned, and the fiend's frame straightened. Bolting forward, the hunched shape let out a yip of protest, moving out of the way of the scuffle and watching with horror. Their bodies collided with the force of a freight train and suddenly he was face to face in the mud with his brother, the hot spray of blood still upon his marred face. His milky eye stared with little emotion, his bared teeth gleaming yellow in the storm's flashes.
The air caught within his throat. He released Pine as if he were on fire and had singed his palms and fingers. "You... you coward," he breathed. "What have you.. done?! WHAT HAVE YOU--"
"She had it coming," Pine hissed. The warrior's heart dropped into his gut and he stumbled back. One.. two.. three steps. He turned on Poppy: his sister was looking upon the two with gleaming eyes, filled with guilt and sorrow. No amount of apology could possibly make up for what had just happened.
Four, five six-- Slate stumbled and dropped Koba's weapon--
Seveneightnightteneleventwelvethirteen--
"KRISSA!" Apes were audibly beginning to wake up, confused and alarmed by the sudden disturbance. The outcross burst back into his family hut, the harsh tang of coppery blood filling his nose. He dove for Poppy's nest and his hands met the ravenette's trembling arms, bowed at the elbows as she gripped at her gaping throat.
"Sl--ate--" she gasped. "I-- can't--"
Slate brought his hands to her slender neck and felt the hot blood spill out onto his fingers. All he could feel was red, all he could taste was red, and as the lightning flashed, all he could see was red. He lost count of how many times he screamed her name, the word passing his lips over and over again until he forgot what he was saying and lost control of his mouth. What was he supposed to do? Let go, go get help? Keep holding her?
He continued to apply pressure. His head turned to gaze over his shoulder, eyes wild. She sputtered, a fine spray of something wet hitting his cheeks. His voice rose high above the crackle of the storm, screaming at the top of his lungs out into the night. The blood just kept coming. Her hands clawed at his shoulders and flanks, desperate for help. Desperate for air.
He heard the approach of fellow colony members, yet couldn't fight the ill churning within his gut. Nic was the first one inside, his hands upon his shoulders as he leaned over her body. Too hollow to fight back, he allowed the human male to remove his shirt and quickly apply it to her throat. All he could hear between his ears now was the steady thud of his heart, similar to that of a tom-tom. With each beat, it grew louder.
Slate raised his hands and stared at them in the purple light, each flash in the raging sky illuminating the thick dark liquid on his leathery skin.
This was Krissa's blood.
Her life.
Spilling out of her body. Killing her.
YOU ARE READING
Not Like You (The Simian Forest Saga: Vol. I)
Adventure"The rain grew colder, the canopy enamoured and blushing even deeper shades of auburn and gold. The tension was growing and the entirety of the large ape colony knew that it would snap at a moment's notice. They were all waiting-- waiting for someth...
