Mini Stories

The final three hours

A drabble of my oc Damien, Memento, and Mori. Started in the final three hours of the Unus Annus stream and finished just as it ended.

Memento Mori, everyone.

—

A hand reaches out, gentle and careful, placing itself on one cheek and then the next does the same. Soft and saddened eyes watch the two, watch as cracks slowly split across white and black skin. The colour gold spills into the cracks as if attempting to fix the damage done. But nothing can stop the cracking.

None of the three say a word, all knowing the inevitable end. Two with a time and one without. The scarred hands gently shift down to hold the hands of the two entities. The knight hangs his head, resting it against the two as arms wrap around him. He couldn't stop this, couldn't stop them leaving. The fact hits harder than perhaps it should.

Memento clings desperately to the familiar entity, burying his face in the other's neck. Mori clings just as tragically, his own face burying in familiar dark red hair. Neither entity wants to leave but the clock ticks, ticks away. It won't stop, not even for them.

Damien holds onto their hands so gently yet so desperately. He's seen so many deaths, been the cause of so many, held so many as they passed. But this...this was different. This agony tearing through him hurts more than any he's ever felt. He's lived for eons and yet nothing compared to this.

The three knew each other for just a year but in three hours the end would come. In three hours Memento and Mori would shatter, the gold unable to hold them together. In three hours they would fade from existence forever, leaving behind only memories.

The first to tremble is Mori, surprisingly enough. He'd always been the pillar, the strongest one, the one the other two could lean on. Tears flow freely from his eyes, cascading down his cheeks. Pristine white liquid against abyssal black. His grip on the knight tightens as he too begins to feel the impending end.

Memento's own tears soon follow, jet black against frost white. He's always been the more emotional of the two, the one who spoke more and showed less, lighting up the room as much as he went around. His tears soak into Damien's sweater, staining it. But even those stains will leave in time.

Finally, the knight cracks. A sob tears through him as he clings so desperately to the two of them, like doing so would keep them here. Damien wants to fight to let them continue to exist, the very need shaking him to the core. But he can't. The cracks of gold spreading across them proves as much.

Light grey wings appear and wrap around the three of them, shielding them from everything. They can still hear the ticking of the clock, just the same as always, but the feathers muffle the sound if only by a small bit. The three cling onto each other just a bit more, just a bit closer.

Memento's the first to pull away, sniffling. Not a word is exchanged as he moves to sit, growing tired from standing so long. The other two follow after and the hug is continued.

A part of them is thankful the cracking doesn't make a sound, knowing it would dig their grief further in. Memento and Mori know Damien will suffer the most, know he will be left to grieve long passed the end of the clock. So they hold the fallen knight just a big closer, just a bit softer.

Black and white tears stain the angel's form, his skin, his hair, his clothes. But the stains won't last, gone when the ticking ceases. Gone the same way the two entities will be, without a trace left behind.

Damien grips the hourglass pin in his hand, knowing it and the hoodie he wears will be the only two things that remain. He trembles, shaking and sobbing. He hates this, hates the waiting for the end. He'd fight it off if he could, fight it off with the same vigor as he will use when he fights his creator. But he can't and that knowledge is tearing into him.