Chapter 3 - Darkness
Submitted November 24, 2005 Updated June 26, 2007 Status Complete | Shonen-ai/Slash! For DD_DM. A black-winged angel finds himself caught up in the fate of a young boy that defies existence itself, a boy with paradoxed wings, a boy named 'Iris'...
Category:
Fantasy |
Chapter 3 - Darkness
Chapter 3 - Darkness
Iris
+--
Light.
Darkness.
Was there any real difference between them? When there was light, there was darkness. ...But without light, darkness would still exist.
...Why?
He was running. Quiet bare feet whispers on the splintered, rough wood. He could feel nothing.
No, he could feel.
He felt pain.
The soft drip drip on the ground. A flash of agony. So much pain.
Iris slowed his breathing down, silence and darkness engulfing him in the shadows. His pale gray eyes were as blank as ever as he blinked almost sluggishly, looking around himself.
An abandoned building. Leftovers of a library, torn bits of book and paper lying on the ground, shelves toppled, a shattered glass window. He could jump out of it, if he needed to, but he was afraid of the sharp jagged fingers of glass scratching upwards, and closing down from above.
Drip drip.
His right arm was slick with blood. It looked like nothing more than a cut, not hard enough to sever, not deep enough to bite bone.
But he couldn't ignore the pain, the screaming.
It was firey hot and icy cold, the blood slipping from inside of him, burning a trail over his pale, ghostly white skin, drip dripping softly, silently from his fingertips.
Everything hurt so much.
Iris sighed as he leaned back against cool stone, sliding down to sit with his legs half-curled up and his right arm touching limply to the ground. He turned his head to the side, left cheek pressed against the cold, inanimate stone.
So like himself. But even stones did not feel pain.
Why?
The boy closed his eyes, ignoring the patter of feet he heard from somewhere downstairs. So they were on to him.
...What did it matter?
Why did he bother trying so hard to live?
Everyone wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill him. Nobody, nothing wanted him to live. ...Except for... the lab.
...Maybe it was better to die.
Iris blinked open his eyes slowly, staring unseeingly ahead. Shadow and darkness and the faint choked whisper of moonlight. So dark.
If he tried hard, if he tried to seek that quiet calm in the raging storm always lashing out inside of himself, he could tune out the pain, the screaming, everything that threatened to rend each sinew and muscle inside of his body apart.
How long until they found him?
Iris closed his eyes again, sighing softly. Ripped and rotting strands of rich velvety cloth hung around the window's frame, billowing out with a gust.
There was no wind tonight.
"So."
Slowly, tiredly, Iris opened his eyes, pulled his cheek away from the cool, cool stone.
Valkyre stood before him, dark jacket and clothing making his pale face stand out through the black bangs, amethyst eyes burning bright like they held fire within them. His raven-black wings arched around him, soft feathers hushing whispers in the thin, wavery air.
"Iris."
The boy tilted his head to one side slightly, eyes expressionless. He wasn't surprised. He knew.
He didn't reply.
Valkyre stepped closer, gloved hand easily flicking a dagger out of a sheath strapped low on his waist. The sharp, light blade flashed in the darkness.
"I'd have to say, I'm kind of disappointed. You're supposed to be a pretty high bounty, but a little scratch has got you curling up like an insect from a flame."
His eyes were as cool and as cold as the dagger in his hands. He flicked it quickly, steel singing sweetly through the air.
"Well?"
He stepped closer, movements careful, calculated. He knew what the boy was capable of now, yes.
Iris stayed where he was, barely bothering to lift his gaze to meet the other's. He did, for just a brief moment, then he closed his eyes.
He heard Valkyre move closer, felt the soft brush of wings just faintly, like butterfly kisses, on his cheek.
He looked up.
The angel's eyes were as cold as ever as he gazed down at the boy, black wings drawing back again. But they hinted at confusion, brows furrowed, lips drawn into a thin, tight line.
"What is it?"
A question, not out of sympathy or caring. Demanding.
Iris kept the amethyst gaze. He sighed, silently.
"...I'm tired..."
Valkyre was silent, knowing the boy was not done speaking.
"...tired of living."
Iris blinked, eyes heavily lidded, seemingly uncaring. He turned his gaze away, stared out the open window with its jagged, shattered pieces of glass glinting in the faint light, wirey frame of the window twisted like clawing fingers. Somewhere out there, behind all of the thick, stormy clouds, there was the moon, and the stars, and the infinite night sky.
He looked back up at Valkyre.
"...Kill me."
It was nothing more than a whisper, calm and soft, a statement and a fact, not a request or demand.
The angel's gaze flickered, faltered.
"...Why?"
Iris blinked, kept the eyes that were shifting now, confused and tense. Afraid to fully face him.
"I want to live. But I don't."
He searched those deep violet eyes, searching that warm, passionate soul inside. Warmth, darkness. Did those go together?
"Kill me."
Footsteps, faster now. Closer. They were coming.
Iris closed his eyes, content. The pain would stop now, the screaming would stop.
...But it didn't. He heard the clear hum as the blade slid home into its sheath, and a faint rustle and flutter of clothing.
He snapped open his eyes and gasped, wordlessly, as he felt a gloved hand on his cheek. Angel, angel, his blood was singing, screaming.
Deep, rich amethyst eyes gazed at him, dark bangs brushing his forehead.
"...Why?"
The blood was building up, rushing, drip drip, pounding inside of him, the touch of hand on his skin so impossibly warm, making him want to scream, to cry.
Iris opened his mouth to speak, but darkness bled into his vision like spilled ink.
His last image was of those deep violet eyes and the black wings of an angel.
+--
AN: Ooooh, a halfway long chapter this time. Sorry.
With the way the plot's going, though, it's bound to get longer. My stories always do that. :P
Well, the obvious buildup is coming. I'll get around to it, somehow. I'm going to try and work out how the next few parts go... After a while, I'll be free to spin off as I please, but for now, I need to really re-do this from my older scrapped version of 'Iris'... I've got a blurry idea as to how this should go.
And, yes, I like to stick to as few close characters as possible. But I'll be introducing some new ones sooner or later, so it'll get more interesting. Heh.
...I name these individual chapters as Iris01 and Iris02 and such, which proves that sometime, sooner or later, I'll get to the double-digits. I swear, if I've got any goal to set, it's to get into the double-digits. XD
Updates will be rather sporadic for a while though, I've got homework and school as usual, and I can only hope for a clear period during winter break. ::muttering to self:: goddamn science fair...
Well, see ya. [Soon, hopefully. Though, y'know, more reviewers would help... ::half-hearted attempt at insinuation::] ...Tch.
Ciao.
+--
Light.
Darkness.
Was there any real difference between them? When there was light, there was darkness. ...But without light, darkness would still exist.
...Why?
He was running. Quiet bare feet whispers on the splintered, rough wood. He could feel nothing.
No, he could feel.
He felt pain.
The soft drip drip on the ground. A flash of agony. So much pain.
Iris slowed his breathing down, silence and darkness engulfing him in the shadows. His pale gray eyes were as blank as ever as he blinked almost sluggishly, looking around himself.
An abandoned building. Leftovers of a library, torn bits of book and paper lying on the ground, shelves toppled, a shattered glass window. He could jump out of it, if he needed to, but he was afraid of the sharp jagged fingers of glass scratching upwards, and closing down from above.
Drip drip.
His right arm was slick with blood. It looked like nothing more than a cut, not hard enough to sever, not deep enough to bite bone.
But he couldn't ignore the pain, the screaming.
It was firey hot and icy cold, the blood slipping from inside of him, burning a trail over his pale, ghostly white skin, drip dripping softly, silently from his fingertips.
Everything hurt so much.
Iris sighed as he leaned back against cool stone, sliding down to sit with his legs half-curled up and his right arm touching limply to the ground. He turned his head to the side, left cheek pressed against the cold, inanimate stone.
So like himself. But even stones did not feel pain.
Why?
The boy closed his eyes, ignoring the patter of feet he heard from somewhere downstairs. So they were on to him.
...What did it matter?
Why did he bother trying so hard to live?
Everyone wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill him. Nobody, nothing wanted him to live. ...Except for... the lab.
...Maybe it was better to die.
Iris blinked open his eyes slowly, staring unseeingly ahead. Shadow and darkness and the faint choked whisper of moonlight. So dark.
If he tried hard, if he tried to seek that quiet calm in the raging storm always lashing out inside of himself, he could tune out the pain, the screaming, everything that threatened to rend each sinew and muscle inside of his body apart.
How long until they found him?
Iris closed his eyes again, sighing softly. Ripped and rotting strands of rich velvety cloth hung around the window's frame, billowing out with a gust.
There was no wind tonight.
"So."
Slowly, tiredly, Iris opened his eyes, pulled his cheek away from the cool, cool stone.
Valkyre stood before him, dark jacket and clothing making his pale face stand out through the black bangs, amethyst eyes burning bright like they held fire within them. His raven-black wings arched around him, soft feathers hushing whispers in the thin, wavery air.
"Iris."
The boy tilted his head to one side slightly, eyes expressionless. He wasn't surprised. He knew.
He didn't reply.
Valkyre stepped closer, gloved hand easily flicking a dagger out of a sheath strapped low on his waist. The sharp, light blade flashed in the darkness.
"I'd have to say, I'm kind of disappointed. You're supposed to be a pretty high bounty, but a little scratch has got you curling up like an insect from a flame."
His eyes were as cool and as cold as the dagger in his hands. He flicked it quickly, steel singing sweetly through the air.
"Well?"
He stepped closer, movements careful, calculated. He knew what the boy was capable of now, yes.
Iris stayed where he was, barely bothering to lift his gaze to meet the other's. He did, for just a brief moment, then he closed his eyes.
He heard Valkyre move closer, felt the soft brush of wings just faintly, like butterfly kisses, on his cheek.
He looked up.
The angel's eyes were as cold as ever as he gazed down at the boy, black wings drawing back again. But they hinted at confusion, brows furrowed, lips drawn into a thin, tight line.
"What is it?"
A question, not out of sympathy or caring. Demanding.
Iris kept the amethyst gaze. He sighed, silently.
"...I'm tired..."
Valkyre was silent, knowing the boy was not done speaking.
"...tired of living."
Iris blinked, eyes heavily lidded, seemingly uncaring. He turned his gaze away, stared out the open window with its jagged, shattered pieces of glass glinting in the faint light, wirey frame of the window twisted like clawing fingers. Somewhere out there, behind all of the thick, stormy clouds, there was the moon, and the stars, and the infinite night sky.
He looked back up at Valkyre.
"...Kill me."
It was nothing more than a whisper, calm and soft, a statement and a fact, not a request or demand.
The angel's gaze flickered, faltered.
"...Why?"
Iris blinked, kept the eyes that were shifting now, confused and tense. Afraid to fully face him.
"I want to live. But I don't."
He searched those deep violet eyes, searching that warm, passionate soul inside. Warmth, darkness. Did those go together?
"Kill me."
Footsteps, faster now. Closer. They were coming.
Iris closed his eyes, content. The pain would stop now, the screaming would stop.
...But it didn't. He heard the clear hum as the blade slid home into its sheath, and a faint rustle and flutter of clothing.
He snapped open his eyes and gasped, wordlessly, as he felt a gloved hand on his cheek. Angel, angel, his blood was singing, screaming.
Deep, rich amethyst eyes gazed at him, dark bangs brushing his forehead.
"...Why?"
The blood was building up, rushing, drip drip, pounding inside of him, the touch of hand on his skin so impossibly warm, making him want to scream, to cry.
Iris opened his mouth to speak, but darkness bled into his vision like spilled ink.
His last image was of those deep violet eyes and the black wings of an angel.
+--
AN: Ooooh, a halfway long chapter this time. Sorry.
With the way the plot's going, though, it's bound to get longer. My stories always do that. :P
Well, the obvious buildup is coming. I'll get around to it, somehow. I'm going to try and work out how the next few parts go... After a while, I'll be free to spin off as I please, but for now, I need to really re-do this from my older scrapped version of 'Iris'... I've got a blurry idea as to how this should go.
And, yes, I like to stick to as few close characters as possible. But I'll be introducing some new ones sooner or later, so it'll get more interesting. Heh.
...I name these individual chapters as Iris01 and Iris02 and such, which proves that sometime, sooner or later, I'll get to the double-digits. I swear, if I've got any goal to set, it's to get into the double-digits. XD
Updates will be rather sporadic for a while though, I've got homework and school as usual, and I can only hope for a clear period during winter break. ::muttering to self:: goddamn science fair...
Well, see ya. [Soon, hopefully. Though, y'know, more reviewers would help... ::half-hearted attempt at insinuation::] ...Tch.
Ciao.
Comments
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silverfox on February 6, 2007, 9:09:33 AM
silverfox on
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Dark_Alchemist on January 30, 2007, 11:21:56 AM
Astri on August 5, 2006, 7:17:40 PM
Astri on
![Astri Astri](http://fanart-central.net/avatars/42158.jpg)
So, Iris is a philosopher. Among other things. The interesting thing about this chapter (and something that truly demonstrates your prowess as a writer) is how different the chapter reads from Valkyre to Iris. Iris thinks in a completely different way from Valkyre, and here you can see it. This chapter is written in a completely different way from the previous ones with Valkyre. That means you can âhearâ character voice. And thatâs excellent.
Curiosity is screaming, âEnough with the analyzing! Get back to the bloody story!!â ^.^;