[M] [P] Pain is a God.

Lucia Cabriel · 08-23-2010, 08:52 AM

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WC: 573.

Minutes felt like hours. Each whistling bird song blended in with the next, and there was little recognition of the world around her. Lucia, still only half conscious, could not even tell whose scent had wafted into her nostrils. All she knew was that she prayed it wasn’t Daisuke coming to finish the job, although some remote wrinkle in her brain whispered quietly, reminding her that she had made it to the borders, and if he were to attack now, it would be a death sentence. Even Snake would not be able to save him from that.

Opening her ebony eyelids as much as she could, a constant blinking from the tears building in her eyes, she snarled again. Her voice was quiet, and broken – distorted from the aching in her ribcage. That had been where he had sat on her, pushed her into the sand, somehow hoping to suffocate her in the wastes. Still with an arm around her waist, she attempted to push herself up, wanting to see who, or what, had come nearby. It failed, miserably. Collapsing almost instantly, the ebony female hissed painfully, her face wrinkled with disgust. Not so much at her injuries, but at herself; deep down, some part of her brain laughed at her, told her to be stronger. It called her weak, it called her pathetic, but most of all, it called her nothing.

Lying in the dust, Lucia could feel the tug of darkness pulling at her skull again. She could taste blood in her mouth, the bittersweet taste of defeat in her heart – she wanted to curl up and die, she didn’t want to face it. Her lover’s stalker had won this round, and he had tortured her good and proper. The bruises on her face throbbed, the cuts on her lips still bleed – droplets clotting into balls in the dirt beneath her. Coughing harshly, a mixture of blood and tar in her saliva, she finally caught glimpse of a blurry outline. Somebody was here.

Lifting an obsidian arm, she reached out feebly, trying to signal her position. “Help,” she croaked, giving up her pride. If she didn’t catch this coyote’s attention, no doubt she would lose consciousness again. She couldn’t go back there, she wouldn’t go back there – his face, his words; screaming in her head, flashing images that just wouldn’t stop. He had gotten into her brain, into her veins; he had fractured her soul good and proper. It wasn’t clear whether that was his intention, but Lucia knew that the only reason she still breathed now was Snake. Daisuke’s love for him had kept her alive. For the most part, she was thankful for that at least.

As the blurry shillohette limped closer, the scent became clearer through the stench of blood. It was Kaena, the coyote she had met on her first time passing the Inferni borders. “Kaena…” she wheezed, trying to lift her head to look at the Centurion, “Thank god you’re…” she paused, mid-sentence, as her vision straightened out. It was clear that Kaena had been in a battle not long ago, she appeared to limp, and was in her secui form. “What!?” she remarked, shock in her voice, “You’re injured! What…” Her body shook violently, a snarl erupting from the pits of her stomach. The pain was almost unbearable; her shoulder burning from the symbol Daisuke had carved into it with her own dagger. “What happened…?”

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