in the night, i hear 'em talk

Vesper · 03-17-2012, 09:30 PM

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the coldest story ever told

Word Count :: 505 Holy crap I almost cried writing this I never do that.

“Vessie.”

Blind, Vessie thought. I’m here, sweetheart. She stared at the male, at the dual tones of his eyes, at the realization on his handsome face as her identity became clear, whatever that meant to him. It was a realization overshadowed by hers, by the confirmation.

For her mangled ear and her deafening heartbeat, she had heard correctly. Blind had fallen under the monstrous paw of the bear. She had fallen again, crumpled against a tree perhaps, little and bleeding like last time, like last time, but she had not gotten back up.

Blind died.

No. That was impossible. Friends did not die. Friends went away on fool journeys, friends abandoned her, but friends did not die. A world without the dear girl smiling somewhere in its four corners was unfathomable. It would be like a world without a species of bird or flower—able to turn, but missing something beautiful, missing that key something that one only noticed when it had vanished, that piece that made your soul complete.

She’d always thought she could go back to Blind. Someday, if she ever changed her mind and wanted to leave, to risk the branding of traitor, to pursue a life vastly different than the one now—she could find her, eventually. Her heart would tell her where she was, and the girl would come to her call, and they would be able to run somewhere new, always, forever. But now that was gone, an option she may never have considered for the rest of her days, an option she saw flash before her eyes and fade out like a winking star.

No, no no nonono, she was not dead. She was not dead. The boy had faltered in protecting someone else. Not Blind. Not her. Not her dear girl.

Denial gave way to anger.

Wickedly sharp teeth flashed as she lunged forward a step. Her growl exploded from her chest in gnashing, drooling snaps, her blue eyes narrowed to slits of blame and punishment. “It’s your fault she’s dead!” Vesper shrieked hoarsely. “You fucking coward, you could have done something to protect her—you could have done something!” She nearly wheezed, her scarred body quivering with fury as her tail lashed, as her ice eyes melted in the heat of hellfire, burn sinner, burn. “She could be standing here instead of you, she could be here and you could be rotting like you deserve. She’s done nothing wrong, nothing wrong in the whole world; she’s pure and perfect and you could have protected her!” She moved swiftly, her weight shifting forward, as if she were going to lunge for his throat and throttle him with her jaws.

But the coywolf only collapsed, crouching low to the earth and shaking as her words continued to spill out of her mouth. “You coward, you fucking coward, you could have done something,” she gasped, and she knew that she had never been addressing the male at all.

Vesper began to sob.

somewhere far along this road, she lost her soul.

Image courtesy of ChainBound

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