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An Angel's Respite (Chapter Seventeen)
Loud.
That's the only thing Alexander though, or felt, or—really could remember when he ran. It was loud.
Too loud.
Like every snowflake that fell on him exploded into a million different overlapping voices, all screaming at him every single one wanting a thousand different things some demanding some asking, but some?
Some stayed completely silent.
Those were the ones he was afraid of the most.
Calculating, plotting something, like mischievous planning—toying with him, playing with their food, quietly listening to the story unfold on stage, as they would say.
Loud.
«»«»«»«»«»
Loud
—Too loud—
—you should go back to the bird.
You can't just run away from a fight!
What if he leaves? We need him for leverage!
He knows where we live, he could pass that information on to someone!
«»«»«»«»«»
Alexander felt his breath hitch as he ran, the air up in the mountains seeming to become thinner even though the height didn't change, he was on level ground, still the world spun around him. He spotted trees in the distance; it was the forest a little ways away from his house, a small dip in the middle of the plateau—the first place he took Hester and Wilbur.
The cold was starting to bite—it was doing so before—but with the sun sinking and the night penetrating the air around him with frost he thought it best to stick close to something familiar and still somewhat close to his house. Nothing dangerous lives on the snowy peaks—at least nothing Alexander could find from reading or living there—other than to stay away from caves—nocturnal creatures liked the warm damp caves the mountain provided, that and the horrific monsters called Shadows, ones that broke all rules of mortal and divine.
They couldn't touch water and never seemed to eat or sleep, forever wandering for, something or perhaps someone? Speaking in a language either long dead or one that was never found to begin with, they were easy to kill—and easy to avoid. Alexander never had any trouble with them, he has a weapon and knows how to use it.
Nothing should be too different.
Other than it being too loud.
Alexander didn't stop running even when he was far past the tree line heading deeper in the forest he's ever dared to go before. Hearing birds startled from their nests and homes rustling from the bushes he paid them all no heed as he continued to run. In protest the monsters screeched at him—even an animal—they told him.
His vision becomes a sharp red as the world around him spins nauseatingly like he was on a ship in very rough waters. Alexander knew they would absolutely get their way, with him being surrounded by everything and nothing, all at once, everything that he could give to stop the persistent mocking laughter but nothing to distract himself from it. The world was phasing in-and-out around him—seeing things that aren't there or things that shouldn't be there. He really was just a joke to the Gods wasn't he?
And with that mindset, he collapsed.
«»«»«»«»«»
Old habits do die hard, I suppose.
I think we pushed him a little too far this time.
Well, it was fun while it lasted.
Are we supposed to yell at him? Would that work?
No, he'll get up on his own.
We should do this more often, it was fun.
Is he alright?
«»«»«»«»«»
Alexander groned sightly from what he would assume was frostbite attacking and numbing his legs at the same time, the monsters yelled and screamed some with delight, alert, frustration, or fear a few pelting him with questions and quickly telling him what happened—however they were immediately drowned out by the others. He realized he was slumped against a tall pine tree, one with the bottom not covered by the leaves or branches, staring off to an invisible horizon trying not to blackout or close his eyes for too long, not wanting it to happen again, for a very very long time.
He knows what had happened, he thought he finally got it too—got the hang of it. But he still flinched when he saw his hands, a thin layer of red liquid, droplets freezing from the night chill. His metal prosthetic scratched and nicked but seemingly alright even with the grind of blood cracking when he moved it. He feels the pulse of it again as he stretches it out to nothing in particular pausing from the shear amount of blood on his hands—literally—his hand and prosthetic going from his fingertips to his forearm and close to his elbow smeared with the liquid, he knows it's not his—even thought he wished for it to be.
"What happened?" He drawled irritatedly, though still needing an answer—wanting on the other hand, well that wasn't an option.
«»«»«»«»«»
You killed a rabbit.
«»«»«»«»«»
"Uh huh." He said doubtfully, maybe three rabbits he thought humorlessly looking at his hands as his head painfully rings out with laughter. "What else?" Without pausing the monsters replied instinctively.
«»«»«»«»«»
And a fox.
«»«»«»«»«»
"And?" He knows it had been around an hour with the monsters doing whatever they wanted, as he truly became a mindless killer for a moment. The voices seem to find it hilarious at Alexander's dry comments.
«»«»«»«»«»
A bird.
«»«»«»«»«»
"Oh." Alexander said softly, slightly numb to the words being spoken to him at least it wasn't anything too big, or seemingly important for the forest—like a bear or a wolf. "Any birds I know?" Alexander said genuinely wondering if he saw Hester, most said no, a horrific chime of echoing overlapping voices leaving Alexander's ears ringing some wanting to mock and tease him saying yes—he didn't believe them—but didn't want them to think he cared about Hester, even though he might have cared a little bit if he stabbed Hester.
Only a little.
Alexander stood up, leaning with his shoulder pressed up to the tree putting most of his weight on it. As the world around him spins with specs of red in his vision. The silence was unforgiving, no animals around or people, perhaps that was a small blessing. -people- Alexander thought bitterly, a small amount of anger Alexander forgot was there, stubbornly drifted back, -people and they're stupid emotions- Luckily he didn't say it, he didn't want to give the voices that to throw back in his face.
He moved his arms and legs ready to find something bruised or maybe even broken, to Alexander's utmost surprise—nothing. He was tired, which was to be expected, his arms and legs ache from running around but it was manageable. He looked around the forest, pine trees rocks jutted around and snow covered the ground like a blanket, Alexander finding immediately what he was looking for, footprints long and human size his footprints, even though he had no recollection of getting there or making them.
He began roughly following the path he set himself he thought he would be seeing his delusional self running wildly around, long and clumsy footsteps blood droplets staining the ground showing someone jumpy and confused tripping and stumbling—what scared him sightly was that wasn't what Alexander saw, a perfectly even and steady pattern of his feet, he could practically see himself stalking from tree to tree, it was worrying how well he realized he could hurt something.
Or someone.
He sighed, he didn't know how long he had been here, or where 'here' was. The monsters were quieter then before without a doubt, their temper spent and energy exhausted became soft spoken talking amongst themselves. "Hello?" Alexander's voice rang out from the deafening silence. "Anyone there?" No response, unsurprisingly. The voices laughing at him.
«»«»«»«»«»
You're too far away!
«»«»«»«»«»
One said in between a fit of laughter, it sounded genuine and seemingly tired like after a long day of work but still finding the time to laugh and joke. Alexander hated it.
He dragged himself walking carefully leaning on every tree he passed for a moment to rest, his body screamed at moving every second he closed his eyes trying to block out the pain feeling a thud along with the voices in his head threatening to split his skull clean open. Still he continued hearing the idle chat of the monsters fill the cold air Alexander trying to tune it out and think of something, making him forced to reflect on today—and the past week, Hester, a Goddess he knows nothing about, the argument, his resentment to Hester—and most of all, Alexander's stupidity trying to have something he could never understand trying to be something he wasn't, trying to learn something he had long ago failed—so why try again? He knows he could never understand family so why waste his time to begin with—
«»«»«»«»«»
I don't think it's a waste of time.
«»«»«»«»«»
"What?" Alexander said, trailing off letting the rest of his words die on his tongue, he was so thrown off by the comment he didn't even realize he was talking out loud, he cursed silently at himself for being so thoughtless. The same voice cut in, so did others forcing him to hear what they had to say—some more cruel and reckless jabs and heartless words thrown in his face.
«»«»«»«»«»
Look, he might have a point, this could all be a waste of time.
We should just mind our own business, the bird won't be staying here forever after all.
What if he's leaving already?
What if he leaves and is hurt?
Just let him and the kid die, good riddance.
We should protect him!
«»«»«»«»«»
The last sentence was louder than the others and made Alexander's head ring and spin at the same time everything seemed to mimic it, now most saying to 'protect him' protect who? Hester? Wilbur? No, they all hate them, why would they want to protect them? "Why is this the one time you can't all just agree?" He said hearing them bickering back and forth, they usually did this on a more quiet day letting the hours slip by with meaningless arguments, some were quite confusing others somewhat funny.
"Protect who, who's in trouble? What aren't you telling me?" Alexander said his voice becoming hollow and cold, the monsters—if they even could—recoiled at the question. The monsters weren't silent however, they were never silent, still being pestered with mocking laughter and small remarks. They didn't answer his question and he didn't ask again. He rested for a moment leaning on a rock letting his hair fall over his face like curtains, it was dirty and had knots in it like a ball of yarn, still that didn't stop a small flare of yellow to catch his vision.
«»«»«»«»«»
What's that?
The kid likes those flowers right?
Maybe we could give them to him.
Why is everyone so excited over stupid flowers?
What's wrong with him?
Why would flowers make someone cry?
«»«»«»«»«»
"Shut up," He said, blinking the unshed tears away, he was not going to cry—nevermind over flowers. The monsters still went on about the flowers though, saying 'it's a sign' for something to happen to Wilbur or maybe Hester but they sounded almost worried for them. Like they cared about Hester, which was beyond impossible—Alexander doesn't even care about Hester why would the monsters? He scrubbed at his face trying to make them dry, he somewhat succeeded.
«»«»«»«»«»
Do you think the bird's ok?
What if something happened when you left?
We have to keep them both safe!
Protect them!
«»«»«»«»«»
They chanted the last two words again, making Alexander feel ill, like the noise was a huge cannon being fired inside his head. "Protect who?" Alexander said numbly, this time they answered.
«»«»«»«»«»
Hester, and Wilbur!
«»«»«»«»«»
They screeched in unison, "Why do you care about them all of a sudden?" Alexander stumbles but still continued to limb slowly. Getting so very tired of everything the monsters did to tick him off—this had to be some sort of trick and a dirty handed one at that for using Hester and Wilbur—they didn't respond to the question just continuing to talk to one another idly like they didn't even hear him—it was infuriating.
"Just be quiet already." Alexander spat, ignoring whatever they wanted from him, he saw ahead of him was the tree line—a row of pine trees unable to grow making a strange curve. A willow tree was the final one he had to pass, the trunk being carved and scratched overtime with Alexander counting down the hours or peeling the bark off of it to make the mind numbing days go by quicker.
After a few feet he saw the silhouette of his house. He turned back confused for a moment—how did I get here? He thought, making a picture of the mountain in his head, the mountain had two forests Alexander knew about, he entered one and exited the other, then Alexander remembered—right, blacked out. He thought humorlessly, looking around leaning on the tall tall elegant tree, heavily debating if he should just sleep there.
If the monsters became loud again he wouldn't have to worry about anything—other than him walking a few feet to the front door, that was if Hester was even still there that is.
The tree was oddly shaped, looking more like an apple tree with the branches being long and sturdy but almost brushing against the ground. Alexander used to spend most of his time here—before he met Hester he used to read sitting on one of the lower branches when the weather was nice. He swung one leg over the branch and rested sitting on it—he wasn't going inside.
He didn't think he could see anyone right now—even with the monster screaming at him to move, he didn't, he kicked his feet up, put his hands under his head to support it and just closed his eyes as the monsters screamed for blood, others surprisingly stayed silent—not quiet, silence.
He's a coward.
Alexander couldn't tell if a monster said it, or himself.
But either way, Did it really matter?
After all, he's a monster, a liar and a killer, why not add coward to that list?
At least he knows it.
[[]][[]][[]][[]][[]]
Art by Rexmin on redbubble
I like this one, but mostly because I like writing whatever Alexander has to deal with when the voices talk to him. Maybe I'm just going crazy but who isn't here? 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜
© Unavailable
[[]][[]][[]][[]][[]]
That's the only thing Alexander though, or felt, or—really could remember when he ran. It was loud.
Too loud.
Like every snowflake that fell on him exploded into a million different overlapping voices, all screaming at him every single one wanting a thousand different things some demanding some asking, but some?
Some stayed completely silent.
Those were the ones he was afraid of the most.
Calculating, plotting something, like mischievous planning—toying with him, playing with their food, quietly listening to the story unfold on stage, as they would say.
Loud.
«»«»«»«»«»
Loud
—Too loud—
—you should go back to the bird.
You can't just run away from a fight!
What if he leaves? We need him for leverage!
He knows where we live, he could pass that information on to someone!
«»«»«»«»«»
Alexander felt his breath hitch as he ran, the air up in the mountains seeming to become thinner even though the height didn't change, he was on level ground, still the world spun around him. He spotted trees in the distance; it was the forest a little ways away from his house, a small dip in the middle of the plateau—the first place he took Hester and Wilbur.
The cold was starting to bite—it was doing so before—but with the sun sinking and the night penetrating the air around him with frost he thought it best to stick close to something familiar and still somewhat close to his house. Nothing dangerous lives on the snowy peaks—at least nothing Alexander could find from reading or living there—other than to stay away from caves—nocturnal creatures liked the warm damp caves the mountain provided, that and the horrific monsters called Shadows, ones that broke all rules of mortal and divine.
They couldn't touch water and never seemed to eat or sleep, forever wandering for, something or perhaps someone? Speaking in a language either long dead or one that was never found to begin with, they were easy to kill—and easy to avoid. Alexander never had any trouble with them, he has a weapon and knows how to use it.
Nothing should be too different.
Other than it being too loud.
Alexander didn't stop running even when he was far past the tree line heading deeper in the forest he's ever dared to go before. Hearing birds startled from their nests and homes rustling from the bushes he paid them all no heed as he continued to run. In protest the monsters screeched at him—even an animal—they told him.
His vision becomes a sharp red as the world around him spins nauseatingly like he was on a ship in very rough waters. Alexander knew they would absolutely get their way, with him being surrounded by everything and nothing, all at once, everything that he could give to stop the persistent mocking laughter but nothing to distract himself from it. The world was phasing in-and-out around him—seeing things that aren't there or things that shouldn't be there. He really was just a joke to the Gods wasn't he?
And with that mindset, he collapsed.
«»«»«»«»«»
Old habits do die hard, I suppose.
I think we pushed him a little too far this time.
Well, it was fun while it lasted.
Are we supposed to yell at him? Would that work?
No, he'll get up on his own.
We should do this more often, it was fun.
Is he alright?
«»«»«»«»«»
Alexander groned sightly from what he would assume was frostbite attacking and numbing his legs at the same time, the monsters yelled and screamed some with delight, alert, frustration, or fear a few pelting him with questions and quickly telling him what happened—however they were immediately drowned out by the others. He realized he was slumped against a tall pine tree, one with the bottom not covered by the leaves or branches, staring off to an invisible horizon trying not to blackout or close his eyes for too long, not wanting it to happen again, for a very very long time.
He knows what had happened, he thought he finally got it too—got the hang of it. But he still flinched when he saw his hands, a thin layer of red liquid, droplets freezing from the night chill. His metal prosthetic scratched and nicked but seemingly alright even with the grind of blood cracking when he moved it. He feels the pulse of it again as he stretches it out to nothing in particular pausing from the shear amount of blood on his hands—literally—his hand and prosthetic going from his fingertips to his forearm and close to his elbow smeared with the liquid, he knows it's not his—even thought he wished for it to be.
"What happened?" He drawled irritatedly, though still needing an answer—wanting on the other hand, well that wasn't an option.
«»«»«»«»«»
You killed a rabbit.
«»«»«»«»«»
"Uh huh." He said doubtfully, maybe three rabbits he thought humorlessly looking at his hands as his head painfully rings out with laughter. "What else?" Without pausing the monsters replied instinctively.
«»«»«»«»«»
And a fox.
«»«»«»«»«»
"And?" He knows it had been around an hour with the monsters doing whatever they wanted, as he truly became a mindless killer for a moment. The voices seem to find it hilarious at Alexander's dry comments.
«»«»«»«»«»
A bird.
«»«»«»«»«»
"Oh." Alexander said softly, slightly numb to the words being spoken to him at least it wasn't anything too big, or seemingly important for the forest—like a bear or a wolf. "Any birds I know?" Alexander said genuinely wondering if he saw Hester, most said no, a horrific chime of echoing overlapping voices leaving Alexander's ears ringing some wanting to mock and tease him saying yes—he didn't believe them—but didn't want them to think he cared about Hester, even though he might have cared a little bit if he stabbed Hester.
Only a little.
Alexander stood up, leaning with his shoulder pressed up to the tree putting most of his weight on it. As the world around him spins with specs of red in his vision. The silence was unforgiving, no animals around or people, perhaps that was a small blessing. -people- Alexander thought bitterly, a small amount of anger Alexander forgot was there, stubbornly drifted back, -people and they're stupid emotions- Luckily he didn't say it, he didn't want to give the voices that to throw back in his face.
He moved his arms and legs ready to find something bruised or maybe even broken, to Alexander's utmost surprise—nothing. He was tired, which was to be expected, his arms and legs ache from running around but it was manageable. He looked around the forest, pine trees rocks jutted around and snow covered the ground like a blanket, Alexander finding immediately what he was looking for, footprints long and human size his footprints, even though he had no recollection of getting there or making them.
He began roughly following the path he set himself he thought he would be seeing his delusional self running wildly around, long and clumsy footsteps blood droplets staining the ground showing someone jumpy and confused tripping and stumbling—what scared him sightly was that wasn't what Alexander saw, a perfectly even and steady pattern of his feet, he could practically see himself stalking from tree to tree, it was worrying how well he realized he could hurt something.
Or someone.
He sighed, he didn't know how long he had been here, or where 'here' was. The monsters were quieter then before without a doubt, their temper spent and energy exhausted became soft spoken talking amongst themselves. "Hello?" Alexander's voice rang out from the deafening silence. "Anyone there?" No response, unsurprisingly. The voices laughing at him.
«»«»«»«»«»
You're too far away!
«»«»«»«»«»
One said in between a fit of laughter, it sounded genuine and seemingly tired like after a long day of work but still finding the time to laugh and joke. Alexander hated it.
He dragged himself walking carefully leaning on every tree he passed for a moment to rest, his body screamed at moving every second he closed his eyes trying to block out the pain feeling a thud along with the voices in his head threatening to split his skull clean open. Still he continued hearing the idle chat of the monsters fill the cold air Alexander trying to tune it out and think of something, making him forced to reflect on today—and the past week, Hester, a Goddess he knows nothing about, the argument, his resentment to Hester—and most of all, Alexander's stupidity trying to have something he could never understand trying to be something he wasn't, trying to learn something he had long ago failed—so why try again? He knows he could never understand family so why waste his time to begin with—
«»«»«»«»«»
I don't think it's a waste of time.
«»«»«»«»«»
"What?" Alexander said, trailing off letting the rest of his words die on his tongue, he was so thrown off by the comment he didn't even realize he was talking out loud, he cursed silently at himself for being so thoughtless. The same voice cut in, so did others forcing him to hear what they had to say—some more cruel and reckless jabs and heartless words thrown in his face.
«»«»«»«»«»
Look, he might have a point, this could all be a waste of time.
We should just mind our own business, the bird won't be staying here forever after all.
What if he's leaving already?
What if he leaves and is hurt?
Just let him and the kid die, good riddance.
We should protect him!
«»«»«»«»«»
The last sentence was louder than the others and made Alexander's head ring and spin at the same time everything seemed to mimic it, now most saying to 'protect him' protect who? Hester? Wilbur? No, they all hate them, why would they want to protect them? "Why is this the one time you can't all just agree?" He said hearing them bickering back and forth, they usually did this on a more quiet day letting the hours slip by with meaningless arguments, some were quite confusing others somewhat funny.
"Protect who, who's in trouble? What aren't you telling me?" Alexander said his voice becoming hollow and cold, the monsters—if they even could—recoiled at the question. The monsters weren't silent however, they were never silent, still being pestered with mocking laughter and small remarks. They didn't answer his question and he didn't ask again. He rested for a moment leaning on a rock letting his hair fall over his face like curtains, it was dirty and had knots in it like a ball of yarn, still that didn't stop a small flare of yellow to catch his vision.
«»«»«»«»«»
What's that?
The kid likes those flowers right?
Maybe we could give them to him.
Why is everyone so excited over stupid flowers?
What's wrong with him?
Why would flowers make someone cry?
«»«»«»«»«»
"Shut up," He said, blinking the unshed tears away, he was not going to cry—nevermind over flowers. The monsters still went on about the flowers though, saying 'it's a sign' for something to happen to Wilbur or maybe Hester but they sounded almost worried for them. Like they cared about Hester, which was beyond impossible—Alexander doesn't even care about Hester why would the monsters? He scrubbed at his face trying to make them dry, he somewhat succeeded.
«»«»«»«»«»
Do you think the bird's ok?
What if something happened when you left?
We have to keep them both safe!
Protect them!
«»«»«»«»«»
They chanted the last two words again, making Alexander feel ill, like the noise was a huge cannon being fired inside his head. "Protect who?" Alexander said numbly, this time they answered.
«»«»«»«»«»
Hester, and Wilbur!
«»«»«»«»«»
They screeched in unison, "Why do you care about them all of a sudden?" Alexander stumbles but still continued to limb slowly. Getting so very tired of everything the monsters did to tick him off—this had to be some sort of trick and a dirty handed one at that for using Hester and Wilbur—they didn't respond to the question just continuing to talk to one another idly like they didn't even hear him—it was infuriating.
"Just be quiet already." Alexander spat, ignoring whatever they wanted from him, he saw ahead of him was the tree line—a row of pine trees unable to grow making a strange curve. A willow tree was the final one he had to pass, the trunk being carved and scratched overtime with Alexander counting down the hours or peeling the bark off of it to make the mind numbing days go by quicker.
After a few feet he saw the silhouette of his house. He turned back confused for a moment—how did I get here? He thought, making a picture of the mountain in his head, the mountain had two forests Alexander knew about, he entered one and exited the other, then Alexander remembered—right, blacked out. He thought humorlessly, looking around leaning on the tall tall elegant tree, heavily debating if he should just sleep there.
If the monsters became loud again he wouldn't have to worry about anything—other than him walking a few feet to the front door, that was if Hester was even still there that is.
The tree was oddly shaped, looking more like an apple tree with the branches being long and sturdy but almost brushing against the ground. Alexander used to spend most of his time here—before he met Hester he used to read sitting on one of the lower branches when the weather was nice. He swung one leg over the branch and rested sitting on it—he wasn't going inside.
He didn't think he could see anyone right now—even with the monster screaming at him to move, he didn't, he kicked his feet up, put his hands under his head to support it and just closed his eyes as the monsters screamed for blood, others surprisingly stayed silent—not quiet, silence.
He's a coward.
Alexander couldn't tell if a monster said it, or himself.
But either way, Did it really matter?
After all, he's a monster, a liar and a killer, why not add coward to that list?
At least he knows it.
[[]][[]][[]][[]][[]]
Art by Rexmin on redbubble
I like this one, but mostly because I like writing whatever Alexander has to deal with when the voices talk to him. Maybe I'm just going crazy but who isn't here? 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜
© Unavailable
[[]][[]][[]][[]][[]]
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