I couldn't sleep last night and randomly got inspiration for this, so... yeah.
He didn't remember falling asleep. One moment he was lying in bed, curled up with his girlfriend's head on his shoulder, and the اگلے he was being nuzzled awake سے طرف کی a furry maw and wet nose. His eyes flashed open. They had once been an electric blue, but were now a مزید faded denim, soft and well worn.
The بھیڑیا raised her head when her son opened his eyes, her unnaturally purple irises brightening with excitement. Sansa hoped off the بستر and looked over her shoulder to her child, tail wagging in a blur of white. Aleksander got down from the بستر slowly, the wooden floor like ice beneath his bare feet. He reached out a tentative hand toward the shapeshifter. The she-wolf's فر, سمور was thick, fluffier than the کوٹ of her young daughter, Vika, but just as brilliantly white. Aleksander wondered if his older sister knew their mother was alive. Hadn't she died shortly after he was born-
The wolf's head suddenly snapped back, sharp teeth nipping the boy's hand. Aleksander jerked his hand back, but forgot the dripping red when his mother became a white blur out a door he couldn't remember being open.
"Mama!" he called, running after her.
He ran into an sea of tall grass, so high it rose over his head and cut the sky into slivers of blue. Having run the maze a hundred times while playing war games as a part of her father's training, Aleksander knew that even gracing one of the blades of گھاس would slice his skin open. So the boy stood still on the path, the dirt beneath his naked soles warmed سے طرف کی the sun. The بھیڑیا had flittered from his mind, but there had to be someone he was looking for as there always was in this game. A person, a dog, a remote-controled car, something he would catch and take back to the base at the center of the maze-
There was a whisper of movement. The stifling air was still, yet there was a stirring of the air as something else raced through the maze. Aleksander closed his eyes. Soft thumps, almost mistaken as the beats of his heart, were barely detectable as they raced through the cleared paths. The target chose the direction and the hunter followed.
Being quiet was easy as years of training in the field came back with the chase. Breaths controlled, quiet, footsteps light, mere thumps of heartbeats against the path. Aleksander knew if he could hear his target, it could hear him. He chased it nonetheless, feeling the urgency to run faster, think quicker.
Predator ran after Prey, who was seemingly running in a pattern of an expanding دائرے, حلقہ to avoid him. He attempted to cut it off, and suddenly the دائرے, حلقہ was forced to become smaller and smaller. Right toward the center of the گھاس maze.
The circles shrank until the hunter heard the دیوار of گھاس beside him shift as the hunted ran past on the other side. Then, suddenly, Aleksander broke into the circle. At the same time, so did Castor.
Her dark hair had curled into dreadlocks and been tied back, except for a few escaped strands at her hairline, curling with sweat. Her dark skin glistened like the moist earth beneath their feet, the bright marks on her cheeks two lavender vertical lines. The sun glinted off the scales that covered her five foot long, reptilian tail. She held a raised sleek, black compact bow in her hand, a translucent arrow pointed at Aleksander. The boy found himself doing the same, projectile pointed at the girl.
Castor chuckled. "A stalemate again? I thought I was chasing the prize rabbit!" Her opponent have no response, only staring at her with astonishment. She flicked her forked tongue out at him mockingly. "Come on, don't stand there and stare at me like a vegetable-"
"You're dead."
She laughed again. "You think so?"
Like that, the دائرے, حلقہ of گھاس was gone. There was nothing but sand for miles around, except an outcrop of rocks with something that resembled a fortress on the horizon. Castor's skin was now ashen as the color drained with the blood spilling from where a dagger was stuck through her throat. His dagger.
Aleksander cried out and stumbled back, but the snake-girl only grinned at him in amusement. That was wrong. She was never amused. She was too paranoid, too angry, too manipulative-
"You look confused." It was a statement. When the teenager gave no response, the elder man sighed. "Why are آپ confused, Leon?" Michel inquired patiently.
"I haven't the faintest idea what is happening," Aleksander replied. His voice sounded younger in his ears. It was as vulnerable as he always felt around the immortal man. Michel shook his head and went to the window.
A sea breeze wafted through the tower, rustling the feathers of Michel's large, black wings. They arched over his shoulders and spilled almost to the floor. The feathers were so dark, but soft, like charcoal. Yet Aleksander knew that if he struck them with force, the کوٹ would automatically harden against the force, creating an indestructible shield.
"Is this what آپ fear?" Michel asked. His back was kept to the other male, but Aleksander could guess that the guardian's eyes were as hard and dark as his wings, even in the light of the setting sun. "You fear I am going to die, like your mother and your friends?"
"Are you?" The words stuck in his throat, but the young man forced them out. The answer was a shrug.
"If I do, I'll come back. I always do."
"You have to leave before آپ can come back." Aleksander felt like his voice was shrinking. "You cannot leave me again, Michel. It isn't fair. آپ promised. آپ promised my mother that آپ would look after me, then آپ vowed to me that آپ would stay with me."
"Only until آپ were ready."
"I'm not ready," he almost cried. "I cannot face him, not alone. It was easier pretending my father was dead, but we both know he is alive."
"Why are آپ afraid?"
"He will come back. I will be alone, I won't be able to fight him. My father, he'll take me."
"Why are آپ afraid?"
"I'll have to go with him, Michel. Please, don't let me turn into him. آپ promised I would be dead before that happened. Will آپ kill me? Please, it would be better than becoming a monster like him!"
"Why are آپ afraid?" Michel asked a third time. His wings were spread wide, flapping lightly as he rose and fell gently. He was hover just beyond the cliff, out of reach, and strong hands were holding Aleksander back. They were bigger than him, strong adults, and he was only a child. Struggling against the strong hands gripping his arms proved useless. A row of men stood with their backs to the child, each with a machine gun aimed at Michel.
"Do not be afraid, Leon," Michel told him. His lips mouth silently, "Run."
"MICHEL!" the child screamed as the firing squad opened آگ کے, آگ on the winged man. He took off, evading them, distracting them. Aleksander wrenched free of the hold, his captors caught up in he confusion, and he turned and ran. It was too foggy to see moe than a foot in front of him. The tears in his eyes made his vision بادل even further. The roaring of gunfire and shouting was in his ears, the muddy earth slippery beneath his bare feet. Even as he ran, slipping and sliding in the mud, he knew that he would never be free of the fear of becoming his father-
"MICHEL!" The name was out of his mouth before he realized it. Aleksander shouted into the darkness of the room- of the apartment in Gotham- in New York- that he shared with his girlfriend- of two years.
"Alek, what's wrong?" Tara muttered from where she was buried in the covers. But the young man couldn't answer, because he was afraid.
He didn't remember falling asleep. One moment he was lying in bed, curled up with his girlfriend's head on his shoulder, and the اگلے he was being nuzzled awake سے طرف کی a furry maw and wet nose. His eyes flashed open. They had once been an electric blue, but were now a مزید faded denim, soft and well worn.
The بھیڑیا raised her head when her son opened his eyes, her unnaturally purple irises brightening with excitement. Sansa hoped off the بستر and looked over her shoulder to her child, tail wagging in a blur of white. Aleksander got down from the بستر slowly, the wooden floor like ice beneath his bare feet. He reached out a tentative hand toward the shapeshifter. The she-wolf's فر, سمور was thick, fluffier than the کوٹ of her young daughter, Vika, but just as brilliantly white. Aleksander wondered if his older sister knew their mother was alive. Hadn't she died shortly after he was born-
The wolf's head suddenly snapped back, sharp teeth nipping the boy's hand. Aleksander jerked his hand back, but forgot the dripping red when his mother became a white blur out a door he couldn't remember being open.
"Mama!" he called, running after her.
He ran into an sea of tall grass, so high it rose over his head and cut the sky into slivers of blue. Having run the maze a hundred times while playing war games as a part of her father's training, Aleksander knew that even gracing one of the blades of گھاس would slice his skin open. So the boy stood still on the path, the dirt beneath his naked soles warmed سے طرف کی the sun. The بھیڑیا had flittered from his mind, but there had to be someone he was looking for as there always was in this game. A person, a dog, a remote-controled car, something he would catch and take back to the base at the center of the maze-
There was a whisper of movement. The stifling air was still, yet there was a stirring of the air as something else raced through the maze. Aleksander closed his eyes. Soft thumps, almost mistaken as the beats of his heart, were barely detectable as they raced through the cleared paths. The target chose the direction and the hunter followed.
Being quiet was easy as years of training in the field came back with the chase. Breaths controlled, quiet, footsteps light, mere thumps of heartbeats against the path. Aleksander knew if he could hear his target, it could hear him. He chased it nonetheless, feeling the urgency to run faster, think quicker.
Predator ran after Prey, who was seemingly running in a pattern of an expanding دائرے, حلقہ to avoid him. He attempted to cut it off, and suddenly the دائرے, حلقہ was forced to become smaller and smaller. Right toward the center of the گھاس maze.
The circles shrank until the hunter heard the دیوار of گھاس beside him shift as the hunted ran past on the other side. Then, suddenly, Aleksander broke into the circle. At the same time, so did Castor.
Her dark hair had curled into dreadlocks and been tied back, except for a few escaped strands at her hairline, curling with sweat. Her dark skin glistened like the moist earth beneath their feet, the bright marks on her cheeks two lavender vertical lines. The sun glinted off the scales that covered her five foot long, reptilian tail. She held a raised sleek, black compact bow in her hand, a translucent arrow pointed at Aleksander. The boy found himself doing the same, projectile pointed at the girl.
Castor chuckled. "A stalemate again? I thought I was chasing the prize rabbit!" Her opponent have no response, only staring at her with astonishment. She flicked her forked tongue out at him mockingly. "Come on, don't stand there and stare at me like a vegetable-"
"You're dead."
She laughed again. "You think so?"
Like that, the دائرے, حلقہ of گھاس was gone. There was nothing but sand for miles around, except an outcrop of rocks with something that resembled a fortress on the horizon. Castor's skin was now ashen as the color drained with the blood spilling from where a dagger was stuck through her throat. His dagger.
Aleksander cried out and stumbled back, but the snake-girl only grinned at him in amusement. That was wrong. She was never amused. She was too paranoid, too angry, too manipulative-
"You look confused." It was a statement. When the teenager gave no response, the elder man sighed. "Why are آپ confused, Leon?" Michel inquired patiently.
"I haven't the faintest idea what is happening," Aleksander replied. His voice sounded younger in his ears. It was as vulnerable as he always felt around the immortal man. Michel shook his head and went to the window.
A sea breeze wafted through the tower, rustling the feathers of Michel's large, black wings. They arched over his shoulders and spilled almost to the floor. The feathers were so dark, but soft, like charcoal. Yet Aleksander knew that if he struck them with force, the کوٹ would automatically harden against the force, creating an indestructible shield.
"Is this what آپ fear?" Michel asked. His back was kept to the other male, but Aleksander could guess that the guardian's eyes were as hard and dark as his wings, even in the light of the setting sun. "You fear I am going to die, like your mother and your friends?"
"Are you?" The words stuck in his throat, but the young man forced them out. The answer was a shrug.
"If I do, I'll come back. I always do."
"You have to leave before آپ can come back." Aleksander felt like his voice was shrinking. "You cannot leave me again, Michel. It isn't fair. آپ promised. آپ promised my mother that آپ would look after me, then آپ vowed to me that آپ would stay with me."
"Only until آپ were ready."
"I'm not ready," he almost cried. "I cannot face him, not alone. It was easier pretending my father was dead, but we both know he is alive."
"Why are آپ afraid?"
"He will come back. I will be alone, I won't be able to fight him. My father, he'll take me."
"Why are آپ afraid?"
"I'll have to go with him, Michel. Please, don't let me turn into him. آپ promised I would be dead before that happened. Will آپ kill me? Please, it would be better than becoming a monster like him!"
"Why are آپ afraid?" Michel asked a third time. His wings were spread wide, flapping lightly as he rose and fell gently. He was hover just beyond the cliff, out of reach, and strong hands were holding Aleksander back. They were bigger than him, strong adults, and he was only a child. Struggling against the strong hands gripping his arms proved useless. A row of men stood with their backs to the child, each with a machine gun aimed at Michel.
"Do not be afraid, Leon," Michel told him. His lips mouth silently, "Run."
"MICHEL!" the child screamed as the firing squad opened آگ کے, آگ on the winged man. He took off, evading them, distracting them. Aleksander wrenched free of the hold, his captors caught up in he confusion, and he turned and ran. It was too foggy to see moe than a foot in front of him. The tears in his eyes made his vision بادل even further. The roaring of gunfire and shouting was in his ears, the muddy earth slippery beneath his bare feet. Even as he ran, slipping and sliding in the mud, he knew that he would never be free of the fear of becoming his father-
"MICHEL!" The name was out of his mouth before he realized it. Aleksander shouted into the darkness of the room- of the apartment in Gotham- in New York- that he shared with his girlfriend- of two years.
"Alek, what's wrong?" Tara muttered from where she was buried in the covers. But the young man couldn't answer, because he was afraid.
Civvies
~If I catch this, we'll make it to the championship games...~
