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Freedom comes at a price
Apr. 6th, 2019 04:16 pmSilence fills the gorge.
No more voices, no more visions. For the first time since the mines of Blackwood Mountain, there is blessed silence. No more whispers on the edge of his conscious, asking him to do unspeakable things. Joshua understands now. That wasn't him. Something else has been here, all this time. Clinging on to him like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. Using his anguish over his baby sisters' deaths and his own mental illness against him. Something that's been held at bay.
Until now.
There are no more voices, but Joshua understands. Is he even really still Joshua Washington? It's inside now. It--he--has been lingering for so long wasting away to nothing for years. He's so weak. Hannah was so good. She fed when she was hungry. She knew how to survive, but her brother...so long he's been dying. Lingering for the hope of just one meal. Just one scrap. Just one taste. There's a whole forest full of prey. Circulatory systems pumping lifeblood through muscle tissue moving skeletons full of marrow.
He understands now. Hunger. Broken bones push against the ice. Joshua hisses with the pain. Makes it as far as turning himself over onto his side to look back up at Reynard, but the winter spirit is gone. No. A cruel joke, to be left alone now of all times. But Winter wouldn't be so cruel to the soul(s) he's taken pity on. It's close by. Where Reynard got them from Joshua doesn't know but he doesn't rightly care. The last thing he needs. He can smell it. So hungry. Not fresh, not ideal. Not important right now. Blood smears the snow inch by painful inch while he drags himself up and out, green eyes wide when he spies his prize.
The healing takes time, but not long. Winter holds his hand all the while. Its gift sustains him throughout the change. He needs to be able to hunt for himself. Joshua understands now. It's not monstrous to want to survive. The sick cruel complicated world boiled down to a simple truth. Sate the hunger. Perhaps later, there will be time for introspection. Time to define who and what he is. Time to take in what he's done. What's happened to him. Right now, with this blessed silence...with this freedom. There is no struggle. No guilt. No despair over things that could never be changed.
There is only hunger.
That's a problem he knows how to solve.
No more voices, no more visions. For the first time since the mines of Blackwood Mountain, there is blessed silence. No more whispers on the edge of his conscious, asking him to do unspeakable things. Joshua understands now. That wasn't him. Something else has been here, all this time. Clinging on to him like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. Using his anguish over his baby sisters' deaths and his own mental illness against him. Something that's been held at bay.
Until now.
There are no more voices, but Joshua understands. Is he even really still Joshua Washington? It's inside now. It--he--has been lingering for so long wasting away to nothing for years. He's so weak. Hannah was so good. She fed when she was hungry. She knew how to survive, but her brother...so long he's been dying. Lingering for the hope of just one meal. Just one scrap. Just one taste. There's a whole forest full of prey. Circulatory systems pumping lifeblood through muscle tissue moving skeletons full of marrow.
He understands now. Hunger. Broken bones push against the ice. Joshua hisses with the pain. Makes it as far as turning himself over onto his side to look back up at Reynard, but the winter spirit is gone. No. A cruel joke, to be left alone now of all times. But Winter wouldn't be so cruel to the soul(s) he's taken pity on. It's close by. Where Reynard got them from Joshua doesn't know but he doesn't rightly care. The last thing he needs. He can smell it. So hungry. Not fresh, not ideal. Not important right now. Blood smears the snow inch by painful inch while he drags himself up and out, green eyes wide when he spies his prize.
The healing takes time, but not long. Winter holds his hand all the while. Its gift sustains him throughout the change. He needs to be able to hunt for himself. Joshua understands now. It's not monstrous to want to survive. The sick cruel complicated world boiled down to a simple truth. Sate the hunger. Perhaps later, there will be time for introspection. Time to define who and what he is. Time to take in what he's done. What's happened to him. Right now, with this blessed silence...with this freedom. There is no struggle. No guilt. No despair over things that could never be changed.
There is only hunger.
That's a problem he knows how to solve.
