Post by GREY MADDOX on Apr 15, 2024 21:09:07 GMT
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
It was always the same fucking song. Like a drunk who could only remember one line it would repeat and repeat, belched out of the record player in a corner of the garage. Malcolm had never sung along with it, but occasionally he’d hum, the sound a soft warning that he was more detached than usual. God, he knew better than to walk in then. Those frosty eyes would snap up to meet his, his expression twisting, all the better to frame the snarl that would come from him as though he’d been the wolf and not the woman he’d shacked up with.
Grey stood on the threshold of the dark room, squinting into its thick pools of shadow at the figure moving around in the distance. Moving to the music. A foot tapping with a quiet little thud, thud, thud, its head bobbing. A skinny figure that should’ve snapped like a twig instead of writhing and fighting back. He slipped a hand into his pocket as he stepped in. The wire curled around his fingers as though it wanted to wrap itself around his throat and taste blood. Did dead men bleed? Probably not, but he hadn’t died, had he?
Stepping into the room, Grey drew out the wire. It only let out a small hiss of metal on metal, but the druid twitched all the same. The music shifted as he did. Thump, thump, thump. The screech of the needle over the skipping record. A louder screech that was pure protest…
Snapping awake, Grey burrowed a hand under the covers to find Flower and silence the complaints before she started stomping hard enough in the bed to wake Destiny up. She continued to make small noises, but cut off as Berlioz’s head thrust between the two of them. ”Don’t wake her up,” he whispered to the animals. If he wasn’t quick then something else would do it instead, he realised as another tap came at the bedroom window.
A quick checked showed him that Destiny was still out of it. He pressed a kiss lightly to her shoulder before he slipped out of bed. In the pitch dark of their bedroom he padded across to the window. Thankfully the sky was still free of the pearly glow of dawn, but there was still enough moonlight that he could see the furry little body sitting on the sill. He slid it open, holding a hand out to the squirrel. With it clinging on, he lifted it high enough to look into those beady black eyes. Like sliding into water, he immediately dipped into its mind, catching an impression of a tall figure scattering the dark dust of what he was sure was mountain ash around the edges of a room. A barrier of protection, like it would keep him out.
”Where?” Grey asked hoarsely, his frown deepening as a furry little fist jabbed towards the woods, out beyond the hotel, maybe in the sprawl of residential streets that eventually petered out towards the woods. Enough maybe for him to track again, the same way he had when he’d killed that son of a bitch. That chill started gathering in his gut again, a freeze knot that threatened to swallow him whole. For months it had felt like this wasn’t over, and now it seemed like he finally had proof. Destiny had been right, the sacrifices hadn’t been enough to keep this at bay. He should’ve trusted her, should’ve spent those months throwing himself into the sacrifices like she’d wanted to, instead of slowly chipping away at them.
You failed your son. You thought you were so much better than me, but look at you. Couldn’t even kill a druid. Like he’d risen from the dead along with the druid, Malcolm’s voice rolled out of the dark behind him. A low mocking chuckle leaving him twitching. ”Go keep watch, I’ll catch up,” he ordered the squirrel. It chittered again before it bolted back out of the window.
He slid the window shut and glanced back at the bed. Everything he’d done had been to protect Destiny and Petyr, too many times he’d failed. Malcolm was right, he’d been a fool, thinking he could end it all that easily. He wasn’t about to fuck it up a third time. If the kid was out there, he’d die this time. Torn into tiny pieces, scattered across the entire state, there’d be no way for Leah to bring him back. It had to have been her, rubbing another failure in his face.
Silently, he padded across the room, easing open the doors to the walk-in. He slipped into jeans, a dark top. The kit was still bundled in the duffel on the top shelf of the closet. Grey’s jaw flexed as he reached up for it, clutching it to his chest as he heard the covers on the bed shift. He could see the three of them in the thin wash of moonlight that crept through the curtain he’d left half open. The dark of the closet probably half hid him from view, but Destiny knew exactly where he was.
Walking out, he set the bag on the floor just outside the closet door, hoping she hadn’t seen it. ”Hey, go back to sleep. There’s no point in both of us being up,” he whispered soft. Grey dipped his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. ”I’m just gonna pop downstairs, make sure everything’s alright.” As though he was just restless, instead of twitching like a livewire. His brain was throwing up images of the druid as he’d left him like sparks off of a firework, a warning of an explosion that he couldn’t let burn their lives to the ground again.
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
It was always the same fucking song. Like a drunk who could only remember one line it would repeat and repeat, belched out of the record player in a corner of the garage. Malcolm had never sung along with it, but occasionally he’d hum, the sound a soft warning that he was more detached than usual. God, he knew better than to walk in then. Those frosty eyes would snap up to meet his, his expression twisting, all the better to frame the snarl that would come from him as though he’d been the wolf and not the woman he’d shacked up with.
Grey stood on the threshold of the dark room, squinting into its thick pools of shadow at the figure moving around in the distance. Moving to the music. A foot tapping with a quiet little thud, thud, thud, its head bobbing. A skinny figure that should’ve snapped like a twig instead of writhing and fighting back. He slipped a hand into his pocket as he stepped in. The wire curled around his fingers as though it wanted to wrap itself around his throat and taste blood. Did dead men bleed? Probably not, but he hadn’t died, had he?
Stepping into the room, Grey drew out the wire. It only let out a small hiss of metal on metal, but the druid twitched all the same. The music shifted as he did. Thump, thump, thump. The screech of the needle over the skipping record. A louder screech that was pure protest…
Snapping awake, Grey burrowed a hand under the covers to find Flower and silence the complaints before she started stomping hard enough in the bed to wake Destiny up. She continued to make small noises, but cut off as Berlioz’s head thrust between the two of them. ”Don’t wake her up,” he whispered to the animals. If he wasn’t quick then something else would do it instead, he realised as another tap came at the bedroom window.
A quick checked showed him that Destiny was still out of it. He pressed a kiss lightly to her shoulder before he slipped out of bed. In the pitch dark of their bedroom he padded across to the window. Thankfully the sky was still free of the pearly glow of dawn, but there was still enough moonlight that he could see the furry little body sitting on the sill. He slid it open, holding a hand out to the squirrel. With it clinging on, he lifted it high enough to look into those beady black eyes. Like sliding into water, he immediately dipped into its mind, catching an impression of a tall figure scattering the dark dust of what he was sure was mountain ash around the edges of a room. A barrier of protection, like it would keep him out.
”Where?” Grey asked hoarsely, his frown deepening as a furry little fist jabbed towards the woods, out beyond the hotel, maybe in the sprawl of residential streets that eventually petered out towards the woods. Enough maybe for him to track again, the same way he had when he’d killed that son of a bitch. That chill started gathering in his gut again, a freeze knot that threatened to swallow him whole. For months it had felt like this wasn’t over, and now it seemed like he finally had proof. Destiny had been right, the sacrifices hadn’t been enough to keep this at bay. He should’ve trusted her, should’ve spent those months throwing himself into the sacrifices like she’d wanted to, instead of slowly chipping away at them.
You failed your son. You thought you were so much better than me, but look at you. Couldn’t even kill a druid. Like he’d risen from the dead along with the druid, Malcolm’s voice rolled out of the dark behind him. A low mocking chuckle leaving him twitching. ”Go keep watch, I’ll catch up,” he ordered the squirrel. It chittered again before it bolted back out of the window.
He slid the window shut and glanced back at the bed. Everything he’d done had been to protect Destiny and Petyr, too many times he’d failed. Malcolm was right, he’d been a fool, thinking he could end it all that easily. He wasn’t about to fuck it up a third time. If the kid was out there, he’d die this time. Torn into tiny pieces, scattered across the entire state, there’d be no way for Leah to bring him back. It had to have been her, rubbing another failure in his face.
Silently, he padded across the room, easing open the doors to the walk-in. He slipped into jeans, a dark top. The kit was still bundled in the duffel on the top shelf of the closet. Grey’s jaw flexed as he reached up for it, clutching it to his chest as he heard the covers on the bed shift. He could see the three of them in the thin wash of moonlight that crept through the curtain he’d left half open. The dark of the closet probably half hid him from view, but Destiny knew exactly where he was.
Walking out, he set the bag on the floor just outside the closet door, hoping she hadn’t seen it. ”Hey, go back to sleep. There’s no point in both of us being up,” he whispered soft. Grey dipped his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. ”I’m just gonna pop downstairs, make sure everything’s alright.” As though he was just restless, instead of twitching like a livewire. His brain was throwing up images of the druid as he’d left him like sparks off of a firework, a warning of an explosion that he couldn’t let burn their lives to the ground again.