Challenge: "Welcome to a city that'll bring you to your knees, it'll make you beg for more 'til you can't even breathe..."

Alicante was burning.

And this time, there wasn't anyone there to stop the fires. Not that a measly Shadowhunter was capable. A Greater Demon itself had weaved a barrier out of demonic magic around the city, keeping everyone trapped inside. Nothing could penetrate it, not even a Warlock.

Jace glanced blankly at himself, taking in his soot-covered clothes and tattered shoes. His shirt was torn in several places, and scores of burns ran up and down his body, leaving his flesh an angry red. Ignoring his charred skin and the forming blisters, he trained his eyes on the city, watching as Shadowshunters threw themselves at the barrier, trying to break through before they could be burned alive.

His legs were crossed as he sat about half a mile away from the brightly-lit city. The hill he sat upon gave him a lovely view of it all—he could see most everything. The mothers hopelessly trying to save their children, the men trying to put out the flames.

Maybe, if he didn't look at it, he wouldn't feel so—

Instantly, Jace's head was wrenched back towards the growing fires, and he cursed himself for looking away. The flames looked like beautiful orange goddesses—dancing and laughing through the city, destroying everything in their path. The smell of burning flesh arose out of the smoke, swirling around the once beautiful city.

No, it was still beautiful. Even burning, the city was like no other.

Jace was enjoying this. His lips curled in a satisfied snarl, the screams of the citizens and the smell of them roasting alive sent tiny jolts of pleasure throughout his whole body. He relished in their pain and suffering.

All of a sudden, one single cry broke through the loud noise of fire and obliteration. It was a baby, and Jace realized that the child had just had a little lick from the flames. The cry started to shudder; its shrieking only growing louder. But it only took a few more seconds for it to stop. A smile appeared on his lips and he shuddered himself. So pleasurable.

I judged you wrong, brother. You're no different than father and I. It feels wonderful, doesn't? Doesn't it feel wonderful to get revenge on those bastards? They deserve it all. In fact, I think they deserve worse.

A dark laugh started to resonate through him, a laugh that combined his brother's and father's madness with his own. He wouldn't stop at Alicante. No, all of Idris must be—

His hands feverishly looked for a place to grab, settling on Jace's soft, golden hair. They pulled and pulled and pulled until clumps of his hair tangled with his long fingers. Jonathan's presence loomed over his mind, and this painful presence was multiplied when he spoke in his head. An animalistic screech was ripped from his body, and he cupped the top of his head with one hand, trying to keep it from exploding. He squeezed and squeezed, he squeezed—

Gasping, he heard something else and his hands fell by his side in surprise, sweat sliding down his neck. No, he didn't hear it…he felt it. A small drop that wasn't consuming him. A part of him that wasn't controlling him. That wasn't hurting him.

It's not you, it's Jonathan. If you'd only beli-

Something, or rather, someone, had quickly snuffed out the feeling with hatred that now resided within him. But those few words were all he needed to remember that Jonathan was there. He was there.

Everywhere.

His shocked limbs began to move again, and his eyes were forced back towards the flames. He could almost feel his brother clutching his will and molding until he was satisfied. Until he molded it to something that was an exact copy of his. Jace slowly watched the monstrous flames as they devoured his home and everyone in it.

You did this.

And it was your marvelous idea.

You killed them. You're killing them.

You're burning them alive.

Your precious city and all its Shadowhunters are gone. Are going to be gone. Forever.

Now…smile for me, brother. I know you're enjoying this just as much as I am.

With Jonathan overpowering him, he had no choice but to gaze at the chaos and death he bestowed upon those he loved. Most of him still loved it—the death, the fire, the revenge—the shrieks and screams. The demolition.

He loved it. He fucking loved it.

For hours, he watched the scene unravel, giggling at it all. He could feel his brother with him, there in his mind, congratulating him, comforting him. Here they were, two brothers relishing in each other's presence, taking pleasure in the show.

Barely aware of its presence, he felt that feeling from before, amidst his jumbled thoughts. He realized it was the last drop of his former self. It was all that was left of his Jonathan-controlled carcass.

It was there for just a second.

And it said just one thing.

Clary would have forgiven you, even though you don't deserve it.

And he never heard from it again.

Written for the monthly one-shot at The Towers of Alicante.

Oh God.

This sucked :B

/shot