Jace's account of what happened before he came to live with the Lightwoods.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters
Jace stood frozen and more scared than he had ever been in his life. The fear paralyzed him as he stared through the crack in the doors. The pure confusion of disbelief controlled his brain as he waited. He could feel his hands shaking and he was so scared they would make too much noise. If he made noise the men would come back. They would come back and they would find him. He grabbed his pant legs and squeezed as hard as he could to try to stop the shaking as he leaned against the smooth wall behind him.
He stared through the doors at the mangled body of his father. He stared at the bravest man he had ever known. He stared at the only family he had. He stared at his life as it lay dead in front of him. He couldn't move, he knew the men would come back for him. His mind seemed to comprehend that he was still in danger, but he couldn't control his body.
He watched as the blood slowly pooled and slithered across the floor to him. It was like an arrow pointing out his hiding spot to the killers. He was beginning to panic as the picture developed in his mind of the men coming back and killing him, leaving him bleeding next to his father, and the only family that hadn't abandoned him. And now he was gone. Jace could feel the blood beginning to seep into the toes of his shoes. Marking him for the men it was showing him to. And suddenly he didn't want to live anymore. He wanted to be with his father, because what could he possibly do now. He had no family, no friends, no father.
Unable to watch anymore he burst from the closet. He stopped when he stepped out. He could now see his father, unblocked in any way by the doors. He stood there and tried to blink the scene away, he tried to wake himself up from the horrible nightmare.
He inched toward the body of his father, so slowly, afraid to touch him, and confirm he was... He slid his feet forward across the smooth floor. He inched across their beautiful design, now obscured by blood, toward his father. As he got closer he could see the runes on his skin. He could see the blood still slowly running out. He bent to his knees and slowly extended his hand toward his father. He was afraid that his father would get mad at him for touching him. His eyes filled with tears of sadness and fear. They were falling down his face, but he tried to stop them. His father never wanted him to show weakness. He wouldn't be caught crying. But the tears wouldn't stop and he knew he should be frustrated, but the terror was taking up all the room inside of him. His hand landed on his father's arm. he could feel the thick leather of his hunting gear. He held it there, tears streaming down his face.
"Father" he choked out, less than a whisper, "Father, please" he begged. He raised his hand to his shoulder and gently shook it, unable to see what he was doing through the tears.
He sat back on his ankles and stared at his father. The helplessness sinking in. "No, no, no, Father please, oh no." he whispered over and over as the situation sunk in. But he could only sit there, praying to the god his father swore by, praying to the heavens, praying to the mother that abandoned him. How could she have left him. Now he had no parents, no help, no home. He sat and cried as his life crumbled around him.
Jace didn't know how long he had sat there but his tears had long run dry. He felt numb and still that sense of bewilderment. He couldn't believe this was happening.
A noise sounded behind him from outside. He jumped and spun fear choking him. Another crash sounded and Jace flew to his feet the instinct to hide overpowering. His eyes darted around trying to decide where to go. He knew he couldn't go back to the closet, not after the blood had pointed him out. He took a step toward the stairs. He figured if he could make it upstairs he could hide in one of the rooms there. But as he stepped he smeared the blood and it stuck to the bottom of his shoe and showed all of his footprints. Panicked and unable to escape the tears started again.
Completely at a loss of what to do he collapsed next to his father and grabbed his arm staring toward the front door. He begged his father again to come back, to help him, to save him. But he wasn't coming back, and he was beyond helping him. Jace suddenly remembered all that his father had taught him. Bravery in the face of death, courage when fear sets in, determination to finish the task. He squared his shoulders as he sat and waited for whatever horror was coming through the door to arrive so he could face it and show that he was ready. He would die fighting as his father had. He would stay and fight as all honorable shadowhunters did.
The door opened and the light of a beautiful Idris day flooded into the foyer. He couldn't see who was coming through the door, but he hoped it was one of the men. The person had frozen on the threshold. Jace still could not see who it was as they were back lit, but he wanted them to come in, he wanted them to kill him soon. He wanted to join his father, he wanted to be rid of this nightmare.
The man slowly stepped forward, faltered and then came forward again, faster this time. As he left the door Jace recognized him as one of the servants who lived at the manor with them. Seeing that it was not one of the murders he felt the tears come back as the servant made his way toward him and his father. He held unto his father's arm as the man approached. He was saying something but Jace's ears were ringing and blocked out the noise. He was only aware of how pale his father looked in the sunlight and how the breeze flung the cooper scent of blood into his nose.
He stared past the man out the open doorway. The clear blue sky held no hint of a storm. He could see the flowers in the field blowing in a cool breeze. He could see birds swooping low over the flowers. It was the picture of life, and happiness. He had so expected the world outside his home to be gray, smoking and destroyed. How could anything good still exist. Why was he the only thing that was ruined. Where was the fire and brimstone, surely this was hell. Where were the avenging angels, for surely this was judgment day.
A woman entered the door, obscuring his view of the perfect scene outside. Her hand flew to her mouth. Jace saw her spin and yell out the door, but he couldn't hear what she were saying. He felt like he was watching this through a window, not experiencing it. The woman hurried to his side. He could feel her trying to loosen his grip. But he wouldn't let go. He couldn't leave his father, he couldn't leave his old life dead on the floor of the cold marble foyer.
Suddenly his hearing came back, the window was shattered and the illusion gone. He was there, thoroughly living this. He was sure he was in hell. He had read enough Dante to know. The blood, the red, the fear, the loss, the screams, the pain. There was no escaping this, because there was no escape from hell.
He could hear the woman pleading with him, trying to take him away. The man was helping her. He lifted Jace off the floor and was telling him it was ok. He was the devil taking him away from his life, away to his eternal doom. But Jace didn't fight back. He was numb and he couldn't muster up the fight he had found when the door had opened. It had all been lost to the outside, to the perfect world. The one so out of reach for him now. As the man carried him up the stairs he had considered fleeing up he saw two more of the servants come through, and the last one shut the large heavy doors. It shut out the sunlight plunging him into darkness. It shut out the beautiful scene outside. It left him scared and quivering in the arms of a man in a house smeared with blood. It locked him in hell.
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