In the Dark of the Night
Written by Kiriona
The night was dark and it was difficult to make out your hand in front of your face and the light mist on the ground made travel near impossible that particular night. But when a man faces his own death, he finds the impossible much less of a barrier.
The Prince of Persia ran as fast as his muscular legs would carry him through the dark misty streets of the city. His breath came in rapid huffs, the air supply in his lungs nearly exhausted. His body all but begged him for rest and his heart was pounding so hard and fast it was ready to burst in his chest. But he didn't stop. He kept running, despite his fatigue, despite his need for food, water and rest. He couldn't stop… if he did, it would mean his death.
The dark beast in hot pursuit of him let out another fierce roar, letting the Prince know that he wasn't gaining much ground over the monster. But he wasn't losing any either. He would have to take to the rooftops if he would have any chance at all losing the Dahaka.
His mind working purely on the adrenaline pumping through his system, he jumped onto a nearby ledge, pulled himself up, then jumped across onto the roofs. He was successful in gaining distance, but only a few split seconds. Wasting no time at all, the chase continued on, the Prince skillfully leaping from rooftop to rooftop, dodging the tendril that the Dahaka unleashed in a furious attempt at seizing its prey.
When the rooftop suddenly ended, the Prince had less that a second to decide his next course of action. One thing was certain: if he tripped up, it would mean his demise. But he was an old cat at this, and he still had a few lives left in him. He haphazardly landed on his feet on the cobblestone streets, just barely able to absorb the shock from the fall. But he had no time to recover. He forced his legs into motion immediately after his feet hit the ground and ran for his life.
The chase continued deep into the alleyways of the city. The Prince knew he couldn't keep running forever… the ignored cried from his body were beginning to catch up to him now. He was starting to slow, and no matter how hard he pushed his legs to move, they just refused to operate at top speed any longer. His muscles were all screaming out, making his a thousand promises of pain to come later, even after he'd rested.
It didn't help that he was beginning to feel lightheaded and dizzy and the streets were beginning to blur together. It didn't help that his body was rebelling. It didn't help that the alleyways had no means of getting to the roofs, and it certainly didn't help that he was starting to wonder if all those past years on the run, trying his hardest to stay alive, existing as extra baggage in the timeline that shouldn't be there had finally caught up to him.
Finally, the worst happened. His body, fatigued to the point of passing out, refused to go any farther. Even though his mind was shouting at the top of it's lungs at him to get up and run his ass off, he could no longer find the strength and energy to continue.
Well, maybe he was tired of running, but like hell he was going down without a fight! As the Dahaka closed in, it's colorless eyes staring hungrily at its fallen victim, the Prince growled, drew his sword and got into the best defensive stance he could. The Dahaka stood, looming over him and let out a low rumbling noise. Almost like… laughter. It was laughing at him. Laughing at his futile attempt of staying alive.
The Prince narrowed his eyes dangerously and growled in the back of his throat, but he knew whatever defense he tried to put up wouldn't do him any bit of good. The demon only confirmed this as his snatched the Prince's ankle and hoisted him in the air. His sword fell from his hands and clattered on the ground out of his reach and the man could do nothing for hang there like a dead fish and wait for fate to catch up to him.
So this was it. This was how the great Persian Prince met his doom. In a dark ally, in the dead of the night, at the hands of a grotesque demon as no more than a nameless, faceless nobody. He'd never see the light of day again. He'd never see his father again. He's never even see his own beautiful kingdom again. This was it. This was finally it. His death was staring him in the face and quite frankly, the Prince just stared back, letting go of all his hopes and dreams, of all his regrets and accepted the fact that he was going to die. He could only hope it would be quick…
But suddenly…
"JUNIOR!" A deep, sort of hoarse voice rang through the ally. The Dahaka seemed to stop dead and cringe slightly. "Junior! There you are! Where in the world have you been, your father and I were so worried about you!" Still cringing, the Dahaka turned around. The Prince couldn't see much around the monster's hulking frame, but what he did see was… another Dahaka… wearing a white apron… holding a ladle…. The Dahaka responded, "Aw, but MOOOOM! I was just having FUN!"
"Well, it's way past your bedtime, young man! Come along, tell your friend that you'll come play tomorrow." Seemingly disappointed and disheartened, the Dahaka released the Prince's leg and let his fall on the ground.
"Sorry, Prince, but I gotta go…" the beast said regretfully. "We'll play some more tomorrow."
"Come along, Junior." With that, the two Dahakas left. The Prince only sat there blinking, only one though running through his mind.
"I don't know what I just witnessed," he said to himself, "but something tells me that it was very wrong.