Okay, no idea where this came from. Frankly, it's quite depressing and though I don't like writing a big thesis, depressed isn't how I'd describe my mood. Subconscious, what did you do?
Ahem. Never mind.
Hope you'll enjoy and let me know what you think.
Fire.
Smoke.
Pain, as something precious was torn away over and over again.
Darkness.
Where was he?
There was still pain. Something still burned. But it was distant, like a lingering nightmare.
He... was awake?
So dark.
Like being in the middle of nowhere during a heavy rainstorm on a moonless night. No sight, no scent, no hearing. All just... jumbled. Unintelligible.
What happened?
He remembered brightness. Yellow and orange and red. Pain too. And... smoke?
A fire? Yes, there had been a fire. And he... had been in it.
The den! Their house! They had been inside and... had burned.
But if he was remembering it now did that mean he was alive? Were the others?
Who had survived? He didn't know. Laura and Derek, they hadn't been home. But had they escaped the hunters unscathed? The hunters had set the house on fire. He remembered that. Their cheers when his family couldn't help but howl in agony.
He remembered realizing that there was no way out. He remembered fear, and grief, and rage. He remembered children losing consciousness and how bad it had hurt to see the young ones still and motionless instead of the headache-inducing hyper activity they usually expressed. He remembered hiding the unconscious ones in places he hoped the fire wouldn't reach. Hoping maybe some would live...
But who had?
Laura? Derek? Others?
He didn't know.
He couldn't feel them.
If any had they weren't here.
Why?
Had they fled?
Had they died?
… Had they left him behind?
No! He was Family! Pack! They wouldn't leave him! Pack didn't do that!
Inside him his wolf howled, trying to call their family, their pack, to come. Hoping to hear an answer, so he knew they were still there...
Silence.
The bonds were still. Lifeless, as if cut.
In the darkness his wolf keened with grief.
He was alone.
XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX
He didn't know how long he'd sat in the dark, head bowed and eyes trained on the bonds, hoping for a twitch, a flare of activity, something that indicated that he was not the last one left.
There was nothing. But he wasn't giving up hope. He would never give up on his pack.
Outside of wherever he was trapped he could feel the moon wax and wane, each full moon pulling, pulling,but the darkness would not let him go.
If one of the bonds had reacted as well then maybe, together, the moon and the bond would have been able to pull him out of the darkness. He probably would be free then.
But the bonds were limp and lifeless like pieces of twine. He was left with nothing but his memories.
XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX
Burned, burned, burned, stench of his own burning flesh in his nose. Talia, where are you? You're Alfa, you can use our strength, can't you get out?
More burning flesh, like a horrid, macabre barbecue gone wrong. They used to love barbecue, but Peter would never be able to stand it again. Burning sister, burning uncles and aunts, burning nieces and nephews- Everyone burned, and he burned with them.
Over the crackles of flames, on the edge of his hearing there was-
Laughter. Outside.
Why?! What did we ever do to you?!
God, the pain. From his flesh, from his pack- from the bonds searing away with each life lost.
Torture, as more and more lives snuffed out, slipping into the void to escape the agony of being burned alive. God, how could they watch this, enjoy this, and still call themselves human?
Darkness swallowed him, and Peter was relieved. Maybe he was finally allowed to follow his pack, to go where they were and no longer be alone.
But the darkness didn't recede.
… Nightmare?
In the darkness, his wolf howled. Peter was getting used to it.
Is it really a nightmare, when you never wake from it?
XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX
Another moon pulling. How many had it been? How long since he last ran with his pack, wind in his fur and dirt beneath his paws, howling to the moon to tell the world this land was theirs? How long since he last felt the touch of kin, the warmth of :together:, of :run-hide-play!:, of :not alone:?
Too long. He was forgetting what normal warmth felt like. It was slow, creeping like the ghostly fog rising from the ground at night, but it was steady and didn't stop. Nowadays he was either too cold from being alone, or burning. Neither was pleasant, though he preferred the cold over the memory-sensations of fire.
All he knew is that it had been many moons since the fire. Not once had the bonds sparked to life. He was starting to believe they never would.
XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX
Again the memories. Burning, burning, until he threw himself into the abyss of oblivion, wanting to just get it over with. The darkness had become a relieve, a respite. A save haven, for all that it was a prison as well.
Curled up in the darkness, crying in pain and not caring about the noise since there was no one to hear his breakdown anyway, Peter tried to shake off the last lingering shreds of the might-be nightmare. He still wasn't sure if he could actually sleep in here.
He almost didn't notice the dim glow coming from the bonds. It was only luck that he looked that way. He already accepted he was the last.
But the glow belied that.
For a moment he remained frozen, not daring to give in to hope. But then he shot forward, forming a cup with his hands around the tattered remains as if they were fragile as butterflies, and tried to call, to let his family know he was here.
Laura and Derek. Derek and Laura. They had survived! They had escaped the hunters! And now they were here to get him, to bring him home-
… Why was the glow fading?
No! No, it couldn't be! No, no, no, they couldn't leave! There wasn't a moon, the bonds weren't strong enough to pull him out, why were they leaving?!
Stone-faced, Peter watched the glow slowly fade. Disbelief turned his heart into unforgiving granite, refusing to believe his family would move out of range again without even coming close enough to rebuild the bond. All it required was touch, why hadn't they come closer?
Motions stiff, as if he had aged a hundred years in mere seconds but refused to admit it, Peter settled into his old vigil, eyes trained on the once again lifeless bonds.
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They didn't glow again.
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Enough moons had passed to tell Peter it had been several years. Several years since Laura and Derek, his pack, had been near. Years of nightmares, of calling, of pleading them to return.
They hadn't.
They had abandoned him.
He still didn't want to believe it, but after so long without them coming for him he knew they had.
So.
That's how it is.
His wolf howled for lives lost, for the pack he once had, one last time.
The final time.
So that's how it is.
After this, he would burn the bonds himself. The last bonds between him and his past.
No. Not the last.
Ah, that's right. His pack was gone. Lost, scattered to the winds. No longer his.
But there was still one thing left to do.
His wolf returned to his side, curling up around him. Their eyes burned with the glow of long extinguished fires, the fires that had taken their pack from them.
They remembered laughter outside.
Their lips curled, baring fangs.
They will pay.
XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX
Somewhere in a dark room, alone and scarred, eyes burning like blue flames opened.
They will pay!