Rain pattered on the roughly cobbled streets, darkening the stone into a much deeper hue. Nearly black, like the sky. Like-
"My blood is black, you know?" The phrase that made him. A fact in the madness, blacker than black blood. The swish of ripped fabric, and claws, barley audible in the night. "There's no where to run…"
"What're you muttering about now!" The screeching demand barely broke through haze of insanity, but it broke it. The thin boy screamed and wilted as he tried to stay afloat. Left, foreword, parry, swing. The demon sword must live up to it's name.
"Right, left! Your other right, idiot!" The end of the command lengthened into a cruel screech resonance. A cacophony of grinding, crashing, screeching sound that only grew louder as the wound was healed and the other monster dispatched.
Monster, monster, they're monsters, I don't know how to deal- what's a monster, monster's are bad, nobody likes monsters, monsters kill and eat, eat, I'm a monster, monster is me because my blood is black, black, black- Stay with me!
"I don't know how to deal with directions! How do I deal with it!" They both would scream. Kill it. Eat it. Then it would go away and they would be alone again and that was good.
"We gotta get out of here!" But, Lady Medusa said and would be mad, so we have to eat first because that's what she said and I won't know how to deal- "Who cares! We ain't dieing here!"
Chrona was seven. He didn't know how to deal with any of it.
But, as another knife flashed toward his unprotected side and was blocked by a needle of hardened obsidian, even as he flinched away in fear, nothing wavered. He was okay, because someone else was there now and he knew how to deal with it and he was gonna tell Chrona how some day.
He promised. So Chrona had to deal until then.
