A/N - I don't own anything other than my OC's and the plot. This short story may be a bit difficult to follow since the plot starts out in the middle of everything. Read and comment if you want, flames will be used to power up the furnace of my mecha-ship.
Sickening
"Did you know that ravens were thought to be symbols of death?" I asked as I walked towards Mine in my new form, the long-beaked skull mask perched on the side of my head with thin cracks running through the bleached bone, my hands morphed into onyx claws tapered off into five deadly points, resembling armor that faded into the black feathers reaching my elbows. I tapped one of my newly transformed fingers on the bone, three clicks that seemed to resound forebodingly throughout the battlefield occupied by only he and I. "It's quite the fitting attire, no?" My feet, equally armored but only with three talons protruding outwards and one behind, providing balance to my form, paused, the click of stone brought to a halt. I knew he wouldn't answer, or more like, he couldn't. It was far too long a battle that worn me out both physically and mentally, but I've finally gained the upper hand. "You lost, Mine. And the legacy you've always hoped for will die along with you" I stretched out my non-injured wing into the sky, slick feathers straining as light was absorbed within it's inky depths, creating a shadow that consumed Mine's kneeling form, body screaming to move, to react, but nothing would obey him. He only watched in horror at the sight of what could only be described as a vengeful figure wreathed in both light and dark, the blue scarf flapping to the side like a banner of some sort, matching those eyes that echoed the sea he longed to return to. I could see the fear in his eyes and for some strange reason, there was a sick feeling in my gut. I was briefly reminded of the little boy who used to carry me on my back while I was sickly and would always, without fail, go to the ocean, knowing the the smell of the sea would calm my violent fevers. I remembered the smiles, the stories, and the promises of going out to become a great pirate hunter. I remembered everything and it came back like a tidal wave of sorrow and guilt.
I didn't hesistate in striking his still form, straightening my fingers into a point and tearing it through his neck in one, fluid motion.
'Goodnight, Mine'