Candles
by Mrs Chang
Warnings: Death, Angst, etc
Pairings: ???
Disclaimer: The author does not own GW, nor any characters therein. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, and no money is being made from it or its publication.
Author's Notes: ::blinks:: Where did *this* come from? A really morbid mini-fic. Enjoy.
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Darkness is pierced by the brilliant light of a match being struck. The small light illuminates the face of the one who holds the match, a face lined in grief and self-hate. The match meets the wick of a candle set before the initiator of this macabre ritual. The wick ignites, the light glows; its orange-ish flame eerie in the dark silence. It is a single light in the vast darkness both surrounding and filling the occupant of the room.
The light of the white candle, almost mocking in its liveliness and vitality, is soon joined by another. This second flame's bearer is a candle of the deepest black. The illumination has grown stronger with this addition, but still the room is cloaked by a dismal and oppressive darkness.
Yet another candle is lit, this one a deep, emerald green. The light is intensified again, and though the dancing flames give light to the darkened room, the soul of this man is as darkly wounded as ever.
A final candle is lit, this one a brilliant, crimson red. Reflecting the light as it falls, a single tear traces its way down the cheek of the mourner. His dark eyes glimmer with more tears waiting to be shed as he focuses on the candles before him. To each one, a purpose; each color, a meaning.
White, for purity. A pure soul lost to the darkness and hatred of this world.
Black, for the eyes of the one this man loved and lost.
Green, for the grassy field where she died.
And, finally, red, for the blood about to be spilled.
With a single gust of breath, all four candles are extinguished. A movement in the darkness, and a soft 'click' is heard.
And then an ear-shattering 'bang' and then silence, save the sound of now-labored breathing.
The scent of smoke from the burnt candles is joined by another aroma, once animalistic and the slightest bit metalic in nature.
Between painful gasps of breath, a voice rasps into the darkness, "An eye for an eye, a life for a life."
A moments pause, and then, "Forgive me, beloved."
The rasping breaths slow, and then stop.
And silence, ever cold and fatalistic, fills the room once more.
~OWARI~
by Mrs Chang
Warnings: Death, Angst, etc
Pairings: ???
Disclaimer: The author does not own GW, nor any characters therein. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, and no money is being made from it or its publication.
Author's Notes: ::blinks:: Where did *this* come from? A really morbid mini-fic. Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Darkness is pierced by the brilliant light of a match being struck. The small light illuminates the face of the one who holds the match, a face lined in grief and self-hate. The match meets the wick of a candle set before the initiator of this macabre ritual. The wick ignites, the light glows; its orange-ish flame eerie in the dark silence. It is a single light in the vast darkness both surrounding and filling the occupant of the room.
The light of the white candle, almost mocking in its liveliness and vitality, is soon joined by another. This second flame's bearer is a candle of the deepest black. The illumination has grown stronger with this addition, but still the room is cloaked by a dismal and oppressive darkness.
Yet another candle is lit, this one a deep, emerald green. The light is intensified again, and though the dancing flames give light to the darkened room, the soul of this man is as darkly wounded as ever.
A final candle is lit, this one a brilliant, crimson red. Reflecting the light as it falls, a single tear traces its way down the cheek of the mourner. His dark eyes glimmer with more tears waiting to be shed as he focuses on the candles before him. To each one, a purpose; each color, a meaning.
White, for purity. A pure soul lost to the darkness and hatred of this world.
Black, for the eyes of the one this man loved and lost.
Green, for the grassy field where she died.
And, finally, red, for the blood about to be spilled.
With a single gust of breath, all four candles are extinguished. A movement in the darkness, and a soft 'click' is heard.
And then an ear-shattering 'bang' and then silence, save the sound of now-labored breathing.
The scent of smoke from the burnt candles is joined by another aroma, once animalistic and the slightest bit metalic in nature.
Between painful gasps of breath, a voice rasps into the darkness, "An eye for an eye, a life for a life."
A moments pause, and then, "Forgive me, beloved."
The rasping breaths slow, and then stop.
And silence, ever cold and fatalistic, fills the room once more.
~OWARI~