Midnight Garden
Chapter 8
by Kye
It's not nice to leave without telling. Even I know that. Why did my schuld leave, then? In the dark, he got up. Quiet, quiet. Like me, so quiet. But I can hear things that move quieter than I do. I heard him.
He didn't know. He stepped past, touched the door, kept it silent somehow when he opened. It didn't make noise when it shut, either. He told it not to make a noise, is what I guess. I can't tell things to be quiet like that. But my schuld can. He can make anything listen. He can catch anything and play with it like a puppet, a puppet with too many strings. He can control them all, though. Even with more strings than fingers, they are all his.
I followed my schuld, because he shouldn't have gone without saying. I followed behind, hidden in the shadow, and I was quieter than he was. He couldn't even hear what I was thinking, so quiet was I.
He was slower walking than when he hunted, because he was drinking the dark. I know, because I like to drink the dark, too. It's almost as good as blood. He tasted the dark, and followed the smell of other drinking things. I smiled because he was doing what the Tall One didn't want. No one did, usually. Do what the Tall One wanted. He hadn't power. That was ours. Mine. My schuld's. The dark-eyes boy's.
He, my schuld, went into the pub, full of lights, full of people, full of drinking. He smiled, and they thought it was for them. It wasn't, of course. Not for people who took up his mind. For the drinks, he smiled. Not for them. Never for them.
He drank until he tipped, like the people in pubs where I was before. But he had better reasons than they did. They were weak from weak trouble. My schuld had hard trouble, and the voices. He needed it, the drinking. It took the voices away. No one could say the voices were weak troubles. They were worse than anything weak.
He drank till he tipped, and then he left. He smiled still, and they still thought it was for them. Stupid people. Never understanding how wicked they were for what they did. For their loud, silly voices. He left, and I followed him in the shadow still. He opened the door, but this time not quiet as me. It was loud shutting. I was quiet. I came in after and I didn't make noise at all.
He went back to sleeping, sleeping on the sofa where the Tall One thought he should be. I went back to the end of it, and I didn't sleep. Because I was watching. I was listening, in case my schuld wanted to leave again. If he left again, I would leave too. Tipping schuld shouldn't be alone. So I watched and I listened, and I stayed awake. I heard him sleeping. My schuld didn't hear me at all.
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A.N. This is for the peeps (read: Piper) who begged for another farf POV. Considering that those people (read: Piper) are both bigger and scarier (don't hurt me for saying that...^^) than I am, I didn't want to argue. How d'you like? ^^ I'm still sorry for that long absence between 5 and 6, but I'm back, and back with a more-or-less plan. So despite the fact that the continuity and flow of this story are pretty much nonexistant and it is therefore getting on my nerves when not read as standalone chapters, I will GO ON and write it very much longer. I don't know how much longer, but look for at least...oh, I have no idea. I'll just say I wouldn't be shocked if it ended out longer than Changing Wyrds (Inuyasha, 14 chappies). Later, gators.
Chapter 8
by Kye
It's not nice to leave without telling. Even I know that. Why did my schuld leave, then? In the dark, he got up. Quiet, quiet. Like me, so quiet. But I can hear things that move quieter than I do. I heard him.
He didn't know. He stepped past, touched the door, kept it silent somehow when he opened. It didn't make noise when it shut, either. He told it not to make a noise, is what I guess. I can't tell things to be quiet like that. But my schuld can. He can make anything listen. He can catch anything and play with it like a puppet, a puppet with too many strings. He can control them all, though. Even with more strings than fingers, they are all his.
I followed my schuld, because he shouldn't have gone without saying. I followed behind, hidden in the shadow, and I was quieter than he was. He couldn't even hear what I was thinking, so quiet was I.
He was slower walking than when he hunted, because he was drinking the dark. I know, because I like to drink the dark, too. It's almost as good as blood. He tasted the dark, and followed the smell of other drinking things. I smiled because he was doing what the Tall One didn't want. No one did, usually. Do what the Tall One wanted. He hadn't power. That was ours. Mine. My schuld's. The dark-eyes boy's.
He, my schuld, went into the pub, full of lights, full of people, full of drinking. He smiled, and they thought it was for them. It wasn't, of course. Not for people who took up his mind. For the drinks, he smiled. Not for them. Never for them.
He drank until he tipped, like the people in pubs where I was before. But he had better reasons than they did. They were weak from weak trouble. My schuld had hard trouble, and the voices. He needed it, the drinking. It took the voices away. No one could say the voices were weak troubles. They were worse than anything weak.
He drank till he tipped, and then he left. He smiled still, and they still thought it was for them. Stupid people. Never understanding how wicked they were for what they did. For their loud, silly voices. He left, and I followed him in the shadow still. He opened the door, but this time not quiet as me. It was loud shutting. I was quiet. I came in after and I didn't make noise at all.
He went back to sleeping, sleeping on the sofa where the Tall One thought he should be. I went back to the end of it, and I didn't sleep. Because I was watching. I was listening, in case my schuld wanted to leave again. If he left again, I would leave too. Tipping schuld shouldn't be alone. So I watched and I listened, and I stayed awake. I heard him sleeping. My schuld didn't hear me at all.
----------------------------
A.N. This is for the peeps (read: Piper) who begged for another farf POV. Considering that those people (read: Piper) are both bigger and scarier (don't hurt me for saying that...^^) than I am, I didn't want to argue. How d'you like? ^^ I'm still sorry for that long absence between 5 and 6, but I'm back, and back with a more-or-less plan. So despite the fact that the continuity and flow of this story are pretty much nonexistant and it is therefore getting on my nerves when not read as standalone chapters, I will GO ON and write it very much longer. I don't know how much longer, but look for at least...oh, I have no idea. I'll just say I wouldn't be shocked if it ended out longer than Changing Wyrds (Inuyasha, 14 chappies). Later, gators.