Period 4: Art
Theme 5: Oil
Words: 679
Author: Lillie Bell
He was drowning. Blackness surrounded him, closing out all the light. It billowed around him, knocking him against the black bar of his cage. It plowed into him like a wave of black oil, running through him over and over, filling his nose and ears and mouth with its darkness. He was consumed by it over and over again.
He didn't know how long he stayed there, thrashed about till all of his strength was gone. His hands no longer gripped the bars he was thrust into. His legs no longer looked for purchase on the fluid ground. His body was bruised and battered from the physical onslaught. But his mind…
His mind was raped by that black ink.
I coalesced into dancing waves before him. Figures in black relief of his lover and future child. Images of them searching, forgetting, finding him. Images of him laying lifeless against a tall throne and the face of one they had thought defeated with the New Moon.
He tried to fight them. He had seen the error of believing his dreams before. That time it had nearly cost him his destiny. Now, it would cost him everything.
His soul screamed for relief, but the black dungeon would have none of it. His deeds as a sentient of Beryl were thrust before him. He relieved each of his sins over and over again. Betrayal of his generals, of his lover, of his child. The blackness filled his soul.
Where was the kinzuishou now? That mysterious crystal that would grant him powers so he could save himself was nowhere to be seen. He had thought he would be able to protect himself with its power. He thought Usagi wouldn't suffer from his own lack of strength against their enemies.
He had been foolishly wrong.
His soul lashed against the darkness, pressing into its oozing, flowing ink. It bent and slid with the pressure he applied, but did not break. He screamed, the liquid filling his lungs so that he breathed it into his pores. He gathered his inner strength and pressed all of his power against his cage.
And still, he was powerless to move it.
He could feel her calling to him. The darkness twisted and turned to show the senshi mounted to the wall. He begged it to show him more—show him what he truly feared.
There, in the middle of the room, was Usagi holding the rapidly disappearing body of Chibi-usa. The child that would cease to exist if he was not there to sire her. The child he had protected, that he had advised, that he had placed his unspoken dream of finally having real family with. That child fell slowly out of existence. And his soul felt it the moment her light went out.
Mamoru howled against his constraints. He cried as the waves poured over him again and again, crashing him into the walls, reopening bruises and gashes. How long had he been here? How long had he allowed himself to play the weakness card?
He growled, standing against the darkness as it washed over him. Chibi-usa was dead because of him. Because of his weakness. The oil pressed into him again, pushing him down, trying to trip him. But he stood tall against it. He'd rather die in this moment, completely destroyed by the pressure of the waves, than live without the hope of the future.
Tears streamed down his face. And the waves grew calmer. He didn't notice it immediately, but as he cried for the child that was his everything, the darkness receded. His body was too weak to stand and he collapsed, but he continued to cry. His voice howled as he mourned.
And suddenly, light sprung forth. A golden beacon sliced through the darkness. A transparent hand reached out to him, a long white garment floating down the small wrist. And he grabbed it without hesitation.
"Take me to them," he commanded.
"Of course, my prince," was all he heard before he was filled with light and the nightmare was over.