The sudden absence of Sophie's emotions was like someone had ripped a hole through his chest. He always forgot how intense her emotions were. But now he felt numb, like nothing he could ever feel would ever fill the hole that was left. For the first time, he noticed noises outside the door, but no distinct words he could make out. He heard weapons clanking. He could smell something metallic, and it took him a moment to register that it was blood. Sophie's blood. Sophie's blood lying cold, in a puddle on the beautiful carpet.
Keefe retched, his stomach heaving, but he had nothing left to give. He heard more noises outside, and the smell of blood grew stronger. He tried to stand up but didn't make it very far. He tried again, slowly trying to sit up. It took a few attempts, but he eventually managed to sit up. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he was panting from the effort.
"You useless piece of junk." Keefe scolded himself through gritted teeth. "You didn't even get hurt, and here you are, acting like a baby."
He thought back to Sophie's face when the Neverseen were torturing her. Gritted teeth. Open eyes, staring daggers at Gisela. Refusing to show pain. Refusing to let them win. That image of her would haunt his nightmares forever. "Curse my stupid photographic memory!" He knew the image of Sophie wouldn't fade with time either. But he could use it to remember to show strength. To never let them win. To keep fighting until the end.
Keeping his amazing pep talk in mind, he tried to stand up, to follow Sophie, to start searching for her, but he collapsed again, hitting his head on the desk. He groaned, curling up in a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible as tears silently fell. Sophie, the beautiful moon lark was… who knows where, maybe alive, maybe not, and she was with his mother. The thought was too much, and he finally let it all out, sobbing and yelling, not caring what was coming next as blood poured out of a gash on his head, making him feel lightheaded. It was a lot easier to give himself advice than it was to actually follow it. But maybe he needed to let himself feel. Then he could use his emotions to fuel him. To give him a reason to keep fighting.
Suddenly, the ground began to shake, and three black figures popped out of the ground, surrounding Keefe. He tried to sit up again, but they all jumped at him, their rough hands pushing him against the carpet. He couldn't figure out where everyone was, they were at Sophie's house after all, but the dwarves covered his mouth with their hands, muffling his shouts.
His head was foggy, and everything felt like it was spinning. He saw the door get blasted off its hinges by a tidal wave, and then four silhouettes walked into the room. Keefe couldn't tell who they were and started thrashing, biting at the hands holding him down.
"SOPHIE!" Keefe was hysterical, screaming her name over and over. Tears clouded his eyes, and he couldn't hear anything, too overwhelmed by the panic. He twisted away as a cloth was held to his mouth, the sickly-sweet scent overpowering. His lungs longed for air, but he refused to breathe in, to let them take him too. Everything was going black, his heart was beating slower. His body needed oxygen.
He wouldn't breathe. They could take him dead, but they weren't going to get him alive. He knew too much of the Black Swan's secret's, it would compromise too many plans. Too many people. That was a risk he couldn't take. He tried to focus on the skill lessons he'd done when he was with the Neverseen, but it was all just out of reach.
He was almost out of time; he couldn't keep fighting. It was time to give up. "I'm so sorry Sophie." He whispered into the damp cloth with the last of his breathe. Then everything went black.
