Weakling(WIP)

Black hide died out, golden tan remained in it’s wake.. Red eyes died in the wake of dull green. Power. Power fading fast.

“How does it feel?”

Muscles quivered, fur caked in blood and dirt. Heavy unsteady breaths that brought the feeling of anxiety. A heart racing and beating out of his chest.

“To be powerless? How does it feel to be mortal? To be so close to death?”

Choked breaths only got worse. Muscles gave out under the pressure. Fountains of blood kept pouring out of his wounds. Heavy lidded eyes strained to stay open.

“Tell me, how does it feel to be covered in your own blood?”

He tried, he tried so hard to call any sliver of power to aid him. Yet none was given. None came to aid him. He was sore, tired and beaten. He felt so weak, so  utterly weak.

“It’s scary; being weak, being so helpless against all odds.”

Yes, it was scary. Terrifying. Here he was, at the mercy of an enemy. An enemy that lacked mercy. An enemy that wanted nothing more than to see him suffer. To die slowly. Still against it all he kept trying to call some kind of power to him.

“Of course. Look at you, still trying despite it all. It’s time for you to wake up!”

The words were harsh, true despite how much he wanted to not believe them. Choked sobs blurted into existence, eyes scrunched shut as he sobbed in a puddle of blood and mud. Slowly, ever so slowly his life was draining from him. A scary notion.

“Does it hurt?”

Yes! Yes it hurt! He tried to slow down his breathing, to control his emotions. They would do him no good here.

“Do you want it to stop?”

Yes! Yes make it stop please!  He was unsettled. Unsettled by the fact that he was dying. Never before had he been so controlled by his fear of death. He wanted so bad to defy the one that brought him down. Yet when he opened his mouth only a raspy groan came out. No words. Not a single letter.

“You see? You are nothing compared to me. Did you really think you could overpower me? Me?! Akuma! I can’t die! I can NEVER die!”

More tears left his face. More blood spilled out from his corpse. His heart beating against his chest in fear. Fear. A primal thing. A primitive thing. A stupid thing!

“Look at you. Dying at my feet. Pitiful. You're useless.”

Mocking. Always mocking. Why did it have to turn out like this?  He knew deep down that this would be the outcome. A cruel reality that he banished from his brain the minute he thought of it.

“I’m not finished with you yet. GET UP!"

Okay… Okay… He tried. He tried and failed to stand. His own body refused to obey him, or was it too weak to do so? Sucking in painful breaths as his muscles strained to stand. Strained to obey the command he’d given. He fell back into the puddle of blood. His blood. His body felt so dead, so unresponsive. His body was clearly telling him he was finished.

“I-I’m not…”

He rasped. His throat felt like sandpaper, dry and unforgiving. His throat resolved and he ended up coughing blood. Taking in quick shallow breaths from the pain.

“Oh but you are. You should look at yourself. Writhing on the ground beneath my feet!”

He was writhing, struggling to gain his footing. Defiance calling him, demanding he get the hell back up and finish this one way or another. Dull eyes shooting a cold glare up at the victor above him.

“No I… I r-refuse to go… down l-like this!”  

His voice only got raspier, wheezing with each breath. His eyes lidded and his will fading fast no matter how much he wanted it to stay. Muscles quivering, shakingly managing to stand. Body held weakly on his four legs.

“Ah, there we are. Ready for another round eh?”

Just as quickly as he stood up he was brought back down. The movement was too fast for his tired eyes and the next thing he knew was he was flat on his back. An overwhelming pressure against his chest. Talons digging into the already bloody fur.

“I can’t believe you’re the reincarnation of my precious Tarue. It would be easier to just kill you and hope for a better replacement…”

Harsh words from a harsh monster. His face was contorted in pain, immense pain. The weight of a being much larger than him hurt, he felt his ribs crack under the pressure. Shattering into thousands of little pieces. His eyes say a blind haze from the pain. A cry emanating from his raspy throat. No… Not like this…

“Then again it would be quite some time before you’re reborn and fully grown, so I’ll give you another chance. What do you say?”

No… never… Not now… Not in a million years… Those words brought him back, his will to resist coming back full force. Tears no longer flowing but dry and crusty against the blood.

“Rot in hell!”

His words were still raspy, but fury was laced into every letter. His body straining against the limb that held him down. No matter how much it hurt, he would get through this. He was born to defy. Born to resist. Born to be free.

“I am hell. You are in hell. It seems I’ll have to wait for you once more spawn.”

His green eyes flashed in fear as razor sharp talons attached to a dragon like hand were raised just above his head. He froze. This was it. He was going to die. He was going to die at the hands of a god, alone without any help. Without anyone to save him. To stop this outcome.

“Any last words?”

What do I say? What do I do? I’m… alone, all alone! Just then something caught his would be killer’s attention. A blast of white and sky blue slammed into the devil himself. A white figure appearing over his fallen form.

“Just one; Not today you son of a bitch!”

Brother… Little brother… Just in time, just in time an ally saved him. He wasn’t alone. It brought him some peace.

“Little worm! I thought I killed you!”

A roar erupted from the white beast’s throat, guarding over his battered body.

“An angel never falters no matter the blow.”

Yes, little brother… always the smart one… Always careful, always cautious. White feathers bristled as the air grew ice cold. Never once did he falter or give way to fear, still stood over the beaten ally.  

“How irksome.”

Blood kept pouring out of the fallen’s body, soon darkness welcomed him with open arms. Swarming his head with dizzy vision as his brain shut down. Welcoming the release of pain that came with it.

“Don’t worry brother.”

I trust you little brother… That was the last thing he heard before he passed out.