Ficlet: Revenant
Sunday, April 12th, 2015 10:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serai.
Revenant
He startled, feeling the press of steel cold against his temple, and looked up from his bed to see the silhouette lined in starlight, the stony jaw and hard forearm.
“Pray,” the voice came, a deep rasp of pain. “Pray to your god for what you did to her.”
There was the hot, burnt smell of murder in the air, and despite everything, he trembled. But he held his head up, and stared at the man whose throat he’d cut six nights ago. Slowly he closed his eyes - No, you are not here - and heard a growling intake of breath, then...silence. When he opened them, the vision was gone, just as before.
He let out his own breath. How long would this go on? He saw again the American’s endurance, his determination, and at the end, his madness. How his last act had been to spit on the man killing him, the steel grey eyes in the battered, bloodied face never wavering in their hatred.
Now it seemed to him the same eyes glittered fitfully in the shadows, where a sense of something crouched and waiting radiated outward towards him. He must stay awake, he knew he must, and he heard the echo of McGarrett’s dying words:
You’ll never sleep again.
Revenant
He startled, feeling the press of steel cold against his temple, and looked up from his bed to see the silhouette lined in starlight, the stony jaw and hard forearm.
“Pray,” the voice came, a deep rasp of pain. “Pray to your god for what you did to her.”
There was the hot, burnt smell of murder in the air, and despite everything, he trembled. But he held his head up, and stared at the man whose throat he’d cut six nights ago. Slowly he closed his eyes - No, you are not here - and heard a growling intake of breath, then...silence. When he opened them, the vision was gone, just as before.
He let out his own breath. How long would this go on? He saw again the American’s endurance, his determination, and at the end, his madness. How his last act had been to spit on the man killing him, the steel grey eyes in the battered, bloodied face never wavering in their hatred.
Now it seemed to him the same eyes glittered fitfully in the shadows, where a sense of something crouched and waiting radiated outward towards him. He must stay awake, he knew he must, and he heard the echo of McGarrett’s dying words:
You’ll never sleep again.
