07-03-2020, 02:11 AM
I failed.
A thought amid the cacophony of panic. A horrifying moment of lucidity. Then movement, the gauzy white of Zacarías’ robe. The impact thud his brain to the back of his skull. Lights flashed blurry. He heard it more than felt anything. Stunned. He tried to hold his weight up, but his neck rolled around too heavy. The floor was upside down. Hands pressed over his. The dangle of blonde hair swayed like an anchor in the storm. He couldn’t believe he failed.
His name echoed haunts. His mother’s voice that was surely hallucination. Except she was above his face, cradling his in her hands. The blurred outline wavered, and in one swift, jarring sweep the world collapsed back to reality. Jay’s eyes sharpened, face smeared red with the cut of Amengual’s boot. A defiant heave and frantic clutching of his hand to his side, fingers squishing into the rent flesh, he pawed at Natalie’s jacket until a pistol was produced from an inner pocket. When he aimed the weapon, his arm was surprisingly steady.
Problem was, his legs didn’t behave. A stumble. Natalie was too small to hold his weight. Across the room, Placaso lay in a twisted heap of limbs and blood. A guttural howl boomed from his chest, daring his enemy forward. ”Amengual!”
It fired, but the grip slipped in his bloody hand. Amengual’s gaze flared wide as he attempted to duck. The shot punched the wall where the drug lord previously stood. Jay’s knees buckled gave as he attempted to follow, and he sank to the floor.
![[Image: attachment.php?aid=17]](https://thefirstage.org/forums/attachment.php?aid=17)
Scion Marveet
Scion’s attention drank in the circumstances of the room, but by the tilt of his jaw, he was prepared to encounter bloody fighting. A wave of the hand and the lead sergeant in charge of Amengual’s mercenaries punched a command in Spanish. The remaining men acknowledged the order, hurrying out the front door. Amengual yelled furiously, having narrowly escaped death by a half-dead man. When he realized his mercs were obeying Scion rather than him, he snarled, grabbed the rifle from the floor, fired aimlessly behind him and fled.
Scion ducked the random gunfire without much more than a flinch. The sergeant ran to the exit Amengual plunged into in case he thought to return on a surprise. Meanwhile, Scion hurried to Natalie and Jay, the prize he had to deliver back to Ascendancy.
Despite the calamity in which they stewed, he spoke, sarcasm dripping. “Call it a philanthropic mission,” but soon reverted to serious focus as someone rounded the Russian. Scion stepped aside.
![[Image: jaysad.jpg]](https://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/07/jaysad.jpg)
When Jay slumped, it was his mother who caught him. Kind of. She was whispering hope into his ear, looking aside as she did. Telling him who had come. That things were going to be alright now. That they were going to be okay. A rifle punched the air, and on instinct, Jay pulled his mom to his side just as she pushed at him. Then she stopped talking. Didn’t even scream, and something dripped into Jay’s eyes from his hairline.
When he looked up, he found a skull blown open, and no amount of shock held back the tears streaming from his eyes. They sank together in dead weight. I failed. I failed. I failed.
Through it all, a presence descended. He didn’t notice it at first, but the dread familiarity snagged barbs in his brain. When he looked up, a face hovered close, and recognition swarmed an angel he refused. He shook his head. ”No! No! Her, her! He demanded, attempting to punch sense into the situation.
Then the light flushed searing heat through his bones, knitting sweet flesh and washing away everything that hurt – except the one thing that hurt the most.
He didn’t deserve to live. Everyone. Literally everyone was dead because of him. Why was he the only one saved? Because he was a fucking channeler. Somehow more fucking valuable? He was nothing but suffering.
![[Image: attachment.php?aid=23]](https://thefirstage.org/forums/attachment.php?aid=23)
Jay’s struggle was enormous, and the moment he was healthy, the soldier of Dominion almost shoved him away if not for the awkward angle between them. Jensen gave Jay his space, turning next to Natalie. He didn’t ask permission as he ignored Jay’s denial. He could save whom he could save, and none more. His eyes whispered let me as he tried to cup her cheeks. Finally, he moved toward the woman who believed in him when none others did. He couldn’t look at what remained of her other than attempt to help position her body in a more respectful rest.
Jay drew into himself, and Jensen knelt in front of him, hand on the man’s shoulder. Jensen said something he never thought he’d hear himself say.
“Go kill Zacarías Amengual.”
Jay looked up, blood smeared across his face, the depravity of a wild animal awakened within.
As soon as Jensen said it, Jay realized the position he was in. The power came hurling back in a torrent of storm, it practically crackled electricity around his body. He turned away from them all. His mother and father. Jensen. Scion. Placaso. Even Natalie. He threw two discarded rifles over his shoulders, and sprinted into the darkness unleashed. Never looking back.
Outside, the power swarmed the noises of the jungle loud in his ears, but in the distance following a dirt path downhill, the quick pace of footfalls pounded a druglord who thought he was about to escape.
A thought amid the cacophony of panic. A horrifying moment of lucidity. Then movement, the gauzy white of Zacarías’ robe. The impact thud his brain to the back of his skull. Lights flashed blurry. He heard it more than felt anything. Stunned. He tried to hold his weight up, but his neck rolled around too heavy. The floor was upside down. Hands pressed over his. The dangle of blonde hair swayed like an anchor in the storm. He couldn’t believe he failed.
His name echoed haunts. His mother’s voice that was surely hallucination. Except she was above his face, cradling his in her hands. The blurred outline wavered, and in one swift, jarring sweep the world collapsed back to reality. Jay’s eyes sharpened, face smeared red with the cut of Amengual’s boot. A defiant heave and frantic clutching of his hand to his side, fingers squishing into the rent flesh, he pawed at Natalie’s jacket until a pistol was produced from an inner pocket. When he aimed the weapon, his arm was surprisingly steady.
Problem was, his legs didn’t behave. A stumble. Natalie was too small to hold his weight. Across the room, Placaso lay in a twisted heap of limbs and blood. A guttural howl boomed from his chest, daring his enemy forward. ”Amengual!”
It fired, but the grip slipped in his bloody hand. Amengual’s gaze flared wide as he attempted to duck. The shot punched the wall where the drug lord previously stood. Jay’s knees buckled gave as he attempted to follow, and he sank to the floor.
Scion Marveet
Scion’s attention drank in the circumstances of the room, but by the tilt of his jaw, he was prepared to encounter bloody fighting. A wave of the hand and the lead sergeant in charge of Amengual’s mercenaries punched a command in Spanish. The remaining men acknowledged the order, hurrying out the front door. Amengual yelled furiously, having narrowly escaped death by a half-dead man. When he realized his mercs were obeying Scion rather than him, he snarled, grabbed the rifle from the floor, fired aimlessly behind him and fled.
Scion ducked the random gunfire without much more than a flinch. The sergeant ran to the exit Amengual plunged into in case he thought to return on a surprise. Meanwhile, Scion hurried to Natalie and Jay, the prize he had to deliver back to Ascendancy.
Despite the calamity in which they stewed, he spoke, sarcasm dripping. “Call it a philanthropic mission,” but soon reverted to serious focus as someone rounded the Russian. Scion stepped aside.
When Jay slumped, it was his mother who caught him. Kind of. She was whispering hope into his ear, looking aside as she did. Telling him who had come. That things were going to be alright now. That they were going to be okay. A rifle punched the air, and on instinct, Jay pulled his mom to his side just as she pushed at him. Then she stopped talking. Didn’t even scream, and something dripped into Jay’s eyes from his hairline.
When he looked up, he found a skull blown open, and no amount of shock held back the tears streaming from his eyes. They sank together in dead weight. I failed. I failed. I failed.
Through it all, a presence descended. He didn’t notice it at first, but the dread familiarity snagged barbs in his brain. When he looked up, a face hovered close, and recognition swarmed an angel he refused. He shook his head. ”No! No! Her, her! He demanded, attempting to punch sense into the situation.
Then the light flushed searing heat through his bones, knitting sweet flesh and washing away everything that hurt – except the one thing that hurt the most.
He didn’t deserve to live. Everyone. Literally everyone was dead because of him. Why was he the only one saved? Because he was a fucking channeler. Somehow more fucking valuable? He was nothing but suffering.
Jay’s struggle was enormous, and the moment he was healthy, the soldier of Dominion almost shoved him away if not for the awkward angle between them. Jensen gave Jay his space, turning next to Natalie. He didn’t ask permission as he ignored Jay’s denial. He could save whom he could save, and none more. His eyes whispered let me as he tried to cup her cheeks. Finally, he moved toward the woman who believed in him when none others did. He couldn’t look at what remained of her other than attempt to help position her body in a more respectful rest.
Jay drew into himself, and Jensen knelt in front of him, hand on the man’s shoulder. Jensen said something he never thought he’d hear himself say.
“Go kill Zacarías Amengual.”
Jay looked up, blood smeared across his face, the depravity of a wild animal awakened within.
As soon as Jensen said it, Jay realized the position he was in. The power came hurling back in a torrent of storm, it practically crackled electricity around his body. He turned away from them all. His mother and father. Jensen. Scion. Placaso. Even Natalie. He threw two discarded rifles over his shoulders, and sprinted into the darkness unleashed. Never looking back.
Outside, the power swarmed the noises of the jungle loud in his ears, but in the distance following a dirt path downhill, the quick pace of footfalls pounded a druglord who thought he was about to escape.
Only darkness shows you the light.