Theme 12: Kassandra - Week 4

So today I'm not so much upset anymore as I am feeling depressed. At least I'm functional, and able to bring you the post (which, yes, was supposed to be on Monday - RL came first).

Last week of Kassandra, and today I bring you a little scene that had huge repercussions in the long run. Also, Rated R for graphic violence and loud cursing.

You have been warned.

The wolf was trapped. Wounded. Writhing at Kassandra's feet.

And she had the unpleasant sensation that it was laughing at her.

Kassandra's breath was rapid, heavy. Her trembling grip tightened upon the dagger's hilt.

"What do you think you are, you stupid beast!" she spat, one moment away from kicking the beast, "I caught you! I caught you! And I'm gonna kill you!"

The beast let out a low gurgle – a bestial laugh. It turned a bright yellow eye towards Kassandra who, feeling its gaze boring through her soul, lost her composure.

Try it, Necromancer, came the growling voice of the beast straight into Kassandra's heart, I dare you. Try and kill me.

Kassandra had gasped and released the dagger. She stood, frozen in place as much by the beast's defiance as by its manner of communication. Her hand absently reached for her chest and gripped the damaged butterfly pendant she had always possessed without understanding why. Fear escaped her lips before she realized she was speaking.

"Who… What are you?!"

Do you not know, Necromancer? Has your pet never spoken of me?

"My pet? What—"

The wolf straightened, visibly ignoring its broken back paw still caught in a tight knotted trap. Its eyes set upon Kassandra and she felt, right there and then, that it was penetrating her soul – and staring straight through her, at something she had always sensed was there. She rattled a gasp as she felt a cold, soft hand brush against her shoulder.

You are the pet then, Necrolorian. Another puppet. Another discarded exp—

"Shut the fuck up!!!"

Kassandra's pink eyes glinted in the moonslight – alight not only with a desire to inflict suffering, but with forgotten emotions she could scarcely hang onto: an ancient feeling of solitude, of loss… of hatred… … of whispers in the dark, speaking to her heart…

She heard the whispers right now, a comforting caress upon her skin. They drowned the world, blurred the edges of reality; called out to her to terminate the wolf – the threat to their integrity. Kassandra set a hand on her shoulder, and thought she sensed the presence of another: not that of the man she knew to be sleeping some ways away, the man who had set the trap for her because she had asked him to – and why had she asked him to? She did not quite remember. Something had told her to.

Everything made a sort of incomprehensible sense. She was still missing a few links.

"I'm no one's puppet, wolf. I don't belong to anyone but me."

The wolf's raucous laughter echoed on the wind and in her heart.

All Necrolorians are puppets, girl. Serving a god you've never heard of. Serving the true masters of this realm. Until, one way or the other, your purpose ends.

Kassandra's eyes narrowed. She knew the wolf's words to be lies – she didn't even understand half of what it spoke of. True masters? A god? And what are Necrolorians? And why… why do the wolf's words feel familiar? Why do they trigger the whispers in the dark?

"Who the fuck are you?"

The wolf laughed, baring its sharp, broken fangs.

Your death, Necrolorian.

The wolf was upon Kassandra in seconds. Without the rope tied to its back paw, it would have torn off her jugular in one fell strike; instead the wolf fell back, pulled back by its own momentum and the tightness of the rope. Instinct taking over, Kassandra reached for her dagger as the wolf snapped the rope in half and lunged again at her.

Blood splattered on her face. The blade had dug deep into the wolf's throat.

Kassandra's heart was beating in her own throat. "Not so high and mighty now huh!"

The wolf gurgled, its paws twitching as dark blood poured from the wound like rivers down its disheveled fur. The dagger's blade had pierced its jugular.

You're a fool, Necrolorian…

Kassandra's grin turned sour. She twisted the blade around, causing the wolf to yelp.

"I'm the fool you fucking beast?! You're the one who's dying! You're the one bleeding! You're not gonna survive this!"

I have survived wors—

The wolf's body arched, twisted. Something was happening – Kassandra did not know what, or how, but she sensed a presence acting in her stead. She felt the brush of soft darkness on her hands. She wanted to call out to a name long forgotten, to memories buried in the grave of another life. Her pink eyes hardened as she stared up at the wolf's bloodied throat, at the dagger jabbed into the wound, and at her hands holding it in place.

The command had escaped her lips before she realized what she was saying.

"Kill it."

Kassandra felt the air contract and lash out; the wolf gurgled howls of pain and visibly attempted to struggle, but it could barely move – as though restrained by invisible chains. It was dying, each breath taken bringing it a little closer to its eventual demise.

With the wolf's last breath a shade rose within darkness, barely visible through the gloom of night. Kassandra's breath stopped as she stared, wide-eyed, into the unseen darkness. Power, like nothing she had ever perceived, stared back at her for a fraction of eternal time, and then it was gone.

Kassandra screamed as blackness filled every corner of her heart and soul.

Then, Kassandra laughed.