a hangman’s noose around his neck ——— tighter , tighter , tighter still . in the morning , it’ll paint a necklace of bruises , black and blue and purple in the most tender areas where the leather digs in and bites cold and unforgiving ( diego doesn’t remember what it’s like to choke , lungs alight , an inferno devouring soft flesh , heating up from the inside ) ———— sometimes he fears he’ll forget how to breathe . the room tilts , a constellation of lights and the echo of a fist . lightning striking hard , fast , bursting an eruption of pain that threatens to consume it all . he can’t scream , or yell , or even curse . five’s name is a whisper amidst grunts , mental anguish that won’t shut up .
two and five , winners of the shittiest lottery in the world . bad luck is a tease , red lips of cyanide . ( move , number two ! what are you waiting for ? ) if the hero fails , the story ends . it takes more effort than it should , more energy than he currently has . no friction against the floor ; he pushes off , or tries to ——— fails . again . tunnel vision blurs dark all edges and then there’s just him and the asshole with the snowy hair coming closer . he smirks , blood on his teeth , waits until he’s closer to push again , just one second is all he needs . the room tilts just enough , enough for him to kick against the man’s chest and push harder . two bodies slam on the wall , and the leather around his neck loosens .
he doesn’t duck so much as he sways , one - two step , to the slow melody of his heartbeat , and he strikes with the coordination of a drunk . the first punch is sluggish , poorly aimed . the second is better . the kick that follows makes up for its predecessors’ bad performance . ❛ you fuckin’ assholes just don’t know when to quit , huh ? ❜ his voice mocks him , low and hoarse , like spitting gravel . dad always said to use the environment to their advantage .. so he does , picking up an ornate vase by the wall and throwing it to his would - be murderer , the one that colored his throat . right on the head , the vase breaks to pieces in a satisfying shower of glass .
one down , two to go —————
he feints left , hits right , another satisfying hit that makes the second swede stagger back . that’s fine , that’s all he needs . diego turns , ignoring the man ( never turn your back to the enemy ! ) but five needs his help . a glint of steel embedded in dark furniture ; he grabs it as he goes , but doesn’t bother throwing , not when he’s close enough to stab . the blade cuts into flesh , scraping bone , right into a shoulder . the momentum is enough to shove the man away from his brother and not one to waste a clear opportunity , diego tackles the asshole head on , body slamming into him right in the middle ————————— and right out the window .
fuck , he finally spares a glance at five just to make sure he’s still alive . god , he doesn’t remember the last time he saw five looking like that . ❛ hey , don’t die on me now , old man . ❜ and there goes his voice , a rasp of what it used to be .
VIOLENT PURPLES AND ANGRY BLUES , the cosmic explosions of supernovas on stretched thin skin . meteors crash with supersonic speed in a momentum so blinding that white flames flicker before his eyes , sight going as he miserably catches himself wishing for unconsciousness to simply swallow him whole . it might as well be the end . what could be more fitting than the last hooray being nothing but a moment of pathetic acceptance .
there is no noise surrounding him , not anymore at least it has been long replaced by the blood rushing in his ears and the restless pounding of his heart while it hammers against achingly tight rib cage ; seemingly screaming about being alive , to stay alive . whatever the swede is doing now lies far beyond five’s current state of comprehension ( or field of vision ) . only the familiar feeling of a large hand gripping bony shoulder too tightly anchors him to the faint knowledge of reality . so he braces himself for what will probably be the last punch he may recall . . . until with an exaggerated thud he falls . limp , lifeless and drooping onto the floor with clumsy force and a shaky exhale of pain . the carpet is rough and hard , not at all softening the impact as something begins to stab and pulsate within his side . tugging so fiercely , he absentmindedly lets hand wander to his abdomen in response .
agonised delirium makes his vest feel wet in an unappreciated act of déjà vu .
it’s the shattering of a window that finally snaps him out of his somewhat catatonic trance . suddenly hyper - alert of his surrounding and a fresh wave of adrenaline pushing battered body into a kneeling position before eyes can meet his brother’s gaze . five can’t help the stupendous feeling of relief washing over him , though now clear mind reminds him instantly of the not - yet cleared situation .
the taste of blood is too prominent in his mouth when he scoffs , stomach wanting to be sick against the spinning motion of the world ; axis turning anti - clockwise and upside down . he can handle it . worse things have been handed to him , worse things have happened to him . you’re someone who survives , delores had told him once , and all he could do was smile . similar expression graces his features now , lips curling into something contorted and wrong . diego’s eyes are wild , swimming with unanticipated worry and the habitual focus of a fight or flight response in the making .
❝ i’m not dying . ❞ words lack their usual bite , instead echoing breathless and trembling . muscles and bones protest as he slowly stands , hand finding window sill for support when body sways and knees threaten to buckle . a quick glance is thrown towards the broken window then back to diego . at least they got rid of one . he takes a moment to examine his brother , inspecting ugly lilac ornamentation around his neck with furrowed brows and huh , his voice sure didn’t sound too good either . ❝ you okay ? ❞
vaporwave
prguitarman
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