Saudade: Melancholic longing or nostalgia for a person, place or thing that is far away from you || for josh
NON TRANSLATABLE WORDS. / ACCEPTING. @bathingdove !SAUDADE. noun. ( orj. portuguese. ) the melancholic longing or nostalgia for a person, place, or thing that is far away from you.
HE FEELS THE THRUM OF THE MOUNTAIN IN HIS VEINS. he is a cornered, wild animal. teeth are etched in an eternal sneer, he is an unpious display. the warning that something lurks beyond the veil of what is understood, of what has been classified as real. the sole survivor of the washington clan that’d been exposed to the mountain’s true power, but he doesn’t much feel alive anymore. had he ever ? he feels trapped in a body no longer his own, he belongs to the trees and the snow and the birds and the bees that made up blackwood. he was no longer himself, but a part of the very spirit that kept the mountain alive, and he longed to go back. he feels his guilt on his shoulders and he quivers like a dog kicked too many times. josh is trapped in the body of a creature unfamiliar to him, his mind wavers dangerously between his and no longer his own.
FEED, HUNGER, DEVOUR, TASTE, DESTROY. KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL.
HE’S STARVING. a thought that occurs to him in his government inflicted solitude. they’d found him on that mountain, humanity rotting away like the flesh that still clung to jessica’s skull. ( was it hers in his grip? those platinum braids were so familiar… the bodies that hung from the mine rafters , oh so familiar. ) what they give him now is nothing but slop, a sorry excuse for oatmeal and soups. they give him bread and dried meats, it’s all garbage that makes his stomach roll. he knows what he needs, he knows what they refuse to give him. he’s losing his vision, his hair. he’s blind in one eye, he can tell. his fingers blur in and out of his line of sight, fingers he once recognized aren’t there anymore, instead crooked, taloned things. his skin is sickly, not yet the same pallid grey that hannah had seen, but still an unhealthy shade. oh, lord ! i beg thee to forgive my sins, i fear i have become victim to a fate much worse than death.
in the worst of it, he sees his friends. he hears ashley’s terrified sobs as the saws wind closer, he hears chris banging against the door, begging for ashley to let him inside. he hears jessica’s body rattle against metal as she’s dropped onto the floor below, he smells the thick scent of iron as blood runs down emily’s cheeks. in the darker moments, he sees hannah and beth. they beg him, his guilt runs in thick, heavy streams. they appear to him in varying stages of rot, sometimes it’s hannah’s voice in his ear urging him to tear into the orderly. sometimes, he gets dangerously close. in the darkest moments, he sees her.
he thinks he can see her shifting behind the observation tank, arms crossed. he thinks he can see that silky blonde hair, can see the subtle pout her lips do when she frowns. he thinks, he thinks, he thinks, and all it’s good for is bringing back memories.
❛ what, giddings? afraid of a little excitement ? ❜ his beer is raised to her in a toast, teeth flashing in that so charming josh washington smile. he offers her his drink, a subtle promise. he remembers the way her eyes shown in those dim christmas lights, the way her sweater hugged her in such a way he could’ve imagined himself as that sweater, tone low and breath hot, yet hands so attentive. it was so filthy to think of someone in such a way, he thinks now how delicious she must be, longs to tear tendons with his teeth. he knows there will always be worse ways to imagine someone.
❛ you think you can provide it, or something? ❜ her eyes glint like sapphires, or something equally poetic that chris probably could’ve come up with, that would’ve been fodder for months worth of teasing from josh. he used to think chris’s dedication and love for ashley was something completely silly. yet seeing her there, all smiles and rosy cheeks, he thinks he just might get it. ever still so cocky, he shrugs, free hand concealed by the pocket of his pants. ❛ maybe. ❜ he taunts her just as she taunts him, it was something so uniquely, purely them. he wouldn’t have traded it for the world. ❛ it’s a pretty good night, i think i’ve got a shot. ❜
she’d indulged him, too. they’d been so close that night, their gazes rarely left the other’s. he gets it now, chris, or dreams that he has even a fraction of an idea. they’d drank until their cheeks were red and they were hunched over one another in laughter fits, only buzzed but so drunk on life they could’ve been intoxicated. she thought they had a connection, so did he. she’d gone out onto the balcony to get some fresh air, he’d foolishly followed, tailing behind her like a lost puppy. the air felt fantastic on his heated cheeks, and he leaned gratefully into the crisp winter breeze, caught snowflakes on his lashes and in his hair, and for just a moment, for the first time in a long time, he realized he was completely at peace. he opens his eyes to her watching him curiously, but the smile on her lips was anything but taunting.
josh doesn’t remember kissing her. doesn’t remember when the chill eventually began to bite at his fingers, only remembers the softness of blonde strands as he tucks his fingers into the locks. he remembers the heat of her breath against his lips and her hands lightly clasped around his forearms. she watches him in their closeness, but josh doesn’t remember kissing her because he never did. his gaze trailed down to her lips, his thumb lightly stroked her cheek. almost a kiss, almost something new, unfamiliar. almost was a term sadder than never. they almost kissed, he almost fell in love. they almost made it.
yet THE CREATURE stares her down now, teeth gnashing against exposed gums. its eyes are clouded, holds on its haunches, always poised to attack. it still wore his stupid overalls, the plaid shirt underneath ratty and too large for the decaying form underneath. he stares her down and she stares back, the hatred in her eyes was not at all ill fitting for the crimes he’d committed. his friends rot in graves, their blood on his hands. he hears wind rip through his ears, and the guttural noise that escapes the creature is not josh, not even a whisper of the boy. bones move unnaturally as it inches forwards, head tilting as it watches through thick plexiglas. the mountain runs through his veins, the curse that had poisoned that mountain kept his heart beating. but a time, not all that long ago, he would’ve been so convinced that it was only just her.
