Break Me: I will write an angsty drabble about our characters.
Kaya could hear him moving through the floor, thrashing as the terrors came, the rest of the dorm wondered who owned the name he screamed at night but Kaya knew.
Kaya knew the monster that plagued the Mockingbird. A monster in human flesh. The designer of Wonderland.
Ṙ̷̡͍̙̣̖̾i̴͕̯͊̅̽̑͋͠ͅn̶̡̗̝̭̖͍̣̖͖̾i̸͇̬̯͇̮̼̘͇̿́͆̈́̏̄c̵̡̘͕͉̱͖̠̫͐͋̃̀̆ͅḧ̶͚̙̯̮͎̲́͜ͅi̷͇̙͈̫͖͑̌̋̽̎͘͘̚r̵̹̗̹͕͈̯̄̑̽͝ő̴̭̣̩̻͕̖̰͛ ̶͕̟͛͆Ḥ̶̡̧͙̼͎̫͓̃͒̈́̾̐͐̃͝a̸̳̻̔̉̒͊ͅg̶̦̪͌̈́͂̓͘͠ͅi̶̤͑̒͜͠r̵͓̜̜̎̎̎͐̂̀̊͗̕͠e̵̢̨̧͎̭̙̭̮͈̗͊
Out of all of the Deadmen, Toto may have had the worst fate of them all. True none of them had become unscathed but Toto had done it all right! He’d become the strongest Deadman, the very top of the Carnival Corpse, only to have Hagire’s consciousness forced into his body and his own suppressed.
Hagire had then run amok, he’d destroyed everything he’d built and had nearly destroyed Toto and the rest of the Deadmen along with it. He’d drained Toto of nearly all of his ichor, lost an arm and a leg, and had murdered the one person that Toto had cared about.
All in the name of quantifying L O V E.
Yes, Toto definitely had it worse than the rest of them.
Swinging her legs over the side of her bed with a sigh, the Sparrow made her way to the floor below where the boys slept. Unsurprisingly there was a crowd gathering, most of them confused or concerned–though some were also irritated–wondering if they should have gotten a teacher.
“Outta tha way” The snapped order seemed to take some of them by surprise because–to her surprise–they obeyed.
The blood curdling screams raised exponentially in volume when she parted the door from it’s frame; echoing through the hallways and surely waking any other soul lucky enough to have been able to sleep through them before. She cringed. But they weren’t enough to stop her from entering the room and closing the door behind her.
His screams echoed through the room, almost painful to hear as she made her way to where he thrashed on the bed. Waking him was–more or less–an exercise in futility, he would either wake on his own or ease back into sleep without waking. All she could do was soothe him, so that’s what she did.
Getting onto the bed, she eased his head up and set it across her knees, doing her best to pet his hair as he continued to fight his internal demons.
“He’s not here.” She told him softly, “Hagire is dead, he can’t hurt you anymore.” Over and over she repeated this, not really knowing if it were REALLY true, but saying it anyway.
More than once he scratched her, at one point he even bit her hard enough to draw blood, but when the teacher came into the room some fifteen minutes later, he’d calmed considerably. His screams had died down to almost pained moans as she stroked his hair and muttered reassurances that she doubted he could really hear. They would have some explaining in the morning, but for now she would do what needed to be done.
