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Apr. 29th, 2005 12:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mnt_raph*With the Funeral over there was no need for him to return to Tim's room to keep watch. So, instead he sat on his roof and looked up at the stars. At some point he decided to get a better view of the Scottish stars, so he lay back against the tar paper. Shortly there after, he fell asleep.
Raphael dreams.
The smell nearly bowls him over. It's pungent and thick, and familiar it was just never this strong. His skin is alive in a way he's never experienced before. He can feel the slightest breeze. There are others in the room, he can sense them, feel their breath on him. They are watching and waiting.
He is too weak to open his eyes, but he knows they mean him know harm. He can feel it. He loves them.
His sons.
One or two separate voices begin to bicker, but are quickly quieted by a third. The sudden silence of noise can only mean this third doesn't speak up all that often.
Pain. The pain of shut down.
Of slow down.
Of stopping.
He cries out for his Master, but nothing escapes his lips.
And then all is black.
For the first time in a long time he is truly alone. He knows he has died. He was expecting no less. There is no shame in dying among your loved ones. No shame in a life well lived. A teacher surpassed by his students suffers no loss upon dying, because he will live on through them. And in turn they will live on through their own teachings. His legacy is not biological, but passed on through hours of work and eventually reflex.
He is pleased, and smiles in the darkness.
The darkness does not smile back.
He waits, and yet still nothing. He thought she would come. The one he smelled on his son as he returned each night from the strange place they all think he doesn't know about. If not Master Yoshi, than at least her. She owes it to him for having stolen the heart from his son.
There is nothing.
The hair on his back begins to rise. He is not alone at all, is he? The darkness...it has teeth. This is a trap. Rats know all about traps.
The wait lingers on, and still nothing comes. The trap does not spring. The silence only grows.
Then suddenly there is a sound that deafens the darkness, pierces it with such horrendous sound. Sensitive ears caught unawares drag stalwart legs to the ground. Helpless, he tries to defend himself. To at least look upon that which causes him so much pain.
Above him stands a Mouser. Every joint screams the scream of metal on metal. The artificial predator stands ready to strike.
There is no where for him to go. Nothing for him to do.
Teeth close around him.
The pain, unbearable.
Raph sits up with a start. His heart is pounding and those tears that he couldn't bring himself to shed earlier in the afternoon, run freely down his cheek.*
Raphael dreams.
The smell nearly bowls him over. It's pungent and thick, and familiar it was just never this strong. His skin is alive in a way he's never experienced before. He can feel the slightest breeze. There are others in the room, he can sense them, feel their breath on him. They are watching and waiting.
He is too weak to open his eyes, but he knows they mean him know harm. He can feel it. He loves them.
His sons.
One or two separate voices begin to bicker, but are quickly quieted by a third. The sudden silence of noise can only mean this third doesn't speak up all that often.
Pain. The pain of shut down.
Of slow down.
Of stopping.
He cries out for his Master, but nothing escapes his lips.
And then all is black.
For the first time in a long time he is truly alone. He knows he has died. He was expecting no less. There is no shame in dying among your loved ones. No shame in a life well lived. A teacher surpassed by his students suffers no loss upon dying, because he will live on through them. And in turn they will live on through their own teachings. His legacy is not biological, but passed on through hours of work and eventually reflex.
He is pleased, and smiles in the darkness.
The darkness does not smile back.
He waits, and yet still nothing. He thought she would come. The one he smelled on his son as he returned each night from the strange place they all think he doesn't know about. If not Master Yoshi, than at least her. She owes it to him for having stolen the heart from his son.
There is nothing.
The hair on his back begins to rise. He is not alone at all, is he? The darkness...it has teeth. This is a trap. Rats know all about traps.
The wait lingers on, and still nothing comes. The trap does not spring. The silence only grows.
Then suddenly there is a sound that deafens the darkness, pierces it with such horrendous sound. Sensitive ears caught unawares drag stalwart legs to the ground. Helpless, he tries to defend himself. To at least look upon that which causes him so much pain.
Above him stands a Mouser. Every joint screams the scream of metal on metal. The artificial predator stands ready to strike.
There is no where for him to go. Nothing for him to do.
Teeth close around him.
The pain, unbearable.
Raph sits up with a start. His heart is pounding and those tears that he couldn't bring himself to shed earlier in the afternoon, run freely down his cheek.*
