A Story by Scaramouche

One of many prompts I've been attempting to complete.


There was a storm of footsteps, and Hyraxe knew he was in for it. He sat up, rolled over, and stretched. It was a move that was purely feline, his body sharply arched, arms reaching forward as a series of cracks reverberated down his spine. The man was lithe, and his pose suited his demeanour, calm, careless and indifferent to the blazing eyes of his companion.


“Where are the documents?”


“What makes you think I-”




Hyraxe cast a sullen look towards the ground, a sulk settled deep in his features. He had taken the documents from Jhonen’s desk, but with a good enough reason. The operation was far too dangerous for his liking. If there was the slightest slip up, Jhonen would end up dead, or worse. He couldn’t handle that.


“I need those documents Hex. It was hard enough getting our hands on them the first time.”


“You shouldn’t go.”


“I HAVE to go. You’re way too conspicuous to take up a covert manoeuvre, they’ll suspect something.”


Silence. Hyraxe knew better than to speak. There was no doubt, if it ever came down to it, that he could outmatch Jhonen in a physical fight, but this was a battle of the mind, and it was his territory.


“I want those papers back Hex.”


“Then why don’t you look for them yourself?” he retorted, nostrils flaring in a spark of anger.


This was a warning, a threat. Hyraxe was renowned for his bursts of rage. They were dangerous. He was dangerous.


“Why do you have to be such a child?!”


That did it. The shorter man leapt from his bed, yellow eyes flashing treacherously. The two met with a furious clash of fists pounding into flesh. The fight was purely feral, scratching, kicking even biting. There were no rules, just unadulterated fury. Fingers clawed at eyes, knuckles slammed into jaws. Bruises bloomed like violet flowers, watered by fresh blood from broken skin.


“You never think of anything else but what you want.”


They were grappling, arms in vice grips on shoulders, eyes burning furiously into one another. Tan skin struggled against porcelain, black hair pressed against blonde as they stared each other down.


“I’m not supposed to worry when you pull one of your stunts. When it’s done your way it’s okay, cause you’re the most important one around here aren’t you?”


“Shut up!” he roared, straining the muscles in his arms and pinning the fairer man to the wall. The dark feeling was starting to creep its way up his chest, Lady Black trailing her fingers along his shoulder.


Jhonen simply went on, spitting his words out with venomous distaste. A trail of blood streaked across his face from an unseen injury. The left side of his lip was beginning to swell.


“You can’t let things go as planned. You always have to interfere somewhere, just so you can feed your insecurities.”


Hyraxe let out a dangerous snarl, shoving his arm against his opponent’s neck. Another murky pang in his heart. Lady Black had wrapped an arm around his waist.


“You know I’m right Hex. That’s why you’re so angry. That’s why you can’t stand to have me leave the base; you can’t have me do anything on my own because you’re just too much of a coward to go at it alone.”


Another warning shove. Hex was holding back.


“You don’t even know who you are Hex. You act like a big hero, you love the way people throw themselves at you.”


The last line was tainted with heavy resentment and Jhonen twisted his head to the side, as though to avoid looking at the very creature who had committed such an atrocity. Lady Black whispered into his ear, words of pain and misfortune.


“But under all that glamour you’re nothing Hex. You don’t know how to love yourself. You don’t know how to love anyone.”


With that, knee connected with chest. Hyraxe stumbled back, winded, shoulders heaving with the effort of his anger. Jhonen simply turned, and walked out, closing the door calmly behind him.


You don’t know how to love anyone.


An excruciating howl wrenched itself from his chest as his body began to jerk violently. Cry after cry released itself from his lips, resonating in the air of the tiny room, splitting through the walls of the dingy apartment. His vision blurred as tears took him over, slipping down a face that was starting to swell on one side. The slight sting in his split lip was ignored, overwhelmed by the agony that was eating at him from the inside. Lady Black swooped down to devour his anguish, wrapping him tight in her embrace, feeding the remorse with her bitter heart.


She was relentless, stabbing at his gut with a cold vengeance, as the words continued to circle his thoughts. Guilt ran into hatred, which melted into sorrow. His emotions continued to shift vigorously. As one feeling died, another grew to take its place. He fisted his hair, tearing at the black locks in distress. Muscles continued to constrict viciously, snapping his limbs to his sides before letting them fly again, thrashing about on the floor. Black purred contentedly, fulfilling her promise of relief as she drew away from him, numbing the pain, and everything else.


Hyraxe was all too familiar with her ways. She went by many names, and slept in the hearts of many. But it was always the same Lady Black. Part of everything and nothing, she would come running to those who called, lulling them into an unfeeling slumber. Giving them the final push over the edge of a building, or guiding the hand that held the knife. Lady Black. He had never let her get this close.


Slowly, slowly, the tears ran dry, leaving behind dark stains on his features. The cries grew muffled as his voice went hoarse; his body stopped moving several hours later, when all his energy was spent. Amber eyes stared blankly into space, even as the door opened.


He shifted slightly as a warm hand wrapped itself round his waist from behind. A wet face pressed into his neck, tears drying on his skin. They stayed like that for awhile, silent except for an occasional sniffle on Hex’s part.


“They’re in the closet.”


Jhonen leant forward, breath tickling his ear.


“They’re not important.”


Hyraxe turned to face him, meeting the emerald eyes with his own.


“What you said…you were right.”


The older boy touched his face softly, before tucking a stray strand of black behind his ear. It was a careful gesture. A loving one.


“I know I was. But that’s why I’m here.”


They lay there, together. For how long, they did not know. But as they lay, it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did.


© 2009 Scaramouche

Author's Note

This was written in a span of around 30 minutes, minus the time taken for the first two attempts. I would be very glad if you could notify me of any mistakes regarding spelling or grammar etc. Feel free to review as you wish. [Though my usual warning of "No chatspeak and proper sentences." applies. This is a literature site for Bob's sake.]

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Added on April 21, 2009
Last Updated on May 13, 2009




I will do the fandango. more..

Night Hex Night Hex

A Story by Scaramouche