Mortuus plumis

by CanIBeACynic

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Slice of Life, Dark, Alternate Universe, Human, Anthro
Length: 1139

No matter how much you try, the past always seems to creep up on you.

Every week once, I will wake up in the middle of the night, and I will feel that I am in another world. But the moment dawn breaks, I open my eyes and find myself back on the bed.

But one Tuesday morning, I found a feather at my doorstep.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-12-18 08:18:36 UTC

Sequuntur somnia

Time seems to have stopped.

A smell of napalm seems to coat my body, the pull of an unseen force sending me downward in a terrible dance of red and black. My hair was now charred, burnt by whatever incendiary product that was thrown in my face, dark black blobs of former fibre floating through the air. Behind the burnt smell was a metallic sting, like a puddle of iron in my mouth that burnt my throat. I tried to swallow, but all I felt was a terrible strike of pain that shot through my throat, my neck, to my chest, and the pulse reached my heart. The sudden pain shot like a lightning bolt, my body convulsing to turn upwards only to feel even more pain. It felt like I was riddled with bullets, the only part that missed was my head. I forced myself to stay conscious; feeling the broken bones in my body tremble and shake, but I moved anyway. I opened my bloody mouth in a futile attempt to scream in pain, to yell for help or any other form of assistance. But I knew that none will come.

I blinked once, and the sky opened up to me. The sky was a beautiful, yet strangely calm, violet tinge that seemed malicious in some way. My eyes were barely open, but I could see the figures of five...no, six winged creatures, with manes of the rainbow, floating in the middle of the sky, wings sprouting from their backs.

Rainbow.

Why did that word stand out so much for me?

In some strange instinct, either out of desperation or panic, I convulsed my back muscles in a spasm and to my surprise and pain, a shower of charred feathers coated the air around me. The feathers, though stained as black as the hair on my fringe, were formerly cyan as its roots showed and most likely, was once attached to me. I forcefully twisted my head to the left, where I was met with a gruesome sight. It was a wing, which seemed to be once lustrous as a light blue sky, but now desecrated terribly. The feathers seemed to be burnt and shrivelled, the wing-tip clipped and the resulting stump stained a disgusting charcoal black. Whatever that was left of the patagium was now nothing but a charred stick, black bones barely kept together. Feathers from what remained of the wing was being seemingly ripped out from their stems by the wind, creating a storm of shrivelled black blobs. But what was the worst was the smell that, upon my forced gaze upon it, took the liberty of forcing itself up my nose. It was a terrible smell that I could not describe, but it was nothing but a death sentence to me.

Disgusted, I spat a mouthful of blood to the world below me, some of it accidentally made it onto the burnt wing. The extra amount of blood further stinging my appendage, I forcibly flipped my head back towards the sky. The violet had turned darker, a huge black entity washing over it. My eyes began to close, the cold yet calm whisper against my ear, saying that it will take away my pain, once and for all. I knew what that meant. I have went through this before. Other lives, other circumstances, other worlds. The whisper grows stronger, urging me over. Pulses of pain strike through me, each ache burning painfully through my body. But behind the pain that I felt every time wind brushed my wounds, when I close my eyes, something stronger burnt a deep pain within me, burning deep in my soul. It burns, aches for something...and it hurts.

It hurts...

It hurts so much...

I force my eyes open. The violet colour in the sky had now faded into a terrible, stained purple that seemed to be engulfed by a black entity. From my destroyed ears I could barely hear a sound, but I could feel it vibrate through my bones.   Screams, perhaps.  My blurred vision could barely see the rainbow from the sky come crashing down, separating into colours of pink, white, yellow, orange and what ever flame that engulfed them. Grief, perhaps.  The rainbow fell from the sky, shattered by some strange unearthly being. Sobs, perhaps. The smell of burnt feathers filled the air around me once again. There were beings in that rainbow, broken into pieces. Falling with me, dying with me. I hear their souls cry out in pain, begging for the end.

For a centisecond, a thought flashed into my head. Two great, beauteous wings sprouting from my back, a colourful, non-charred and non-bloodstained mane flashing the colours of the rainbow as I scoop all of them from the air, letting them slowly descend to the ground. Saving the day, like I always did.

That was how the story was supposed to go, right?

But no, here I was. Dead in the air, my wings cut, my hair burnt and red, my legs broken and destroyed, blood pouring from every pore like sweat, everything completely and utterly destroyed, save for my face. Every instinct for me to spread my wings only struck more pain into my pre-carapace, every thought of the faceless 'friends' that I could have saved stoking the flame within me.

All your fault

I could have done it differently. If I just wasn't so rash...

All your fault

If I had listened to her, I wouldn't have died...

ALL YOUR FAULT

"N-No. . ."

ALLYOURFAULT

ALLYOURFAULT

ALLYOURFAULT

A flash of violet. A huge gust of wind blows me further back, forcing my eyes shut. My shattered bones creak and shake as my body is thrown backwards, deeper into what ever abyss awaited me below. When I opened my eyes again, the sky was completely black. All sense of violet shades that once painted the sky was gone, and I swore that I heard laughter. A pain suddenly shoots up from my chest to my head, spreading the ache all around my body. There had to be a way out from this nightmare, there had to be an exit. I clung desperately to the last strings of life that held my psyche together, the blood filling my lungs slowly, painfully, filling me with a calming dread that I knew was to come. I could sense it, beyond the extreme pain, beyond the clipped wings, beyond the tattered feathers, a cold, calm stream of tranquillity awaited me. It has been there from the start; I only wished that it was a mirage. It was inviting, the sadness turning to something warmer.

One small dip, that wouldn't hurt, would it?

.o.e

I close my eyes for the last time.

C.m.

I swallow the blood into my lungs as my heart stops.

Sleep.