i’ve been both a saint & a viper
He feels them stirring as uncertainty clouds the sharp features of his worn face. They flicker like a flame in the electric blue of his eyes, burning his insides as the whispers fight to be heard. The stallion swallows hard, grimacing as his throat tightens, attempting to keep the demons from bursting forth and taking over. It’s a bear, menacing in size and girth, and he wonders briefly if it is the universe answering his prayers to send him to his grave.
You’ll live forever. Forever.
The blackness of the cave becomes a bit brighter with the movement of the vines from the bear’s mouth - he swallows again, unmoving as he meets it’s toothy smile. Somehow it's dark eyes are not feral and wild; they hold something soft and gentle - familiar. The grizzly says it’s name and his breath catches there in his throat for a moment, a pause in his mannerisms as if he is trying to digest her words. Keeper.
“Keeper.” He says her name aloud, breathlessly, as if he had been waiting for her since the moment of their last encounter.
Perhaps he had.
Kill.
They ravage him then - screaming and shouting and clawing - feeling the weakness inside him and barreling through the wall he tries so hard to keep them at bay. The stallion’s neck curls and a gutteral sound leaves his ebony mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as he wills the whispers into silence. He tosses his head with the effort, swallowing their so-tempting commands. Kill. He can feel their shadows licking at his legs, howling beneath his jaw and nipping at his throat.
Long moments of inner silence pass and finally his eyes dare to open; when they do he is, in fact, met with the familiar face of a mousy little mare that - despite his warnings - continues to come towards him, eyes alight with happiness. His own heart leaps at the sight of her, but he remains reserved and cautious. She reaches towards him breathlessly, the dark of her muzzle stretching to meet his own. For a moment he considers this, the muscles in his neck relaxing so that he could eagerly feel the softness of her mouth against his own, inhale the scents of the outside world that she brings, and perhaps find rest.
But they do not let him forget their presence.
Paint the walls with her blood.
He winces at an unseeable pain, closing his eyes abruptly, bringing his chin to his chest with a vigorous snort. “You’re not safe here,” he repeats with an unsteady voice, eyes still tightly shut as his hooves click on the smooth stone ground, backing away from her and further into his cave.
They repeat their favorite word, resounding in his head. Kill.
His own thoughts find him momentarily, in the midst of their overwhelming voices that drip with temptation. Kill me.
He’s met with ominous laughter.
Balto
@[keeper]
ugh i love them!