Vicious

You don’t fear death, you welcome it. You’re punishment must be more severe. –Bane, from The Dark Knight Rises

 

Comet had never feared death; for all that she didn’t quite know just where she’d end up after her demise.

It wasn’t quite…real…to her.

Her own death, that is, not the concept itself.

For someone as long lived as she and her sister, death was something that happened to other people, not to her. Death only touched her heart and mind, it had never laid a single bony finger on her body.

That didn’t mean that she didn’t fear it coming for those that she had come to care about. Maybe that was why she so often interposed herself between one of the few that had taken residence within her heart and what, to them, would have been certain death.

For her it was merely a flesh wound.

“You don’t seem to fear those that attack your comrades,” the current enemy opined even as they danced their deadly dance, “Nor do you fear the hits that you take for them. Why is that, I wonder…”

Her opponent trailed off for a moment before something like understanding flashed in his eyes and a terrible smile grew across his face. “You don’t fear those that attack your comrades unless they actually might hit and it’s strong enough to do lethal damage. You don’t block other attacks only tho-“

Comet didn’t know why she’d let them ramble on like that before ending the battle and the enemy’s life. She didn’t know why she’d done it quite as viciously as she had either.

(And no one would ever convince her otherwise.)


I feel like this was not one of my better ones, but I looked and looked and looked at it while writing and after writing and couldn’t get it to come out any other way at the moment. I’m blaming the migraine that hovers and spikes and then dulls just enough for the story idea to annoy me enough to make me miss the migraine. (It’s that kind of day.)

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About martha0stout

I like to read and write and hang out with my family and friends. I currently live on a farm and all that such a living entails.
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