title: to a beautiful world
type: random drabble
notes: eh... this is what I portray in my head when playing Chopin's Nocturne Op. 55. It isn't that elaborate of course, since I have very little time before everything is supposed to occur when I'm playing it, but this is the main gist of it.
[the scene opens to a pale man, dressed in black entirely; black leather pants moulded sinfully tight to his hips, caressing those long legs, the ends of a broken-in leather duster flared dramatically just as he walked.]
He is walking down the street.
From far off, a distant rumbling signals impending rain. The scent of the air has noticeably changed as well, as if in a hurry to announce the arrival of rain. The wind rustled the trees almost violently in their giddy rush and a kitten mewed in distress from the bad weather. No. It felt more than just the wind and promise of a storm, it felt danger, violence, blood; the dark embrace of night and her children. Of things that could cut you down from where you stand if only a quick glance. It was something more than this world itself.
The creature mewed again, this time, a high plaintive sound, curling into a small ball, wishing that it had more protective than just huddling under some bushes. Too vulnerable to whatever that was out there.
He felt the creature's fear before even seeing it. But paid it no mind, he wasn't out to hunt, no, not tonight. Tonight... it would be something much different. Tonight, he would shed this inhumane mask. Tonight, he would end everything that he never dared to try before. Yes. It would be tonight. Everything would be different after this night, and no one would ever know. He would have walked down this street for the last time, and come dawn tomorrow, the ordinary people would once again dominate the daylights, take large confident strides down this street and never knew of his existence. Just as well that no one did. For what was he but a cowardly monster who clung on to this half life, pretending to be what he never could be?
He would have petted the frightened kitten, if it had not flinched and inched away immediately as he approached. He bit down on the hurt as lightning flashed across the night sky, illuminating his features, the ethereal and unearthly beauty that he and his kind possessed. Hair, darker than the shade of night, glinted under the streak of silver lightning, and his eyes were of a piercing blue, the multi faceted of a jewel.
The thunder grew louder, seeming to echo in his ears, all the way down to the slow thump of his heartbeat. He continued on his path, no clear motive in mind, only a clear destination. The forgiving and inescapable passage that forgot no one. Death.
The skies finally let loose, raindrops descending like tiny daggers pricking at his skin, eating away at him. He gazed up, half angry, half resigned. He wanted to rage at the unfairness. He did no wrong, yet was sentenced to this half life without trial, bitten and Turned against his will, kept like a mindless slave by a cruel Sire, broken and thrown aside like a doll. Life was a meaningless routine for him. This was a chance of release, to escape from that prison and run to a place where he could never find him. Yes, his choice was right. He was meant to die right from the start. All that mattered was when.
The rain seemed like pure salvation. It was the only thing that made him alive now, so entirely shut off from the rest of the world in his attempt to flee. He could not risk being caught now, not when everything was in place and he was reaching the end, the finality of his torment.
He spoke a single word, a harsh consonant, bitter laced his voice and remained a nasty taste on his tongue. It was a word of destruction, one that he sneaked from his Sire's magic books, one that would render him naught to this insane world. It was his remedy. He held his breath, fearing for the worst; would it work or was it all but a cruel joke from his sadist captor?
And suddenly the world came to a standstill for him. The rain continued their onslaught, seemingly wanting to drown everything in sight with their torrent of raindrops. The cold stole his strength and he collapsed almost gracefully to the ground, his head flung back to stare up at the never-ending sky. Everything was fading away, or was it just him losing his vision?
He laughed and it was a mirthless sound, devoid of any real pleasure that would send shivers down the spines of others were there any around to hear it. He didn't hear it, sound was empty to him as well. Heaviness draped around him like a second cloak, his limbs were too numb to move, but he felt no pain. How could it be painful, he was escaping his torment, it was his redemption.
He closed his eyes, feeling the last of the raindrops on his face, as he slowly slipped away, beyond his mortal shell...
The kitten whined, uncomprehending as the predator vanished inexplicably, leaving behind a trail of glorious butterflies, all of them pure white in color, slowly unfurling from themselves and scattering in the wind and rain.