Oneshot Collection

Liar: Keefe

Based on a tumblr prompt ("I intend to be there the minute you die.")

Saw the opportunity and took it.

TW: d//th, po/son, major character d//th, bl//d

heh

Poison.

The word ran through Keefe's mind again and again. With every beat of his heart.

His heart that he could swear was slowing down ever so slightly.

Keefe could feel himself weakening. His feet rang with each impact against the ground, and it took all of his energy to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

(he had to move, had to join them, had to fight, had to-)

The arrow had barely grazed him, but he'd seen the greenish tip. He knew what it meant.

He knew that the Neverseen never went halfway. He was not long for this world.

His sides gave a blinding spark of pain, and he stumbled, almost falling before he forced himself to continue moving.

But he was forced to skid to a halt again as a blonde figure appeared in front of him, a wicked smile on her lips.

Keefe unsheathed the sword at his side, ignoring the pain lancing through his veins like lightning.

(he had to breathe, but it was getting harder by the moment)

The poison leeched the strength from his limbs, clawing away at his resolve, and Keefe focused on channeling his energy to his arms to keep them steady. He pointed the sword at his mother, but she just laughed, as if she could see the way his hand trembled.

The way he could hardly stand.

"I intend to be there the minute you die," she told him, and fear burst through his body in swirling clouds, tainting his blood.

"More chance to take you down with me." His voice was steady, thankfully. Even though his throat was closing up from the strain of his legs supporting his body.

"And how will you do that, pray tell?" Gisela was a wolf, and he was the prey.

She was ice, and he didn't have the fire left to melt her down.

(he didn't have anything left)

His strength was gone, and despite his best efforts, his legs collapsed under him. He couldn't break his fall in time, and he landed on his knees.

But he still managed to smile up at his mother with clenched teeth, spitting, "It's a secret. You'll find out soon enough."

"I'm afraid you won't be around long enough for me to find out, my darling." Gisela's eyes danced as she knelt beside him, using the tip of a dagger to lift his chin. "Now now, where are your manners? Didn't I teach you to look at me when I speak?"

"I prefer not to retain information," he gritted out, his legs twitching as the poison reached them. His hands unclenched against his will, and he watched the sword clatter onto the ground with the grim acknowledgment that he would not be walking off this battlefield.

His knees collapsed, but he hardly felt the bark of pain as his chin slammed into the ground. Spots danced before his eyes.

"Oh, believe me, Keefe, I am well aware of that," his mother purred, standing up and smoothing her skirts. "Perhaps we wouldn't be here if that were not the case."

Keefe wanted to laugh, but it emerged as a wheeze.

(they would always end up here. it would always come back to them. to her. her, her, her, her and him and him and her and one of them dying on the ground)

"Bad luck for me, I suppose," he forced out, but it was hard to breathe and he knew that his indefinite lifespan was now counted in seconds.

If Elwin were here, he might still be saved. But he wasn't, and Keefe was alone as always.

With her.

(dying on the ground, but he was the one dying)

(this wasn't fair, but when had his life ever been fair?)

"You and the Black Swan. With your sense of good and bad." Gisela's cold blue eyes were all he could see, and Keefe wished he could move his head. He didn't want his mother's eyes to be the last thing he saw before he died.

(he'd been running from this moment his whole life, and it had finally caught up with him)

Every laugh had been too precious, and he had not savored them.

His tears had been liquid gold, and he had not recognized them.

(he'd cheated death too many times, and it had come to collect its due)

Keefe couldn't move. Not to speak. Not even to close his eyes.

Not to breathe. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't-

His vision was turning black.

"I suppose I am the villain in your little story," she mused above him, her voice drilling into his fading brain. "I am the evil murderer who will get what she deserves."

This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to live.

They were all supposed to survive.

Not her. Not her.

But she was alive and he was about to be dead.

It wasn't fair, but nothing ever was.

"But what do I deserve, Keefe?" Gisela continued, her words a constant reminder that he was still alive.

(not for long, and he'd never said goodbye)

What had been the last thing he'd said to his friends?

(Sophie had made him swear to come back)

"I promise," he'd whispered to her, letting a grin curl his lips.

("you must," she'd told him. "you will")

"I promise," he'd said, the smile fading as he looked at her one last time. He hadn't tried to drink in her appearance. To see what emotions she held safe in her brown eyes. He hadn't tried...

"I'll come back to you," he'd told her.

(he was a liar)

(it was too late)

...

They found him with blood on his lips, a final smile still decorating his face, and Sophie couldn't cry, only scream. An endless shriek pouring from her lips, tearing at her throat as she fell to her knees.

(liar, liar, liar, liar)

She was too late.

Killed off Keefe with no regrets, in fact I am laughing-

So far I've killed... Alden, Tam, Sophie, Biana, Oralie, Juline, Will, and now Keefe (twice-). I am on a roll and I will not stop-