Pinfeathers

Chapter 6 - Fire

Muscles. Skin. Colour. Thoughts.

Everything was fire.

You didn't act.

Athira shoved herself through the wall, straight into the bathroom. There was no trace of the apathy that had haunted her these past days, seared away by this newfound fury, this rage. The urge to reach out with her Colour and obliterate everything she touched. It filled the spaces that her missing memories no longer could, the hollows within her being she'd been struggling to cope without.

You let her do this.

She dropped the Black in shards and strode out into the hall.

The apartment was completely and utterly trashed.

The photos they'd so carefully hung were on the ground, their frames shattered, the pictures inside ripped to pieces. The furniture was destroyed, upturned and broken. Pieces of Rainbows lay scattered around the lounge room, the rug beneath it shredded and covered in stuffing from the cushions. The Saver had been drained and smashed.

Black stretched from Athira, collecting fragments of their broken home in a whirlwind of fury, sweeping it up around her and leaving it hanging, suspended in the air.

Felicity had done this. Felicity had--

Felicity did it, but she told you she was going to. She gave you a chance to stop it. You had the power. This is your fault.

Athira clutched her head, digging her fingers into her scalp like she could claw the voice straight out of her head. Like the monster wasn't crawling around inside her thoughts, that she could ignore him, but she couldn't. She knew she couldn't. He was inside her, he was her. He was--

"Hello?" came a voice from the kitchen, a person dressed in the same suit as the one outside. Keeper, the back of her mind said. Keepers, the people who were supposed to stop this from happening. "How did you get in?"

"Did you do this?" hissed Athira. Her skin was burning. She wanted to rake her nails down her forearms from the pressure building under her skin. "Did you help her?"

The Keeper held out his hands. "No, sweetie, we didn't. We're trying to figure out who did. Who is 'her'? Do you know who did this?"

"You won't be taking my revenge," said Athira. "She's mine."

Athira made to step forward, past the Keeper to continue her circuit of the house, to ensure Felicity was no longer here before she began her hunt when the Blue scattered across the floor drew her eyes.

No--not scattered. Wiped. Carefully, into letters--words.

'Come and get her.'

Beside the iridescent glow of the Blue, the bloodspatter was almost invisible.

Athira stared.

She'd seen that pattern of blood before. When she'd smashed a head against the rocky, snow-covered ground of the monastery before grabbing him by the ankle and dragging him in, screaming and fighting and thrashing.

Miela had been home.

Miela wasn't here.

A strange sound ripped its way through Athira's throat. Fists tightened. Colour clenched. The tendrils smashed through the floor, jolting through her arms. The floorboards didn't fall. The Black dissolved them.

The Keeper backed up. Athira's eyes flicked to him.

Soon, everyone will fear you. Let us take revenge together.