What Makes a Monster

♱Eighty-Seven♱

The current worsens, nearly sucking Wallie and Soran in too. They stumble away holding each other. The shield around them shatters like broken glass, revealing Vashna. A flash of light from the portal extinguishes the flames of the city. Dark clouds over the sky are dragged into the vortex. Unborn scream among the streets as the vilis is literally sucked out of them, leaving their husks on the ground.

"Soran!" Wallie calls, glancing to his hands. The light is leaving him, being taken with the rest. "Soran, listen, I can make you human!"

Soran stiffens. Eyes wide. Un-breathing and pale as snow.

"Do you want that?" Wallie frantically looks between the closing portal and Soran. He gives a sad smile. "I wish you had more time to think about it, but it's now or never!"

He takes Soran's trembling hands. "What do you want?!"

Soran wouldn't need time even if they could take it. What he has always wanted can now be given. There's only a brief moment, one where he asks himself if he's worthy, if this is a chance he is allowed to take. Is he not a monster? Is he not deserving of this fate?

But the hope remains, the one that pushes through the dark thoughts.

"I want..." Soran whimpers, uncertainty twists in his mind, but still, he desperately nods. "I want to be human!"

Wallie smiles; the last sight Soran sees before the same bright light from earlier appears. Warmth encircles him, courses through his veins. There's a warm prick, hot needles in his veins then they sooth. He feels it, vilis leaving him to join the rest, disappearing into an endless void that he always felt was once within him. Something familiar yet always at a distant settles. There's an overwhelming sense of comfort.

~~~~~~

When he next opens his eyes, Wallie is in his arms, laying among the debris of Vashna under a clear night sky. He heaves a breath like none before. His eyes struggle to focus. Sounds are dull. The taste of ash is strong. Wallie rests in his arms, but when he looks at him, it's different. There's no hunger, no sense of lumen and the constant, insatiable need to consume. Then his stomach growls, a twisting pain and he smacks his dry lips together.

"Soran? A-Are you...alright?" Wallie lifts his head. He presses his hands to Soran's cheeks. "Your eyes!"

"My eyes?" He croaks when sitting up. Exhaustion settles in his bones like he's never felt before.

Wallie peers about then points to a nearby shop with a shattered mirror leaning against the broken walls. "Look!" he exclaims.

Soran tries to focus, finding that his sight isn't what it once was. The reflection staring back at him is somehow familiar, but not. The wounds are gone, but once searing blood red eyes are now a warm burgundy. Once pale skin like snow has warmed, rosey cheeks, rounded ears and no fangs.

Soran pokes at his own face then looks at Wallie. For the first time, he doesn't notice the lumen or crave for it like a rabid dog. He senses it, the warm light, but that's it. He's thirsty, but it's not the same. He's hungry, but it's not the same. He's tired, but it's not the same.

"I'm human," he whimpers, dragging Wallie in for a kiss and another and another. Each one desperate and grateful all at once. He cradles Wallie like a gem; feeling his own sore muscles bark back at him. He never thought he'd be so grateful towards feeling pain.

"I'm human," he repeats as if Wallie needs to hear it.

Wallie sighs in relief, combing Soran's hair. "And you're...really ok with that?"

"Bit late to ask now."

They separate. Wallie caresses his cheeks. They're warm. He peers into his eyes, noting the red encircling his irises, just a little of what they once were. And yet they're just as enticing, just as strong, if not more so because there's hope and love and wonder and relief like no other.