Do Not Go Gentle

Chapter 4

{ Winged children all, fly over the mountain wall to deliver the sky; slice its belly full wide with their warm knives. Not to the pinpricks of starlight, but to bathe in the bright blood of the world... of the world above. }
- Shearwater

〰〰〰〰

The sound of the gun is loud through my closed eyelids; its piercing bang turning any noise into shadow. The sound is loud and I feel no pain. No such feeling invades my body as the gun's backfire nearly snaps my small wrist in half, sending the gun clattering to the floor. I feel nothing. I see nothing. I hear nothing.

I am terrified to open my eyelids, for his eyes become the only color I can see. But I force myself to escape the barrage of red blaring behind my corneas. I open my eyes. I open my eyes to see that I am still in my lavished bed. I am still in my bed and someone is grabbing my wrist. I gasp, turning to see Sebastian behind me, holding my wrist and looking at me with an unreadable expression. His other hand lingers near my ear, and that's when I see that he is holding the bullet. He caught the bullet... he caught the bullet?

I swiftly turn around, angry now that my one chance at freedom has been robbed from me, just like everything else has. His unfair advantages enrage me as my eyes fill with passion.

"No, no, no! No!"

I shout, struggling to free myself from his grasp. He flicks the bullet off to the side, and I clearly see it roll of the edge of the bed as it clatters to the floorboards below. I feel as though I am watching everything I've ever cared about plummet of the edge of a cliff as that little silver bullet rolls away from me. Sebastian grabs my other hand now, pinning me to the mattress.

"No, you can't do this! I need that!"

I frantically attempt reach off to the side, the contalations I claim to have hidden inside me burning like a wildfire. The gun and its only bullet lay scattered across the wood and carpeting; my only hope at the freedom of release scattered... scattered on the floor.

"No! No! Sebastian, let me go! No! Please! Let me do it! Let me die! Take my soul! Take it now!"

My breath comes in frantic and short, tears spilling like rivers down the sides of my face. I am sobbing like a child, struggling and kicking under my captor. Everything is wrong. Nothing is alright. I am the slave. Sebastian is my master. He will have my soul. He is far stronger and I have just proven my weakness. He controlls me... and I gladly let him.

"Just let me do it! I want to die! I want to die! I want to die. I want to-"

I finally give up, letting him hold me as my sobs take over my ability to do much of anything at all. I'm gasping and crying... and I feel his grip relax. I feel his grip relax as he pulls me to him, sitting back and resting my chest to his. I sob against his white shirt. And he is so, so warm... He is so warm, and my breath begins to shake as his arms come around me, sheltering me from my own storm.

"Ciel."

I grip onto his shirt. He has never once called me by my name. He has never once called me by my name... even in the throws of passion he seemed to remain ultimately stoic. And he still does, the fire I predicted burning in his eyes the only thing that shows me anything at all.

"Why?"

He might be whispering to himself as his soft, bare fingers stroke along my hair and back.

"Because I am going to die anyway. And I do not want you to kill me."

I stutter through my whispering,

"I do not want you to kill me, I want to stay with you. You're all I have, Sebastian. I want to stay with the only one who seems to care."

I continue to cry softly as I bury my face in his chest. I know that he is a monster. I know that he cannot love. But as I said once before, I love him. I love him, and I am desperate to be released from the cage of my pride.

"You cannot love me, can you?"

No, it is foolish. He is a creture cloaked in shadow, a creature devoid of human emotion. He is a demon... a fein... a monster of limitless ferocity. He cannot help his nature. But I cannot help mine. I cannot help my nature to cling to the one thing that has given me salvation. I cannot help it.

I do not let him answer, though I know he probably wouldn't anyway. Instead, I opt into even more foolishness. Instead, I begin to beg for mercy. Instead, I begin to beg,

"Just take me, then. Eat my soul. Get it over with."

I sit up, my left hand still clinging to his shirt... my gaze falling towards the sheet below me.

"I beg your pardon?"

He sits up as well, and I know that he heard me loud and clear, for my voice was the only thing that had pierced the salty air around us.

"We'd both be better off."

I look up at him through my hair, which has now fallen further into my eyes. His eyes are swimming, full of fire and ice and rain, and through these storm clouds I can see everything he has ever thought of me.

"This is an order, Sebastian! Eat my soul, now!"

And he does not move a muscle.

The silence that presses through us after the echoes of my command have faded is louder than words. His eyes close for a brief second, and I feel as though the entire world has been cut off from me; the vacancy of that red be so intense. I let go of the white shirt he wears, letting my hand fall beside me.

Of course he cannot end me. He cannot end me until my revenge has been followed through, and that order stands above all others. We both know this, and I do not let myself begin to cry again as I understand what I am. I am an animal. I am an animal trapped in a cage, and he is dangling the rarest cut of meat right above my head. I, the animal, need that steak more than my own life, and at the very moment of its consumption is when the arrow shall pierce my heart and stop its beating.

I look away, yet I feel Sebastian's weight leave the bed. I crawl back into my original place under the covers, and rest my head on the gunless pillow. I stare at the high ceiling, my eyes tired and watering. Sebastian pulls the duvet over me, and i am enveloped in warmth as he relights the one candle that has sputtered out.

He stands and looks at me for a moment, and in that moment I do not look back, though i feel his heavy gaze upon me. He utters one last sentence before he leaves,

"I cannot."

And it is unclear to me what he is replying to. But though he expressed his 'inability' through words... we both must know that his actions tonight were not out of selfishness; for if they were, he would have eaten my soul. I once heard that demons used to be angles; perhaps a hymn my mother once told me... but I have never seen or heard of a demon who has turned down a soul just for ripening. For I have also heard that demons are selfish... and though our contracts remains in place, I chose death myself. He had no obligation to save a soul he intends to devour. Though he has stayed with me through my darkest hour his intentions are kept silent. No, demons shouldn't turn away sustenance.

Yet I hear his shoes click across the floor, and I do not ask him to stay with me again, for I do not want to feel the way I did before. I do not know if he can love me. I do not know if he can love a soul even more demonic than demons are. So I do not call out to the damned, for I am damned myself. Though I want to. I want to call out to him. I want to whisper 'stay... stay...' as I catch one last glimpse through the closing door.

I want to call out.

Stay... stay... I want to die.

I want to die.