Mdzs Oneshots

Calls of the Dead (Unspoken Words 2)

With that Jiang Cheng left, following his brother where their carriage was idling. That's when he realised- Wei Ying acted like he was dead.

The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks and was all he could think of despite the presence of his brother beside him, alive and breathing. Wei Wuxian was dead. He meant it figuratively, of course, but he had no idea how close he was to the truth. No idea how close he'd have come to breaking his brother's heart, in another world of his. But as he boarded the carriage, he found that they were joined by another. The Second Jade of Lan silently boarded, not bothering to spare him a glance, settling quietly at the back. Stifling his protests of it, Jiang Chang looked to Wei Wuxian, who looked somewhat calmer with him at the back. Nodding approvingly to himself, he gestured for the driver to start riding.

As the carriage pulled away, his thoughts were drawn out by the loud chattering of hooves and wheel scraping against the road. Since neither of them spoke, the journey fell into odd silence. Most of the journey blotted and blurred before Wei Ying's eyes, even as the carriage rolled out to Lotus Pier. For once, the husky whispers in the back of his mind seemed to quieten, quelled by his presence at the back. But at the same time, all he could think of was the Second Twin Jade, the feelings he stirred within him, the hope. The hope that had vanquished before his eyes months ago, only to be resuscitated by him.

Yet at the thought of him, doubts filled his mind, and his voice grew more vicious, nipping away at his false confidence, laying his fears bare. The absence of his core, too, gnawed away at him. A stark reminder that he'd never be worthy of him. You're worthless, it hissed, phantom fingers scraping his ear, as sharp as bones, you're nothing without your core. You're weak, too weak to even try. The headaches started again, even as he stared out of the window, hoping to be distracted. But the voices only grew worse.

The absence of his core gnawed away at him, the intoxication of power from Jiang Cheng beside him didn't help, either. Was this how it truly felt, being normal? With magic so close, yet so far away, something that eluded your grasp no matter how much effort you put in, how close you bordered on it. Maybe that's why there were so many imitations, he thought, why so many people pretended to have it. The longer he travelled, the more his head spun. The world grew even more blurry, oscillating beneath his feet. Just as the carriage door opened, he pushed up on unsteady footing, stepping forward and... falling.

The corporeal world melted away before his eyes, replaced by a swirling abyss. Cold air, like murky, swept against his skin as he fell, going down and down. He couldn't feel himself, his limbs hanging down lifelessly as he shut his eyes, willing whatever was coming to take him under. Numbly, he could feel his thin body crashing against a surface, shattering him from within before plunging him under.

In the depths of the murky liquid, Jiang Cheng was there. Just before the Fall of Lotus Pier. Around him, Lotus Pier descended into the depths of hell, fire and smoke consuming each building, smoke making him heady. As Jiang Cheng faded before him, he couldn't contain the screams wrenching out of his throat, going on for what felt like hours instead of the mere hours it was. He could only watch in horror as Yu Ziyuan, the woman he'd long deemed infallible dropped to her knees before him in slow motion. She looked drowned, stained in blood, he eyes dead and glossy as she gave him one last command. "Run!" And run he did, until his feet gave way and he plopped helplessly to the ground. Before being dragged backwards by his ankles into nothingness.

By the time he emerged again, his surroundings had changed again.

The tench of rotting filled the air, hanging with a heavy mist that obscured Wei Wuxian's vision, stinging his eyes. Eyes that widened in horror at the realisation, his heart pounding faster every second. This wasn't the first time he'd been here. And the last time he'd been, it hadn't been pretty or nice. The memory of ripping half-decayed flesh from a pile of rotting limbs and sinking his teeth into them before hearing a sickening 'crunch' didn't stray far from his thoughts. He grimaced and found the ashy taste of uncooked human flesh if you could even call it that on his lips again. The thought of it inadvertently wrenched his insides, squeezing it as nausea hit him. A stream of stinking acid scorched through his oesophagus, leaving the acrid taste in his wasted mouth.

When was the last time he ate? Wei Ying couldn't remember. The last time he remembered properly eating was before. Before he learnt to call before he was thrown into there. But that could have been weeks or days ago- neither of which he had an impression of. The haze in front of him grew heavier and headier and had taken to becoming a swirling mass. I thrummed with grotesque power, brushing against him in shivers. The corpses near it riled up, dragging their ragged figures with them. Their eyes were glassy and unblinking, hair matted with dirt and dust that seemed abundant here. Blood oozed from their mouths, twisted in agony, all of which tortured him with unwanted voices.

Wei Wuxian slung back, trembling in fear. He couldn't do this. Not again. This wasn't real, he thought to himself, This can't be real! But as he tried to soothe himself, the simmering resentment only got stronger, its tendrils pulling him closer even as his insides slackened. The corpses that faced him, too, got stronger, glaring at him with their unfocused eyes. Their voices reverberated through his mind, a sea of shouts and screams, o pleas, threats and demands. They seemed to multiply every second, sending a pang of pain shooting through his mind, deafening him. But as they bounced off and in his mind, all he could think of was how tired he was. He was tired, so, so tired. Exhaustion seeped into bones even as anxiety thrummed and battled within him. It's not real, he told himself, as spots began reappearing before his eyes, and the bodies in front of him grew both cleared and hazier. It's not real.

Unlike the last time, he didn't fight back. Instead, the corpses swarmed at him, clawing and testing him as their voices resounded against his ears while he drowned in exhaustion and pity, suffocated by spirits. All in complete oblivion to the world around him.

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A/N: 1147 words! As I promised, the second part of Unspoken Words. I have the draft for the third chapter sitting in my notebook- as well as a few other ones....any short scenes you guys wanna read?