Short Stories

Fifty-Two: Turnip

 The sun was streaming through the clouds, reflecting against the blood-splattered grass. Turnip was exhausted; he could feel his legs were starting to tremble and his eyelids stubbornly drooping. He could feel blood oozing out of his wounds, especially the sizable one on his flank. Blood dribbled down and stained his black fur and the grass. He watched his sister yowl in pain as she clutched her face, blood spilling out between the cracks of her fingers. He watched her shift over and over again as she screamed. The sound of bones cracking and screams tortured Turnip's ears. He was so tired. So tired.

The screams stopped and turned into a growl, Turnip now faced an angry black dragon. Her eyes were gouged out, no longer a shining purple, but an angry gaze of black. She spit fire at where Turnip had been, and she screamed in agony when he could not hear his screeches of pain. All she could feel was fury, the wounds on her body did not hinder her anger as she screamed her throat raw. She pulled out pieces of the earth with her blood-stained claws and flung it in every direction, hoping to hit her once-brother.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" She roared over and over again, tears and blood mixing together to create a mixture that stung her wounds. Why did it come to this? They were so happy just a while ago. Both of them stealing together, hunting together, and laughing together. When was the last time he saw her smile? He could not remember.

"Sister! Please stop!" Turnip yowled, teleporting away from a flaming piece of earth hurtling his way. Why had he told her killing was okay. It was, wasn't it? No, it's...not. Had he created this situation for himself?

"I AM NOT YOUR SISTER! YOU ARE A MONSTER!" She screamed, slamming her talons on the ground and shifting back to her original form. Crackling bone with silent screams filled the air this time. Her limp form lay on the ground, her chest stuttering as she tried to gasp for air. She couldn't move, her energy was too drained. Turnip stared at her in disbelief. What had he done?

"Sister..." Turnip edged closer to his sister, reaching out a bloody paw.

"Don't touch me." She whispered. Turnip put his paw down and looked mournfully at her.

"That's right, Turnip," she rasped as the townsfolk gathered around the two cats, "look at what you created. A monster."

"I..."

"You taught me to steal from the good people and how to kill. This is your fault, Turnip. You killed so many already, why don't you kill me too." She rasped, before hacking a pool of blood. Her breathing sounded clogged with pain and blood. Her voice filled with anger and grief at her once brother. His tears coated his own purple eyes as he flinched from her comment. He had killed many, but why? To steal something he didn't need?

Turnip could no longer watch and vanished into the ground, teleporting off to another world. The sister laughed, no longer feeling his presence, and pain wracked her lungs as blood filled her lungs. She cried and laughed, a twisted mixture of fury, anger, and sadness. He always ran. He was a coward. She was not.

"Always running from your problems... I'm sorry, brother., for trying to kill you. Forgive me." She whispered as a healer pushed her way through the concerned crowd. She knew he could not hear her, so why bother? Perhaps he could still hear her from dimensions away. It was not possible, but maybe it was. Maybe it was.