Saturday, January 24, 2004

Shadow Play 1stChapter. (Unfinished)
~*~(Light Shounen-ai/Some blood-violence)~*~

“Sigyn… Sigyn!” A sing song voice whispered upon stale air. Where was he? He had to be here. Loki could smell the sweet sent of hay and the warm comforting scent of the young man, Sigyn. Fingers grasped tightly around the door’s haft, yanking firmly. It would not budge. Why!? Why wouldn’t it open? What was blocking his way, other than the sting of tears that rained down the fair flesh? Red rimmed eyes fluttered open as he glared harshly upon the barn’s door. Sweat beaded down the silken locks brushing against the side of his face. With another forced pull the door swung open, creaking upon rusted cogs. Stumbling forward Loki fell to the earth; soil puffed and rose about his tiny frame. “SIGYN!” he screamed voice sharp and mouth dry.
As the dust began to clear there was no sign of the other; Just the bitter-sweet taste of newly settled straw. Pushing himself to his feet the young boy gazed about in a flurry of madness. Soon it passed, Sigyn was not here. A shudder ran down his spine splintering through his entire body and soul. Suddenly he bolted to his right where a pile of hay lay. Digits searched along the bent cords of straw, lifting a few straying strands he took a light whiff of the yellow foliage. It smelled rich of Sigyn, the honey cologne wafted through his nostrils. It WAS him; he had been here, meaning Loki wasn’t insane. “I knew it…” He whispered in a cracked voice. Knees buckled as he felt himself collapse to the barn’s floor, slumping upon his knees. The barn was hot and sticky, though this mattered little to the youth. He had, and would find Sigyn.
Feline ears flicked back against the mop of pale azure hair, drooping in a state of sadness. His light baby-blue tail slithered about his lithe frame, why did this happen? What fate decided to play a cruel joke on him? Finally he dropped forward settling against the place where Sigyn had rested. Fingers clasped the shards of straw pulling them close to his small body. Sleep over came him, drawing in his mind in a thick soot of dreamless rest. Papery-eyelids fluttered closed extinguishing the depthless violet pools, finally giving in.

Sucking in the cool night air, lungs expanded and retracted with every breath he took. Shadows followed, they reached out with their poisonous clutches. Feline ears pricked folding back against his head; he could hear ‘Them’. ‘They’ were coming, and ‘They’ would capture him. These thoughts ran through the young man’s mind, he could feel the burning fingers of darkness rake against his back. He had to run; he had to escape ‘Them.’ Those rotten beings threatened to kill Loki if he dared to follow. This was the best for his friend; Loki could not be murdered by these foul minions. So he ran, feet pressed against the soil, beating firmly yet silently against the soil. The sliver of the Moon Mother rained down her beauty, casting grey-tones along the forest’s gaping mouth camouflaging him thankfully.
Sigyn glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened. ‘They’ were gone… but where to? The shadows were a mysterious force, and could shove themselves into tiny crevices of rabbit holes and hollowed logs. Gasping for breath he almost toppled forward, stopping, though refused to allow himself that luxury. Shaking hands plotted themselves upon his knees as he bent forward, his head spinning with many thoughts. The soft silver hair along his neck bristled, those creatures were minutes away. He couldn’t rest, though his heart felt like it was about to burst. Lanky frame seeming to shudder just from the gentle breezes. His clothing tattered, from the lurching branches that nipped at him. Minor cuts littered his already battered body. He had fought the entities off many times though now he felt as if it was too late.
Eyes flickered briefly as he felt fatigue grasping him by the collar. A soft hissing sound erupted from his right. His eyes jolted into the direction, though he felt a stabbing sensation rip through the tender flesh of his left shoulder blade. Reeling he staggered forward. Baring feline fangs he snarled loudly as his hand bolted back tightening around the darkling’s neck. It squealed in terror, it was simply a lower demon though it mattered little. A loud crack was heard as Sigyn’s cat-like claws tore through the foul smelling skin, and shattered the upper vertebra. Sable blood flowed along the gaunt fingers of the young Rakshasa, oozing from the demonic creature. An audible yelp left him as he yanked the long knife like talons from his shoulder.
Flaring eyes stared hatefully upon the shadow beast, there would be more, he had to leave. There was no time to sit and play with more of these vile animals. His own crimson life flow trickled against the worn linen, streaming down his shoulder and back. Forcing himself he again drew his pace, faster, away from the moonlit forest.

An abrupt jolt came to Loki as he awoke, echoing through his mind a soul piercing scream. “Sigyn… No!” He shot up from his position upon the pile of hay. Something was wrong with his friend. Choking back tears he gazed around frightened, also dizzy from his action. “I’ve got to find him… If I don’t then…” He trailed off speaking to himself in gentle whispers. Shoes pressed lightly against the barn’s floor as he alerted himself more-so. Fingers slipped to his side searching through a small leather pouch; there was a piece of jerky and a few bits of wilted celery that he brought with him. His food had begun to wear away after the weeks that drew by. Perhaps he could find something in the barn, no he had to find Sigyn and soon. Though he knew it would be the death of him if he was not able to find anything to eat. Pushing himself from his place he searched through the ragged building.
Fathomless eyes scanned over shattered jars of what seemed to be string beans, and old potatoes. He sighed; his gaze dropped to the floor, there was nothing here. Ears flicked back against his head resting in place. Scattering into his view strands of sky-blue hair, which he did not attempt to remove. Deviating his eyes to the right he blinked a few times, a jar of what seemed to be peas. At least it was something. Reaching down his fingers slid about the mason jar. Against his back a canvas pack was strapped, it held little now, as mostly everything was food before. Quickly he shoved it into the canvas. His attention again drew along the cellar that he found. Nothing else, except rotted eggs and their shells, perhaps a raccoon had brought itself here.
It seemed as if Sigyn wasn’t aware of the food that was here, or there would be marks that would show that jars were sifted through. Why was that? It made little sense, as did the way Sigyn seemed to be running and covering his tracks.

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