Ander - Part 6: Subchapter 90
90
He knew this darkness. He knew this cold. He had been here before, but when? He couldn't remember...
"Your blood is a lie." That voice was right behind him. He could feel the warmth of its breath on his neck, smell the fetid stench of blood and rot invading his nostrils. Ander spun around and came face to face with the horror of his blackest dreams, a horror he had hoped to never see again.
Ander stumbled back, clapping a hand to his mouth to stifle a scream.
It was Banno. There was an arrow sticking out of his right eye, covered in blood. It bubbled up from the empty socket like a fountain, drenching the side of his face in a liquid mask of red. The other half had split into a demonic smile; dozens upon dozens of razor sharp teeth meshing together. It spread farther and farther, much farther than any smile should be able to reach, until the cheek tore wide open all the way to the back of his neck. A waterfall of blood surged out of his mouth, flickering from red to white and back to red again. His fur was absolutely slick with it, sticking to his body in sticky tangles. His foot was missing below the ankle, and it was gushing a steady stream into the darkness below. The only thing left not covered in blood was his left eye, a pitch black spot of darkness peering out from between the bubbling torrents.
"Your blood is a lie, Ander." Steam plumed from the back of his throat and passed through the ropes of blood and drool stretching between his monstrous teeth.
Ander shook his head, trying to tell himself that it wasn't true, that he didn't have a choice, that he had done the right thing.
Snowflakes fell from the non-existent sky: thousands of them, millions of them, swirling down from a place where no clouds could ever be. They landed in the bubbling mess of blood and gore and quickly disappeared, melting away to nothing.
Just as Banno was doing.
Ander stepped back, feeling like he was about to throw up. He tried to turn his head and wretch into the void, but he simply could not look away.
Banno was disintegrating before his very eyes. His ear melted off and fell onto his shoulder with a sickening plop. The left side of his face sagged down and tore open across his forehead, allowing his skull to peek through as a bloody white line. And still he wore that demonic smile, blood and snow pouring out from between teeth as large and as wide as the bars of a cage.
Let me look away... Ander begged to whatever force was controlling this dream. Please, please just let me look away!
Ander snapped his eyes shut, but the sounds were still there: a wet, melting sound, like meat stew that had been left to cook over an open fire for too long, and was now boiling over, spilling onto the ground. What would he see if he were to open his eyes right now? A heaving mass of blood, flesh and fur, falling apart even as it reached for him with broken fingers, calling his name? Something even worse? He could hear the wet snuffling, the pitter patter of blood, and... and something else. Something beneath it all. Soft and sad, but growing louder by the second. The sound of...
A woman crying?
Ander didn't want to open his eyes, but, as was the way with dreams, he was unable to stop himself. They simply opened by themselves, letting in the dark light of his next demon.
It was Mother. She was down on her knees, crying over Father's corpse. She had folded her arms across his chest and bowed her head. If it wasn't for the tears streaming down her face, or the way her shoulders heaved with every gasp for breath, her posture might have been one of prayer.
Every hitch and wail was like a spear to Ander's heart, every sniffle and moan a bitter cut in his flesh.
He reached out to her, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do. But what he did know was that he was their son. It was his duty to be there for her, to comfort her, to share in her grief, because no one, no one should have to go through something like this alone.
"Mother?" He touched her shoulder and her head snapped up. Her eyes were bloodred and she had her fangs bared in a furious snarl.
"Don't call me 'Mother', you freak!" she screamed, spittle flying from her mouth. "You are not my son! You were never my son!"
"But, Mother, I -"
She slapped his hand away. "Don't come near him! You're the reason he's like this! You're the one who took him away from me!"
"No, Mother! I swear, I didn't do it!"
"You've taken Banno... You've taken Kadai... You've taken Hezzi! What more will you take from me before you're satisfied?"
"I don't - I don't want anything from you! It's not my fault, Mother! I never wanted this! I never wanted any of this! I never wanted to hurt you or anyone else! I just wanted a home, can't you understand that? I just wanted a home, a place where I could feel safe, a place where I could feel loved!"
"Love? You don't want love! What you want is death and suffering!"
"No!"
"You've taken everything from me, everything I love and hold dear, and still you ask for more?"
"Mother, please! You're not listening! You..." Ander's voice died in his throat as he realized what was happening to her. Her eyes were red because they were filling up with blood, slowly bulging out of their sockets. He could actually see the veins inside growing darker and darker, turning black, spreading to every corner.
"I have nothing left to give except for my blood! Do you want it!? Here! You can have it!"
"Mother! No!!"
She hooked her claws deep into her eyes and they simply exploded, showering blood all over Father's body, but she didn't stop there. She raked her fingers straight down, cleaving her face open all the way to her muzzle. Shreds of skin and fur hung loosely against her face, wet and dripping.
"Here!!" she shrieked, holding her bloodsoaked hands out in front of her, reaching for him. Blood spurted from her dead and empty eye sockets with every heartbeat.
Empty One.
"I don't want it!" Ander screamed back. "I don't want any of it!"
Father's eyes flew open. They were pale and cloudy, consumed entirely by death's touch, and Ander fell back in shock, gasping, trying to scream, but unable to find his voice.
Father turned his head to look at his second son, and the dry, crackly noise his neck made was like an old rope being twisted by strong hands. "Then why do you kill?" he asked. His breath reeked of disease and rotting meat.
Ander wanted to tell him that he didn't kill, that he would never kill, but he couldn't, because he did. There were no excuses, no justifications that could make that simple fact go away. All he could do was watch as Mother's blood flowed over his sunken chest, pooling between his ribs and flowing down his sides.
"Why do you kill, Ander?" Father demanded. His voice was loud and deep, but not the same as it was in life. It had a dark undercurrent to it now, like the rustle of insectile wings beneath a layer of dead leaves. He reached out with an emaciated hand, more bone than flesh, the once strong fingers now covered by the thinnest layer of dry skin and fur, capped with chipped and broken claws.
Ander felt a tear running down his cheek. In this cold, dark place, it was as hot as a burning coal. "I'm sorry, Father..." he whispered. "I don't know why I kill. It just... I had no choice. I had to do it for..."
For...?
"You didn't kill them, Ander." A gentle whisper in his ear, warm and soft. It was a voice he knew. "I did."
"Kiana?"
She wrapped her arms around his chest and rested her head against his shoulder. He could feel her tears, just as warm as his own. "Please, Ander. If you must blame, don't blame yourself. Blame me. And if you must hate, don't hate yourself. Hate me."
"No, I don't hate you, Kiana! I could never hate you! I love you!" Ander took her by the hand, shocked by how cold she was. Her fingers were like blocks of ice! He kissed them, one by one, sharing the warmth of his breath.
"I love you, too, Ander. More than you know. That's why I can't stand to see you suffer like this. I can't just sit back and do nothing while you pile burden after burden upon yourself. I see how it weighs on your heart. I see the cracks, and I know you can't keep going like this. One day it will shatter, and if you do that, Ander... if you break your own heart, mine will surely follow. That's why..."
She pulled away from him. Her hands disappeared. He could no longer feel the warmth of her face against his back. Ander turned around.
Kiana was down on her knees, cradling a ram's horn in her arms, gently rocking it back and forth as though it were a newborn baby. "Please, Ander," she said, smiling warmly. "Let me carry this burden for you."
Blood dripped from the mouthpiece in a steady patter, while snow poured from the other end. It piled up in her lap, a gentle whisper in the absolute silence of this dark, empty world, but it wasn't stopping. It filled every fold in her dress and cascaded down in multiple streams, quickly covering her legs and rising up to her waist. She was shivering and her breath was pluming from her nose in quick bursts of mist, but she was still smiling. She was happy to suffer this pain, just so he wouldn't have to.
"Kiana, no!" Ander screamed, certain that the horn would just keep spewing that white poison forever and ever, until she was completely buried. He reached for it, intending to rip it away, but the thing she had cradled in her arms wasn't a horn at all. It was something else entirely. It was...
An egg?
It was smooth to the touch. Warm. It almost seemed to pulse beneath his palm, like there was a tiny heartbeat in there.
"Is this...?"
She nodded. A single tear ran down her cheek and stopped just short of her lips. She was smiling so beautifully. Ander reached out, maybe to wipe the tear away, maybe just to touch her, maybe just to hold her close and feel her warmth one more time, but the moment his hand left the egg, he saw that he had left a bloodred palm print on its shell. The sight of it froze him to his core. He had seen this once before, this very same thing. An egg with a red handprint on its shell.
"Don't call me 'Mother', you freak!" Shekka called from the darkness somewhere at his back. "You're not my son! You were never my son!"
Her words were cold. They seeped into the very air. No longer did dainty snowflakes drift down in wavy patterns from an empty sky. It was coming down hard now, blowing in fast, almost sideways, striking his face like needles.
"Kiana!" he shouted, but he could barely hear his own voice over the roar of the wind.
"You're not my son! You were never my son!" Still she was shrieking somewhere in the dark, searching with her empty eyes even while the snow piled up around them, rising up above their knees, slowly burying them alive.
"Kiana!" Ander couldn't see her. There was too much snow blowing into his face, making his eyes water. The whole world had been reduced to flickering mess of black and white. He reached blindly into the shadows, but she wasn't there. "Kiana!"
He forced his way through the snow, fighting with every ounce of energy he had left. It was all the way up to his waist now, still rising, burning cold, making him gasp for air.
"Ander!"
"Kiana!" He reached out and his fingers closed over the familiar shape of her hand. He pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight, protecting her from the cold and the dark as best he could.
Where is the baby? Is the baby okay? Our child...
"You're not my son! You were never my son!" Her voice was far away, muffled by the thunder of the storm. "You're not my son! You're not my son!"
Ander tried to lift Kiana out of the snow, but it was no use. It was far too heavy and far too cold. It sapped the strength right out of his arms. The best he could do was to lift her up just far enough so they were eye to eye.
"Ander!"
"Kiana..." The weight of the snow pressing in on their bodies was so great he could barely breathe. But if this was to be his final breath, he was glad he could share it with the one he loved.
As the snow covered their shoulders and rose above their necks like a frozen tide, their lips came together in a kiss as warm as the world was cold. With the snow pressing in on all sides, crushing them together, Ander could feel her every movement, down to her fingertips on the back of his neck, the soft caress of her ankle against his calf, and even the rhythm of her heart, beating against his own. Everything around them was freezing cold, but the space they shared with each other was blessedly warm. He could feel it emanating from deep inside her, her love and devotion.
That's where our baby is... he thought as the snow covered first their muzzles, then their eyes, entombing them together inside the freezing darkness.
He could still hear Shekka's voice, screaming through a throatful of snow. "You're not my son! You're not my son! You're not my son!!"
But it didn't seem very important anymore. Because...
"YOU'RE _MY_SON!!"
A blinding shard of light pierced through the darkness as the snow was swiped off their faces by a familiar hand. It grabbed Ander by the neck and started to pull him up. He tightened his grip around Kiana's waist, and although the freezing powder tried to suck them back down, it was no match for this new force, and both of them erupted from the snow in a white explosion. Kiana held on for dear life as they shot upwards like an arrow, piercing the emptiness just like the light had pierced their tomb, and it was as he looked over her shoulder that Ander saw the last of this dark, black world.
It was Shekka, standing all alone in a sea of darkness.
Empty One.
"You're not my son..." she said, crying into her hands. "I don't have any sons... I don't have _anyone_anymore..."
Ander reached out to her, but she was too far away, and receding further into the darkness with every passing second. He called out to her, but he had no voice. Everything around him, all sight and sound, was being drowned out by the piercing white light, until all that was left was Kiana's warm embrace and the hand on the back of his neck, pulling them back, pulling them -
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