[Isaac's muscles tighten, rallying all the desperate strength and readiness they have left when Hector seems like he might lunge at him with that silvery fishing line -- and he almost lets out a strangled laugh despite himself, because this was always going to happen. Every road destined to lead to this, to Hector biding his time until he couldn't bear it anymore, couldn't take another minute watching him go unpunished by everyone but himself while the memory of Rosaly continues to eat at him, its claws in too deep in Hector for him to ever escape.
But then a beat passes and then another, the two of them still taking measure of each other, and Hector's stance hasn't shifted. Isaac watches the inky drip of blood down Hector's hand, his gaze hard and searching his face for an explanation and only finding an expression he can't place.
His lips peel back.]
Do it! [He spits the words at him, feeling too vindicated, too angry, to let himself recognize the disappointment weighing heavy in his heart.] Consummate your precious revenge, if you can!
[In the thick brush comes a sudden thrashing, interrupting him. He throws a wild-eyed glance over his shoulder, staring into darkness. Branches snap and rustle away, and in the chaos he hears an angry, rhythmic grunting and someone screaming, a woman's scream splitting the night. He can't see but he knows what he's hearing, knows it to his bones. And it goes on until he grits his teeth and can't stand it, shooting a look to Hector - Hector, the merciful - who isn't reacting to it, as if he's lost his nerve.
Just as Isaac takes a purposeful step towards the sobbing struggle, determined to put an end to human and monster, half his wish is granted. There's a harsh, wet snap of a sound -- and then nothing at all. A deathly silence that's just as piercing as the wailing that came before it.
A hulking shape slowly emerges from the shadows, dragging a limp body behind it by the leg. It stops halfway towards the trees, turning its head Isaac's way -- and when their eyes meet, lock, Isaac feels a jolt run him through, the hairs on the nape of his neck lifting. The echoes of a sharp, white fear from what could've been years ago or only yesterday throbbing in his chest. His body hasn't forgotten; maybe it never would. But while some things may never change, enough has, when Isaac draws himself up against the chill and the weight of his cloak and remembers that he's still here - that he survived on his own, stronger for it - and that he
(can't move, can't get free, screaming past a sob of futile rage locked in his throat)
would put this beast down for good. He points his dagger at the demon. Even from a distance he can feel its breath, burning hot on the back of his neck, somehow. Sick-smelling, heavy with rot. ]
I killed you once before... [Isaac narrows his eyes] ...and my only regret is not making a place for your head on my mantle. But tonight I shall gladly rectify my mistake!
[It turns its body towards him now, bigger than it ever was, even with its wings pulled in. Still missing the middle toe on its left foot, and the part of one ear Isaac had managed to slice off. Its snout wrinkles in something approximating a smile. With a lazy swing of its arm, it hurls the corpse in Isaac's direction. It ragdolls, hitting the ground with a meaty thud before tumbling to a stop at his feet, limbs splayed brokenly. Fingers still twitching. Her long hair is tangled with leaves and twigs and her dress is ripped up the knee, legs scraped and stained with blood. The face - the half that hasn't been crushed to a jawless pulp - is turned to one side, eyes still begging for help.
A look that reaches into Isaac and grabs him by the guts, twisting them inside-out.
He goes weak at the middle. Staggers back a step, his breath coming in short, shallow heavesr.
Julia's body splits and blurs and joins again in his vision. And right there, while the world spins around him and his eyes burn, he can almost feel some part of his mind fracture, crumbling away from the rest.
The demon waits, smiling.
Blood rocks his skull and Isaac goes blind, never hearing the unhinged scream that claws its way out of him as he rushes the monster and slams his dagger up into its laughing throat, jerking it down through sinew and bone and cartilage to the breastbone. It topples, choking, spurting blood, Isaac landing on top of it. He punches the blade deep into its grinning skull, sobs ripping his throat, raw, animal sobbing, as it squeals out and he stabs it over and over again until its forehead collapses and its jellied eyeballs leak down its face like runny egg.
But all that's on Isaac's knife is dirt, clods of it flying from the soft spot in the ground he's driving it into.]
full blown lost it
But then a beat passes and then another, the two of them still taking measure of each other, and Hector's stance hasn't shifted. Isaac watches the inky drip of blood down Hector's hand, his gaze hard and searching his face for an explanation and only finding an expression he can't place.
His lips peel back.]
Do it! [He spits the words at him, feeling too vindicated, too angry, to let himself recognize the disappointment weighing heavy in his heart.] Consummate your precious revenge, if you can!
[In the thick brush comes a sudden thrashing, interrupting him. He throws a wild-eyed glance over his shoulder, staring into darkness. Branches snap and rustle away, and in the chaos he hears an angry, rhythmic grunting and someone screaming, a woman's scream splitting the night. He can't see but he knows what he's hearing, knows it to his bones. And it goes on until he grits his teeth and can't stand it, shooting a look to Hector - Hector, the merciful - who isn't reacting to it, as if he's lost his nerve.
Just as Isaac takes a purposeful step towards the sobbing struggle, determined to put an end to human and monster, half his wish is granted. There's a harsh, wet snap of a sound -- and then nothing at all. A deathly silence that's just as piercing as the wailing that came before it.
A hulking shape slowly emerges from the shadows, dragging a limp body behind it by the leg. It stops halfway towards the trees, turning its head Isaac's way -- and when their eyes meet, lock, Isaac feels a jolt run him through, the hairs on the nape of his neck lifting. The echoes of a sharp, white fear from what could've been years ago or only yesterday throbbing in his chest. His body hasn't forgotten; maybe it never would. But while some things may never change, enough has, when Isaac draws himself up against the chill and the weight of his cloak and remembers that he's still here - that he survived on his own, stronger for it - and that he
(can't move, can't get free, screaming past a sob of futile rage locked in his throat)
would put this beast down for good. He points his dagger at the demon. Even from a distance he can feel its breath, burning hot on the back of his neck, somehow. Sick-smelling, heavy with rot. ]
I killed you once before... [Isaac narrows his eyes] ...and my only regret is not making a place for your head on my mantle. But tonight I shall gladly rectify my mistake!
[It turns its body towards him now, bigger than it ever was, even with its wings pulled in. Still missing the middle toe on its left foot, and the part of one ear Isaac had managed to slice off. Its snout wrinkles in something approximating a smile. With a lazy swing of its arm, it hurls the corpse in Isaac's direction. It ragdolls, hitting the ground with a meaty thud before tumbling to a stop at his feet, limbs splayed brokenly. Fingers still twitching. Her long hair is tangled with leaves and twigs and her dress is ripped up the knee, legs scraped and stained with blood. The face - the half that hasn't been crushed to a jawless pulp - is turned to one side, eyes still begging for help.
A look that reaches into Isaac and grabs him by the guts, twisting them inside-out.
He goes weak at the middle. Staggers back a step, his breath coming in short, shallow heavesr.
Julia's body splits and blurs and joins again in his vision. And right there, while the world spins around him and his eyes burn, he can almost feel some part of his mind fracture, crumbling away from the rest.
The demon waits, smiling.
Blood rocks his skull and Isaac goes blind, never hearing the unhinged scream that claws its way out of him as he rushes the monster and slams his dagger up into its laughing throat, jerking it down through sinew and bone and cartilage to the breastbone. It topples, choking, spurting blood, Isaac landing on top of it. He punches the blade deep into its grinning skull, sobs ripping his throat, raw, animal sobbing, as it squeals out and he stabs it over and over again until its forehead collapses and its jellied eyeballs leak down its face like runny egg.
But all that's on Isaac's knife is dirt, clods of it flying from the soft spot in the ground he's driving it into.]