Locke Hartley (phoenix__down) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2011-02-10 21:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-08-09, locke |
We burn our mind and we say goodnight
Who: Locke, his parents (NPC), and a Legionnaire of Haures (NPC)
Where: Hartley residence
When: Early evening
Warning: Violence and gore
Demons and angels. Funny how that came out into the open before phoenixes. Locke was relatively amused by that concept, but nevertheless, he was still petrified about the whole situation. There were less demons, true, but that didn’t mean they were flat out gone. Or that there was an angel for every household to protect them.
Locke had turned off the television after an hour, knowing that there would be nothing but this flooding each station. He ignored the worried words leaving his parents and simply went to his bedroom. It was quieter there, though by no means safer. Being away from his parents relieved some of the anxiety that had been clogging in his chest, but that was it. Sitting down on his bed, he let out a heavy breath of air and ran his fingers through his blonde locks. What was he suppose to do with himself this evening? Several of his friends were either locked up in their homes or went to the nearest sanctuary against the demons. Locke’s own parents were too stubborn to leave the house. They didn’t want to be surrounded by the entire township, stripping them of their privacy. Yeah, but would you rather have privacy or safety? To this day, he still didn’t understand the mentality of the modern American parents.
His earbuds connecting to his iPod were on when it happened. The knocking down of the front door, the terrified shrills, the blood-thirsty roar... all of it was blocked out by some contemporary rock music that Locke was lost in. Though the second he felt a tremor jolt through his entire room, shaking every tiny item in sight, Locke promptly lifted his head from one of his favorite books and put the iPod on pause.
And then he finally heard it.
He couldn’t tell if the shriek came from his mother or father, but at this point it didn’t matter. Whipping the earbuds off and jumping to his feet, Locke continued to hear the cries from downstairs. Dishes being shattered, furniture being thrown about carelessly, and so much more that he couldn’t pinpoint from upstairs. As much as he didn’t care about his adoptive parents, Locke needed to know what the hell was going on. The door flung open while he ran down the hallway and looked over the balcony to peer down to the first floor.
Everything was a mess and that was putting it lightly. Every piece of furniture, every object that had once been standing in near perfect, was now broken, shattered, thrown astray, and left to rot. One simple wall was splattered in crimson blood, still fresh as the liquid slowly oozed down the surface. Locke caught sight of his father first, lying on the ground with his torso gutted open, his entrails spilling out while he gurgled out more and more blood. His lower portion was missing and had Locke torn his eyes away from the gory sight, he would have found one leg sticking out of the broken window and another on the opposite side, accompanied by the television and lamp.
The only thing that broke his stare was the sound of his mother screaming in sheer hysteria. She was positioned in a corner, trying to cower behind one of the chairs while tears streamed down her face. If she was saying anything worthy of being coherent, Locke couldn’t decipher it. Nothing but cries and pleas of despair and dread.
It took some strength, but he finally followed his mother’s stare and looked over to the doorway, where a massive black creature stood, covered by some sort of misty veil. Locke didn’t focus on the body for too long, instantly drawn in by those endless pits of fire that were in place of its eyes. In one hand, it held the bloody mess that had to come from ripping his father’s stomach open. It stood there, carelessly crushing the organs while tossing them swiftly at his mother. The cried only grew worse and Locke still couldn’t move, forced to remain paralyzed.
The demon opened its mouth and screamed. It was enough to bring Locke down to his knees, clamping his hands over his ears as every damn muscle in his body trembled while the sound shot through him. More objects shook in the wake of the violent scream, falling from their locations and smashing to the ground, but the shatters were a pindrop in comparison to the horrid sound that filled the house. It wouldn’t have surprised Locke if they filled that entire street.
By the time Locke regained his willpower, he looked back down in enough time to watch the demon leap out at his father and brutally eviscerate his body. Limbs were ripped off and nonchalantly thrown every where. Bone was crushed and made into a fine dust. His father’s cries were silenced by having his throat violently ripped out, blood gushing out of every orifice. By the time the demon was done beating the head head into nothing but a pulp against the wall, the surface went from blood splattered to blood drenched. The smell of blood was one that would haunt Locke for future lifetimes as it filled every nook in the house.
The next victim was his mother, who was busy cowering in her hysterical fit, but that didn’t matter to the demon. Her cries only brought amusement to the creature, or at least that’s what it seemed like. The sound that emerged from the black figure was probably a laugh back in Hell, but it made nails on a chalkboard sound like a harmonious symphony.
Locke wasn’t well-versed in combat - phoenixes didn’t kill others. He never felt the urge to do so. Part of him wished he could kill this demon with his bare hands and try to save his mother, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. He was a creature of protection and healing. Could he revive his father? Yes. Was it currently possible? Locke was certain that percentage was down in the single digits. He had never revived someone... ever. He wanted to at times, but everything happened for a reason. Some people just couldn’t be saved. Like Tito... and Jan... and Locke. A phoenix always had to worry about their own safety and Locke knew that if he died here tonight, he feared that not a single flame would come from his ashes. This could possibly be the true ending of his life.
But he had reasons to live. Small reasons, but they were there. He refused to let Bunny be alone. Or Freddie. Or Lily. Or Angeline. They needed him. Jillian needed his guidance and Amelia needed his wisdom. And Cole...
Cole doesn’t care about you. You’re not worth caring for except cookies and a game of Wii.
But even if Cole felt nothing for Locke in his heart, there was a spot for the blue-haired boy in Locke’s... and it was enough to remind him he needed to live to see tomorrow. To see Cole. To be there for Cole.
Closing his eyes, Locke took in a shaky breath, only to open his eyes and launch himself over the railing and down to the first floor. An end table broke his fall and he was certain the crack that followed was due to several limbs protesting against his actions, but he could heal those easy enough. The fall made his mother scream again, flinching at his sudden arrival as the demon perked up at him with keen interest. Locke clutched onto his shoulder, hissing in breaths of air in hopes to numb the pain, then spun on his heels the face the eager, grinning demon. Before the evil creature could launch towards him, Locke focused all his energies to create a massive wall of fire before him, blocking off the demon and leaving him with his mother. The flames licked at the structure of the house, slowly eating away at it, but the house would remain standing for enough time. Besides, it made the demon howl in rage and draw back. It would buy him enough time.
“L-L-Locke?”
His mother - no... Penelope. As much as he valued her care, she wasn’t his mother. Taking several steps back, Locke turned to face the trembling woman, who also seemed to share her deal of injuries. No where near as bad as being filleted opened, but she would live for now.
“Penelope... Listen, I-”
“What is...?! Could you... No, you couldn’t-”
“I always could, Penelope.” Locke limped over to her, doing his best to be the stable, mature one in this scenario. He had seen people died before. Tortured, abused, all of it. This didn’t phase him so much, but the idea of not being able to do a damn thing about? And potentially dying for real? That got to him. There was an unsteady tone to his voice while tears slowly swelled in his eyes. “I’m not human. I’m not the little boy you thought I was.”
“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!” She shrieked on the top of her lungs, finally dropping to the floor while holding her bloodied arm close. “WHO ARE YOU?!”
Locke paused in his footsteps. He realized that even if he explained, giving her the quick version, it wouldn’t matter. She didn’t care. Locke stood, tears being released from his eyes while his lower lip trembled.
“...I’m no one. No one worth caring for.”
The demon had finally leapt through the flames, not caring if it lit its entire body on fire. Locke had already dropped to the ground, huddling into a ball while the creature soared overhead and collided into Penelope. The sounds that churned out of her body echoed infinitely in Locke’s soul. No rebirth would ever erase that memory. He refused to look, to watch the poor woman who initially took him in as her own be violated, be tormented, be tortured until she was finally filled off. Not a single moment of it was laced with mercy. Nothing but sheer agony.
When silence greeted Locke, he finally brought his head up, ignoring the tears that were cascading out of his eyes and locked stares with the demon. Blood painted sections of its dark body, not caring about its appearance and focused sololy on finishing the last of its prey. Locke hesitated as it slowly came towards him, relishing in the fact he reeked of fear at that point.
You have to live...
The demon juggled Penelope’s head back and forth between its hands with a sly grin.
You cannot die... not here...
Locke yelped as the head was briskly chucked in his direction, blood splattering along his face.
You know what you need to do to live...
“I can’t.” His words were breathless while answering his inner voice.
You CAN. You have to.
The demon began preparing itself to pounce the pathetic blonde sitting before him.
...do it for Cole.
The mental image of the blue-haired psychic crying was enough to cease the choking tears. It was enough to make Locke sit straight up as the demon soared through the air, roaring in anticipation. It was enough to make Locke’s own scream overpower every sound in the vicinity.
Locke’s eyes glowed a brilliant gold for a split second, enough to make the demon second guess its victim. Then his body transformed, taking the shape of a magnificent bird. That shrill continued to seep out of Locke, even in his bird form while the flames swallowed him whole and enlarged his form by ten. The fiery bird flapped his wings, a mixture of crackling, roaring flames and chiming, reverberating bells filling the area with each beat. All the demon could do was stare at the marvel floating before it, watching in awe as it witness the power that belonged to the mythical phoenix.
And then Locke brought life to those quiet whispers that had been passed throughout the centuries that made everyone wonder what he was capable of - he exploded into flames. Every inch of the house was encompassed by the wildfire, wishing it to bring harm to the vicinity. Locke never wished anything ill on anyone, by that would change today. The demon need to die, or at least suffer for daring to cross paths with an elder phoenix. It was the only way Locke would survive. Even if it meant taking the entire house with him and burning all the evidence.
The sound of the demon howling in pain as the flames relentlessly covered its body was enough for Locke. He flew through the house, passing through whatever material was in his way and brought more flames with him. He made sure to visit each room, a blaze of fire following him where ever he went. Everything had to burn. It’s the only way... By the time he visited each area, Locke could see nothing but orange and yellow flames dancing before him as if cheering with the acquired victory. The demon was still downstairs, still crying as the fire ate at its skin and charred its bone. Locke couldn’t stick around to see if it died or not. He needed to leave.
Erupting from the crackling flames, Locke shot out from the burning building and shed his fire form while he was at it. All that was left was an itty bitty red and black bird that tweeted in desperation. He flew in circles above his house, watching the structure finally give and crash to the ground. He watched and waited until all that was left was the base foundation covered in nothing but black, smoldering wood. There were sirens in the distance, indicating the fire engines that were coming far too late. The demon was still there, still shrieking while flailing about on fire in hopes to catch the bird and squeeze it to death. Locke felt his heart about to burst through his chest, knowing he would be confronted with nightmares each time he went to sleep at night.
No, it’s worth it.
Or at least he hoped it would be.
By the time the fire engines came to his house... no, it wasn’t his house anymore. This no longer had any attachment to Locke. He refused to have it bring his heart down. There was enough on his plate to deal with. Witnessing the outright merciless slaughter of his adoptive parents didn’t need to be added onto the overwhelming weight on his shoulders. But with the fire fighters there, Locke had to go. He couldn’t be spotted - bird or boy. He would find a new home to call his own. It was simply a matter of where.
Bunny was right next door and as much as he loved the girl, he couldn’t stay at her place. He would be haunted with even more flashbacks each time he glanced at where his house once stood. He couldn’t impose on Angeline and he doubted she’d want some weeping boy clinging onto her. Not very manly as her boyfriend-thing, now was it? Cole already had enough, dealing with living in a hotel and his only family problems. Besides, Locke refused to stand in the way between him and Bunny. Jillian would understand, but like fucking hell Locke would stay with a fellow phoenix. He knew way better than that.
...Amelia.
The white witch would be there for him. She promised she would be. Aside from Jillian, she was the only one who knew his secret. She could protect him, give him a roof over his head, and not act like some imposing adoptive mother. They could help each other. And Locke would give Amelia the biggest IOU if she took him in. The decision was instantaneous and no room for second guessing was allowed. With a shift of his wings, he darted off frantically in the direction of Amelia’s house.
And no matter how fast he flew or how far away he grew from the location, he could still hear the demon scream.