#tmnt TheBlackVeil

[paynomindtotheinsanity]

Chapter Eight is up!!

His eyes are on me. In me. Through me. There are worlds beyond his gaze. A reality of suffering and flames, smoke and despair. Images flash from his mind to my own; pain that is forced, shared, dispersed in my bones until the ghosts scream through my blood. I am an extension—the echo of his voice in a chasm of nothingness.

[paynomindtotheinsanity]

"Stay with me," I whisper sharply.

"Karai..." he mumbles again. "...I killed them."

I swallow the image down, but the sound resonates. "Shut up."

He blinks heavily and draws his gaze to meet mine. "Didn't I?"

My nostrils flare. "It wasn't you."

He groans, struggling to lift his hand to his face. "I…I don't feel good…"

My jaw clenches and I have to close my eyes. Just for a second. The chaos in my head is a million ghosts, screaming at me, cursing me. I should've stayed in my room. I shouldn't have come down here—what the hell was I thinking? I can't get him out, and now we're stuck in a damn closet with no exit in sight. My father's idiots will find us and we'll be dead in no time—

No…no, not yet…not yet…

I can't die yet. My fingers tighten on the handle of my blade. I won't be executed like a damn prisoner.

"Stay with me,” I repeat. "Don't you fucking pass out, Leo."

"Just go, Karai.” I can feel him giving up. "Before they find us...you can still get out of this."

My voice solidifies. "I'm not leaving without you."

[paynomindtotheinsanity]

“I can’t find him.”

              The steadiness of my voice surprises me.

Donnie stares, eyes full of pain and worry and defeat, but all of that is glossed over by a look of sheer exhaustion.

              “We’ll get him back, Raph,” he says firmly, gripping my hand tight. “I promise, we will. But right now… The storm’s too much. We have to go home, regroup, come up with a plan—something. We’re just wasting time out here.”

              My chest fills with air that goes nowhere. “…I know.”

His gaze holds my face steady. A sound becomes strangled in his throat—he steps forward and hugs me.

              “It’s okay,” he says, over and over. “We’re okay—he’s okay…”

I don’t hug him back. My arms feel so heavy. Everything is. I want to believe Donnie—I want to trust in him, like I should have the last time we lost Leo. But my thoughts are a whirlwind of destruction and fear and ache. I’m so scared, my body is becoming numb, unable to handle the rush of cold, the what-ifs, the thoughts of Leo, alone and broken and hurt and dead—

              He’s not dead—

But he could be.