- Sep 15, 2022
- 157
- 27
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((TW: Self loathing and suicidal thoughts ))
His was a gradual descent. His heart entangled in dark tendrils that strangled and dragged it down into the abyss, never to see light again. Hatred and anger suffocated him every day, shadowed only by his self loathing.
Of all the cats he hated, he hated himself the most. Long sleepless nights spent trapped in an endless cycle of beating himself over past words and actions. Tearing himself apart over everything he's ever done until he exhausted himself and was forced into light slumber, where he was haunted by nightmares and unnerving dreams of demise.
He was stuck in an endless cycle of torture and there was no one to pull him out of it. There was no one that cared enough to fish him out of the abyss. So he believes, anyways. He has kept his eternal torment to himself, the only clue he was suffering was the sunken eyes devoid of light and the unkempt fur of his pelt. The slouched posture and the perpetually unsheathed claws.
Anyone who knew him before his exile would barely recognize him now. They would see someone completely different, someone driven mad by their own thoughts.
It's all justified, he tells himself.
He was a fool. He spoke out and was chased out, forced to abandon his family, who now hate him. So hated is he by the forest that he cannot even set foot in it anymore.
All because of the disease on the moors.
It's infected the forest, his family. Those who escape it are still doomed to suffer.
He has reached his limit, however. The culmination of his raging inner turmoil. He does not want to be here anymore. His once kind heart is consumed by violence that he cannot contain.
For the first time, he truly, genuinely wants to kill. He wants to sink his teeth into someone's throat. Hear their dying gasp and see the light leave their eyes.
And should he be killed instead? Good. He'd be free at last from the misery of his own making. It was a win win situation to him.
The thought of being free of it all makes him feel desperate. He almost wants to run headlong into a patrol and get it over with.
What scares him is that there is no longer a voice telling him not to do such a thing.
His was a gradual descent. His heart entangled in dark tendrils that strangled and dragged it down into the abyss, never to see light again. Hatred and anger suffocated him every day, shadowed only by his self loathing.
Of all the cats he hated, he hated himself the most. Long sleepless nights spent trapped in an endless cycle of beating himself over past words and actions. Tearing himself apart over everything he's ever done until he exhausted himself and was forced into light slumber, where he was haunted by nightmares and unnerving dreams of demise.
He was stuck in an endless cycle of torture and there was no one to pull him out of it. There was no one that cared enough to fish him out of the abyss. So he believes, anyways. He has kept his eternal torment to himself, the only clue he was suffering was the sunken eyes devoid of light and the unkempt fur of his pelt. The slouched posture and the perpetually unsheathed claws.
Anyone who knew him before his exile would barely recognize him now. They would see someone completely different, someone driven mad by their own thoughts.
It's all justified, he tells himself.
He was a fool. He spoke out and was chased out, forced to abandon his family, who now hate him. So hated is he by the forest that he cannot even set foot in it anymore.
All because of the disease on the moors.
It's infected the forest, his family. Those who escape it are still doomed to suffer.
He has reached his limit, however. The culmination of his raging inner turmoil. He does not want to be here anymore. His once kind heart is consumed by violence that he cannot contain.
For the first time, he truly, genuinely wants to kill. He wants to sink his teeth into someone's throat. Hear their dying gasp and see the light leave their eyes.
And should he be killed instead? Good. He'd be free at last from the misery of his own making. It was a win win situation to him.
The thought of being free of it all makes him feel desperate. He almost wants to run headlong into a patrol and get it over with.
What scares him is that there is no longer a voice telling him not to do such a thing.