⋅ Inspiration ⋅

[Canonically Occurs After This Thread]

Mikael blinked lazily as he stared at his mother’s golden hair shifting through the air. He was sitting cross-legged, and she was in a crouched position on the rocks of the cliffside, her hands trailing downward picking up different stones. Keeping the ones she admired and the rest she would discard with little thought. The cool summer air rustled the long wheatgrass. A whisper of movement across everything. Life had been breathed into the forest. The soft murmuring of birds and insects was their backdrop. Mikael swallowed thickly mesmerized uncertainty in his movement. His Mother. His Mama. She was here. A jolt of happiness pulled through him suddenly. "Min mor." [My Mother] He hummed out blissfully. Her gaze turned slightly regarding him with delicate caution. She had always been a strong woman in her fragility. Tender but protective.

His gaze drifted upward as seagulls flew overhead completely silent. "Mitt barn. Det er fare i disse skogene." [My child. There is a danger in these woods.] Brows furrowing slightly the boy would follow his mother’s hardened gaze towards the woods to his right. Nothing seemed amiss, but when he looked back towards his mother she had long since stood and walked forward. The boy stood quickly brows furrowing as he followed after her.

"Mor?" he spoke out softly. Following he quickly like he wished he had done so many moons ago. Quickly walking up to see his mother place her hand on one of the trees of the tree line. The oppressive darkness pulled forward from the depths of the woods. Seeping forward as it slowly consumed tree by tree in the oppressive darkness. "Hva.." [What..] he whispered out. "Vet du hvem som tok meg som kommer?" [Do you know who took me is coming?] his Mother whispered. Her hair fluttered in the breeze, gracefully cascading down her back.

"Hva?" he barely uttered our brows furrowing in distress. "Du pleide å være venner du kjenner." [You used to be friends you know.] Her gaze drifted slightly over her shoulder, he could barely make out the features of her face before she turned away. "For lenge siden...” [A long time ago] she hummed out. The darkness pulled closer, spilling over leaves and logs. Drawing closer. "Mor?" he called out. His foot stepped back as his Mother stepped through the tree line. Her hand grasped the tree behind her like a lifeline. Her gaze slowly turned to look back at him a faint smile to her lips. Tiredness lay rested deep in her soul.

"Mamma ... Har du det bra?" [Mom are you okay?] How much he wanted to reach out to her to follow her. To follow her like he should have that fateful night. "Mamma.." he muttered again as tears slowly pilled up in his eyes. "Ikke bekymre deg, han kommer etter deg også nå." [Don't worry he's coming for you too.] Mikael stood still as he could adrenaline pumping through his veins. Muscles tensing and contracting as he watched his Mother fall into the woods disappearing into the black sludge. "Mamma!" he would cry out jolting forward hand outstretched as he tried to reach for her.

The boy would fall darkness swathing over him until he found himself standing upright. Tension ran through him as if it was trying to choke him. He was staring at him. The chase was continuous, but it was not the wolf who chased the rabbit. The rabbit had grown hungry and ravenous. For it had claws and teeth just the same, and the predator was now the prey. The metallic smell of the train station permeated his nose. Harsh. Chemicals. He was back to this moment. The moment he realized he was being hunted, and that there was nothing he could do. A tall man stood across the train platforms. Sharp blue eyes bore him down his hatred was known, and it was loud. His perfect black hair remained neat and tidy. A smug look on his face only accentuated the knowledge that he had truly lost. Mikael stepped backward falling onto his back, eyes shutting for the briefest of moments, and yet it seemed the black-haired boy had moved with incredible speed to now stand over him. "J-Jakob." he rasped out as tears pricked into his eyes.

With a gasp, the boy pulled himself upright with a scream. Mikael would move to stand up to turn on the light only to entangle himself in his sheets and fall to the ground with a sharp thud. A grunt escaped his mouth as his shoulder made contact with the cool ground. The full throb of pain stretched through his arm as he tried to push himself into an upright position. Throwing his legs about as he worked himself out of the oppressive blanket that clung onto him like a shroud. Mikael breathed out heavily his breath short and quick as he scrambled to find his way through the dark room. The light of the moon lazily filtered through the window. Barely lighting up the center of the room, leaving the far corners of his room lost in the darkness. Blinking blearily as his eyes adjusted to the dark, Mikael would push himself up into a standing position stumbling to the door and out into the hallway. His brows remained furrowed as he pulled forward. Set in a daze, leaving his oil lamp abandoned on his side table.

The boy blindly made his way through the dark hallway walking across quickly into the bathroom. His heart hammered away at his chest as he stepped quickly around creaking boards. Opening and shut the door with haste as he attempted to escape the darkness that reached out for him. The boy paused his hand resting on the doorknob as he leaned against the door. Pausing in the serenity of the bathroom. Hazy moonlight drifted through the singular, small window. Dust drifted lazily about in the beams. His heart continued to beat at an irregular pace, Mikael’s mouth was open slightly as he panted. Eyes locking onto the mirror, slowly the boy peeled himself away from the door. Padding over to the mirror that hung over the sink.

As Mikael’s form came into view, he could not help but focus on the water damage that had slowly worn away at the edges of the mirror. Mikael swallowed feeling nauseated as he leaned in slightly looking into his darkened eyes. His gaze slowly shifted away to his hair, it had far grown past what he was accustomed to. The boy swallowed thickly his mouth feeling much dryer then usual. His hair...if he could focus hard enough he could barely make out a dream he once had. Foggy and uncertain like his dreams always were. One where he was much younger, his hair touching his shoulders, and he was back in that room. He could see the cross hanging behind him in the mirror. The man with the large smile was behind him, and he kept saying something. blah blah Baptism. Oh. That wasn't a dream. A dull recognition that sparked his heart with pain. It was so hard to focus on the memory, but he knew that day had been filled with nothing but torment until he had wept into his Mother's arms. His brows furrowed together. and with a quick movement, Mikael grabbed a pair of scissors that lay dusty on the window sill. Grabbing his hair and chopping it off in one clean break. Hair fell off in rivulets into the sink below. Right. That wasn't a dream at all, but maybe he wished it was.

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