Feral!dying!Herbert yay

Date: 2006-03-20 07:42 am (UTC)
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From: [personal profile] winter
“They’ll suffer,” his father promised.

“Oh, yes, yes.” Pale lips curled back from white teeth. “I’ll cut them to pieces. If I can.”

“You will. I’ll summon doctors-“

The softest rasping sound of long strands of hair shifting against each other as Herbert shook his head. “They’ve been here. All of them.”

“I’ll find others-“

“I-“ Another drawn-out breath, and Herbert was trembling now. “I don’t think I have the time.”

Von Krolock’s fingers clenched, and for a moment he thought his nails had cut his son’s skin, but the sharp smell of fresh blood had another source. As Herbert struggled to turn in his arms, the sweat-soiled linen of his shirt parted, revealing a bandage streaked with red and brown. At the edge of the bandage, the pale skin was reddened, pulled taut.

“Father, listen,” the young man hissed. “It comes and goes, the fever – late night brings retreat, but I don’t know how long I have, how much time with my thoughts clear enough. Listen.”
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Beth Winter

October 2023

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