Fire Light

Fire burned through Lee's body, not at all muted by the size of the red lights as they stung him, the glare of their heat feeling like the hot needles that his mother had used to force his crying, baby sister to have her ears pierced, stabbing Lee over and over again first to force his compliance in keeping the screaming, wailing toddler still - the wounds that the needle made cauterised almost immediately and kept open by the thread forced through those newly opened and sensitive holes.

The memories rose up unbidden in Lee's mind as he forced himself to keep on running, ignoring how his skin became gradually more and more singed as the smell of burnt flesh began to waft up to his nose, clogging up his throat as his stomach spasmed.

Lee unwillingly gagged as he struggled to take in a breath of much needed air for the sake of his pained lungs, the movement breaking off into a series of painful chokes as Lee closed his eyes in an effort to centre himself.

His foot caught on one of the roots of the trees at he was running past, the rough bark snagging and then pulling at his clothes as he attempted to keep on moving past it, not allowing his aching knees to get what they wanted and sending him into a tumbling fall where he would be undoubtedly doomed.

Suddenly, a hand shot out of the darkness to grab at Lee - calloused and gloved hands pulling at the skin of Lee's face, fingers tangling in his hair and yanking harshly to force Lee into a stop, uncaring of the new found stinging and raw feeling in his scalp, the nails of the hand underneath the fabric of the gloves stabbing into Lee's skin, the beading feeling of upwelling blood at once too familiar and too foreign and shocking.

And all at once, the lights that had accosted Lee, damaging him as they made their wild chase at his fleeing gait, stopped.

They held exactly still, unmoving as they hovered around his body bright in warning, shackling him still and keeping him from fleeing back to the village where Lee knew that he would be safe.

The hand that had grabbed at Lee then let go, sending his body sprawling to the floor.

Gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to smooth over his hair, running a hand through the remaining strands attached to his scalp, feeling around to somehow quell and calm the little puddles of blood that he knew would be there, Lee forced himself to remain calm, clutching the water skin bags to his chest and bowing down on his knees.

Lee remained silent as his head met the grass below him, the forest and night still too dark to see whether he had left any imprints of blood behind on the velvet green below.

"This lowly mortal greets the God of War," Lee uttered out, not lifting his head as he made his greeting, unwilling to part with the precious water that he was currently risking his life for.