Moment, a FERP Fic

There was a short moment, when they were being transported, that Jonah noticed his surroundings blur, and noticed not too long after that, that he was now all alone to be transported. But, through the flickering of many different times and locations passed, he was only familiar with one—and that was a dirty dark cell he soon found himself standing in, over another figure curled up in the corner.

There was red all over the floor leading up to the figure, which he soon recognised was their hair, which had been cut off from her head. The figure was nearly unrecognisable beyond that; swollen eyes, bruised skin, even her voice was unrecognisable.

“Who are you?” Those words weren't even cold, they were just painless. As if she spoke without emotion and without any intention behind it. It was a voice, Jonah could tell, associated with giving up. And that too was another characteristic of this character that made her identity harder to define.

He touched his pink hair consciously, seeing her rugged short haired look. The dead red colour on the floor didn't match the near blackish crimson hair she still had left. And for someone who had cared so much about it in the past, her hair was a complete mess.

“It doesn't matter who I am now.” Was what Jonah could say. “You're in a worser condition than I had anticipated, really.”

She gave a low chuckle. But still lacked the emotion. “Life does that to you. The wealthy are destined to live better lives than slum born filths like us. We feed on their scraps. And we suffer for what wrongs they do.”

Jonah kept holding his head up. “You know where I come from?”

“That's a Kibou blade you've got there. And your mannerisms aren't that of any Drama I know of. And judging by that crest on your shoulder, you're nothing more than a low class mercenary, right?” She looked away, her piercing eyes holding no mercy for him. “They’re to be executing me tomorrow morning. I’d have thought they were pushing back the date, but you're not one of them.”

“Curious how I suddenly appeared here, yet you don't question why or if I could let you escape.”

The woman stared dully at the boy. “The last meal I had was given to me eight nights before. They don't want to see me, they don't think about seeing me, in my mind I see myself ripping their hearts out of their chests and dining on their toxic blood. These walls make anyone go crazy, you could be just another illusion.” A sigh escaped past her lips. “And I'm not falling for another illusion again.”

“If I may ask just a few questions,” Jonah began, before feeling something tug at his sleeves. Something, mystical and not quite with him yet. “Actually, let me just ask one. You have a son, don't you?”

“My son is dead.”

Jonah tried not to flinch at that. “…Right, but moving on, what would the one thing you wish you could've said to your son?”

The figure paused, and looked away. Jonah could feel the pulls on his body growing stronger, even if they weren't visible to him. He could feel his weight being lifted, but kept himself attentive to the figure who was unaware of what was happening to him. His body was fading quickly, being warped already through the transportation. He was being pulled back harder now, shrinking and disappearing, when she turned her head.

“Live. I would want him to live.”

Jonah could only nod his head solemnly, as he was sucked away into nothingness, leaving the figure in her cell alone again. In the corner where she sat, all day and all night, she dropped her head onto her knees and closed her eyes. A single tear threatened to roll down her cheek, before she wiped it away.