The Roof; Friday Evening

[ihuntkillers.livejournal.com]

It was that quiet, gray time right as the sun's rays stopped coating the world in brightness and right before the darkness slipped over the world like a well worn cloak.

—gotta wakey, wakey, Jasper, my boy

Jasper startled, blinking sluggishly. Had he fallen asleep? No, no. No, he'd just been in some sort of daze, staring down at the island below but not really seeing anything. When his father's voice had sounded in his head, he'd woken up and rubbed his eyes.

Without meaning to, he thought of Rusty. Before his mind could go too far into that train of thought, he closed the door and sealed it again. Jasper closed his eyes and took a deep breath before hopping up onto the ledge of the roof. Feet perched solidly on the edge, Jasper tilted his head back, feeling the waning heat of the day giving way to the cooler air of the night.

We are their gods, Jasper. And if they will not worship, we will make them.

Jasper breathed deep. In. Out. The thrill of excitement that coursed through his body at his father's words disgusted him. That wasn't right. That wasn't how it was supposed to be.

He opened his eyes and blinked. He could do so much on this tiny island. Destroy it and leave it behind.

Yes.

"No!" he shouted out into the grey sky. And then quieter, he mumbled, "No."

[ Open. Feel free to have heard the shout or not. Up to you. ]