my father calls

*Jigsaw* · 11-17-2021, 08:59 PM

TW: Suicide, please don't read if that bothers you!!

Jigsaw stood, unmoving and focused at the top of Mount Volkan. The heat from the caldera radiated up and warmed his face, the ooze from his nostrils and eyes becoming thinner and running harder down his slender face. It was the brightest, warmest place in all the land, almost as if the sun had hidden itself deep within the lava's surface and was just waiting to be found. Jigsaw felt more comfortable upon the rocky cliff then he'd felt the entire season of spring so far - why hadn't he come here sooner?

Having heard his father's call for help not-so-long ago had shaken the boy to the core, but perhaps the worst part of it was how suddenly the voice dropped off and vanished. Jigsaw found himself both missing the familiar tones of his father and worrying that his absence was a terrible sign. He'd called for help from both him and Askell - was it too late to help him now? His paw shifted, moving grasping the edge of the ridge tightly. This was stupid, some part of him knew it but Jigsaw paid the rational thought no notice. His father needed him, and Jigsaw would do anything for family.

The warmth enveloped and comforted him and Jigsaw exhaled, releasing all the tension that had been building within his body since this sickness took it's hold upon the land. The paranoia, the fear, it faded from notice the longer Jigsaw stared down the mouth of the volcano. Was this a sign that he was on the right track? Was this how he saved his father? The boy took another hesitant step forward, both forepaws now wrapped around the rocky ledge. It should be easier, Jigsaw thought to himself. Doing the right thing shouldn't require thought or hesitation or doubt, and the longer Jigsaw stood there the more his sickness-touched mind became convinced that it was the right thing to do.

His eyes squeezed shut, the bright neon goo seemingly feeling like they'd fuse them that way forever. His rear paws moved forward, balancing Jigsaw precariously atop the ledge where one stiff breeze might take the option out of his hands. It was not something he wanted - to fall in, rather then make the conscious choice. What if the only way to help Harbringr was to do it willingly, without force? Then Jigsaw'd be dead, and his father would still be suffering. He shifted his paw backwards, finding his balance once more.

Jigsaw thought of Askell - his brother who had been orphaned along with him, would he ever forgive him for this choice? It hurt to think of abandoning his sibling, his closest family member and leaving him alone in the world. Askell heard their father's desperate call too, would he understand what Jigsaw was hoping to accomplish? The paranoia rose, sending flares of panic through the yearling's chest as he imagined a future where Askell hated his memory. It did not last long as the voice within him reminded him of his brother's undying love, soothing his worries and assuring Jigsaw that Askell would understand. He had to understand, right?

The yearling blew out a sigh, opening his sticky eyes and once more watching the bubbling lava below. A faint memory from his childhood surfaced, a moment where he'd asked his father if he could touch the lava and being told how hot and painful it would be. Jigsaw had obviously obeyed his father's wisdom in that moment, but a part of him had always wanted to rebel - to run his paws through the boiling liquid just to see how it may feel. He was not stupid, he knew such a thing would melt his paws, but intrusive thoughts were only natural, especially moments before death.

The voice within his head urged him on, his paranoia kicking up to remind Jigsaw of his mission here at the volcano's mouth. If he waited too long.. well, he wasn't sure what would happen, but something told him it would be disastrous. His heart pounded hard in his chest, his mouth grew unnaturally dry, and the feeling in his limbs began to fade. He had to do it, he had to do it now. If he didn't.. if he didn't..

Jigsaw jumped and the caldera bubbled up to meet his form. The pain was indescribable though short lasting, searing through and severing every nerve, muscle, and organ as it consumed him.

-exit via death-
-entrance via spooky ghost-

Somehow he expected death, the afterlife, whatever to be less.. orange. It felt like he was on the cusp of drowning, merely struggling to keep his head above water. His paws were even moving like they were paddling, though the water was warmer then anything he'd ever felt. His head broke above the surface and he realized with a start that he was fucking in the volcano. Alive? He felt alive, though he assumed bathing in lava should be more painful then what he was experiencing now.

Jigsaw paddled his way to the rock wall, grasping his paws upon a ledge and yanking himself up and out from the surface of the lava. Craning his head up, he saw high above where the mouth of the volcano lie. Heaving an exhausted sigh, the yearling stepped up upon a protruding rock and pulled his weary body up. One foot down, a few hundred more to go, Jigsaw guessed. He moved to climb the next one, though found it was slippery with lava and he quickly lost his grip, plunging down into the heat once more. Fuck.

Eventually he made his way up and out, his pelt dripping with the hot liquid. Well, his dad had lied about lava being dangerous, hadn't he? He felt pretty much alive, attributing the difference in the way his body now felt to be in being cured of his affliction. With a paw he swiped his nose, inspecting the fur as he drew it away to find there was no ooze transferred. Was that the cure, then? A lava bath?

WC: 1011

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my father calls

tw: suicide

Jigsaw