Sick Like Me

A guttural growl caught in Cadaver's throat as Illusion responded, her words striking him like the physical blows she'd already landed. For a moment, his intentions were stilled by her brazen admission of their shared brokenness. A cold shiver ran down his spine, chilling him to the bone despite the rage that still coursed through his veins. His sister was not backing down, choosing instead to meet his charge head on. As their bodies collided with a bone-jarring thud, Cadaver's teeth snapped shut just inches from Illusion's neck.

Her lack of resistance took him by surprise; it was not an act of surrender but a bold defiance, a refusal to be overpowered. Her words echoed in his ears, a fierce reminder of their shared imperfections. Cadaver's grip on Illusion tightened, a silent demand for her to yield.

But she didn't.

Cadaver's mind raced trying to figure out how break her resilience, but he was stopped short by the unwavering defiance in her eyes. They were a mirror of his own, burning with an equal amount of determination, betrayal and hatred. With a low, grumbling growl, Cadaver tightened his grip on Illusion’s scruff, his claws pricking through her delicate fur and into the skin beneath as he flexed them against her shoulder- holding her against the hot earth. His expression twisting into a feral snarl as he maintained his position over the top of her.

“Think you’re so brave?” He hissed through her blood as it pooled on his tongue, his dual toned eye gleaming with wild rage. The smirk that previously danced on his lips had now contorted into an ugly scowl. “I’ll show you bravery, sister. I’ll show you what it means to be broken." The word came out as a low growl, Cadaver's voice a threatening rumble in the still night air. His breath hitched as he bore down on her, his jaw clenching with the effort to maintain control. There was a tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with physical exertion, an indescribable feeling that twisted his insides like a coiled snake ready to strike.

He shook his head, hooking his canines into the side of her scruff with as much ferocity as he could manage. The metallic tang of her blood filled his mouth, and the smell, strong and coppery, permeated his nose. Cadaver relished in it. He was the hunter, she was his prey — wounded but not defeated.

But then she wasn’t. She was Illusion.

It was minuscule at first, but the foggy haze began to life. The recognition began to dawn on him. A whisper of a doubt, a momentary lapse in his furious assault. He was fighting Illusion. His sister. Why was he fighting Illusion? The rage did not fade, only merely redirected. Cadaver suddenly released his hold, pulling back away from the bloody mess he had made of her neck. Her golden embellishments now stained scarlet with the open wound. What had he done? No. Why had she done this to him? “WHY DID YOU MAKE ME HATE YOU!?” He roared at her, only a few inches between them where he loomed over the top of her- his resolve quickly beginning to crumble.

"Cadaver Nightwing"