Out like a Light

A small clearing
About a mile from the nearest city
Russia

It was bright against the white snow. Not quite sparkling, although the way the sunlight danced of the pristine solidified liquid around was enough to attract his attention on its own. But... the red was bright.

And it smelled, sharp and acrid. He knew that smell.

It led him to her.

She was slight, a small little thing, hardly worth notice in the first place, except for the predicament she'd found herself. It made her look more pathetic than she already would have, laying there in the snow like that. Her hair was alight with the sun, the rich colour, brown like the earth, yet warm alive with a reddish flame; it was a stark contrast against the white blanket the ground had become.

Though it was not as bright as the blood. Nothing was as bright as the blood.

Her face was pale, lips lacking the colour they ought to have. Everything about her was muted - dying.

Everything but her eyes. They still sparkled, even with their last breath, the eyes always sparkled. Kyrie had always noticed that about the eyes, it was why he liked them so.

It was that, not the gaping wound torn into the flesh of her frail little chest, making a mess of the worn play dress that adorned her, that kept his attention now.

A life could be seen through a pair of dying eyes. As his face came into her weakening view he could see both the fear, and the hope battling there - neither winning.

Her whimpers cut through the fog of his brain, sending both pleasure and pain down his spine. Such a enchantingly sad sound, the cries of a child.

"Shush now," his voice was soft, serene almost as her ran a hand along her face, brushing a strained of the bright hair out of the way, holding it up to the sun, losing sight of her eyes for the moment to stare transfixed at the way the strained reflected the sun, "There's no need for that."

The whimpers turned more into sounds of choking as the child attempted to cough up words. The sound dragging his gaze back to hers with an almost concerned frown, "I -w-ww- Ma-ma-ma-ma."

A desperate plead for a parent. Of course, no one, child or not, wished to die alone.

"It will all be over soon," he soothed, shaking his head, a strand of long dirty blond hair falling into his face. Blood, unknowingly, smeared its way into it, darkening the colour, and tarnishing the skin on his forehead as he pushed it out of the way. "You are not alone. I'm here now. Just shush."

The gurgling halted, paused for a moment as a spasm wracked through her body, sending panic through him as it blocked his view to her eyes.

He had to see her eyes.

"A-a-a-nnnge-el? A-angel?" There seemed to be great pain in her expression as she forced her mouth to utter these words, but determination was visible behind that pain. It was important for her to get out, to ask.

Ky could see it all there.

In her eyes.

His lips curled up into a grin, as his hand resumed its stroking, brushing her soft hair out of her face, "Something like that. You are not alone. It will be better, you'll see... just, don't fight it."

Fight.

That was what they never understood. It caused more pain to fight.

Let go.

That was the moment he always looked for. The moment when they realized that it was just better to let go.

And he saw it there - a spark. It wouldn't be long now. Trust... often it just started with trust. Trust that the words of the stranger was better, than the stubborn will in their heads.

And he saw it there - a spark. It wouldn't be long now. Trust... often it just started with trust. Trust that the words of the stranger was better, than the stubborn will in their heads.

"D-do-n-" she gurgled again, though the words dying as the light in her eyes dipped, and then brightened again. Her will weakening, "N-no-l-le-eave."

With that simple request, a large grin, Cheshire in nature spread across the young man's handsome face as if someone had merely flicked a switch.

"I never do."

And with that simple promise she did it. No more pleas, no more fight. Her body relaxed slowly - that's how it always went first. The gurgling stopped, and then the shaking.

Slowly, even as the breath stopped, the eyes were still there. They still sparkled.

Mouth, body, heart, and then eyes.

Eyes were always last. The realization always there in that very last moment. As if they hadn't truly believed it until the very end, until the heart stopped betting.

And then in a flash they see it - and the eyes sparkle brighter than they ever did before. They trying to cling on to the last remaining bit of hope, even as they spoke the truth louder than any words.

They realize it was over. A bitter sweet sight. The last thought of a dying individual was always bright in there. Contentment, regret.

However they feel about it, they all think the same thing.

its really over

And then like a bat to a light bulb, they go out. Die.

Nothing dies quite like the eyes.

There was nothing like that moment, and as the light shattered from the young girls eyes, a deep shiver of emotion, pleasure the dominant one, ran down his spine.

Then, like the eyes they were gone.

And he was just a man, sitting in the snow.

And they were just a pair of blank, unseeing eyes, staring up at him.