Trigger warning: Self-harm

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He sat on his hard bed in the middle of the night, his right hand holding a rusty old knife over his left arm. Another job done. A piece of his soul bartered. A hefty amount earned. He blinked, and a warm tear wrote a eulogy on his face, leaving a trail of memories in its wake, so he let himself smile.

He placed the knife firmly on his arm, ready to lessen the pain his heart bore, feeling the older cuts tingle.

His eyes traveled around the dull room. A photograph hung on the wall in front of him. He lost track of time staring at the blonde that warmed his fallen heart as she cradled a little girl in her arms. He could picture a boy smiling at them behind the borrowed camera, ready for his turn that never came.

A faint smile—was it there?

Like a well-practiced dance routine, his eyes snapped from the photograph to the painting that hung on the opposite wall. The violence it depicted had drawn him to it the first time he'd seen the art.

In a jungle under the full moon, a pack of wolves feasted on a lifeless deer. A woman in white hid behind a tree watching wide-eyed. It was apparent to him that she'd never witnessed something so cruel, though it was completely normal for the wolves. They were predators. Hungry. Lustful. The deer lay motionless with its blood pooled beside it.

And a golden eagle sat quietly on a branch of the same tree, observing. He stared at it, his eyes questioning. Did it answer him? Had the eagle tried its best? He refused to make any excuses for it, looked down at his arm, and sliced open his skin. How else could he show the scars inside his soul? Nausea gripped him, his head lulled, and the darkness took over.

When he woke the next day, sunlight seeped through the dirty curtains. His shirt was stained red. The blood had dried on his arm.

Blinding dreams. Deafening screams. He was sick of it.

The lady in white would've tried to run, he assumed, the wolves catching up to her. The eagle would've charged on the beasts, tearing at their eyes. The woman might have died, the eagle wounded, but everything came down to a simple objective—the wolves were made an example of.