17His mind was a frantic whirl of madness. As he bent the creature erupting from the woman before him — such a sweet woman but all he felt was hate — to his will, his own wrecked mind succumbed to the forces of one more powerful than he. His entire right body stung with remembered pain and hurthurthurt, but stronger was the burning in his eyes and that terrible knowing of darkness. The woman screamed — but not in pain, no, she cried for her child, only just separated from herself along with her monster. He couldn't hear it over his own struggle and the voice that was not his own.
"The child, or your wife?" he offered to the man that was too familiar, clutching where his wife's stomach bled. Such a great will shined in his deep blue eyes that he couldn't help his already broken heart fracturing ever more; because a choice was spoken, but not truly given. Deep within his mind he could already feel his body anticipating the murder of the other three in the cavern.
The other man, with his fierceness where he could imagine gentleness, proceeded to battle him for the child immediately according to his wife's prompting. But even that golden man's speed could not overcome the distraction. With every move they made, the creature freed only to find shackles destroyed more of the place that sounded like home. Underneath the binding muzzle his mask effectively made, he pleaded with the golden man to stop him — after all, was it not a teacher's duty to stop his student?
Those who had once been his most precious — he didn't know them anymore, beyond the faintest tint of nostalgia — escaped the distraction he posed to deal with what had been unleashed. The woman was held up when he took the babe once more, ordering her husband to continue, however. He looked down at the squirming infant his arms instinctively cradled and found himself awed by how small it was and yet how it weathered conditions no mere newborn could possibly be expected to face. His body moved on another's orders, but his attention favored his delicate cargo. He felt a determination unfamiliar to his broken mind break through to the surface of his thoughts.
The woman with the fire hair was a destruction fighter, so against the moves of himself while he carried her child, she struggled. But just as her husband, she possessed a fierce will and refused to give up. He felt love well up in his heart for the stranger, and that provided the final push to break his captor's hold, if only momentarily.
In a sudden move that obviously shocked his opponent, he laid the babe on the bed his mother had borne him on. He grasped the edges of his mask and pulled. The airflow tasted a little like freedom, but he stuffed the pleasure away and asked the redhead instead: "Kill me. You have to kill me now while you can." He knew his eye was desperate, and his scarring pronounced his frown, but his mind was in a worse state, battling itself and tearing as chunks were shoved aside to make room for commands.
The woman did not hesitate, hardened by war and battle as she was, and he closed his eyes to the feeling of a hand shoved through his to back.
Wow, angsty much? It wasn't even that long! If anyone would like this type of thing, say so, maybe with ideas for what happens next. I'm not even completely sure what inspired this!