First Incision

A portion of a piece I've been putting together re: Lucian and Thresh, wanted to see what y'all thought, so thanks for taking the time to read it!

He drives the hook in once more. There should be pain. Somewhere, there's a man with my face that feels it. A man that hears the slick wetness of blood running over stone, the muffled rip of muscles tearing, the shrill screech of iron scraping bone. A man that sees The Warden standing over him, peering back with narrow, empty slits backed by an unearthly green glow.

But in here, in the Box, that pain is miles away. In here, it's only me and the Voice, a raspy snake's rattle that whispers and murmurs to me unceasingly. In here, I see it all in a blur. Her hand in mine. Relief. The rustle of chains. A snake's rattle and a scream. Fear. My hand, empty. Fear. Her eyes. Fear. The Lantern.

Her hand in mine. Relief. The rustle of chains. A snake's rattle and a scream. Fear. My hand, empty. Fear. Her eyes. Fear. The Lantern.

So quick, and yet all I can do is live each moment, immerse myself in every aspect of my failure. Her hand in mine. If I had held tighter. Relief. If I had stayed alert. The rustle of chains. If I'd thought. A snake's rattle and a scream. If I'd looked. Fear. If...

"...go on..."

...If I'd been stronger, if I'd just been able to snuff out the trepidation that choked my actions, if...

"...oh this is delightful, I must admit. Here I think I've seen it all and yet there you lay sprawled on the cold earth, desperately refusing to acknowledge the truth that dangles in front of your face.

I want you think, Lucian. Think about all those silent hours you spent here in this...ah, this wonderful place. Who do you think consumed her thoughts as you picked your way through my trail? Who do you think she...obsessed over, as she dragged you along deeper into this beautiful mire. That lost little soul I took from Piltover? Its weeping...wretch of a mother who convinced you both to set out after me?

You?

Come now, Lucian. You're many things, but you're not a fool."

I can't keep the words from spilling out. "Hatred," I snarl. The sound of my voice echoes in the dark of the Box. "She thought of you with hatred. For what you've done, what you did to that boy."

"Oh Lucian, that's a child's defense. Hatred....Love....

...Lust....

*...All faces of the same die, all...scars on the same body. Passion, Lucian, Passion is what she felt. Passion is what drives people, not pain, not fear, not loss. Her Passion drove her to me, her Passion pushed her further and further into these dark woods as you...tagged along. Passion is what kept you both out here, worn and alone and afraid, for days longer than you ever should have stayed. And, of course, Passion is what drove me to such...elaborate measures to ensure her delivery to me. Passion won't be denied, Lucian. *

Do you understand what I'm trying to explain to you...?

I'm granting you passage out of this; you don't need to live with your failure anymore. To fail would imply that there was ever the chance of success. I simply want you to understand that you could not have saved her. Her Passion drove her to me...and mine drew her. You were simply caught in the middle.

So relinquish the guilt you feel. Shed the irons of fault that you've crafted for yourself. Accept the truth of what I'm telling you...end this pain.

Relax, just...let go."