Petrov had seen better days. He found himself hiding like a creature of his stature should; In the dark, far from those he hurt. Those he could hurt. Those- Those innocents. The first image brought to the front of his mind was of a rose. He could imagine it in his bear-like hands, cradling it. It held his attention for a mere moment, until he lifted up his head. In his grand vision, he saw the sunlight, shining off her dark hair. Her green eyes gave a slight glimmer, and her smile held their secret.
"Treasure it." She'd said, placing herself down next to him. "It's a gift, from me." She was tiny, compared to him. He could break her with a gentle squeeze, and he constantly held himself back for her. Even if this lady was stronger than the rest of her peers, he had to keep it back. It being his strength. She brushed her hand against the back of his neck. "Is something wrong?" She spoke, the words oh-so light. Her face showed her kindness, her concern.
Petrov's voice was hoarse, yet he responded to the vivid vision. "I'm. I'm not- Heikki. He's going to be killed. And- And I don't know if I want to. Y'know, kill him…" His voice trailed off, as the ghost of his lover got closer. The vision of the girl cupped his face. "Would he do the same to you?" Her question echoed through him, to even the present. He leaned in, trying to kiss the light. Instead, he toppled downward. The force rippled through the cell, and a chain that held up a bed snapped. The noise disturbed the fellow cellmates. Their cries and wails to mock him, of course, triggered the guards.
A few came down the hallway, and one in particular stopped at Petrov's cell. Her face turned into a grim frown. "What was that sound?" Her voice tugged at the edge of Petrov's rabid mind. He craved her voice, he yearned for it again. At this time, Petrov had leaned his back against the wall. "Bed snapped." He said, slouching down. He didn't like this, this lady who thought she could come here.
Petrov was starved of violence. He slammed his fist against the wall. The rest of the bed fell, and the lady opened the cell. "... Wha's y'er name?" She spoke, quietly. She truly didn't recognize him. Petrov's face was haggard looking, with facial hair sprouting. It was matted, and his tusks were in disarray. The lady slung a torch over, lighting the room up. She took one look at him. His eyes were dazzled, and he replied in a moment of stunned stupor. "Petrov. Son of Heikki."
She tsked. "Petrov, you shouldn't destroy where you have to live." She moved her way over to him, and she squatted down next to him. Her face showed the same kindness, as it had before. Petrov's madness was paralyzed. She cupped his face with her free hand, her fingers tangled up in the messy patches of hair growing. "... I can't do a thing. Here. Petrov, stay strong." Her voice had dropped into a whisper at that point. The wails had stopped a while back, and the small amount of fellow guards had left.
She placed a small kiss on Petrov's forehead. "... Stay strong, for Emilia." And with that, she reset back to default. She moved out of the cell, taking the light of his life with her. Petrov let out a maddened roar, and bent back. Life is unfair to him. Unfair to Petrov, to his love, to anyone who had the misfortune to be around him.
OOC: I have written this story with permission to use Petrov. Ledilote has read it and confirmed it is valid.
