Twinkle

Twinkle

Little—star.

Have you ever

Left a scar.

Up above the world you

Fly;

Like a sparrow drop and

Die—

___________________________

The snowy owl could feel the weight in his legs and the burning gaze of the sun on his back.

There was an immense loathing for days like these—when he was forced to stay awake on an ugly morning searching for useless prey when he already had one.

A silly game, he had always thought.

I don't need any of them.

But V had her hold over every single one of the Hearts; and it was no surprise that she did have Slayne in the palm of her hand as well.

And so he played the game.

He had to.

The Nocturne's pupils were reduced to slits—eyes sensitive to the rays of sunlight that burst through gaps in the canopy of trees above.

Slayne cursed silently.

He leaned against the trunk of a tree, closing his eyes for a moment as he sent his Avian to scout ahead. And in the brief solitude of darkness that Slayne found, he seemed to hear the voice of his prey;

A song—

The one he always loved to hear.

It lasted for an instance; fleeting. Almost like his kiss—

His eyes snapped open, darting in the direction of the slight wind he had picked up. The back of a barn owl was visible to the Winged, darting between branches that hung low and trees that rose high, blocking out the sky.

Mauri.

He wasn't a friend, per se. An acquaintance was more likely. Slayne noted from the owl's careless flight that he wasn't in his best condition either—knocking senselessly into avoidable branches and making unnecessary noise in flight was not how an owl flew silently to catch its prey.

The snowy owl informed its Winged that there was a clearing up ahead; and suggested they meet up with Mauri and his barn owl to form a temporary alliance.

So that they could alternate between watch duty and rest.

Why did the games have to start by dawn? The owl sighed, breaking into a sprint to catch up with Mauri's Avian, ensuring that it stayed within his sight—

There was a shriek in the distance and Slayne could feel the fear settling in the depths of his heart, nestling; manifesting from within.

It wasn't a good sign to hear the vulture barely an hour after the start of the game, and the Nocturne couldn't seem to shake off the strangely unsettling forest that seemed to be laughing at him. He didn't stop to think about Vaughn, or why this particular game didn't appear to be in his favour at all.

Slayne figured that he'd do something about it when the time came.

____________________________

The air was silent; pegged with an unfeeling stillness—before something fell from above; a flash of white and brown.

Io's brought his arms up in reflex, shielding his head against the unknown that came flying straight at his face. He heard what he thought was a screech of an owl followed by the violent scuffle of feet across the forest ground—undergrowth abundant and crisp beneath their shoes.

Lyra's voice was hoarse in the Mark's mind; raspy and choked, as if someone had released her from the verge of suffocation. What was that?

The boy scrambled upright, daring his eyes to face what was before them as he backed away unconsciously—prepared to flee.

Slayne had not expected this at all.

Not the fact that the sparrow he saw just last night was standing before him with trembling fingers and wide eyes; nor the fact that his dear pet's friend was the one standing before him with trembling fingers and wide eyes; and certainly not the fact that this friend was wearing the mark of the Joker.

He doesn't know what he's gotten himself into. He was thinking—unlike the sparrow in front of him.

Io was busy with the loud thump in his ears and the visible darkness in his heart. The close proximity of yet another predator sent his heart running before he did—and that was exactly what he decided to do.

Slayne snapped from his thoughts the moment Io turned on his heel to escape, hand reaching out instinctively to grab hold of Io's upper arm.

The sparrow felt a shock of rising fear from his stomach. He jolted; mistaking the rising fear for the urge to throw up. His heart was on his tongue.

Slayne had not meant any harm.

After all, his lack of interest in weaklings was far more prominent than any other predator he knew of. But what was it about this sparrow that made him care?

That's right, he thought, he was Jiro's friend.

What was this idiot doing in the games? And with a number that only screamed death?

The Nocturne refused to let go.

What would his pet do if the sparrow died?

The sparrow was useless in the predator's grasp. The pressure on his upper arm felt as if the flow of blood had been cut off completely and he was starting to feel faint.

He couldn't let him die.

The last thing he wanted to see was pain in those beautiful eyes that sang songs of the night. Slayne would not allow that.

The owl was left with two options; taking the Joker's mark for his own and claiming the sparrow as his own till the exit then releasing him, or letting him go but guiding him towards the exit as safely as possible.

No.

Both options were useless.

The last thing he wanted was to catch Vaughn's attention; for that would mean the headmistress would be watching him too. Eyes.

Slayne didn't want eyes; he didn't want spies.

The second option was too risky—

The owl caught the slight alteration in the width of Io's pupils; they constricted in fear.

He picked that up in a blink, unsheathing the dagger at his hip and spinning around to see the edge of a similar weapon an inch away from his face—

Slayne ducked; pulling the sparrow down with him and releasing his grip on the boy's arm to regain his balance. The Nocturne glanced at the attacker.

Mauri.

He had thought the vulture's screech was enough to send the other Nocturne fleeing the scene.

Recovering swiftly, Slayne swept an outstretched leg at Mauri's shin—knocking off the latter's balance and sending him falling towards the ground.

He wasted no time in pointing the tip of the dagger between the barn owl's eyes.

_______________________________

Io felt as if his heart was everywhere.

It was in his chest; pounding against the bars of its cage and in his ears; excruciatingly loud with every beat of its wings and in his mouth; ready to escape from nausea—

Yet, the thought of his present heart made the boy realize with a strange shock that he was, indeed, alive. And it was the pounding against the cage; the beat in his ears; the nausea in his gut that led him to such an obvious and simple realization.

Io pushed himself upright as soon as he felt the snowy owl loosen his grip on his upper arm. He made sure that his bag of biscuits and water was slung safely across his chest, and then he took off in the opposite direction.

There was no looking back from now; he could hear someone's cry from behind. He didn't know who it was.

A whisper in his heart found a growing weed that rooted itself from within—one that Io couldn't rid of.

The boy was surprised, pleasantly or not, by the appearance of his roommate's predator. The one he had met just the night before.

He didn't catch his name.

But he had wondered then—whether he should bet on the snowy owl as a friend; or just a mere predator after all.

He caught his curiosity at that moment, stuffing it in a cage before a twist of the lock.

Predators were not their allies.

Friends was more than just crossing the line.

Io knew perfectly well that this wasn't the time to be gullible; to trust one as easily as he would have. After all, Jiro's predator was doing this for the sake of the game too.

There was nothing else he could do.

It took a minute for Io to realize that the forest was still with a ghostly silence.

There was not a sound of a cricket; nor was there a weep of a cicada. The ground beneath his feet was strangely clear of fallen branches and the crunch of dead leaves. Trees did not sway.

Sound was absent—and it was as if Life was stolen along with it.

For a moment, Io thought it was just the sound of his heart that decided to block out the rest of the world.

Lyra rested on a low branch of a nearby tree, eyes scanning the distance ahead while her Winged tried hard to revive his breath from the gripping pain of the dead sprint before.

Fingers weak, he reached for water—but that was when he realized that a part of his canvas bag was wet.

The sun raged in the cloudless sky, piercing rays finding their way through the gaps in the canopy of trees above to rain on littered spots of the forest ground. A heated breeze brushed the tips of Io's hair; weak.

With the arrival of first light came a persistent heat that seemed to wash away the chill of morning mist.

Io could not comprehend—it was nearing the end of fall.

The sun was not supposed to be raging.

Io swallowed nervously, glancing down at the obvious crack in his canteen and trying hard to recall a possible cause.

Was it before? When the first predator had pushed him to the ground—

There were endless possibilities and none of them had the power to change his current situation.

It was handicap after handicap, and Io wasn't even sure whether he could find the exit with the charm on his neck that screamed death and a broken canteen.

Victory had been out of reach since the start—as if they had prepared him for defeat in his heart. But—no.

This wasn't the time to brood.

He was thirsty.

A river.

A lake—Harper had said.

Lyra caught on quickly, reading Io's flow of thought and flying higher to search for a water source up ahead.

There were questions in his head that thirsted for answers; so much more than it craved for cool water slipping down his throat.

He needed time to think.

The unpleasant mess that stirred in his heart alone was a source of discomfort; that he had no one to share his questions or answers with—he was even more disturbed.

All of a sudden, Io wished he wasn't alone. After all, sparrows were social creatures.

He felt... rather lonely.

_______________________________

Slayne had always been good at predicting.

Whether it was a future decision by himself or someone else; the progress of a relationship; the weather; or even the focus topic for year-end examinations—

He always had the instinct for such forecasts.

Therefore, the Nocturne found himself not pleasantly surprised when he turned to see that the sparrow was nowhere in sight.

It was partly his fault, really; that he let his attention stray off the path and stay that way for a significant while. Mauri had kept him successfully occupied—eyes wide as he thrust his dagger repeatedly.

Slayne was puzzled. Mauri was never one to harm other predators, but perhaps it was the sight of the Joker's charm that woke a sleeping monster from within, igniting a part of his desire for victory.

What are you doing? The snowy owl had hissed, connecting with the Predator's Link to establish a line between his and Mauri's thoughts.

Mauri knew that the sparrow wouldn't be able to hear his thoughts, since he was a prey, but he was cautious—focusing on holding back the voice of his mind before he was ready.

A Heart like you wouldn't understand.

And pointing your dagger at me would allow me to? Slayne chanced a grab at his fellow predator's wrist, squeezing it tight till the other dropped his weapon with a cry. Get a grip Mauri.

Fuck—let go! The shout of pain in his head was far louder than the one that slipped past his lips. Slayne let go, taking into account that he was disarmed after kicking the dagger further away.

He was...it was a... Mauri's thoughts were strings of yarn that he himself was unable to rid of knots and tangles. A Joker. I've never met one before...I thought I would never meet one.

But I heard Vaughn, you did too, didn't you? The barn owl searched Slayne's gaze, confused when he saw nothing reflected in those cold blue orbs unlike the fear and panic that resided in his. I don't know. I don't know what got into me. I thought he was near, so I ran at first—but then it turned out to be you...so I-I...I tried.

Slayne raised a brow, as if unimpressed. Yes, I'm obviously far less dangerous than Vaughn, aren't I? Wow.

Tsk, that wasn't what I meant. Mauri kicked a bunch of dead leaves that littered the forest ground. He was tired.

His lids felt slightly heavier than it was before, and his limbs weren't moving the way he willed them to.

Mauri cut off the Predator's Link between him and Slayne, resting his back against the trunk of a tree with an exhausted sigh.

No longer in the mood to seek for an ally, Slayne turned on his heel to search for the Joker.

His Avian followed suit, taking off in silent flight.

The Nocturne asked his heart a simple question;

Why?

Why go for the Joker?

He could leave it to Vaughn. As he always did; stayed out of the stupid drama going on between mother and son and the rest of the predators.

He could just leave things the way they were. Save himself the trouble—maybe even drop Vaughn a hint. After all, Vaughn would always reward those who helped.

He'd get their number for them.

Slayne would save the trouble roaming for days while trying to find the Mark that had the matching number charm; and even see his beloved nightingale as soon as possible—

So why not?

Why the hell was he—

Since when did caring for someone meant that you had to care for the people they cared for, too?

Why was loving just one person so fucking hard?

_____________________________

Lyra could see no end to the Box.

It was just trees—and trees everywhere without the trace of a single landmark. She feared of flying any higher; dared not risk attracting the attention of Predators with her fluttering movement.

Their eyes were everywhere.

She told Io of a spotted clearing ahead, one that appeared to be far bigger than the one they encountered earlier. His Avian voiced the possibility of a water source—but was also quick to warn him that he might not be the only one there.

Io accepted the risk readily, glancing up at the canopy of trees above as he tried to figure out how long he had been walking in this specific direction.

There was a point of time where he thought it would be best to stay and rest; but it soon clicked in his mind that there would be no progress.

He'd be no nearer towards the exit—the end of it all—

Which he was really starting to look forward to.

Moreover, the sparrow knew that if action was not something he chose now, dusk would claim him.

Sundown.

Io didn't even want to think about it now.

About what he would do when the night arrived.

How he'd protect himself then.

His breath trembled—almost like a weak blossom in the wind.

The boy and his Avian trudged onward till the clearing was in sight, hiding behind a tree before Lyra scanned the area ahead.

She didn't need to, really. Because as soon as she did, Io heard footsteps.

They were coming from the clearing—the rustling of grass.

Oh bother, Lyra grumbled at the back of Io's mind, the trees! Ugh, they block me all the time. And now we have company...oh this can't get any better, can it?

Io sighed internally, agreeing in a silent disposition.

He adjusted his body, trying hard to get a glimpse of what was to come. They were quite a distance away after all.

And Io was curious.

Of course he was.

*

A young lady appeared, her Avian nowhere in sight. She had another girl in tow, which the sparrow immediately recognized as the kiwi he saw that day at the briefing.

The kiwi didn't seem to be resisting at all; and was at her companion's heels as they stopped near a water source that looked very much like a...well. Io found it so peculiar, and interesting at the same time.

The two females stood by idly, as if waiting for something.

Or someone, for the matter—for it wasn't long before Io heard more quiet footsteps from the opposite direction.

It was a light-haired male; crossing the clearing and making his way towards the two with a lazy smirk on his face. His Avian hovered above, watching them closely.

Io couldn't identify the species exactly—refraining himself from doing anything risky that might give out his position.

Though brief, it only took a glance for Io; and an uneasy lurch in his heart; for him to realize that the student was not someone he'd like to know.

All the sparrow inferred from his instincts was that the male was a predator, and he deemed that knowledge clearly sufficient.

The conclusion was simple: to not meddle in their affairs.

The blonde male went up to the pair, stopping quite a distance away before he dangled something in the air—as if it was bait.

Io couldn't quite see what it was but his Avian was quick to answer his question.

It was a black choker. One that was similar to his.

The taller female advanced, holding out her hand as if to demand her prize.

He laughed, shaking his head before pointing at the girl behind her.

The kiwi.

A trade?

Was that what they were doing? Io couldn't help but marvel at the different ways in which each predator sought victory. He waited patiently, watching as the kiwi trudged over to the male predator's side while he tossed the black choker towards his fellow predator.

The taller female caught it swiftly, glancing at the charm to ensure it was the correct number.

They nodded vaguely, as if in acknowledgement—before parting ways; the blonde male going back in the direction he came from, but now with a Mark in tow; while the other student stood her ground.

Io could feel a heated thirst clawing at the back of his throat.

He swallowed, willing the predator to move on as soon as possible so that he could use the well.

But she didn't move.

Standing idly with her arms folded, she sat on the edge of the well—not appearing to be concerned by the fact that she might fall.

Or if she did, she didn't bother.

Was she waiting for someone else?

Io questioned curiously, eager to witness more but at the same time hoping that she'd get her business over and done with.

There was, however, nothing he could do even if the girl refused to move from her current position.

He found it strange that her Avian was nowhere in sight.

Lyra voiced something odd.

Something about the girl using the well as bait.

Her Winged thought about it for a moment, pausing as if to connect the dots. He wouldn't jump to conclusions, but all evidence seemed to be pointing him towards that suggestion.

Furthermore, it didn't help that he, too—had that thought at the back of his mind.

He left the scene in a hurry, footsteps reluctant and heavy. The draw of the well seemed to become stronger the more he walked away from it.

But there was nothing he could do.

_____________________________

The sky was turning a dreamy orange—a dust of red mixed with a faded cloak of purple staining the middle.

With the sun drawn towards the horizon, Io knew that the harshest time of the day was to come with a vengeance.

Perhaps it was the fierce train of unfortunate events; or the sweltering heat that began to wither and die; or the fact that all of Io's luck had been accumulated to be used at a point of time like this—

A point of time where desperation seemed to find him at the edge, trapped in a cage—

When the sparrow found a hidden resting spot that seemed undiscovered.

He had stumbled over a wooden peg that protruded out of the ground; camouflaged by the undergrowth that creeped across the forest floor. Io had cursed his heavy feet, but soon realized that he should be thanking them instead the moment he saw a rope extending from it.

Curious eyes followed, and he came across a forest-green tent that was well hidden by leafy overhanging branches. The front of the tent was blocked by a convenient slope, preventing other players from discovering the resting spot easily.

Io marveled at the luck he had.

And Lyra couldn't help but agree with a happy chirp.

Inside the tent, Io found himself a sleeping bag; an inflatable pillow; a matchbox; and a change of clothes. It was a convenient find, he had to admit.

Although he had never seen an inflatable pillow before, and was particularly curious about it.

The change of clothes—unfortunately—included a camouflage shirt that was far too large for Io and a pair of trousers that should have been unisex but was clearly the size of a grown man's.

Naturally, the fourteen-year-old had a physique that...well, had a fairly long way to go before it could be deemed as 'fully grown'.

Io pouted with a sigh.

He had been content with the inflatable pillow, however, and was quick to rest his pounding head on its cool surface.

Upon Lyra's reminder, the boy opened a packet of biscuits—finding that they were broken beyond salvation. He forced a couple down his throat, leaving the crumbs for his Avian before realizing that his eyelids were...

Rather heavy...

No. It's not...not the time to...

_____________________________

Io woke to the sound of something scratching at the top of his tent.

He bolted upright.

The sound was loud, almost disturbing; and he assumed that it was the sole reason he was awake.

Lyra hopped around, wings fluttering in a nervous disposition.

They could not identify what it was.

A squirrel, perhaps?

That was what he had hoped indeed.

Oh how he'd thank the Moon if it had been a squirrel—for it was not.

There was, soon, the crunch of dead leaves.

It got louder, crossing the right side of Io's tent...and then stopping at the flap.

The sparrow couldn't seem to breathe—for all he knew, he had forgotten how to.

He realized, on the same note, that he had also forgotten something else.

He had forgotten to close the entrance of the tent.

It was open.

The flaps shivered, fluttering once at a light breeze.

He saw a foot.

Io didn't know what to do—there was nowhere to run

He had thought he could hide but—no,

There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide and the boy found

Himself trapped like a harmless sparrow staring into the eyes of a

Hungry snake ready to eat.

There was no weapon there was nothing he could defend himself with there was fear and only fear that was never a weapon but a cage—

A gust of wind blew;

And the tent trembled in its might.

The flaps shivered once more, as if in a violent gasp to reveal—eyes.

Oh they were huge; they were glowing and they

were

fear.

It was a great grey owl and it was the largest thing Io had ever seen

Its face larger than his own and it stared like it knew it was the largest thing Io had ever seen—

The sparrow recoiled in a silent scream, pushing himself further into the tent

But what could that do?

Io knew that he had made a stupid decision and he regretted it immediately. The owl and his Winged did not move.

They merely stood still, as if knowing that there was no escape.

The next thing the sparrow did he made sure he would not regret and that was to grab his bag of amenities and sling it over his shoulder.

He took the matchbox, fingers trembling, fumbled for a stick and struck the side to light a flame.

The flame burned—

And before Io knew what he was doing, he bolted out of the tent; bracing himself for the impact of another body

He threw the matchstick, alit, flames stronger than the beat of his heart

At the Avian that had a wingspan equivalent to that of his own height.

The sparrow knew nothing about that.

The force of his charge coupled with the flinch of the burn was enough to knock the Nocturne off balance, and he staggered backwards from the impact—surprised at the boy's valiant attempt at resistance.

For some reason, Io could see. He could see where he was going and that was not what he had expected at all.

A veil of moonlight cast itself upon the slope, illuminating the forest grounds with dreamy spots of white filtered by the canopy of trees above.

Io broke into dead sprint and he knew not where his energy came from.

The short rest he took?

His fingers trembled

He didn't know whether the matchstick had hit its target—owls were faster than that, he was certain. It would have dodged that easily...would it?

His eyes were alit, as if by the flame he had struck before

Strange, curious.

He stuffed the matchbox in his bag, running, running—

Lyra was having trouble navigating, flying low to avoid overhanging branches that might slow her down and afraid of flying above the trees for fear that the great grey owl was on their tracks.

He hasn't seen my number.

It's okay, he doesn't know. He doesn't know that I'm the Joker—

He wouldn't give chase, would he?

Io couldn't hear anything from behind and for that, he was relieved.

Perhaps he had forgotten how owls were, as predators.

The silent ones that flew from behind only to sink their talons into the flesh of their unguarded prey—

Something grabbed the collar of Io's blazer

He jerked, hard; falling back—

The sparrow reached for his charm, to hide his identity but the Nocturne was faster.

He pulled sharply on the back of Io's choker

Cutting off all air with a harsh jerk.

Io choked as if death had enclosed itself around his neck—

His vision blanked out for a second before he was gasping and clawing at the hand behind

But to no avail

It hurt,

The pressure against his windpipe made him feel like throwing up and

He was suffocating—

He was hallucinating.

For Io had heard an eagle's call.

But eagles...didn't fly at night.

Did they?

______________________________

A/N:

Which reminds me, the picture above is a Great Grey Owl and to me, it is the scariest of them all because its face is...just so...I get the shivers just from looking at it. Help, I'm a prey after all.

-Cuppiecake.

Happy New Year my dears.

May it be a curious one ahead, where you will brave the new and treasure the old.