The white bunny's posture resembled one of a small petite rose. A poise rose growing straight up towards the sun to where there's warmth.

But in this place....this peculiar place held no sunshine. No light. Only crusted blood between the bricks it's built on, only the tears of regret those who sin have shed. Only....

Only a criminal in his cell.

Jack, the striped white bunny standing outside of the cell, had a very cold expression. If looks could kill, the man behind those bars would be a man no more. In fact, he isn't a man. He's a dead man.

One who's crumbling in the shadows, mentally and emotionally breaking apart. Pieces of his mind corrupt, lost by lack of understanding. Lack of being heard. He breaks, he falls. He falls....

He's taking someone down with him.

And the grime on his paws would be wiped by an internal flames built inside of him for Years. The crime he committed, washed as if by a wave of hopelessness...he'd die knowing the blood on his paws was from someone as close to a friend he's ever had

His own brother..

Jackson Savage. Only at the age of twenty five, would be murdered by his own brother. By sin, by blood..he'd shown no love.

And so, our criminal here in the cell, mutters to himself, "By sin, By blood, we show no love."

"Bryson." Jack had called to his brother.

The brown bunny sat up from its stone hard bed and glared at his brother. "Unless you're bailing me out, I don't want to see you."

Jackson sighed. "I told you, brother. That business wasn't going to work."

"It would've worked." Bryson said, approaching his brother.

He was dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit. Like all the prisoners were.
Jackson however, was wearing a suit. Dark blue with a red tie in particular.

There they were..

The two brothers, exact same height, staring each other down. "You know why I'm here, Bryson." Jackson said, linking his paws behind his back.

Bryson nodded, raising his eyebrows attempting a pleased expression. "Really? Well I'm surprised you came."

Jackson smirked. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. You remember when we were younger, always fighting?"

Bryson nodded solemnly. "And mom would make upls wear a giant shirt that we had to  both fit in to make us get along." Bryson said.

"But....the thing is, brother, there's no shirt this time. No instructions or guidance to show us how to live our life. We must experience life on our own. Grow, on our own." Jackson looked his brother deep in the eyes, ice cold blue on deep hazel brown.

"Jackson, there's no saving me." Bryson said, rolling his eyes.

"There is a cure for every mistake."

"Jackson, you were a mistake,"

Jack was taken aback by that remark from his brother. "Wh-what?"

"You and me, mistakes. Mom and dad didn't want us. They didn't care. We were brought into this world as mistakes."

Jackson slowly shook his head. No. No way would he believe that. Bryson was sick, sick in the head. But he knew his brother, he knew more about Jackson than Jackson did himself.

"That's not true..."

Bryson held a grimace expression. "Younger brother, I am telling you the truth."

"No....No you're not."

Bryson knew exactly what he was doing. Breaking down Jackson. He could easily say something of a touchy subject and have his younger brother fooled. Jackson is gullible. Easily out smarted......but only by his brother.

"Bryson, you do know what's going to happen, right?" Jackson skipped Bryson's last comment.

"Yes, death sentence. No trial, no probation, no bail, no communication, blah blah, fucking blah."

Jackson nodded, regaining his posture. "Are you ready?"

"What the hell kind of question is that? Who would be ready to die?!"

Jackson stuck his paw in his pocket and pulled out a key card. This keycard could open Bryson's cell. And only his.

Jackson planed to burn it, to never let his brother out. But, get had to.
Bryson was welcomed to a death ceremony. His own ceremony.

As Jackson reached over to unlock the cell, he heard a faint click. Not too loud. But his hearing could pick it up.

Just before he was about to turn, a small pressure lay on his back. He cursed under his breath.
He knew..

"Jackson Savage.."

Bryson grinned as he heard the familiar voice. "Get me outta this cell!" He said.

"Alright," the voice behind Jackson said.

"You know what to do."

Multiple foot steps were heard as Jackson was blind folded. He didn't say anything, he was train to use his senses.

He listened to the different voices he heard, to the pattern of the foot steps to determine where they were heading. But his ears picked up another faint click.

A loud boom of a gun going of startled Jackson.

Mainly because it was right in his ear and because he could now feel his warm blood leak from his body.

Jackson's legs began to give up on him and he fell forward on the ground, struggling to breath. More footsteps were heard and he could easily identify them as police officers.

Help.

His own brother set him up, betrayed him. Now, he lays on the cold tile floor, waiting to die.
The sad thing is, he knew it'd happen by his brother.

Bryson..

But by sin, By blood, they show no love..

                     XXXX

"Jackson! Jackson goddamnit, wake up!" An almost hoarse voice cried.

Jackson was still. Not a single movement either than his chest very slowly falling and rising. The blood in his nose was dried, his lips were cracked and split. He had to have been there for a while.

"Jackson! Please wake up! Please!" The voice cried even more.

Jackson felt like he was in an eternal sleep, he felt as though he was slipping away from the grasp of life. He heard nothing, saw nothing. He could only imagine if he was dead or not. He'd actually hoped he was dead. If he was dead, he didn't have to deal with his brother.

Some agent he was to let his own brother get to him..

"J-Jackson, please.."

His right ear twitched slightly. Then, he could hear, muffled crying. It sounded far away...so far...

The voice cried, Jackson could hear it. But when He recognized it, he knew he had to get up. He couldn't die so easily, he couldn't just give up...No. That wasn't an option.

As the voice began clearing, he could now fully hear. Jackson groaned lowly as his eyes slowly opened. Everything looked blurry, looked as though water had been poured into his eyes, drowning his pupils.

"Jackson!" The figure gasped.

He wanted to reply. Smiling...all he could do. He smiled. Giving the figure more tears.
"They, they killed most of us. They-they...." the figure talked fast, it was panicking.

"......You can't die.."

The prison. That's where he was. His vision still blurry, not alot, but slightly. "......." He tried to talk but his throat wouldn't let him.

The figure sighed. "Alright, I'm going to turn you over."

Jackson could feel the figure's paws on his side and knew this was about to hurt.

The figure quickly turned him over to his back. Where he was shot.

Jackson screamed, the pain was unbearable. Like sharp knives going down your back. He could feel the burning, the stings.

"I'm soo sorry!" The voice apologized.

Jackson had his eyes pinched closed, his breathing quickened as tears slid Dow his cheeks.

He grunted, opening his sharp blue eyes and glared at the figure. "...why....why would you-" he managed to speak and cut himself with more pain filled cries.

"I'm sorry, Jackson!"

With more harsh breathing..He replied. "..where's.....Bryson..?"

"Out of the whole prison guard, Jackson....He killed them all. All."

Jackson coughed up blood and winced at the pain. "We have to go, Jackson." The figure insisted.

....Jackson. Well, agent Jackson knew he couldn't move anymore. He'd pass out from the pain. But, he also knew he had to..

This is going to be painful....

Kisses Of The Rain..

Brotherly Betrayal