as written by Dashmiel
In the murky half-light of morning filtering through in small beams through the boarded up windows, Ragenard's prone form could be seen sleeping awkwardly upon the room's small cot. His legs hung fully off the bed from the knees down and if one were to listen carefully in the morning stillness, the faint sound of the bed supports groaning in whispered protest would have been subtly audible underneath the cadence of the man's deep breaths.
He was still dressed in nothing but a slightly faded pair of dark camouflage cargo-shorts and upon his bare chest laid Baron's cellphone, where it had lain since Ragenard finally succumbed to slumber after a long while of pondering the object and making plans.
Suddenly the silence was shattered by a shrill ringing tone, a powerful and relentless cacophony that seemed almost alive as it continued to steadily grow stronger. Ragenard awoke with a start, hackles on the rise and eyes beginning to flash from hazel to amber. The noise was joined by a powerful feeling of vibrating pressure in Ragenard's chest, a pressure that felt as if the weight of the world were running loose through his innards and tearing everything in it's path apart.
With a grimace, Ragenard picked up his brother's ringing phone and answered the call, taking a second to note the "unknown" on the device's tiny screen.
"You're a monster you know. I tried to ignore your nature, but then the bodies started piling up." The voice of James Guiscard, unmistakeable. But also somehow...wrong, Ragenard thought. Distant, cold, faded, and muted. As if the speaker on the other end was whispering from within a deep well.
"W-What? James, what are you going on about, where are you?" Ragenard asked.
"You killed me the same way, you know. The way you killed mother. The way you killed her. The same way you'll kill them. You'll kill them all, whether it's with your hate or with your love. Monster." the voice whispered, it's last word echoing faintly far too long after the voice ceased.
"No. NO, that's not true. That's not how it went down, don't you pin this on me, you bastard!" Ragenard raged.
"All you are is Rage, you know. Insatiable hunger for ruin is your trade. Can't you hear it? The sound of rushing blood and screams? The cries of panic and plea? You can't turn your back on what you are. Monster." whispered the voice, the trailing song of it's condemnation now joined in chorus by the sounds of endless victims caught in the engines of never ending war.
"I didn't ask for this...I didn't. Why? Why?" Ragenard sobbed.
"It's coming, you know. On the wake of the laughing moon, it comes. It shares your rage, but it feasts on your love. It happened once, and now it'll happen again. Can you feel it? Can you feel it down in your balls?" whispered the voice, the voice that no longer sounded like his brother. It's chorus of curses and suffering was supplemented by a rush of heat to Ragenard's nether regions.
"I don't want this. I never wanted this. Not again, I won't be able to control any more!" Ragenard pleaded.
"We don't have a choice, you know. I didn't ask to be any more than you did." whispered Ragenard's dead voice from the phone, and when it's whisper died, silence re-asserted itself and blanketed the room once more.
"On the wake of the laughing moon." Ragenard knew.
