a mask of my disguise ⎮ private

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    [fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]If the canine hadn't been able to imagine what hell actually looked like beforehand, he was clearly able to put the picture together now after being within the torturous place for some time now. His own frame already growing skinny to where ribs were beginning to show themselves from lack of food as the former SunClan deputy stood out into the ring where his own paws hit against the heavy cement which was now permanently stained with splattered of dried crimson and evident suffering. He stood for a silent moment until a thick steel shifting wall slammed behind him, the sickening sound evidently causing Barnes to flinch away from the door and towards where the haughty laugher of grimy humans sounded while they stood by the chain-built dome that seemingly cut off any way of escape. Their voices were thick and loud, almost to the point where he wanted to slump into the ground and let someone kill him. Though, something kept him fighting, despite the glassy look in his hazel gaze that once long ago had been nothing but light-hearted and overly sarcastic. A pair of dog-tags hung around his neck, tight to where he was unable to take them off without scratching at his throat that already burned as if it was nothing but small grains of painful sand. Though, the feeling of steel against his chest was something eerily familiar.


    The howling, whining and growling of other creatures and humans had done nothing but mash together after a moment, into a chorus of pain. In other words, hell, once again. It all sounded like fucking...hell. Injuries littered his sides from previous fights, partially infected. Flesh hung off his sides as if he was practically rotting. He was seemingly a favorite of the fighters, with the metallic foreleg that had at first surprised the men, though now they cheered him on when slaughtering his opponent. It was evident that nearly half of all the red dried into his ebony colored was not his own, though Bucky couldn't bring himself close enough to even think of it all to be like that.


    Lost within his head. That's where he was. The look of fear within those he had murdered stained into the back of his head like a permanent scar to where whenever he closed his eyes, their faces appeared. That last glance they always gave him before himself landing final blow that drew them from the suffering and pain that he had caused. He hadn't wanted to kill them. There was nothing he craved more than the scent of the sea, and Steve. Though, whenever he inhaled now all that came towards his strong canine senses was fear and sweat. Blood and pain. Torturing of helpless kids. Animals of all kind, and to think it was all for amusement. They were all sick. Sick, so sick.


    Though, Barnes would duck his head slightly, his own shoulders slumped towards the other door to where his opponent would come from, the wild cheering and banging of the chain-fence turned into something dull as his line of sight burned into the ground, unable to blink. Refusing to shut his optics for even the slightest amount of time, for all he saw was himself in a mask and somewhere within the hissing voices of humans, Atropos' cackling laugh mixed in as well. PTSD at its finest, and it was evident that the canine was practically on his last-legs mentally and physically. Perhaps the silver prosthetic catching a glint of some reflected light, burning his sore sight for he hadn't seen natural light in days.

    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=georgia]"Ew! What is that?" Seafoam remarked, her nose wrinkling in distaste at the scene in front of her. Her friends - they were eating twoleg food! How astounding, not to mention absolutely disgusting! She frowned; didn't they worry about being seen as weak, or the same as kittypets? Sitting down whilst keeping a safe distance away from the scene as a whole, the knight would later add, "It's probably poisonous!"


    His breath was ragged, coming out in ruined puffs of spit, spit that fell from his exposed canines just to curl itself around the edges of his jaw and lips, and sometimes, from the sheer force of his breathing, it would fly completely out of his mouth and stain the dirty grounds below. His breath would hitch sometimes, too, but it was more so because he was inhaling and exhaling so much air that sometimes he had to pause and choke on nothing for a few brief moments. Wheezing sounds emitted from him eventually, and for a moment, he had to stop in his walking just to take it all in. The roaring in his ears was dreadful, and the high-pitched whining and barking of the dogs behind him made him wish that they all got fucked over later. Seriously; was the noise necessary? Not to mention the smell of piss and blood wafting from the floor and into his nose, part of which was making him choke.


    "...I've eaten them since I was young and haven't died yet."


    [i]"Maybe the poison is setting in," Seafoam suggested, making a mental picture of him choking on the day of his promotion to knight. She didn't actually want him dead, but with how annoyed and displeased she currently was, it didn't seem too bad. It actually calmed her down, a little. "Maybe you'll die a little later." Seafoam said, her frown shaping itself into a steady glare at Vulcanpaw, not at all amused.[/i]


    The lights hurt his eyes, so as the door opened, the bright bulbs that burned too brightly made his vision go white for a second ; then, as quickly as it had came, it left, leaving him to ponder in the deathly silence that had fallen over crowd as the door slammed shut behind him. Or maybe his heart was just beating too loudly for him to notice the noises, his breath amplified a hundred times and sounding right into his two, flattened ears, and each heavy breath that sounded, his heart sped up a little more, in a pace that made his chest clench in agitation as waves of pain washed over him.


    "F-f-fuck me."


    His breath was as wrecked as every other part of him was, and as if in a daze, the SunClan leader raised his cranium to peer into the crowd of humans, and although every part of him froze up in fear, his cold eyes were slightly... mesmerized. They were monsters.


    They are monsters.

    [fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]The voice that rang from where his opponent would approach sent an unwanted shiver down his spine, as if ice was seeping into his bones and locking up his joints and lungs, unable to breathe. Though, he broke it all, shattered the ice that had seemingly tried to freeze him up again. Buck then forced himself to take a step towards the center of the arena. Heavy limp within his broken gait, his own muzzle dried over with crimson making him appear much more different than the Bucky the SunClan leader associated him with. Ribs continuously poking through, and his hazel gaze unintentionally hungry and desperate. He was somewhere between Bucky Barnes and someone else in reality.


    "Seafoam?"


    It came out in an exhale, as if in disbelief. Of course, unaware to the name change. He'd stand there in a cringing-like position, line of sight burning into the familiar face. The german-shepard wasn't even sure if it brought comfort, for one of them would have to be slaughtered by the other, and without a doubt James made up his mind that he'd let the other male kill him. There was never any changing of his mind, anyways. Stubbornness was a strong trait of his. SunClan needed a leader. Who was he? Nothing of a leader. When he thought he could of protected everyone, he had been the one crumbling apart. Not even able to protect himself. "How'd you...? He cut himself off, appearing nearly desperate, like a hungry-dog. "How's Steve?" Buck was almost shaking, "Mistdream?" There was silence then, forcing his jaws shut.


    The cheering and voices of the men had seemingly distracted the other SunClanner, though James payed no attention to it as his own glossed over eyes flickered back and forth as if trying to find words within his head so that they could be spoken. Normally, if two animals did not fight, they were seemingly both killed as if agreeing that they were no longer fit. Metallic foreleg thudded into the cement as he continued so that he stood within the full-center, "You're gonna' have to kill me." Was what he said, though it was evident the male wasn't present.


    Buck hadn't ever been one to give up, though now he sounded so fucking defeated. His voice deflated and coarse as if life had painfully ripped all remaining life from him. A tortured soul, and part of him felt strangely relieved at the motion of death. This who Bucky Barnes had become, and this time there was no Steve to push him back up in order to function once again. At least he wouldn't be a burden to the golden-retriever any more. Though, somewhere within James he was screaming, shaking the mental wall that separated his thoughts into sections. He was simply locked into a part of his past now, thinking these thoughts.



    /MUSE FOR BUCKY