[Drabble - Life is but a Dream]
It's late at night, too late, and he's dreaming, though the colors are too real, too vivid, for it to be just a simple dream.
A field, halfway between my pasture and his crops. He said he wanted to talk to me about something, and I wasn't sure what it was. I had a suspicion, but surely he couldn't be angry about that. Could he?
"Brother... Cain... what is it?"
He whirled around and glared at me. "Why did He accept yours over mine?!"
Angry, why was he so angry? "Ah... I don't know, brother. I suppose maybe He was just in the mood for lamb rather than fruits and vegetables..."
I had never seen him this angry before. Cain was shaking, pure rage on his face. "I toil and toil, try to get the earth to give up its bounty, and for what? For it to be thrown in my face?! You just have to watch the sheep and ward off the wolves! It's not as if you do real work!"
I took a step backwards, and tripped over my sandal. Cain loomed above me. "I... I'm sorry, Cain! Please don't be angry..."
A dark look flashed over Cain's face. "The Lord wants blood, does He? I'll give Him blood!" When had that rock gotten into his hand? I didn't have any more time to think about it, before Cain struck it against my skull, hard enough to leave me dazed. I touched a hand to my hair, feeling it come away sticky.
"C-Cain, please..." I whimpered, trying to scoot back. Cain caught hold of my robe and then grabbed me by the throat, thumbs pressing against my windpipe.
"I'm sorry, brother, but the Lord wants blood, and blood He shall have." He struck my head with the rock again and again, staining the ground red, until I felt a sudden searing pain and my vision went black.
I could feel my soul being ripped from my body, a pain akin to bathing in a lake of fire. I was aware of nothing but pain, and then I could feel my soul being torn into tiny pieces.
... I saw a million points of light, some closer and some further away. I suddenly realized that these were pieces of my soul, scattered throughout humanity through the near and distant future. And one larger and brighter light, though it hurt to look at - Cain. He would be the same point of light throughout history.
My poor brother... I would have wept, but I no longer had eyes. I would have held him, but I no longer had arms. I would have spoken words of forgiveness, but I no longer had lips to speak from nor breath to use to say anything.
One day I would tell him that I forgave him. Until that day, I would hope that the mes throughout history would help ease his pain.
He sat up in his bed, drenched in a cold sweat. One of his generals looked in on him, and he waved them off, putting his head in his hands.
It was just a dream... right?