Silence

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by jkrowlingjr

by jkrowlingjr

Silence

“It is not noises that awakens a drunken man, but silence.”

-George Blagden

There was an eerie silence settling over the Musain. It startled Grantaire, who jolted awake as though someone had shouted at him. The usual noises were absent, the sounds of books thudding to a close, boots stomping, the old wood creaking and papers rustling. Enjolras! Where was his voice? His commanding tone? Only silence greeted the drunken boy. This bothered Grantaire who was used to hearing noises after he woke up from an alcohol induced coma and staggering into the meetings.

Grantaire quickly slipped on his boots and exited the room hidden under the staircase. He blearily registered bodies scattered on the floor, some seemed familiar but he was too drunk to recognize any faces. Grantaire rounded the corner and headed up the stairs.

He was three fourths up the staircase when he heard a chorus of angels. Grantaire quickened his pace and was at the landing when he noticed a thick red liquid pouring from bodies on the floor, soaking into the soles of boots wholly unfamiliar to him. He ascended and felt his heart stop.

Enjolras was surrounded by French soldiers, their guns pointed at his chest. Grantaire pushed past the soldiers to get to Enjolras.

Enjolras’ blue eyes were empty of emotion, of life. Grantaire could see that he was completely broken. He could see Enjolras’ soul torn to bits, littering the floor amongst the bodies.

“I’ve killed you all.” Enjolras said weakly. “I’m sorry R.”

Grantaire started to protest but he then caught a glance of his friends, of Bahorel, Courfeyrac and Joly lying on the old wooden floor, their eyes still open. “We’re the only ones aren’t we?” he asked. Enjolras nodded.

“Will you permit it?” Grantaire asked, pulling Enjolras’ hand into his own.

Enjolras nodded again. Grantaire felt a tight squeeze on his hand, heard a loud blast and then nothing. Silence again.