Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just playing in Naughty Dog's sand box.

Warnings: Violence, blood, and torture. Also, spoilers for the end of Jak 3.

A gift fic for Otana.


Dark eco crackled in the air all around him. Rage and pain, the thirst for blood, the need to make things end - that was his entire existence. His ears sang with the screams that ripped through the air, but it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He buried his teeth in his victim's neck.

You were the son of the great warrior Damas.

A snarl tore itself from his throat and the blood in his mouth turned to ash. It didn't matter that the pitch of the screams had changed, from tortured to desperate agony. The man was still alive, his heart was still beating, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't FAIR!

Oh, and he never knew...

With a cry he pulled his teeth away and plunged his claws into the man's stomach instead. The man's back arched and he thrashed, but the dark creature's other hand pinned him in place. Slowly he raked his fingers up. Blood, bright blood, spilled out from the wounds.

And the dark eco hungrily sank inside.

How delightful.

He pushed his hand in further. He wanted to reach in and squeeze the man's heart, to rip it out of his body, then shove it into his mouth. He wanted this man to suffer for what he'd done. He wanted to turn his world to pain. His claws dug in, ripping and shredding, tearing their way through raw flesh. The other man's screams reached a peak.

Then suddenly tapered off.


The silence was so loud it was deafening. No more cries, no more screams, no more agony.

"Jak, buddy?"

That voice didn't count. That voice wasn't his. Why wasn't the other man screaming? He didn't deserve to be silent!

"Jak, he... he's dead. You can let go now. Anytime. Y'know...?"

The Other voice kept on talking, and slowly it started to penetrate. Sometimes it was the only thing he could really hear when he was in this state. His body shuddered as the madness began to recede.

You were the son of the great warrior Damas.

He pulled his hand from Veger's belly, and blood, still warm, dripped from it freely. He stared at it, not really comprehending what it represented. All he could see was another man's blood, another life fading beneath him.

And he never knew...

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair. Grief welled up inside him to take the place of rapidly fading rage.

As Daxter placed a paw on his best friend's shoulder, Jak curled up and cried.