He struck me! I don't believe it! He struck me!

Leor Avari fell back from the force of the sudden blow, catching himself on the light green bed curtains before losing his balance completely. The man he called Master stood not two feet away, the smell of vodka strong on him.

Up until a second ago, he was being so sweet, like he always is. Is this what alcohol can do to a person? Oh, I shouldn't have let him have so much!

"Ya look hurt. It'z yur own falt ya know. Ya shouldn't haf rubbed me tha way," said the Master, voice slurred under the influence. All Leor had done was nuzzle up to his Master like he always did at the end of the day. What was wrong with that? Wasn't that what his Master had wanted? Nevertheless, reason would not be reached in the Master's head, and Leor didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"Master, maybe you should just lie down. I don't think you're in any condition for much else tonight," Leor offered, careful not to go by his instincts and touch the man to make him listen.

"Shaddup!" yelled the Master, hand flying again, and, this time, sending Leor crashing to the floor. "I dun nee a friggin' bedtime like sum wussy baybee!"

Perhaps it's best to leave him alone for a while. Leor reasoned. Yes, that seemed like the best thing to do. He turned to leave, facing the direction of the bathroom. He could sleep in some of the foliage on the floor. It wouldn't be that bad. Suddenly, though, he felt his Master's strong hand grab his arm. Turning back, he saw a look of hazy anger in his Master's eyes.

"Did I say yu culd go?!" yelled the Master, yanking Leor back onto the bed with one swift wrist motion.

This is so confusing! First, he hits me like he doesn't want me, and now he's pulling me back in! I don't like this. I don't like this.

As the Master leaned closer and closer, Leor asked, no, begged, "What do you really want? Please tell me." Without knowing what his Master truly wanted, he could not work properly. The situation was going to overload him.

The simple question earned him a yank on his long blonde ponytail, and a short yell of, "Dun'tch ya get cheeky wif me!"

I want Master's old self back! The kind and gentle one. Not this contradicting terror of a man. I wish he would just go away!

Then, it happened.

From seemingly nowhere, something small fell and struck the drunken Master squarely on the side of his broad skull. "Wha in vuh hell?!" Looking down, Leor could see that the object in question was a small pebble, perfectly smooth and white. He did not have much time to look at it when another pebble fell, also right in the middle of the Master's head. The man grabbed at his stringy black hair in frustration, growling. This new pebble was slightly larger; it was pitch black, like the night sky out the window.

The Master moved from the bed, towards the two couches in the middle of the room. However, as soon as he lay against the back of one couch, another pebble fell right on his head again, this one deep violet. "God frammit, wha's goin' on!"

Leor simply sat by and watched. He did not want to admit it, but he was actually rather enjoying this spectacle. He did not say a thing when the next pebble, indigo, dropped after the Master moved to the other couch. Nor the blue. Nor the green. Nor the yellow. Nor the orange. With each pebble, the size increased, and the color moved one more step up the spectrum. As the pebbles fell, Leor found himself poking at the nine stars tattooed on his right arm, one poke for each pebble that fell.

After the ninth pebble, crimson red, something did not feel quite right. As if there was something coming…

Something bigger…

Leor's prediction turned out to be right, as a veritable hailstorm of multi-colored stones began barraging down on his Master, slowly burying him. The man shouted, unable to escape the gravel pouring down on him. Only now did Leor hesitate in his decision to sit and watch.

No. He's still the same Master, just under the influence of alcohol. He doesn't deserve death!

"Stop!" Leor cried, as if that would have made a difference. However, surprisingly, it did. As if obeying his command, the rain of rock gradually came to a stop.

No. Too late.

It did not matter that the pebbles had stopped falling. The man Leor Avari had called Master lay dead, crushed under a pile of rainbow rubble.