A/N: Wow. Here's an odd, kind of trippy prologue to my new multichapter fic. If you're confused, everything will be explained later. (And according to the poll results, the majority wanted to see the OC's I was planning on putting in, so those guys will be making an appearance. As a compensation for the naysayers, though, they will play quite a minor role – assuming this plot goes according to plan.)

I have high expectations for myself for this fic, so updates will becoming slowly. I'm putting off LooH for a while to work on this. It should get better as it goes along, because this is kind of a rocky start. But yeah, here you go. (Sorry for any mistakes, I was impatient with this part.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my fic. CC owns all characters, settings, and quotes from the book.

"You can rant all you want about honor and honesty and how mundanes don't have any of either, but if you were honest, you'd admit this tantrum is just because you're in love with him. It doesn't have anything to do with - "

Alec moved, blindingly fast. A sharp crack resounded through her head. He had shoved her against the wall so hard that the back of her skull had struck the wood paneling. His face was inches from hers, eyes huge and black. "Don't you ever," he whispered, mouth a blanched line, "ever, say anything like that to him or I'll kill you. I swear on the Angel, I'll kill you."

-City of Bones, page 300

Prologue

Alec Lightwood, in his lifetime, would come to regret very many things he had said. Everyone would, but none more than Alec.

Hurtful lies, painful truths. Angry accusations, apologetic confessions. Declarations of love, fierce verbal slaps of intense hate.

And then there were the oaths, with no opposite on the other side of them. They simply were; there was no alternative. No promises broken. All of them were kept by some law that couldn't be excused, a rule that bound him by the throat, that tied strings around his arms and turned him into a simple puppet.

Alec doesn't know why, but as he sleeps that particular night, one specific memory is dancing behind his eyelids, racing out of the darkness of mind. One single oath he'd sworn, one he shouldn't have to worry about, because Clary knew what was good for her.

Still, in his sleep, the boy can't help but shiver.

Don't you ever, ever, say anything like that to him or I'll kill you. I swear on the Angel, I'll kill you.

The distant recollection. Regret washing through him like a tidal wave, dousing his anger.

…don't you evereverever…

Behind his eyelids, blurred words begin to swirl in a random pattern, only a few coming into focus and only for a few seconds.

…say anything like…

Able to feel the memory whispering on his fingertips. The feeling of anxiety a dark shadow in the pit of his stomach, like a demon he couldn't manage to slay.

…kill you…

Now, the feeling coming back, stronger and more sickening than ever. Immeasurable anguish twisting in his chest as pain, fury, desire, and a sense of purpose lance through his limbs.

…on the Angel…

Those same limbs writhing in discomfort, fingers trying to jerk away from the memory to grab onto something, anything, real and current. The same mouth that uttered those unforgivable words gaping open in soundless torture as something begins to build inside his body, inside his mind. Eyes rolling back behind closed lids.

I SWEAR ON THE ANGEL, I'LL KILL YOU.

This time, Alec finds the voice to scream as the words jump out at him, and he wakes, eyes flying open and rolling helplessly, an unwelcome voice whispering into his mind's ear.

killherkillherkillherkillher.