disclaimer: i do not own tin man.
i rented this dvd from a redbox a couple of weekends ago and i loved it. here's what came of it, so enjoy!
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It had just been a normal spring day. The twin suns were shining gently through the window, warming the stirring earth outside and the man's face as he sat at the breakfast table, gazing out the window. He smiled up thankfully at his beautiful wife as she laid a plate in front of him, smiled at his son playing with his tin soldiers at the table again. Upon seeing his father's chastizing gaze, the boy smiled back sheepishly, gathered them up, and went to put them away. He chuckled and began to eat his meal as his wife sat down. Their son was soon back and in his chair, all but devouring his food. She chided him for eating like a ravenous wolf, he gave her a cheeky remark in the fashion that only children can give them. The man chuckled again.
"Mind your mother, Jeb," he said. Jeb shot his father a look that was torn between rebellion and compliance. The better half of the boy prevailed, and he went back to eating his breakfast with less gusto. He still finished before the adults, and tore out of his chair to play with his tin men before he could get scolded again. His mother frowned slightly after him, and opened her mouth to call him back, when the man laid his hand over hers.
"Leave him be. He's only young for so long." She looked doubtful still, so he said, "Don't worry. It's a phase all boys go through; he'll grow out of it eventually."
"It's a phase you never grew out of," she teased, but with a sad smile.
The truth of her words struck him, and he had to look down at the table, "He won't want to be like me," he said softly. She understood, and didn't say anything more. Instead, she lifted his chin up with her finger, kissed him on the forehead and began to clear the table. He remained in his seat, looking after her for a moment, then resuming his absent scrutiny of the outside world, lost in thought of his violent days now past.
His vicious musings were abruptly and thankfully interrupted by Jeb, who had come dashing into the kitchen again. He sprang into his father's lap, "Here, Daddy. I have a present for you."
"Really, now? What is it?" the man asked, squeezing his son. Jeb reached into his pocket and produced a small something: one of his beloved tin horses.
Taking it and holding it up for them both to examine in the sunlight, the man asked, "What's this for? You love these toys."
Jeb wasn't looking at the horse, however, but up at his father's face. Upon hearing his question, the boy nuzzled his father's neck with his forehead, "But I love you more, Daddy."
The hand holding the little horse closed upon it. For a moment the man could say nothing, astonished by the pure unconditional love he heard in his son's voice. He swallowed the lump in his throat and held him tightly, "I love you too, son. Thank you."
"Daddy, you're squishing me," Jeb's complaint was muffled by his father's chest. Blinking the tears out of his eyes, the man laughed and loosened his grip. He watched the boy scamper off yet again, and stood up. He crossed the room to the small chest where he kept all his worldly possessions, and gently laid the horse inside. Straightening up, he cocked his head, listening. That was funny, he just noticed that there had been no birdsong for about five minutes. In that unnatural quiet, he could have sworn he heard nearly silent footsteps, muffled voices...
Suddenly there was a bang, and the front door flew open. He flung himself in front of it, ready to defend his family and his home. To his horror, he found a gang of Longcoats; but it was no surprise, considering what he had recently given up.
The blond one closest to the door, the one who carried himself with the careless arrogance and wicked sort of glee that could only have come from a leader, leered at the man standing protectively in the doorway and spat his name, "Wyatt Cain."
Cain had no time to react; two of the Longcoats jumped on him and wrestled him to the floor. His wife screamed, and he heard two more Longcoats pound across the wooden kitchen towards her. He was filled with his old rage and tried to fight, but they were too quick for him and he was already on the ground. They forced him to stand and shoved him out of the house, where he landed face-first in the dirt. He rolled over and kicked the Longcoat nearest him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, and Cain jumped up, immediately unleashing a whirlwind of punches at the next Longcoat. He backed away, surprise and fear in his eyes, throwing up his arms to protect his face, but Cain was relentless. Out of the corner of his eye, Cain saw another Longcoat raise his arm. He ducked under it and the Longcoat, missing him, stumbled forward. Cain thrust his fist upward and punched him in the jaw with all of his strength. The Longcoat fell backward, unconscious.
Suddenly, another arm circled Cain's neck. His anger doubling, Cain elbowed the ribs of the Longcoat imprisoning him. Though he flinched at the bone-crushing blow, his grip did not loosen enough for Cain to escape. He thrashed, trying to get out of the Longcoat's choke-hold. A heavy blow to the back of the head stunned him, and he sagged slightly. His vision going black, he felt himself being dragged backwards by his arms again. A set of knuckles collided with his jaw, sending his head lolling to the left and splitting his lip.
Another of his wife's shrieks shattered the darkness nearly obscuring his vision. A Longcoat was dragging her, kicking and screaming, out of the house, followed by the blond Longcoat leader, who was walking as if taking a stroll in the park. The Longcoat holding his wife pushed her towards one of his comrades, and he grabbed her free arm. Cain watched as she struggled against her captors, and resumed the fight against his own, desperate to get to her. The blond Longcoat leader swaggered up to her, and turned back and sneered at Cain again. Then, he turned towards Cain's wife and slapped her across her face.
"NO!" Cain bellowed and fought harder against the arms holding him back, "Adora!" Another hit to the face silenced him, this one producing a gash on his cheek. He sagged again in the arms of the Longcoats as the blood ran down his face. Their leader sauntered up to Cain and smiled mirthlessly at the man below him. Drawing his arm back, he landed another punch in Cain's face. Cain roared in pain and defiance.
"No! No! He's just a boy, leave him alone! Leave my son be!" Adora half-sobbed. Cain looked up in alarm as a Longcoat half-carried Jeb by one arm out of the house. Cain tried again to wriggle out of the Longcoat's grasps, but again to no avail. The leader of the Longcoats back-handed the boy, sending him sprawling across the yard. The Longcoats laughed maliciously at the boy on the ground as he tried to stand. Stand he did, and he ran at the Longcoat leader, punching wherever his small fists could reach. The Longcoat's sneer died and turned to shock as he backed away from the suddenly ferocious boy.
Cain, though nearly overcome with pride at his son's bravery, knew this was his chance. He wrenched his right arm out of the astonished Longcoat's weakened grip and punched the back of the Longcoat's head directly in front of him and he sank to the ground. Unfortunately, his captor caught his arm again and Cain was forced to watch the Longcoat leader attack his son again as Adora cried, moaning "No!" over and over again.
"Zero!" A Longcoat behind Cain said, "The wagon is here."
"Really?" The leader paused, his foot on Jeb's back where he lay on the ground again. He grinned again, "Bring it in."
As Zero swaggered toward Cain, a Longcoat henchman roughly forced Jeb to stand. Cain's vision was then blocked from his family; Zero had leaned down so that his arrogant, sneering face was all Cain saw.
"By the time you wake," He whispered malevolently to Cain's ruined face, "Your family will be dead, you trapped and powerless to save them."
"You're wrong," Cain said thickly, but with all the venom he could manage.
Zero laughed quietly in his face, an entirely mirthless sound that sent shivers down Cain's back, "You won't be able to escape from the suit. You won't even be able to escape your own mind."
Cain sluggishly opened his mouth to retort, but the remark never left his bleeding lips. A particularly heavy object struck Cain in the back of the head, and he screamed Adora's name one last time as he was pitched headfirst into the darkness that had been waiting for him.
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Trapped. Unable to escape your own mind.
Now I know what he meant.
I can't move, the walls of this suit are much too confined. Yet my hair grows. Now it tickles my forehead, here it is at eye level, now brushing my hollow cheekbones. But still so close; sometimes I feel too big for these walls. At times it feels as if my lungs themselves are being constricted, so that I can hardly breathe. Those are the times I welcome most, those are the moments I think that maybe, finally, I will die.
But then they start again. The scenes of the breaking of my family. I can't tell if it's all in my head or from a T.D.E.S.P.H.T.L, but whatever the images are, they still hold the same raw, potent stew of emotions as they had the very first day.
They play forever and ever. I lose track of the rising and setting of the suns. Like I was counting anyway, like it matters. I start to believe him, that there is nothing I can do to save them.
As soon as I have that thought, the anger that had lied dormant within me suddenly smolders, then rages. I'll get the bastard. I will hunt him, like I have done so many times before. I will find my family alive and prove the son of a bitch wrong. I am so overcome with fury that I start to fight, beating the walls of my prison with the whole of my body, screaming at the top of my lungs for a release that doesn't come.
The scenes start again. I give in to despair and become still and silent and dead once more.
Animosity. Anguish. Outrage. Misery. Over and over. An endless cycle of the same emotions, until I lose all other identity, until I forget that there was ever anything more before this infinite cycle. Sometimes the monotonous feelings fill me, threatening to break me, and I start to thrash again, bruising myself all over. Once, I hit my head so hard that I was knocked out for a long time. Or perhaps it was no time at all; I know not what night and day is anymore. There is only red. The red of my emotion, of my blood as I watch it stain the dirt over and over again, of Zero's blood as it rains down onto my frenetic imaginings.
Then one day, something changed. A shape charges into the scene and it wavers and dissipates. The smoke of the illusion evaporates around a girl dressed in dark clothes, looking around with a bemused expression on her face and a branch in her hand. A man in a torn trenchcoat runs clumsily after her. They go to examine something directly across from me. I understand now what the images were caused by. I also become aware of a single word stamping itself across my mind:
Escape.
They turn around and see me. The girl approaches, the man following reluctantly. She looks at my cage with a horrified curiosity. She seems to hesitate, then knocks, and the echoes reverberate off of my skull. I pound back, and they jump. The girl's lips move, saying something to her friend, then immediately turns around and runs out of my line of vision. The man glances after her, saying something in return, then looks at me again and grimaces. I notice something on the top of his head... is that a zipper? The curiosity is dead within me.
Now the girl is back with a hammer in her hand. She looks at me, then at her companion, and back at me again with a steel in her stormy eyes. She starts to hammer on something on the outside of the suit, causing the awful echoes again. With a creak, the front of the suit swings open, and they shrink back in terror, holding each other. For a moment, I stay standing, but then the ground rushes up towards me and I find myself on all fours. I hear a human voice, the first real voice to break the silence and the shrieking of my crazy thoughts that went on for so long, but I don't acknowledge it. I'm shaking with the ocean of new emotions rushing through me, mingling with the old: relief, bloodlust, grief, gratitude. I never thought I would taste the sweet fresh air again, or that I would ever get out of that Godforsaken hellhole to get my revenge on the motherfucker who ripped my family apart. It seems as though all my wildest dreams are just now being realized, but for now I can do nothing. I kneel on the ground, panting with the force of the opportunities that are taking a shape I recognize.
"I'll kill him," I vehemently whisper, promising the objective earth.
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thank you for reading, please review!