Chell's Exile Vilify, a portal fanfic

She sits in her worn office chair, pale legs tucked neatly to her chest pressing against her bare chest as she rests her arms atop her knees one hand on the mouse and the over holding a cigarette, tobacco mixed with the marijuanna she had pilfered from his near unlimited supply and takes out the metallic square that dangles on a chain around her neck, a gift from happier times, she flicks the lid and lets the flame slowly eat away at the paper the smell of burning and smoke infiltrates her senses before she flicks it shut with a small click and bows her head as the sad slow melody drifts from her sad little sound system and deep into her mind, once again.

Exile. It takes your mind...again.

Her green eyes stare dully at the clutter on her desk, a stray bottle of pills that she hijacked from the small chemist she managed to get employed by, two bottles of Jack Daniels say almost innocently on the open space one containing the precious liqour and the other halfway full of ash serving it's next purpose as an ashtray in the dim light that her lamp casts her eye catches the framed photograph that stands rebelliously out of place on a desk such as this, it's a photo of her and a man, her hair looks healthy and well cared for in the photo an even golden brown colour not the peroxide blonde mop that sat on her head now after a brief stint of madness with a bleach bottle and some scissors on one of her worse nights alone. Alone.The word rang so sudden, so final in her mind.

You got sucker's luck...

Have you given up?

Does it feel like a trial?

Does it trouble your mind the way, you trouble mine.

The man in the photo is at least a good five inches taller than her and she is easily encompassed by his long arms in the photo pressed snugly to his chest and she can't help but notice that she fits so well into him that they almost look like two pieces of the same puzzle..then with a tense frown she remembers that just like a puzzle piece there are spaces for other pieces to fit neatly too that had been evident when she'd walked into their tiny one bedroomed apartment to find him so delightfully entwined with the 'Whore-From-Next-Door'. After that it all became a blur of alcohol, blood, pain and loneliness. Oh god the loneliness it was consuming her. It already had if she was completely honest with herself.

Exile. It takes your mind...again.

She shivered as she put her feet to the floor and it rewarded her with a squeaking noise and a precarious wobble as she left her well worn perch, her fingers drifted across the glass a layer of dust coming with it and sticking stubbornly to her fingers, she frowned and rubbed them together feeling the texture of the dirt beneath her fingers staring at the man in the photo with something akin to muted anger and she calmly picked up the object. And hurled it through the air until it smacked one of the walls that boxed her inside her apartment the glass tinkling to the worn and barely coping floorboards that held her up on the fourth floor of her apartment block.

Oh, you meant so much...

Have you given up?

Does it feel like a trial?

Does it trouble your mind the way, you trouble mine.

Does it feel like a trial?

She gasped for breathe as the rage consumed her and she promptly whirled around and swiped everything off of her desk and onto the floor including that damned photograph of him and her. 'Say it, say his name...SAY IT!'She choked and her throat burned from the amount of effort that it took but she managed it "Wh..eat..ley…Whe-atly." She narrowed her eyes tears beginning to cload her vision and she just screamed.

"WHEATLEY!"

Now, you're thinkin' too fast you're like, marbles on glass.

Vilify. Don't even try.

she fell to her knees andafter what felt like an eternity began picking up the pieces of glass littering her floor and carelessly brushing it into a haphazard pile with her hand, what difference did a few scratches make? One had even bounced under the dark gap between the floor and the dresser and she leaned further to reach them until her hanc wrapped around especially large and jagged piece and she pursed her lips at the feeling of the sharp glass poking at her clasped hand as she drew it back and stared at it before sighing and turning on her heel and trudging to her bathroom, sparing only a glance to the door that held the bedroom, no light underneath indicated it was empty but it wasn't, no in there at the back of her closet were two dead bodies. 'Forever delightfully entwined.' she thought to herself a fleeting smirk coming to her lips at the sick irony of her joke, rigamortis surely would have set in by now. By the time she got to the bathroom she was crying again.

You got sucker's luck...

Have you given up?

Does it feel like a trial?

Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine.

Does it feel like a trial?

Did you fall far for the same emptinesses again?

She padded to the sink, glass shard still in hand as she rested her forearms against the sink, a few stains of red still spattered the sink from where she had washed the cutthroat razor that had been the murder weapon. With a final glance at herself she looked away to fling the shard into the bin and duly noticed that it had cut into her skin enough for her to bleed and as she stared at the blood a familiar sense of delightful emptiness filled her mind and the guilt was gone. She smiled and swayed to the distant tune that the song still carried to her from the radio before turning once again to the medicine cabinet with the mirror on top and gently prized it open making sure it wouldn't be tempermental and unhinge itself as it was so prone to doing nowadays. Her hand moved without permission and wrapped around the handle that protected the shiny blade inside itself she stroked the handle gently almost lovingly before flicking it open and watching it glisten in the awful hollow light that the cheap bulb provided her.

Vilify. Don't even try.

And with a practiced ease she brandished it seamlessly at her neck and with a fluid motion sliced open her neck. She gurgled in a horrible macabre variation of a laugh that made blood pool around her even faster as she realized that this was exactly what she'd imagined it to feel like as she died, there were no turrets murmering there sweet goodbyes, no GlaDos to bid her an overly sarcastic farewell and no shining blue optic turned eye to gaze into as her life fluid dripped away and her heart finally stopped beating.

'Well would you look at that, I am a monster.'

Vilify.