OC: Well! Ock Angst! I wrote this during study hall and a little bit after school. Lot more depression then my big fic. Very, very angsty. Ock/Tentacles/Rosie © Marvel. Oh yes, since is a complete pile of crap, it keeps unbolding and unitalizing some tentacle-speak. So if it's confusion, tell me, but I don't think it's that bad.
Replay
KoD
Is he cowed?
He is.
We are sure?
We are always sure.
Sweat drenched the face of Otto Octavius as his eyes shot open. He hated it. He couldn't stand it, hated everything. He dreamed.
Had to stop dreaming.
He knew it was their work, their fault that he dreamed so horribly. And each time fell to exhaustion, he vowed to remember it was not real, it was them who did it to him. Each time he woke up in those satin sheets, he knew nothing of them, only of the dream that he'd seen a thousand times over, each time more and more powerful. It was their work. They had such power over him. Such power that he could almost marvel at it.
He was their slave.
Good morning, Father!
Did you dream tonight?
Did you sleep well?
We hope so. Many things are waiting for us today.
His stomach twisted, bile rising to his throat. Many things he did not want to do. Many horrible things awaited him. Death, thievery, and destruction were all he saw in the horizon as he looked up, the tentacles helping him stand to see the morning sun rising over the Hudson River.
I will not help you today.
Why not, Father?Do you wish the alternative?
We would not want to do such.
Please, do not make us hurt you.
He bit his lip, glaring into the sun. Today would be the day he would outlast the pain. Today would be the day he would finally defeat them. He would win today.
I will not help you today.
We beg of you, Father.We wish not to hurt you.
Please, Father, do not make us hurt you.
We offer you a gracious choice. Accept it.
I will NOT help you today.
Then you leave us no choice, Father.Accept our apologies.
You will help us.
We will make you help us.
He closed his eyes, bracing himself. He knew what was coming. They would trick him, as they always did. A tentacle screeched in his ear. He closed his eyes....
He was standing there, upon the platform. He was always, always standing there. He saw the reactor, his pride and joy. His actuators, his pride and joy. His wife, beyond these mortal things. She was his soul mate, his other half. She was everything he could wish to be, everything he wanted, everything he needed.
Then it blurs.........and there is glass.
Glass, falling from the sky. It rains edges, rains keen edges and sharp blades. They rain upon him.
He is protected. Protected by a shield that he cannot see, a shield that fuzzy vision cannot see. It is black and yellow, sharp in some places. Hooked talons top the ends of the shield. He cannot see it; it is hidden to him. Something hides it from him.
She is not. It rains upon her – slicing her, destroying her form. Her beautiful features fall in pieces upon the ground, painted in a hideous crimson. Neither of them ever liked crimson. He cannot see it anymore, either. The crimson covers it; the shield covers it.
"Rosie......?" He ventures softly, his voice echoing strangely. He takes a step – the shield moves with him.
You destroyed me. He knows that voice....is it Rosie's? It must be. It must be her, after all, it is coming from her. No one could be his Rosie. She stands. Stands whole now. She is beautiful again, his other half, his soulmate.
"I would never......"
You destroyed me. You destroyed everything I loved! Rosie's form yells now. She stalks toward him – angrily, furiously.
"Rosie......" He looks at her, but the shield blurs her features.
You are a horrible monster! A wretch, a conniving cheater, a slimy, foul waste!
He looks at her more desperately now. Her features sharpen now, and they are twisted in fury. His eyes tear as Rosie tears these holes in his soul.
You miserable, miserable liar! You lied to me! You lied to them!
"I would...never......" He blinks. How could she......she would never......
You will never do anything! Never! You are weak, weaker then the smallest insect!
"Rosie...please...listen to yourself......"
Get out of my sight! Get away from me!
He takes a step closer to her. She growls ferally, swiping out with a hand. Rosie was never a fan of sharp nails, but blood trickles down his forehead where she strikes.
It drips. Drips down into his eyes, blinding him even more. More pain strikes him – Rosie's claws dig deep into his flesh.
He can't see. He can't feel anymore – the pain is too much.
He failed his Rosie.........failed in his dreams......and now, he will die for it. Die in a painful, horrible manner.
He is a failure.
Father.......
"Ugh..." He blinks – his vision is clear. His Rosie is there next to him, smiling. Her features are normal, her smile irresistible.
"My Otto..." She says, squatting down to him. Her mouth does not move as he hears a voice. It isn't hers, but sounds like it....he is so confused. So incredibly confused.
Your Rosie awaits you.Go to her.
Your children await you.
Go to them.
"Rosie?" He smiles, weakly.
Know that we are your masters.
Her features begin to bleed and shape......
Know that we control your fate.
And her nails begin to twist, twist into hideous talons.
You will listen to us.
She snarls at him now, jumping back.
Otherwise....
"Rosie!" He jumps up, reaching out for her. Her claw lashes out.
We will crush you.
It strikes his throat. He staggers back, holding his throat, trying to stop the fatal bleeding.
And we will kill you.
He falls. And Rosie stands over him, pulling back at hand.
In the most painful.....
She slashes him across the face.
...terrible...
and again.
...horrific...
and again.
.....way imaginable.
She gouges out his eyes. The scream is cut short by the pool of blood that pours from his throat.
Is that clear, Father?
"stop..this..." He gurgles, blood spilling down his front.
We thought so.
And he closes the lids over the bloody mess that were taken out by the one he loved, the one who was half of him.
And he dies.
Now rise.
And he opens his eyes. His hand flies towards his eyes, feeling them intact. He blinks - the world is in focus again, the shield gone, Rosie is gone, the blood is gone. He is back in the warehouse.
That pain is still there - his eyes still throb. He can still remember the cuts, his throat, his Rosie....
That sort of pain....gets him every time. It is their power over him, their whip to his slavery. He has done it, like he has done it every time. He has given in to them. He promised himself not too, but here is he again, his mind forming the tentacle's glowing heart-light into a hideously smug smirk.
We will go, Father.Come with us.
We beg of you.
Remember your promise.
You tricked me....
And you promised us.We must go.
And you must come with us.
Many things are waiting for us today.
Yes....
He stands. Slowly, deliberately, he raises his head to look at the horizon.
Another day. Another day of thievery, death and destruction. Another day of living under the iron grip of his own creations, that twist and toy with his memories. They know his weak spots, and every day...he cannot win.
He will win tomorrow. He will fight the pain tomorrow. He knows this - and swears it.