Gargoyles belongs to Disney/Buena Vista, and are used here without permission. Sorry. All new characters belong to me, and may be used anywhere you so desire.
All feedback is greatly appreciated, whether good or bad. Theme song for this short story is 'God in His Culture' by Anika Moa.
'No Rhyme, No Reason'
The Streets are all Vacant
by Quantara
quantara@nzoomail.com
You stand at the opposite side of the road from where I am, I see the sadness on your face and I'm brought to wonder why I was taken from this world. Why they took me. Why they thought I was expendable in their battle to keep the Gargoyles under their control. Pain washes over me, though not like the pain I once knew, this time a greater pain as I watch your face contort in suffering as the images of my brutal murder flash before your eyes. At each point of pain you feel, so my heart breaks that little bit more. I wish I were there with you so I could stop this cruel and relentless world from dragging you down to its living hell.
Tears flood your eyes and I am pained that I cannot wipe them from your cheek as all I am now is a life force without any form. It is everything their hunger for power has driven me to become. Those who wanted me out of the picture.
My spirit is fading more with every bit of heartbreak that comes over you. A flash of lightning fills the heavens above and I look toward the sky. 'Please, not now,' I beg in silence, and I turn back to you. You're still standing there, arms wrapped around you and I know the longer I stay the harder it becomes.
Not just for you, but also for me.
Every part of me wishes I didn't have to leave, I keep thinking that I'm not gone. That I'll wake up and this will all be a nightmare fading to the back of my mind as I continue about my day.
But it's not a dream.
It's real, like you are. Like I once was.
Suddenly, I'm standing at the front of the elevator at the construction site we'd gone to earlier this afternoon, our last case we would ever work together. I see you. I see my hand gently squeezing yours as I see the fear that has come over you. You hate heights, but you seem to find enough courage in yourself to look up, and give me a thankful smile in return. Suddenly, the elevator has stopped and the old man with us in the elevator opens the gate and steps out. He doesn't wait for us as we follow him over to where the man we're here to question is working.
My stomach churns, as I know what's to come next. We step around the concrete wall, and are instantly faced with a gruesome murder. The old man is shaking and you slip your arm around him, leading him away from the scene. I watch myself as I stay behind to make the appropriate calls. It's all too clear, I remember every word of my call to 9-1-1.
Soon I'm standing behind you, I can't bear to look at the grim sight any longer, and the old man cries to you how the young man we just found pinned against the wall is his grandson, that he didn't know why anyone would want to kill him. 'It's hard,' you tell him, 'but we'll find the guy that did this to your grandson,' you promise. And I know that tone of voice, I know you meant every word you told him.
Everything seems to twist around me again, this time we're both leaning up against the wall, you tell me how the old man is down at the precinct with the homicide counselor. My heart aches as I see the pain in your face, a grave knowing where I wish you'd told me about the fear you held inside, the fear that there's worse to come. A foreshadowing.
Captain Chavez is here now, she's telling us to go on home, and we head back to the elevator. You step against the back as I close the gate, then hit the ground button. Your arms are wrapped around you, and I knew this was affecting you pretty badly, so I instinctively put my arm around your shoulder. I remember the fear I held in my mind, the fear that you'd push me away, that you wanted to be left alone, but you step right up to me and wrap your arms around my waist and I hug you as you begin to sob. 'Hey, it's going to be okay...' I hear myself try to assure you, but it only makes you cry harder.
I begun gently rubbing your back, and soon we were at ground level, the gate is opened from the other side and we both see Margo Tatopoulos standing there, one of the senior commanding officers of our precinct. She glares at us, and I watch as we walk away from her, back over the gangway, the way we'd come earlier. But I stay, a grave feeling flooding over me and I watch as she removes her cell phone from her inside jacket pocket. 'Yeah, it's Margo...it's time...' she says into the phone, I don't know what it is she's talking about, or who she's talking to, but from the gleam in her eyes I know it's something bad.
That final day fades from my mind and I find myself back on the road, looking up from the blood stained pavement. My blood. The words flash in my mind like a terror and my gaze falls upon you, you're staring directly at me, only I know you can't see me.
As the world spins all over again, I realize we're back to the moment when it all happened. When my world stopped co-existing with yours.
Sadness floods over me again, like a continuous stab of guilt, and I'm watching as we leave the restaurant, no sooner than we'd arrived. You see it too, a memory being played back, and I remember now, how you told me you weren't feeling very well, how you'd been feeling nauseous since the elevator ride earlier tonight.
We hadn't even walked a few meters away from the restaurant when we saw a man crouched over on the middle of the road, holding his stomach as he let out groan after groan in pain. The exchange of words between us was nothing more than a 'Be careful' from you as I begun walking over to him. I didn't realize it in that moment, but you knew in your heart that something wasn't right. I hear the silent prayer you pray in your mind. Had I heard, as I used to be, I would never have gone over.
I'm closer now; I'm standing behind the man, watching myself approach him. He sneers at me to back off if I want to live to see another day. I freeze in my steps, not at his words, but at the gun he's holding and pointing up at my chest, I know you can't see the weapon, but the words in your mind fill mine and I know in that split moment you knew something wasn't right. Even before now.
Trying to be calm about the situation, I hear myself tell him I'm a cop, that we're both cops and he doesn't want to be doing this. But it's all too late when a loud clatter fills the air, followed by the god-awful metallic smell and taste.
It's blood.
It's my blood.
I watch as I stare at the man where I stood, I can't find it in myself to believe he shot me, and in an instant moment I feel your hand on my arm, you're telling me everything's going to be okay. 'I don't feel anything, I'm okay,' I tell you, my voice unbelievably calm, but the blood is in my throat. I know I've been shot. Still there's no pain and I slowly turn to look at your beautiful face. It's the last time with my own eyes and in my own body that I'll ever be this close to you again, looking into your warm and soulful chocolate brown eyes.
'I love you,' I whisper to you, the final three words I'd ever utter as I suddenly begin falling backward. But the feeling never ceases, I'm filled with a constant feeling like I'm falling. I don't even feel the stop as I hit the pavement. Instead, I find myself standing here, looking down at my lifeless body with you cradling my head in your lap, screaming at me to not leave you. Screaming at me with every part of your heart to open my eyes.
But the words fall on dead ears.
My dead ears.
Another loud bang, and the world twists around me again, the man who killed me has taken his own life and is standing at my side now. He gives me a sorrowful look and says he never meant to kill me, he didn't even know how he got the gun or why he pulled the trigger. His eyes give way to the fear he's feeling and I nod, because in that moment I know his every darkest and deepest memory. He was brainwashed by the Illuminati. They're the ones that ordered my death. He doesn't know why though, he was never told. He gives me another sad look as he starts to fade away, and I feel that great pain all over again, and I'm left to turn back to where you were, holding me in your arms.
Only you're not here now, and neither am I.
I'm surrounded by complete blackness, I think for a moment that I'm here alone, but I hear your soft cries, the way your voice is shaking as you whisper my name.
The darkness changes and we're at the beach in the dead of night.
I glance around me, trying to remember this place from any number of childhood memories, but nothing. You're here too, standing ahead of me with your arms wrapped around yourself as you stand with your feet almost completely buried in the surprisingly warm sand beneath us. You're dressed in your favorite red evening dress, and I slowly take a step toward you. Though not as I am, but in the form of what I once was. I slip my arms around your waist as I step up behind you, wanting to comfort you in this time when you need me the most.
Even above the rushing sound of the ocean as it ebbs to and throw, I can hear your crying voice whisper my name again. You run your hand along my arm, before reaching up and gently placing your hand at the back of my head, bringing my face forward so our cheeks are pressed together. Both our eyes close in union, and the tears flow freely down your face.
'I miss you...' you whisper, holding your left hand over mine, squeezing it tightly, as if wanting to hold on to me forever, not wanting me to ever go.
But that's when I see myself disappear from behind you, and you're left standing there alone.
Arms wound around you.
Broken.
The world that once felt like home starts to crumble around you and I glance up at the sky once more. It's time now. I have to leave you. I wish I could stay, but I can't. Your soft crying fills my ears again and I lower my gaze from the sky and look over at you, you seem so far away now, but I have to say goodbye. Say it in the right way.
I start walking toward you, a continuous journey that seems to take forever, but when I finally reach you I place my hand on your shoulder and you turn to me. Tears flood your eyes again and I gently brush them from your cheek as the first one starts to roll from your left eye.
'I'm sorry, I never meant to make you cry...' I whisper, but you shake your head, your hand softly touching mine and you smile so warmly.
'I love you, Matt...' you cry.
And so quickly it fades.
Not a thought.
Nothing but complete darkness.
