A/N: So I wrote this on the bus today. It's got a very depressing, poetic feel, and it's short, but I like it. *shrug* I know I'm pretty much on hiatus right now, but I'll still be posting one-shots and two-shots. I'm finishing the last half of a fluffier fic, and the stories for Next Gen are coming along nicely! I'm a little low on inspiration, but I'm on break anyway, so it's okay.
Also, school sucks.
An Scread
[-*-]
He could feel the scream building in the back of his throat, through every universe, through every version of himself. He knew they existed, could sense them, could feel them like a second skin. He knew every pacifist timeline. And he knew every genocide.
He knew every death of his brother.
Their agony, their helplessness and hopelessness, their fear and suffering was shared between them, across the multiverse. Their voices carried to each other late in the night, when the nightmares foretold the past and the void came out to play. They were connected in every sense of the word.
Every Sans was connected, was known, was felt and heard.
A blessing and a curse.
They were trapped together, as days, weeks, months repeated for decades. As lines were repeated a million, a billion, a trillion times, across all planes of existence. They played their parts together, depending on each other just to make it through the next day, hour, minute, second.
From one point in time, the universe seemed to have expanded and branched off in a million directions. New Sanses were born every day, joined into their eternal circle of survival. Personalities merged, mixed, varied, twisted. Every Sans was one, was part of one body.
And yet they were all separated, pulled apart by time, space, and forces beyond their control.
Some met.
Joy, anxiety, rage, depression. These greeted them as they greeted each other, finally seeing the face they felt in their bones.
To see the differences. To hear the voices out loud. To feel soft touches or rough attacks. To taste the air that mixed between them, having always existed and yet never been experienced.
It was an experience unlike any other.
But that scream was always building in the back of their throats, for good or for bad. Many of them reached the surface, felt the sunlight and the fresh air and the grass between their toes. The scream burned then, fierce and free and delighted.
But so many of them suffered.
Yanked in and out of the past, living the same moment for months, repeating the same words and memories and lives in a never-ending cycle-!
Seeing him die behind their sockets with every breath.
Some of them persevered, to the point of insanity. Some of them plastered a smile on their face and waited for the day they might be free. Some of them did what they could, helping others and trying to make their time mean something. Some of them fought for what they wanted, pushing for freedom and maybe even happiness. Some of them played their part, did their bit and judged when necessary. Some simply struggled just to stay themselves, stay honest and true.
Some gave in.
Some, and there were many, gave up and let the darkness overwhelm their life. They drifted. They let the timelines use them and abuse them, over and over. They faded away.
But even in the moments where the world was grey. Where everything was fraying around the edges. When all was left cold, and empty, and bleak. Even in those moments, a scream was always building, waiting to be released.
A/N: QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: How many of you are in some kind of club or outside activity? I'm President of Anime Club, and I love all of my little club members very much! I've been in the club for three years now, and it's always one of my favorite times of the day! (Besides the rush of anxiety from trying to get our school's crappy tech to work!)