why do i keep writing angst? sigh... more to come! is it just me or is IZ just made for angst?
The defective, the fallen, the sadistic, the warped, and the twisted.
Here they gather.
Kind of a midway point in death between upstairs and downstairs.
A suspended point in time.
A limbo, if you will.
Gathered here is Zim, killed by his own insanity, his own denial that no, he was not defective.
Red and Purple, finally killed by Lard Nar.
Dib, finally killing himself after a sob fight with everyone.
Gir, his warped personality caused by Zim's insanity, and he was killed by Dib. An abused, tourmented soul, a poor sweet soul, stained with the corruptness of his owner.
And Tak, twisted with hate and rage, bent on revenge, she killed herself while asleep. An accident, if you dared say it.
All the rejects, stuck here.
The thought amused Zim, tormented Red and Purple, depressed Dib, scared Gir and angered Tak.
Rejects in life, and in death.
Kind of a sadistic, twisted joke played by fate.
Zim's mouth would twist up in a sick smile and he would strut around, proud to be insane, stuck in his own class, not an angel nor a devil. Just an angel without his halo, and a devil without his horns.
Tak stayed up in her rage, bottled up, until she found herself groggily on the floor, wrists bloody and a tormented looking Gir huddled in a corner.
Dib moaned around, the classic ghost, whining about how much he hated death.
Red and Purple? A whole different story.
They belonged in a nice, padded room. They were literally, finally insane.
You see, when they died, it was funny; they died at the exact same time. Fate would've put Gaz with them, if she hadn't died two years earlier of a mysterious disease.
Funnily enough, she ended up in Heaven. Occasionally, she would peek down between the clouds and snicker, then return to the cloudy land, and straighten her tarnished halo.
When they died, they were all judged together. They were a sad looking bunch…
Zim looked unscathed, however, his wrists were dark, stained deep green with Irken blood.
Red and Purple had numerous wounds here and there.
Dib's neck was wringed with scratch marks from the coarse rope.
Gir looked undamaged, though when you reached out to him, he would have an emotional meltdown.
And Tak had a dark wound where her heart was.
The judging had been short, yet longer than most. Finally, they were decided that they weren't good. But they weren't wicked. They were just… them.
It wasn't fair.
But fate is twisted.
The defective, the fallen, the sadistic, the warped, and the twisted.
Here they gather.