Hello you wonderful Earth creatures! I thank you for clicking on this!
So. Now that you're here, you want to read something, yes?
Well, good.
What you are about to read is something that I've written after reading a prompt. This prompt, and many others, make up what's called "the 200 Themes Challenge". It is a list of 200 words and short phrases that range from "Echoes" to "Magic" to "Failure" to "1 plus 4 equals 6". I decided to take this Challenge on almost a year ago, and since then, I've written merely thirteen of these to date. So, for the last… long time, I've been falling behind. But I have an excuse ((dodges bricks)). I decided to do this Challenge entirely in the Invader ZiM universe, so my lack of writing these has come from my lack of attention to the series.
I'll be posting more than one of these a day (if they're written, so it's a big HOPEFULLY…) because of the sheer amount of these, so expect frequent updates. These will all range in a wide variety of genres, and the main characters will almost always be Zim, GIR, and Dib, but depending on the prompt, all, some, or none of them will be in it. Some prompts require you to think about who they might be, so that's something, too.
But, anyway, here's the first of two and half that were written a while back. All of the others were recently written and finished. The order will be completely random, because if I were to do this in order, they would never get finished or posted.
I apologize for the extremely long note, but it's a onetime thing. Now; I hope you enjoy this collection of drabbles!
Please Note: If at any time you read a story you want to be expanded, just drop me a line, and I'll see what I can do!
Disclaimer: Invader ZiM belongs to Jhonen Vasquez.
197. Help
It was dark and he was fading fast. But what did it matter? Everything he knew was a lie, and everything he ever hoped for was too far out of reach. They'd told him this would happen as they set the self destruct mechanism into motion. They said that if he ran again this would happen. But now that he only had minutes left, he started to wonder if it was all worth it. If running away the first time was the best idea. A small part of him agreed and he clung to it with all his might. Alas, a larger and more dominant part of him screamed about how stupid he was and how ridiculous it was to hold onto the idea. So, as he ran and the fire exploded around him, he had to very slightly pause and ask himself if it was worth it; if he was truly right to run, or even to think his impossible but comforting ideas. He'd thought for so long that he was just and correct in his thinking that he had instantly believed it himself. Self preservation, he called it. To protect himself from the truth he didn't have the courage to face. But now, as he lay there, expelling his last breaths, he managed to squeeze out one last word, one last cry, one last plea to an empty and quiet world; he closed his eyes and said… "Help…" No one was around to hear. No one was around to care.
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