Author's notes and warnings: I was recently cleaning up my laptop when I stumbled across this story tucked away amongst my old files. It was written 8 or 9 years ago and at the time, was one of the most complex things I had ever written (not to mention the longest). How times have changed.
I must admit that it's been a long time since last visited the STH fandom, and taking a trip down memory lane it seems that a lot has changed since I've moved on. If I remember correctly, this story takes place somewhere after the Archie Sonic comic 130, although by that point I had already started to drift from the fandom and wasn't following the story arcs so closely. As such, there may be a few inconsistencies with the continuity.
I should also point out that I haven't edited this story since it was first written, so please excuse any poor grammar or formatting – I've learnt (and improved) and awful lot since then. I have no intention to fix it as I've moved on to other stories in other fandoms (posted on this site, but not under this alias), but still, I thought I'd give it an airing.
On to the warning – this story deals with the themes of depression and attempted suicide, thus it may be upsetting for some readers. Please take this into account as you proceed, as the last thing I want is to cause anyone any undue distress.
Darkness
Prologue
War is an instigation of greed. For the perpetrator, it allows for a manifestation of great desire: for power and total control. It enables the release of anger and frustration, and through this release, wreaks horrific destruction. For those whom war is thrust upon, however, it epitomizes the opposite, fear and a loss of total control. Casualties are inevitable; but life is not all that is taken. War is a great consumer; it consumes resources, energy, hope and spirit. War consumes the soul; penetrating deep into the hearts of those enveloped by it. The greatest casualty is this loss; even for those who do not take part in the fighting, it worms itself deep within; entwining around the soul, twisting and mutilating.
For those with no choice, the heroes rising from the ashes, fighting to save the very people and places they live for, the impact of war can be crushing. The complete decimation of the soul is a price they are subconsciously willing to pay in order to gain the freedom they so desperately desire. To those whom look up in awe at these heroes, they are gods, immortal both in body and spirit. They stand as the last strands of hope in what often seems a hopeless situation. And the heroes, yearning for peace more than any other, are compelled to withhold this assumption, deriving from such visions, the strength to continue fighting.
But from time to time, the destruction of one's soul goes unchecked for too long. Feeding on the god-like status lavished upon them, the soul begins to crumble without recognition. It is when the uncontrollable nightmares begin; the incessant sub-conscious reminders of painful memories ravaging every waking moment that one begins to realize that the process has already begun. Unwilling to display this weakness, and too afraid to destroy what little hope others have, the hero slowly begins to self-destruct from the inside. The hero feels ashamed of their fear and weakness. And this shame creates further fear and anger, perpetuating the cycle of destruction.