10-3-05
It was over. He'd won. He'd killed him. In the final match, he'd overpowered his arch-nemesis and destroyed him. No more would that loathsome creature roam the planet, tormenting him.
It was a hollow victory.
Gir proved easy enough to eliminate. A rubber piggy kept him distracted until it was all over. Poor, innocent Gir. He was a good robot. Stupid, yes, but good nonetheless.
From then on it was a simple process of elimination, so to speak. A teacher here, a police officer there, all meaningless. Their sacrifice was necessary; the wretch used them as shields.
And to think he'd once been seen as honorable.
But in the end, he proved to be a disgusting coward. Begging for his life, caring nothing for the countless lives he'd destroyed. It was almost sickening to watch. Ending his life was a mercy.
No. It didn't happen like that. Of course it didn't. He never used them as shields. He never begged for his life. He protected them, and yet they died just the same. Who's the monster here?
The final showdown saw them facing off, head to head, intellect against intellect. One slip-up could cost either one their lives. Hours of fighting saw him exhausted, on the brink of collapse. Still he fought.
Then came the knife.
Such a primitive object. His blood was warm, almost burning to the touch. The fighter died with dignity, and then he fell. The water carried him off. Too bad, too. An autopsy would have been fascinating.
And now, in his labs, the survivor shuddered, his stomach long empty but yearning to purge more from his system. Now blood hit the basin every time his insides heaved.
Dammit, it was too soon! There were so many more battles to be fought! So many more stupid schemes! Meaningless competitions. Few and far between, even moments of grudging camaraderie. Now, thanks to an idiotic conflict, he was dead.
Someday, everything must die.
Zim crouched alone in his labs, acid tears clouding his vision. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much. Rather than the feeling of euphoria traditionally associated with decimating a rival, he ached as though he'd lost his best friend.
If only he realized before it was too late:
Dib was his only friend.
A/N: yep. Zim wins! but did he really want to? this thing has a moral somewhere, i know it. im just too lazy to find it now. heh. anyway, do enjoy, mes amis.
-Raven, your Friendly Neptunian Psycho