ÆdS, a sonic the hedgehog fanfic

Click.

Light. Shining down on me in three sections. Another click. A whirring sound accompanied by a mechanic hum. The sections start to slowly move around in circles, gaining speed. The light on my face replaced by shadows. The shadows replaced by light. Faster and faster. Almost like a strobe light.

A fan. The only light in the room shines through a circle, obstructed by a fan. The fan blades cutting through the light. Spinning faster and faster. The propelled air blows on my face, but it isn't cool. Hot air sitting stagnant suddenly blowing down on me directly. It suddenly becomes apparent that movement isn't possible.

Trying to suck in air, my lungs seem to have expanded completely. Can't exhale. Discomfort sets in. Where am I? Confusion. Fear. Emotion. All coming back to me. All hitting me like a ton of bricks. My eyes widen. Lids stretching out, the moisture evaporates entirely, due to the hot wind blowing in my face. My eyes are stuck open, and it's painful to even attempt closing them.

Play.

Race across the pitted and potholed street to the side of the dilapidated old building. Pressing my body tightly against the brick wall, and sliding down into a crouching position. Tails follows suit, landing next to me, on my right. Ejecting the magazine from my rifle and retrieve the replacement.

His hands are shaking. Hasn't even fired his rifle yet. First mission.

"Sonic?"

What?

"In case I don't make it, I need to-"

None of that. This ain't a fucking movie. Get your shit together.

Suddenly a gun is fired nearby and it impacts somewhere close by I can hear Tails screaming and bits of brick are hitting me in the face as I blindly raise the rifle and fire off in every open direction before hitting the deck and reloading.

Skip.

Look up. There it is. The source of my companionship. Everything has been lost by this point. Everyone. Except for this and myself. But could it be that it is an extension of myself? Could it be that I'm all alone? My mind steers away from this. I couldn't be all alone. It talks to me.

It tells me secrets.

"Who are you?"

A good question. You are referring to my name?

"No"

Strange. Are you then referring to my title?

"I asked not for a name or a title"

Than what do you ask?

"Who are you?"

They call me Sonic, though it's not my true name. My name's Maurice.

"My question didn't involve labels"

I'm afraid I don't understand.

"Or are you afraid of understanding?"

Why these riddles? Why these games?

"Why do you think?"

You keep coming back to me.

"That's because that's what this is about."

What?

"You. You remain the subject of interest."

To whom?

"Everything"

Not just everyone, but everything?

"Yes"

I don't understand.

"Think. You don't have much time."

I can't. My head hurts.

"Than that's your decision."

What does that mean?

"It means you're in control here. You call the shots. If you want to give up, that is your decision."

Rewind.

Stumble and fall flat on my face in the mess of sticks, rocks and dead leaves. Cough. Breathing. Hard. Force myself back up to my feet, and ride them off into the darkening forest. Can't even hear them anymore, but chances aren't necessary. None need to be taken.

My footsteps thudding against the soft soil beneath me, the sound of my own breath filling my ears. My heart rate. Faster than it has ever been. The veins throughout my body pulsating wildly. It feels like I'm on fire. The cold air rapes my lungs, violating, a sort of a burning sensation. Exhaustion is overwhelming. My body feels like it's shutting down. Turning off. Collapsing.

And this is when I do.

Face-plant. Inhale. Dirt. Cough. Gag. Close my eyes. It's time to turn off.

Stop.

Time has stopped entirely. Come to think of it, everything has. I have attained perfection; wholeness. For one sweet instant that stretches on for an eternity everything feels right. Peace. I could float here forever. Don't even know where here is, but it isn't necessary to find out. There isn't any desire to leave. There isn't any desire to understand. Just a constant state of content. Until….

Until the light goes away. Until the warmth dies out.

All that's left is the dark. All that's left is the cold.

I feel empty.

Unsatisfied. Incomplete.

I feel overwhelmed by resentment and anguish.

Rewind.

Play.

"Are they worth it?"

"What?"

"Them. All of them."

"Worth what?"

"Saving. Are they worth fighting for?"

"I think so."

"Why? What have they done to deserve it?"

"What have they done not to?"

"I don't see your logic."

"Well, they haven't done anything wrong. They're helpless. Inadequate. They need something to stand up for them, if they are unable to do it for themselves."

"Who appointed you?"

"I guess I did. When no one else was."

"They are ungrateful"

"They are."

"Than why protect them?"

"I don't care whether they appreciate it or not."

"What, then? What do you care about? Why persist?"

"If I didn't help them, than they would be helpless. We would all die."

"Not you. Not us."

"You think?"

"I know."

"At any rate, we would lose in the bigger picture. If we lose, he wins. We can't afford to let him win, now can we?"

"So, it's a game?"

"Not necessarily. It's a matter of honor. How would it look if we lost our own planet to the invader? The alien?"

"It's a game. You're playing a game with the alien. Robotnik."

"If that's how you want to look at it."

"It's not how I want to look at it. It's how you're explaining it to me."

"I don't think so."

"Who are you trying to convince?"

"I'm not trying to convince anyone. Of anything."

He stares at me critically. Always calculating things. Always thinking over every angle of every situation, no matter how insignificant.

Makes me wonder what it's all adding up to.

Pause.

two mountains
standing side by
side
underneath an
azure sky.

they dismantle and crumble into one another, creating a large mound of rocks.

Was this any part of it? No, I don't think so.

Forget about this moment. It never happened.

Play.

She's been crying, I know it when I see it.
She averts her gaze.
It's hard to see her through the grain. The static.
This looks like it's being viewed through a twelve year old cassette.
Sound quality is shit, too.

Things keep breaking up. Fading in and out of static. White noise.

I'm saying something, but I can't make it out. She responds. Things fade out and back in. I'm asking a question, and she's answering it. Emotion. Denial. Lies.

I wish I could explain it, but I don't understand it. It can't be said, who or what I am. All I know is that very soon, this shit is over. All of it.

And everything fades out again.

skip.

"What have you done?"

"This is what sets you apart, Sonic"

His robots are holding me down, forcing me into place. I can't move. The cold grip of the steel 'bots squeezing my wrists until it feels like the circulation has cut off entirely. The prickling sensation of pins and needles forming throughout the insides of my sweaty gloved hand.

"Stop this" I tell him. "Please stop this."

He smiles wildly down upon me.

I'm being held down in front of this table, with my arms stretched out as far in front of me against the flat surface as they will go. To the point where the skin is taut and it hurts.

He takes a seat across from me, and scoots his chair as close to the table as it will go.

"You probably think I'm referring to your speed, but that isn't exactly the case. There are a few things that can go as fast as you can, Sonic. Plenty of machines and animals that could almost, if not match your speed."

Jerk my hands in an effort to pry them lose, but it's no use. They slam my wrists and head down on the table in effort to better restrain me. That sick fucker starts to laugh his ass off.

That son of a bitch.

Once he relents, he says "No. I'm referring to what makes you; us stand out as a species. What really sets us apart. It's not our brains, my friend. It's not that we can communicate. It's this."

He strokes my hand lovingly, giggling and running his fingers gently across my thumbs. His fingertips drag across the smooth surface of my glove, my skin numb to his touch. Suddenly, his gloved tips reach the surface of my wrists, hooking underneath the gloves and pulling them back. Turning them inside-out while tugging them off my hands entirely. The cold wind rushes the sweaty surface of my hands. Try to move them, but what little I can is too uncomfortable, due to the numbness of them. He discards the gloves, and returns his attention back to my pale hands.

"The thumb" he begins "is what stands us apart from those dumb animals. These are what makes us what we are, you see? These are what make us gods."

"Gods? You're mad."

"You don't give us enough credit, Sonic. You don't give yourself enough credit. I mean, you've made it this far, right? Against all odds, here we are. The robotic city. The mechanical paradise. Did you ever think we would make that? All those games we played? All those fights fought, now you're finally here to stay. Is this not what you wanted?"

Say nothing.

The smile on his face fades, and he gets up. Walking around me, and out of my line of sight. A few moments go by. Coming back around, he holds two objects in his hand. He sets one down next to his chair, and sets the other down on the table, just out of my reach.

It's a knife.

rewind.

He's dead. Fucking dead.

He's dead, and I still can't believe it. Covered in his blood, I can only stand here and stare at his mutilated form. Laying on what's left of his back, a huge hole in his fat stomach hollowed out by my quills.

It's coming back to me.

My thoughts hurt.

"We're here, Sonic. We made it."

"Tails?"

Turn to face him. He's smiling at me. Grinning eerily without falter. The smirk gets bigger, and he says something like "you didn't think it would be this easy, now did you?"

And he produced his pistol.

"Once you're out of the city, you're beyond my jurisdiction"

skip

"You really don't think our species the gods among this planet?"

"Of course not!"

I speak through clenched teeth.

"In that case, I guess you don't deserve it. Them."

"What?"

"Your gifts, Sonic. What makes you stand out."

"No!"

"If Sonic doesn't want to be god, it's only fair you lose your ability to create."

"Stop. Please fucking stop this."

"It's too late to change your mind"

"It isn't too late to stop. For fuck sake, we're friends, Tails!"

"Friends? Friends, Sonic? When have we ever been friends, hm? When could you really last consider us pals?"

My thoughts hurt. I don't want to think about these things.

"You don't even have respect enough for me to call me by my name. You constantly belittle me with your dumb nickname that constantly reminds me how much of a…" the cold knife tip touches the base of my thumb as he pauses and inhales loudly. "freak I am."

The thin metal slowly starts to separate the thin layer of skin above the bone in my thumb. Entirely speechless, I just look at him. Into his face. His smiling, insane face.

This can't be real.

fast forward.

Screaming incoherently. The 'bots still hold me down. I'm yelling at Tails.
Begging him not to do it.

and yet he seals the burlap sack with the string.

the sack struggles.
I plead.

no response.

the sack is lifted.
can't watch.

WHAP!

Hissing.
Struggling.
Screaming.
Crying.

the color red bleeds through the struggling brown sack, staining it.

that's when I can't take it anymore. that's when I break free.

Stop this fucking madness.

skip

fast-forward

play

It isn't like it's supposed to be, because I'm running at the wrong person. I'm supposed to be running at Robotnik, supposed to be trying to kill Robotnik, but I'm not, I'm trying to slay my brother, but my brother won't have it. My brother won't have it, because I can't commit myself, and this is how it ends FUCK this is actually how it ends, when my brother turns into Robotnik and everything gets dark.

my brother plays god in the game of life.

he plays god and he wins.

Reset.

Hi. My name is Sonic the hedgehog. Well, my name is Maurice, but most people call me Sonic. So really they are both my name. However, none of this actually matters. Who I am doesn't matter, because I'm dead. Dead, dead, dead. I'm decomposing energy for the world around me to feed off of. I make plants grow and parasites flourish. It matters not what I do or think. It matters not to you, who I am. The only thing my existence, or lack there of, matters to now are the worms. And it doesn't even really matter. If it wasn't me, it would be something else in my place.

I started off as cum, and look at me now, mom.

……….

Pure energy.

and everything fades

opened my eyes to
stars
that i'm running
towards
they get closer
and closer
as they start to
bleed
and melt into
each other
and i scream with
no voice
as i race to
the edge

there's a wall
i'm scared to
hit
i don't
know
what's
passed it
and i
don't
want
to
but
i
keep
flying

so i hit the wall
and break
through
on the other side there's light.

It started off as light, and that's the way that it made sense.
Jehovah; light and love. The initial concept. The right one?
God is light and love. But it isn't light anymore. It slowly faded away without warning or relent.
If I am dead, and the light and happiness I felt was god, than that must mean he's abandoned me.
The opposite of light is dark. From every color imaginable, to color's absence entirely. God hates me.
I am nothing and will always be nothing. God has abandoned me, therefore I abandon myself. The only thing left now is to stop existing entirely.

and it's as simple as that….

I regret everything.