Disclaimer: None belong to me. Blah.
Just a little short story I wrote. I'm not really sure how it turned out, so I hope it ain't too bad...or wierd. Well, anyway it later becomes apparent who the story is about. Warning due to some cursing and bad words! I wrote this in a car, waiting for someone. :D Review please, for I don't know what to think of it.
Note: Probably no one noticed but I fixed it up a little, couple of words here and there, thanks to a fellow author who's really cool. :) And to clarify, yes this is a oneshot.
Drowning
By Darkhymns
-
Cold. It was always cold in here. Never for one damn second was there warmth. It had to be freezing here, just for him. He would have left if he could, but his body was dead. Felt like it anyways.
Perhaps it was his redemption, he would sometimes muse to himself as he slowly breathed in the sharp air, feeling it move in his lungs like tiny daggers. God liked to play cruel games with his creations. Some omnipotent pleasure, like those deities of the ancient Greeks. If someone did not meet with their liking, bam. A little reprimand for pleasure. A warning that no one can outrun their fate.
Except he was not God's creation, not exactly. He wasn't even normal. Just put together by those who wanted to be God, trying to surpass the limits of their beings. Should have quit while they were ahead. Otherwise it never would have come to this. He was supposed to have a purpose, but he never found out. Not liked it mattered.
A little difficult when your trapped in here…in the cold. He must be frozen in a block of ice. Otherwise, why could he not move? He could confirm it if he could open his eyes at all. But he was too weak. Being reduced to this state was an embarrassment. He hoped no one would see him like this. Paralyzed like a god-forsaken cripple. Especially…
Great, it was starting again.
The cycle of memories was a merciless knife turning in his heart, jarring free the blood. Just another of the damn pitiful angst that invaded his being every time. Like a fucking skipping record. The mind was truly a cruel thing, showing the weak-willed individual everything again. Things that you want to forget, need to forget. For you know that it is only a matter of time before you scream at them and the unthinkable occurs. But the psyche of the mind did not always work that way. Hell no. Sometimes it was the complete opposite, not repressed. Was it so horrible that the mind refused to overlook it, no matter what it did to him? Always grabbing his face and shoving it into that rotting canker, that shit of memories?
He had tried to bury it in the grave, smoothed the dirt over it so that it seemed nothing ever disturbed the nurturing earth, hopeful that perhaps something nice and beautiful would grow from it. That it was only a dream, a nightmare that never occurred. But instead it rose up like some decaying, ugly, haunting, unforgiving monster that would gobble him up, because it desired to. Because he was a just another failure, some cheap rip-off for the real thing. It already tore through him; munch, bite, chomp, crunch, crunch, crunch.
He should have let himself fall, it would have been so much easier. Then he would not be here, in the cold. He could have joined the others, joined…
Damn it. Why couldn't someone just come in and stab him or something? Replace the emotional pain with the physical. Or shoot him, probably quicker. It would only take two seconds to pull the trigger. Bang. Simple. Not so hard.
But they won't even do that for him. He was still freaking alive. He should not be alive. Just pull the trigger…like with her. They did not hesitate before. Why stop now? Just do it! Why keep a weakling alive? Those fucking idiots, those damn humans.
You just love to play God, don't you?
Just pull the trigger. Two seconds. Bang. Simple as that.
Repetition. The mind was indeed cruel. It was hard to say whatever really happened at that hellhole, too many clear images that he could not decipher which were real or not. But he remembered that over there it had not been cold. Not like now. The gray walls of suffocating heat, breathing in the toxic clouds that stung his eyes. He recalled crimson rain falling on his own eyes, the same shade. Falling with the sound of sharp blasts echoing. It was almost pretty to look at, like glittering rubies. Only if you did not think past it, how the rain came and where it was born. Then it was not pretty at all, just something that made you sweat despite your shivering.
He was not blessed with ignorance. He was forced to know. A simple fact.
Perhaps he would have forgotten the entire incident if it had not been for her. Her voice was all he had, and he clutched it fiercely in his chest, knowing he would truly be lost without it. He dared not forget that. So by remembering her, he remembered the rain, the heat, the shots.
Pull the trigger, softly. There, simple. The mind was always laughing.
Gotta buy the whole set. If you want that little thing, gotta pay full price.
So he did. Nothing of great value was achieved without sacrifice. Even if it meant losing your sanity.
In the cold, his mind was his only friend. Always there, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Always there to laugh.
Well, friend was not exactly the best word. Companion, comrade, ally, acquaintance.
There! That was it. Acquaintance. He had thought of that word at one particular time. Acquaintance, nothing else. Just there to keep him company, never for comfort.
Sad, but then, what wasn't in life?
He was stuck being alive, lifeless. The mind was still there, watching him, for its eyes were everywhere. It wanted to start again, no matter what it did to him. Like he could stop it anyway. He was just a failed creation. Nothing more. A universal fact.
Back in self-pity mode again?
His eyes move beneath closed eyelids, frantically searching the void for a way out. The torturous, endless conversation started anew. He could not even escape for one freaking day.
Don't even try to ignore me, since that is next to impossible.
He was sweating despite the cold.
Research this again. The ones that shot her are probably still alive, or at least their kids are, right?
His fingers twitched, the only movement he could do. He knew he was going insane. That was obvious enough. He fought against it, as he had for the last eight million times. It always made him go back, pointing out the things he did wrong, what he could have done to fix it, what he should have done. Looking back, he could now see a thousand opportunities that had been opened for him.
Yet he had let her fall, because that was life. That was the result of cowardice. The mind never said otherwise.
It is time to fix your mistakes. It is time to leave and take action.
His fingers stiffened. His slow breathing was taken down a peg. It had never said that before.
"…What?" he spoke for the first time.
About time you talked. Though I would appreciate it if you did not interrupt.
"W..wait…"
Are you deaf? I'm not done. Your're always bitching about your life and we both know that you failed. No surprise there. But laying here indefinitely, sleeping here in your own filth is even more pathetic. You might as well be dead like she is, rotting underneath the ground-
"Shut up! Don't say that about her."
Good, we're getting somewhere. But don't yell at me, I wasn't the one that shot her now, am I?
He could only comply, seeing the truth of the words. "No…"
She's dead, not just because of you, but of them as well. They didn't care for her, she was just an obstacle. Just another number for the casualties, a cold, dead girl.
"…Cold, are you saying…"
Now you're getting it.
"But…no. She said…she wanted…"
Want what? You to help them? No, she never said that. No person in their right mind would say that after being betrayed by their own. She was so young, and they took it all away from her. Because she was not needed.
"..So young…"
She's counting on you to do this. Don't disappoint her.
He no longer felt the cold, a burning warmth surrounded him now. It pounded in his head mercilessly.
"But…how can I-?"
It is the same thing you want.
Clenching his fists, his one cherished thought rose from the dark alcoves of his wishes. That beautiful desire that would repair mankind's flaws. He had never realized it was there.
Understand now?
It came in a rush. He would make them see what they fear, what their decisions had manifested. Man should not exceed their limits, never strive for divinity. It was not their place and he knew it. All it did was breed disaster and chaos. He was the result.
Punishment was needed.
That was all there was to it. Just one thing. Simple.
He grinned darkly as the voice inside him, his acquaintance, praised his resolve.
The mind was a cruel thing indeed.
"Aha! I finally got it!"
After typing in the password, the obese doctor watched in anticipation as the elongated pod rose slowly from the steamy depths. Rubbing his hands together he smiled with maniacal glee, convinced that the key to his ultimate goal lay just inside. Silently, he thanked his grandfather for leaving him such a rich memento.
The lid on top slowly opened, letting out milky smoke. He could barely contain his excitement. "Yes, this is it! No one can defeat me now!"
But his laughter turned to a shocked gasp as he saw a most familiar form gaze down at him from the top, smiling maliciously.
"What? Sonic! Must you always interfere…wait, you're not-!"
Doesn't it feel good to get out of that stuffy place now? I'm glad you finally listened, Shadow.
The red and black hedgehog could only hear the pounding in his head, not the pathetic stuttering of the repulsive man beneath him.
Because that was what they all were, beneath him.
Crimson eyes searched his surroundings. He knew his one purpose now. The coldness of the pod was gone, his imprisonment completed. Frozen in captivity, in suspended animation, always awake, always feeling. Always hearing the mind speak, over and over.
Something you can never forget.
Press the trigger, softly. Bang. There, simple.
The pounding grew louder, and that one purpose grew stronger. That one thing he wanted to do for the longest time. Yes, it was all very logical. It was a matter of discipline.
They both wanted this.
"Maria, for you I will do this," he whispered so softly that he only he could hear them. "For you, I will make them suffer."
He slipped down, drowning in ebony desires.
Then he smiled. "And for myself as well."
Shadow never realized the pounding in his head had turned to derisive laughter.
It was time for Man to receive their punishment.