Author's Note: The story is a bit hard to follow. As for the Kalita character, she is my own little addition to Nicholas's past.
[Written on 11/18/2005]
[Last edited 8/14/15]
"Within"
A Trigun Story
"Get away from me
This isn't gonna be easy
But I don't need you
Believe me
You got a piece of me
But it's just a little piece of me
But I don't need anyone
And these days I feel like I'm fading away."
~Have you seen me lately, Counting Crows
"You're dying."
"I've been dying since the day that I was born."
"Where do you think you'll end up? Heaven or Hell?"
"My profession is nothing but an illusion. I don't believe either exist."
"Is that why you leave a path of dead bodies in your wake?"
"Better to meet an early end than to slowly rot from the inside."
"Is that how you justify your actions?"
"I don't try to justify anything. Whatever happens, happens."
"Nothing just happens. Everything is preordained."
"Bullshit. I decide my own destiny."
"But by putting faith in this statement, others are inevitably drawn into the void with you."
"Void? I don't understand. You talk in nothing but riddles."
"I know no other way."
"WilI l live another day?"
"That, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, is entirely up to you."
"I don't deserve to draw another breath."
"One who lives in the past cannot live in the future."
"Who said I lived in the past? Quite the opposite in fact."
"Why do you live in denial? It is the past that makes you kill."
"What's wrong with that?"
"You are not God. How fast will you race towards your own destruction, Nicholas?"
The priest awoke with a great heaving gasp as if his soul was still fighting with that mysterious presence that invaded his dreams. The voice offered truth wrapped in disturbing riddles. Running a hand through his bangs, Nicholas stared at the flawed ceiling above him. A layer of paint had recently been added, barely concealing the worn, cracked and crumpling plaster that dare call itself a ceiling. What was he doing this in junk heap? Surely there were other motels, better motels he could have stayed in. This is how you perceive your life.
Nicholas sat up, eyes growing wide at the bold statement. "How the hell can you say such a thing?!"
Take a good look around you, Nicholas. This room is your life. The contents of your very soul lay out in the open for all to see. The worn ceiling, all the things you have ever done wrong are plastered onto these shoddy walls. The new layer of paint, a good deed among so many wrongs. I ask you again, how fast will you race towards your own destruction? Sooner or later, every foundation falls.
He fell silent, finding no words available on his lips. He tried to console himself by convincing himself that this wasn't happening. After all, he had had a few drinks before going to bed. I'm still dreaming...that's it! Grabbing his leg, Nicholas pinched hard. Hard enough to bruise. "Dammit!"
Why do you live in denial? Right those wrongs before the darkness smothers the light.
Nicholas fished a cigarette from underneath the covers, running the match along the wall beside him. The top of the match sprang to life, flame wavering dangerously close to his face. A lone light among shadows, he thought lighting the cigarette and inhaling deeply. "What if the darkness is a part of the light?"
Then you have indeed trapped yourself in a Pandora's box.
"Leave me alone already. I didn't ask for your advice in the first place, and the last thing I need is another voice telling me giving me orders."
Heed my warning, Nicholas...please...
"Go away, Kalita..." The words came out soft as if Nicholas were afraid to utter them. A ghost from the past. Nothing managed to slip past his defenses so why were his dead lover's words ringing in his ears? "I must be going insane," he mumbled, lips pressed tight to prevent the cigarette from slipping.
Sighing heavily, Nicholas stood up, muscles offering resistance after a hard day of traveling. His footfalls sounded thunderously loud to his ears, and he narrowed his eyes irritated. Perhaps he did have too many drinks last night.
"To my own destruction? What was she talking about?" The tiles beneath his feet were cold, and he treaded lightly before striding across the bathroom to relief himself. He paused in front of the mirror, blue eyes appearing darker than usual, catching his interest. "Is she right? Am I drowning in shadows? How long before the man is swallowed by the monster?"
Nicholas chuckled softly, small grin curling his lips into a broad smile. Full-throated laughter fell into the air, and he leaned on the counter, struggling to regain his composure. He threw the cigarette to the floor, crushing it with the ball of his foot unconsciously. The action brought little comfort to Nicholas as he brooded, eyes frozen to the reflection in the mirror. Was it just a flicker of light that made his face shift unnaturally? Or was it something else entirely? How polluted was his soul by now?
"Chapel..."
Nicholas spun around so fast, his vision blurred. He waited until the outline of the figure was clear before frowning. "What the hell are you doing here? What if Vas-"
The sax player mirrored Nicholas's stance, staring intently at the bare-chested priest with a raised eyebrow. "Surely you didn't forget Gung-ho Guns like to check up on each other once in a while?"
Nicholas shook his head, closing his eyes briefly before leaning against the bathroom counter. "What's your real purpose for being here, Midvalley?" The Gung-ho Gun raised his arms in defeat, chuckling. "I never could fool you, Chapel."
Midvalley's eyes darkened, and he approached Nicholas with a reserved frown. "I was sent here by Master Legato. He's beginning to suspect your-"
The bedroom door burst open.
To be continued?
