Not content with breaking you all once, I decided to continue this! Except, this time, WITH MORE SADNESS. Ready?
It isn't over soon. Zacharie lays there for what seems like an age, but nothing happens. Eventually, limbs weak and achy, he stands and stares at the door the Batter disappeared through. Part of him wants to follow, to find out what's going on, and why the world hasn't ended. He almost does. Almost. But then he remembers the Batter leaving, shaking him off, ignoring his pleas for comfort, and the air tightens around him. He can feel it, that heavy weight of absolute solitude that he has come to hate. It's clawing at his throat, picking at his mind, crackling in his ears, and twisting his stomach into knots. The walls seem to close in around him, suffocating him... His mind screeches at him to get out, and he does so, turning and slamming his hand down on the red save block behind him.
Once in the Nothingness, he stumbles through the nearest zone gate, and finds himself staring at a city. Zone 2. The previously pink buildings are now a stark white, the ground bleached, the air stale and tasteless. Zacharie drags himself wearily through the streets, not seeing his surroundings, memories of slightly happier times filling his mind. He remembers meeting the Batter for the first time, in the smoke mines of Zone 1. And then later, outside Dedans office. The roof of the library, the shop he used to own, his theme park with the roller coaster that the Batter had seemed to enjoy. Then in Zone 3, watching with amusement as his friend attempted time and time again to cross the hall, constantly stopping and starting as his Puppeteer checked the map. More amusement when the Batter kept fidgeting on the underground tram, unable to sit still for a few minutes. Zacharie smiles sadly at the echo of the past, allowing all the good times to flood his head...
And then a shadow in front of him catches his attention. At first he thinks it's a spectre, but this place is purified. No spectres here. He takes a closer look, shuffling cautiously forwards until the shadow becomes a silhouette, and his heart skips a beat. The silhouette is tall, lean, with a baseball cap on its head and a bat hanging limply by its side. The merchant feels the tension leave him, the first sparks of elation lighting in him, and he throws himself at the silhouette, wrapping his arms around the familiar torso. But something is wrong. His friend is too cold, too still, and he can hear no heartbeat in the chest pressed against his ear. Zacharie looks up to ask what's wrong and, in that second, the hope is snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
It is the Batter, but not the one he once knew. This Batter stares down at him with unseeing eyes, mouth hanging open, blood splattered all over his clothes. Zacharie backs away, arms dropping to his sides, as the... the thing tilts its head. A wide, sickening grin cuts the face in half, and two Secretaries appear from the mist behind it. Zacharies stomach churns again as he realises that they have no eyes. To avoid looking at them, he directs his attention back to the Batter, only to be hit by another wave of nausea as his old friend raises the empty hand to his face... and claws out an eye. It drops to the ground with a gross plop, and is quickly followed by another, the Batters second eye gouged out as efficiently as the first. Now the twisted grin is painted with blood. There is nothing left of his friend any more. Zacharie watches as the Batter advances on him, flanked by the Secretaries, bat raised in the usual manner. He doesn't move from his spot. Why would he run; there's nothing left for him now. Sugar, Pablo, Valerie, Enoch, Dedan, Japhet, the Elsens, and now the Batter. All killed in the process of this 'sacred' mission. What a joke, he thinks, as he closes his eyes to the whistle of a metal bat swinging through the air, the rough moans of the Secretaries, the background whispering of the purified Zone.
A thump rings out in the emptiness, the finality of it deafening. The echoes reflect of each other, and are joined by a despairing wail. The wail of an insane man who has simply regained his senses. Eventually, that too dies down, and silence reclaims its territory once more.
I have to admit, I did cry while writing this. Did you guys enjoy it though? Maybe leave a review letting me know, if you have the time!
Oh, and one other thing. I recently started up a new blog on Tumblr! It's called off-shipping-headcanons, and I'd really appreciate it if at least a few of you checked it out. See you next time, bros!