The Bitter Sense of Loss

by SmackBlasta N

This is a character's internal monologue that I had written during an Aberrant game I had been part of. There's a lot of backstory, etc, so don't expect to know what's going on. First submission ever, so please read and review. Thanks.

Medlab is deserted right now.. Jake is up on one of the parapets, watching over us all with that quantum sight of his. J's probably on the other one, maybe with Gabriel there, maybe not. I wonder if J realizes how blessed he is. Misti is probably in her room, taking care of Kaitlyn. He's probably with her. I can't blame him, it wasn't even his fault, and I'm sure he blames himself enough as it is. Haney's probably spending quality time with Monica, if that's what it can be called. He's the lucky one. He didn't lose anything.

And here I am, sitting alone in Medlab. The lights are off, reducing the oppressive glare of the featureless white walls to a drab grey. Shadows cover the tables and walls like a mold covers a decaying body, mirroring the thoughts that I find coursing through my mind when I let it wander. My eyes wander as well, straying to the three coffin-like cryo-chambers that occupy a portion of the room. Each one a pointed reminder of the dangers we face. I close my eyes again, trying to focus on being calm, letting myself adrift.

Something disturbs my state of mind. My eyes open as I feel an almost imperceptible up-welling of Quantum reverberate through the room, followed by a ghostly cacophony of echoes from other parts of the castle. My eyes are drawn upwards, to look at the part of the ceiling where Jake would be sitting on a parapet, acting as the silent guardian of our long night.

The small amount of peace I had thought to find sanctuary in is gone. I find myself standing to pace the room, as I have been doing the entire night. As I move to the side of the first chamber, the shadows in the room flicker and dance as my body interferes with the only light sources in the room. The LEDs of the chambers all shine a brilliant emerald, signifying their continued operation. The green light makes a ghastly shade on the walls, tinging everything with their own noxious hue. I find it disgusting, when normally it wouldn't bother me in the slightest. The room has the same oppressive atmosphere of a tomb, which by all rights it is, until such things can be dealt with.

I slowly make my way to the first tube, where Gabriella's burned and tortured body lies inside. It occurs to me again that she once was the most beautiful person to walk the face of the earth. Now, as I look down through the glass at the bloody and charred visage inside, another thought flits through my head. There is no beauty in death. Death robs a person of whatever natural grace and dignity they once had. Gabriella's ruined face is now a horrid mockery of the angelic perfection she once possessed. The fact that she was indeed living perfection makes the scorched remains even more hideous. She doesn't even have the appearance of one finally at peace, like so many other people do when they die. No, her cracked and bloody face is frozen in a rictus of burning agony, as though she had died in the Hell of biblical literature. She never deserved that. Of all people, she should have been the one with the chance to die peacefully, without pain. I think of J, wondering how he's dealing with the death of his wife. Probably finding some form of solace with his son... At least he has a son to remember her by. As it was, he was taking it rather... not well. Calmly. J has a lot more control over himself than I do in a situation like this. I'm ashamed that any of it happened.

Leaving behind Gabriella's tube, I move to stand near the one in the middle. Chris lies inside, looking as though he were in peaceful meditation. A sharp contrast to the decimated remains I had just stood over. His eyes are closed, his face is completely devoid of all the stress and fear that he had been harboring and hiding for so very long a time. He looks like he finally has a chance to rest. But it only takes a moment to realize that something is gone. Chris, too, is dead. Although the wound, the gouges in his flesh marking where his heart was shredded by black iron claws, is no longer there, it is painfully clear that he is no longer alive. The flush of life is gone from his face. His skin is cold and pale, made even more so by the green glow being reflected off the walls. He will never speak again. He will never again stand on a hill watching the sunset, pondering life's mysteries as the sky darkens. He will never again enjoy his daughter's smile, her laughter as she pulls one of the pranks that she's so known for. He leaves behind his wife as well, unable to protect them from whatever dangers lurk in the future. But he still succeeded, for even as he fell from the sky, pierced by Malak's taloned hand, he did his part to ensure his family's survival. He succeeded as I have failed.

I move away from my friend and teacher, forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other. I come to the side of the last cryo-chamber, placing my hand on the smooth glass surface. I can't make myself look down, part of me screaming at myself about how I'll never be able to rise from the depths of despair that I now inhabit if I do. The voice of sanity, trying to keep me from once again lapsing into a rage, or collapsing into a comatose bundle... but that voice is just a whisper, now. The straining muscles in my neck slowly relax, allowing my head to bow down, letting me look into the cold, sterile chamber.

Pratima. She lies quietly inside the tube, her eyes half lidded, a dreamily contented smile played across her lips. Lips that would normally be the color of roses, red and sensual.. Now they are tinged with grey, her eyes glazed over, her skin blanched of color. Her neck, once flawless skin, is now marred by a horrid scar that goes completely through it. For I failed to do what a husband must do. I let down my guard, because I believed that in the confines of our home, our very stronghold and castle, that we were safe for a moment. I relaxed, allowing myself to lower my defenses, and paid for it with her life. I look into her eyes, and the gaze that looks back at me is an accusing one. Accusing me of failure. Asking me why. 'Why weren't you there? Why didn't you do anything? Why did you let me die?' Which is exactly what happened. I let her die, because I was too GOD-DAMNED stupid to save her. I felt the killing blow being delivered, I knew it was coming. But I didn't react fast enough to save her. Instead of acting, I spent the time it took to turn around and see it for myself instead of trusting my instincts. I turned around just in time to see her head fly from her shoulders as HIS sword slashed through her neck. I could have saved her life, I could have knocked her aside, knocked him aside, deflected the hit, TAKEN the hit, ANYTHING! And I let her down. I stood rooted to the ground, unable to believe that one of my most trusted companions would attack her, and she died because of it. It should have been me. It should have been my head that flew into the air, not even realizing that I was dead. I should be the one in the tube, not her! I was the one who fucked up, not her! She should still be alive, not me... I'm crying. I'm watching my tears fall from my eyes, splattering against the glass cover of the chamber. TEARS WON'T BRING HER BACK, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!

I let my head hang, tears flowing freely from my eyes as I yet again let myself succumb to the torrent of anguish that I feel inside. Behind my closed eyelids, I keep seeing flashes of her being taken from me, and the rage that followed. I still can't remember all of what happened after I saw it. I remember Malak's hellish gaze, Divis Mal's mocking laughter, the warped crackling of electricity, the banshee wail of screaming winds that make a hurricane seem like a summer breeze. More than that I remember the pain, the terrible sense of loss that yawned open and threatened to swallow me whole.The injuries I sustained during that desperate battle were nothing compared to what I feel now. I think of J, with Gabriel by his side as Gabriella was placed in her cryo-chamber. I think of Mai and Jade, the two of them now without Chris, who was an anchor for all of our lives. But they all have more than I do. Mai and J both have children to remember their loved ones by. I have nothing. That is, nothing except the bitter sense of loss, and the damning gaze of her dead eyes as I look at her through the glass. The damning gaze that asks me why I let her die.