So. My first Songfic. Go easy on me, will ya?
This is Animal I have Become, by Three Days Grace. I wasn't really listening to it while writing, just working with the lyrics. I don't songfic very well. I dunno.
Lyrics belong to 3DG, SP belongs to Derek Landy.
To to the readers of 'What's My Name';
I AM SO, SO SORRY. I sincerely apologize for what I've done. Forgive me, it pained me to write that. But when I'll (eventually) post the next chappie, I'll explain. I promise. Might wanna check out the reviews for what I actually think about it, though. I am sorry for that, but I regret nothing. I facepalm while reading it, but that's not important.
Aanyway. This will probably be a one-off. Good news is, my exams are over so I'm going to write much more. ...Good news, right?
Edit, 26 May; I've been told that copying lyrics is wrong, blah blah. While this annoys me to no end, I still listen to rules. Hence I've changed the lyrics to the song and written my own. I have,however left a couple of lines in. Ignore the lyrics, I'm really not good at writing rhyme.
If anyone wants the original fic with the old lyrics, PM me or email me. Thanks.
"Animal I Have Become"
I can't escape this hell
He'd dropped his guard. He'd given in to the rage, the pain. He'd been trapped, a meek thought in the back of what was, technically, his own head. He'd tried to break out, half hearted, weak attempts. But he couldn't. Hadn't been able to. He'd been trapped, caged. And then he'd won.
He remembered that, as he sat in his empty house right now, in complete darkness. That didn't matter. He didn't need light to see, having no eyes to reflect said light. A pang of annoyance, of anger at being like this, at being forced to become like this brought him back to the matter at hand.
Lord Vile. Screaming in his head, begging to be let out.
All he had to do was give in, Vile urged. Let all the guilt and self-loathing melt away. Escape from it all. Join Vile, this time. Not be pushed back. Become one.
He refused.
Tried to. He really did. But it didn't work, he knew he wanted that, whether or not that was Vile's influence didn't matter. So he let his guard slip, and Vile wasted not a millisecond. Vile slid from the depths of his mind to the front, becoming him.
The armor seeped through, covering him. But Vile kept his promise, bringing him back out. Letting him feel the power, the pure death magic flowing through him. Skulduggery— no, Vile— smiled a phantom smile.
They screamed. Of course they did. Like it would do any good. It only annoyed him, which made him kill them in more and more gruesome ways.
•
Vile laughed as he stood in front of the large doors. Time to pay some old friends a visit. He kicked the door down, watching as their expressions froze in horror and fear. He killed the unimportant mages with barely a flinch. Simple flick of the wrist, they were all dead.
So what if you now can see, the real me?
No one will ever change me
Never Again!
Oh,the old Skulduggery was gone. For good. He'd become better now, he thought. But then there was that small, desperate part in the back of his head. Begging for help.
Help me.
Somebody help me!
Help me rein in this sickness
(Destroy this beast, this animal) Which he was. But tame? Control Vile? The very notion was ridiculous. Completely. But that little part of him was getting stronger, bit by bit. It screamed, watching as Vile ripped Madame Mist to shreds. Not that it, or he cared much for her, but principles.
Vile stood in front of the only remaining people alive in the room, the other Elder and Grand Mage, shadows preventing them from moving, and deflecting any meager Elemental attacks.
To their shock —and confusion— he slowly removed his helmet. An old face smiled at them, cruelly and viciously. Ghastly's legs nearly gave out. "Skulduggery?" He asked, with horror, with repulsion. Ghastly had never been slow, and pieced together everything remarkably quickly. "You're... You've been Lord Vile? All this time?"
'Skulduggery' laughed. "Oh, yes." The look of betrayal on Ghastly's face was priceless. "Why?" Bespoke asked in barely a whisper. Ghastly shook his head, in pure disgust, the betrayal still evident on his face. Well, until the shadows ripped him to shreds. Vile smiled again. He liked keeping things in sets. Like mother, like son.
He turned to Erskine. "How dare you plan to kill Ghastly?" Ravel's face twisted. "You just killed him yourself, you sick freak." Ravel knew he was going to die anyway, so why not say what he wanted to? He'd been tortured many, many times before. The Children of the Spider saving him from aforementioned torture had made him hatch the Warlock Plan, after all. "How did you find out, anyway?" Ravel was terrified and trembling, but kept his voice strong all the same.
Impressive, Vile thought dully. Not that he cared.
"I have my methods." People do speak remarkably quickly when they want others to die, not themselves. He didn't answer Ravel's question, though, and killed him by slowly ripping apart his limbs while he screamed. Let him die wondering.
I can't escape this prison
(I can't escape myself!) The part -that good- was still screaming, how it couldn't get away from him. And it couldn't. But could he kill it? He didn't know. Right now, it was 'do his best to ignore it'. However, he couldn't stop hearing it. He tried, did his best, everything he could think to do, but the incessant banging inside his head was getting stronger and stronger.
I've lied so much,
So, so many times
During this long, long life
Had he not? Lied to Ghastly, Ravel, Dexter, Saracen, all the Dead Men in fact. Everybody he'd ever met. Told them he'd never even seen Vile. And after he'd defeated him once, that hadn't mattered anymore. He'd done good. He'd tried his hand at redemption.
But then there's that seething rage
But that lingering anger had never truly left him, no it hadn't. But when he'd met that girl, that beautiful little girl with one of the sharpest tongues he'd seen. One who was just like him, who understood. His partner. In more ways than one. Were they not joined, with having alternate personalities which wanted to destroy the world?
Somebody get me through this nightmare!
That somebody would be her, wouldn't it? Right now, she'd probably the only one who could help him, —well, help Skulduggery, kill him. Destroy Vile. Impossible. He wouldn't let it happen. He'd thought Skulduggery couldn't get away, separate from him, since he'd kept it equal with Skulduggery, but apparently he'd been wrong.
•
He jerked suddenly, almost running forward, the only word on his mind a repetitive screech.
ValkyrieValkyrieValkyrieValkyrieValkyrieValkyrieValkyrie—
No! Vile stopped himself. He turned back to doing what he was supposed to be doing. Killing. And by God, it felt amazingly satisfying, watching them all fall, one by one.
So what if you now can see, the real me?
No one will ever change me!
So what? So what if they knew? That perhaps, that they thought, they suspected, that he himself was Skulduggery, the oh-so-great Skeleton Detective? They'd never know for sure,and even if they did, this time Vile was here to stay. And he was going to enjoy this.
Help me
Tell me that it wasn't me
Somebody help me
That mantra started up again in his head. Dammit. That part of him begging for help, for Valkyrie, who he'd avoided even seeing so far. It'd gone down, gone quiet, being away from the one person who could undo him. But now it was back, and with a vengeance.
He put his head in his hands, newly acquired eyes squeezing shut, doing his best to block it all out.
Somebody help me
I can't quell this anger
Somebody wake me
I can't escape this prison
Somebody, of course, meaning Valkyrie. Still. But he'd kill her too. Maybe then this ceaseless screaming would go away. If he took out the hope, the light, maybe he'd have peace. While destroying other's, naturally.
(This animal, this beast, this demon, this monster, this evil, this animal, this animal)
He broke the door down, to where Valkyrie had been hiding, trying to keep alive at least one of the few Resistance figureheads the rapidly decreasing Mage population had left alive. Herself, Tanith, a couple of the Dead Men he hadn't gotten around to killing yet. The pathetic attempts of the most powerful at Magic were being easily averted by his shadows.
The sigils carved into the walls sizzled at his skin, but they were meant to keep the undead out, not that these people knew he wasn't so much that anymore. (He supposed Valkyrie and told them about Skulduggery being Vile after all.) He was alive, in at least some sense of the word now. Necromancy had killed him,after all, brought him back, kept him alive on occasion, even. Why wouldn't it do his bidding, obey his slightest thought? Create new types of uses for said Necromancy? He could, and he would.
Hm. Sigils. China, then? He'd thought he'd killed her. Pesky little thing, she was. Always slipping out of his grasp. Sneaky. He liked that about her. But the hate Skulduggery -he, himself-, he corrected, felt for her outweighed his liking for her. Let them see. Let them feel his wrath. His pain.
So what if you can now see, the true and real me?
He killed China, made sure it was painful. He also killed Tanith, just to be sure. Killed everyone else present, in fact. The look of sheer pain on Dexter's face at watching Saracen —or what was left of him— fall warmed his heart. Anton was already dead, or that Gist might have had a chance against him. Then he saw her.
Valkyrie.
I will never be changed
Evil's nature cannot be undone
And he broke.
Help me!
Please tell me, that it wasn't me
Help me believe
He collapsed, all dignity forgotten, shadows swirling like mad, as if they were debating whether he still controlled them or not. The armor melted away, parts of it breaking off or dissipating into thin air.
"Valkyrie."
He choked that out, all he could manage. She wasn't running. Wait, no. She was. She was running... toward him? How odd. Until the end, he supposed. Pity he hadn't had his own with Darquesse. But these two would always win, no matter what. A bitter laugh. Love. How completely.. vile.
Lord Vile could only think of this vague thought before he slipped away, this time for forever, or perhaps only a few moments. It was quite difficult to tell. But with their luck? The latter.
Help me rein in this
Dark, dark beast
And Valkyrie ran into his arms, held him tight. Skulduggery desprately latched onto her, to make sure she was really there. And then he whispered, nay, begged. One simple sentence before he could fall, finally. Die as himself.
"Help me. Help me believe it's not the real me."
Valkyrie held his chin in her hand. "I'm right here," she said softly. "Vile's gone. He is not you. And hey. Until the end, right?" He could only give her the barest of smiles, as he leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. A final, goodbye kiss. "Until the end." He agreed, already knowing Vile would come back soon, since he was still flesh-and-blood. Necromancy. Vile. Serious downsides to having an actual body.
Please forgive me
Let me right my wrongs
His eyes darted to the gun on the floor, left there in the fighting. "I love you." Was all he said as he grabbed it, turned the gun to his own head and blasted his own brains out before Valkyrie could even have understood what was happening. She would have stopped him,he knew, and the world would have eventually been destroyed. They both knew that, too.
Valkyrie stared at the dead, glassy green eyes staring up at the ceiling. "Skulduggery," she murmured, "I love you too. Skulduggery!"
It faintly registered in her mind that perhaps she was in shock. She didn't care. Not caring was a symptom of shock, though. He'd told her that, once. Had he? But there was no blood. Less than there should have been, anyway. What did that mean?
The skin of the handsome man melted away, last dredges of the Necromacy power finally, finally, fading. It left behind an all-too-familiar skull, this time with a horrible hole through the forehead, through the back. She stared at it, waiting for him to get up, to hug her back. To kiss her again.
He stayed where he was. Skulduggery Pleasant was finally dead. And he was either at peace, or screaming in hell. Perhaps he was drifting in an empty abyss, or perhaps this was the final lights out. Either way, there were no more re-runs, no replays. No resets.
This end is either a very happy one for the world, or one that will completely destroy Valkyrie Cain. This hasn't been a happy ending. Because for them, happy endings don't exist.
They were Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain.
The beast I had become