Empty Threat
The red one. It stands out among the others to you. The stupid thing just sits there, squirming and making weird little cooing noises. They all just crawl around and when they spot you they head your way. You try and shove them off, pushing them away with your foot but one misstep and tangled feet lead to you falling flat on your ass. You would describe them as swarming although it was more like playfully tackling. Now it seemed you were the center of attention, all of them start climbing and prodding and nibbling and cooing.
The red one catches your attention again, its trying to climb up your arm. You rip it off and give it a scathing glare. It squeaks and tries to wiggle out of your grip but it has no such luck.
You sit there for a while, staring at it. The others have moved on to playing with each other but some still want to play with you. The teal one keeps nudging you and squeaks to get your attention. It works. You face it but your glare softens when you see her. She smiles at her success and climbs up your other arm, still wanting to play. You feel something on your head and, with your free hand, pick it off. The indigo one coos and giggles from the upside-down position you're holding him in. With an annoyed scoff, you drop him among a few others.
You remember, you have a job to do. Not that you really knew that when you started but this now you figured it out. You move to stand up when a terrified squeak comes from your hand. You had forgotten about it. The teal one is still clutching your arm and is attempting to get to it. You scoop her off and place her on the ground, an admittedly cute pout crossing her face.
You move to the controls, still holding it, although you're not sure why. You look over them, trying to find the right button. You don't know what it looks like but you'll know it when you see it. The red one begins to writhe in your hand, squeaking and whimpering. It's looking at something.
Your sickle. You pick it up from where you had left it, right next to the keyboard on the council. The red one squirms in your hand, strangely afraid of something it should not recognize so soon after its birth. You think it was then when the idea came into your head.
It begins to cry. You cringe at the noise. You squeeze it to shut it up but that only makes it cry louder, almost to the point of screaming. Then the teal one began to cry. If you knew what they were, you would liken them to dominoes since it seemed that if one began to cry, they all would. And they did.
You curse loudly, although it pales in comparison to the cacophony assaulting your ears now. You drop the red one and your sickle in favor of preserving your hearing as you try to find the right button. As you search for the correct button, the red one hits the floor with no injury done. The teal one stops crying when she sees it unharmed, and the others follow soon afterward.
You finally find the button, you really wonder why it took you so long to find, but that's beside the point. You press it once and watch as one of the grubs, the maroon one, disappears in a blink of an eye. Some of the others appear startled by this but you don't give them a chance to make a commotion. You repeatedly jam the button until all of them, minus one, are safely away.
The red one is trying to get away from you. It quickly inches away, looking for the others whom you just sent away. You pick up your sickle from where you dropped it and walk over to it, scooping it off the floor. It withes in your hand, streaks of red-tinged tears running down its small face.
Hesitantly, you bring your sickle to where its neck should be. It begins screaming and you tighten your grip on it to shut it up. It is reduced to whimpering, its body close to being crushed by your grip. It might just be your imagination but you swear you're having a hard time breathing. You brush that thought away, along with the cold prick on your neck.
It should be easy, you tell yourself. Tighten your hand, crush its organs. Twist your wrist, cut its throat. Cover its mouth, suffocate it. You could end it with hardly any effort, but can you?
You are aware of what doing this would mean. It would be the end of it, of him, of you, of me. They would be better off, right? It would be better if you never existed, right? All of this would just end and you would never have to worry.
It would be better for you, right? You would never be a freak of nature. You'd never have to live with the paranoia. Everything would be better, right?
All you have to do is kill a grub. So why are you shaking? Why are you crying? All you have to do is twitch, and it would be gone, and so would you and me. Do it, and everything ends.
Your hands are shaking now to the point you can barely hold your sickle. Did you think it would be easy? Despite being so close and so easy, its like you've hit a brick wall. You can hardly see through the tears silently streaming from your eyes, your hands and feet feel numb.
You drop your sickle to the floor with a loud clatter.
You can't do it.
The red one opens his eyes to look at you. You loosen your grip on him and walk over to the teleporter pad. You hesitate but you set him down gently. You walk back to the council, wiping the tears off your face.
With a hand hovering over the correct button, you glance back. The red one is watching you, and your eyes meet. You stare at him and he stares back, for what seems like forever. You are the one to break eye contact. You mash the button and the red one disappears, off to live is life, your life, my life.
Once hes gone, your legs give out. You catch yourself on the edge of the council and, instead of trying to stand again, you lower yourself down slowly. Then you just let go.
You can't stop the tears or the shaking, but you feel you really should even try to. You feel like a coward, like the worst kind of coward. And you know why? It's not because you couldn't do it. No, it's just the opposite. It's because you even thought about doing it.
You spend some time like that, just crying and blubbering like an idiot. But you know, it actually feels good. Maybe that was all you needed, maybe it was something you should have done a while ago. What ever it's doing, its helping you. You feel, well I don't know, decompressed? Like you can breathe again.
You finish your pity party and gather your wits about you. Now that what you did what you came here to do is done, there's no reason to stay here any longer. You stand up and make your way to the teleporter that brought you here. You just want to leave now and never come back to this place. It will always hold memories of what you almost did and the shame of it as well.
Without a look back, you step on the teleporter and leave, not knowing that you'll need to come back and that it will hold even more horrible memories by the time you become me and the I have to live with all the crap you put me through. And then I'll start talking to myself and well, this is stupid.
I'm just glad I never did it. 'Cause now I see there are things I still want to see. It gonna sound corny, but now there's hope. Wow, that was horrible, but screw it, I'm getting out of this place soon. I'll never have to see that room again, and be reminded of what I almost did. I'll be able to forget and just live my life. I'll be free.