Author's Note: I hope this NEVER happens, ever. That would really suck, you know? But people on my other story with the open ending claimed that Zim would get revenge on us or prove us wrong or something instead of giving up so easily like he did. I agree. So here you go while I try to use this to get out of the writer's block I currently have. It's probably my most depressing story yet, and I hate that, but it's apparently necessary for this type of story. Gah, ANGST! And because of that, it's not exactly my best, but I don't care. I thought I'd put it up anyway. It's been sitting long enough in my Doc Manager, so I might as well clear it out a bit.
And if you even suggest that this story has hints of RAPR, I swear to Irk I will send a deadly assassin after you for thinking that I would put any hints of untrue romance in these stories.
Warnings: Character deaths, both implied and otherwise.
Disclaimer: I don't own Zim, Gir, Purple, or myself (strange, isn't it?). I think I might own the other deceased Irkens, but I'm not sure if they count. Probably not.
"You thought you could be rid of Zim so easily?" the strangely tall Invader hissed to the fearful Tallest. Purple frantically tried to escape the strong hands pushing him against the wall, shooting a worried look towards the general direction he knew his friend's body lay. It had all happened too fast for him to completely process. There had been a shattering of glass, screaming, and blood spattering across the walls. A part of himself still imagined Red somehow sneaking up behind Zim and taking him down for good and bringing everything back to normal. The problem with that was the fact that Red's Pak was across the room from his body, trapped beneath a pile of rubble, still sparking with electricity.
Zim noticed his gaze and fired in the general area of the rubble, extinguishing Purple's potential hope of reattaching it to his friend in time. The Invader gave a sharp-toothed predator's smile at his only Tallest trembling before him. It was all justified in his mind. Those two petty, inferior beings deserved every moment of pain and fear inflicted upon them.
"For years, Zim did nothing but follow your every command like a good little soldier," Zim announced. He tightened his grip ever so slightly, drawing a gasp of pain from his leader. "For years, I thought nothing of your giggling or his sarcasm. I assumed it was all a test of loyalty that would be rewarded once Earth was destroyed. But what did you do when I accomplished my mission? You laughed at me. You told Zim the entire mission was a fake, that I was a horrible little defect that didn't deserve to even be considered part of the Irken Empire. I didn't believe you, and I even naive enough to think it was another test. That was years ago. It took me a while, but now Zim knows the truth: you're both pitiful, cowardly liars that only wished to banish me until the end of time. You're not worthy of Zim's loyalty!"
"W-we're sorry! I told you that already!" Purple pleaded with the clearly insane Irken.
"Sorry isn't enough," Zim hissed. "The word sorry does not reverse time nor does it serve its purpose of righting any wrongs the speaker has done. It's rendered meaningless from overuse."
"I'm sorry! Please, let me go! Let me go and nobody will ever bother you again! I promise! You can even be made into a real Invader again, have your own soldiers, your own fleet of ships, anything you want!"
Zim barked a laugh at this. "It's far too late for that. Bargaining with your killer by promising him impossible things...do you think Zim is stupid? The moment I would release my grip, you would call for help and try to foolishly revive my other Tallest so you could work together to bring upon my doom!"
"No! Really! I'm not brave enough to try any of that! It would be Red who would do something like that, not me! Ask anyone and they'll tell you the same thing!"
"Everyone in the Empire knows of that fact," Zim admitted. "But that's only in normal circumstances. It's impossible how you react when things in your life drastically change. Trust me, I know, thanks to you two and the Dib. He and his gargantuan head are no longer a distraction from the obvious truth. I do not even wish to speak of his demise at the present, though I still relish the fact that I was the one to cause his obliteration. He was even ridiculed by his classmates at his own funeral. Someone had carved the word 'freak' on the rock they put on top of his grave for what I assume is fear of him coming back as a zombie. Such an outcast among his own kind, as am I. Zim is an outcast no matter what, whether among my own superior kind or among the disgusting Earthanoids. I had to pretend to be in grade school again because of my height. You know how humiliating that is to someone as brilliant and wonderful as myself? Of course you don't. You never had to worry about that."
"Let me go," Purple whimpered.
Zim tilted his head to the side, listening for something and shushing his leader. "It appears Gir will now arrive. Excellent timing. Now you can see his improvements."
"Improvements?" Purple gulped. "Wh-what do you mean?"
"I replaced his brains with an actual computer chip. It turns out his brain was really made out of a gumball, a paper clip, and two coins." He smiled again, teeth glinting in the light. "Isn't that fascinating? He was a nuisance and a distraction for so long because of his lack of a true brain! It was then that I realized who supplied his brains in the first place, my Tallest."
"Sir! I have destroyed the Paks of all security guards and any who interfered, as you wished," a familiar S.I.R unit announced upon marching into the room. Its eyes glowed a functional red, looking exactly like the S.I.R that Zim would have originally gotten if not for his and Red's interference.
"Very good, Gir," Zim praised. He stepped back from the wall and let Purple painfully fall to the ground. "Now, take care of the Irken who created your original defective brain while I prepare for the ceremony. Zim would do the execution himself, but there is a part of myself that would restrain my hand from strangling this filth that I once worshipped, and I cannot personally witness another Pak removal without being sickened. That is still a weakness that will only be rid of through time and experience. So do your job while I go prepare for my new position."
"Yes, my master!" Gir responded with a salute. Zim nodded and marched out of the room through the door that would take him to the Tallest ceremonial chamber. Purple knew Zim had indirectly killed all of the other Irkens located in that part of the ship with the explosion he had caused upon entering, so he didn't see how Zim was going to go through with the ceremony alone. But knowing him, he would find a way, and no one would be the wiser. No one would even remember the leaders they had before Zim.
"Gir, please, listen to reason," Purple begged of the S.I.R unit. "You're smart now! You have to understand why Red and I did the things we did! The Irken Empire can't handle having Zim as a Tallest. He would just run it straight in to the ground because of all the defects in his Pak messing up his reasoning skills! You know that!"
"Do NOT try to trick ME, lowly scum!" Gir snarled, eye twitching. The robotic right arm shifted into the shape of a simple death ray gun, which he calmly aimed between the two widened violet eyes. "You were hateful to my master. My master will do no worse of a job running the Empire than you and that other guy did! Spending all of those monies on luxuries and snacks...you two were the most selfish beings in the universe that ridiculed your own kind without a good reason and without mercy!"
"There was TOO a reason!" Purple retorted. "They were short and ugly and stole food from us!"
"BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T FEED THEM!" Gir shouted. "What else were they supposed to do? Starve? You're so idiotic! Back when I was stupid, even I had enough common sense to make sure even the most insignificant mammal had tacos and waffles any time they wanted! I force-fed TACOS to a filthy PIG because I thought it looked hungry!"
A glow started to form around the point of the ray gun, building up to a nearly blinding sphere of deadly light. Purple swore he saw images in that light, memories of his life all the way up to present day. Even with a gun pointed between his eyes, he still could not understand what the S.I.R unit was trying to explain, and was stubbornly sticking to his opinion that he and Red were right all along.
"This is Death Ray Grande, version 2012," Gir stated in an offhand way. "It slowly cuts off almost all of your senses except for your nerve endings. You'll literally feel the electricity shorting out every individual wire in your Pak before shutting it down permanently. You'll be forced to endure the agonizing and imfamous Ten Minutes to Doom that every Irken knows about. I've heard it's quite painful."
"Why are you telling me this?" Purple whined. "I didn't need to know!"
"You did!" Gir argued. "You did need to know! That way you can decide how to spend the last ten minutes of your life. Will you do it regretting your actions, mourning your friend, or feeling sorry for yourself? I'm granting you this privilege only because you were the one who brought my master to Earth in the first place, setting the puzzle pieces of his eventual destiny in place without even knowing it. This is your last gift. Use it wisely, you idiot."
"GIR! Where are you?" a familiar voice called from the chambers. "The almighty ZIM needs your assistance with something!"
Gir's eyes glowed. "Yes, sir! Just finishing up with your Tallest!"
"Well, hurry! I don't have all day!" Zim commanded. Gir nodded and blasted Purple as he had promised before marching towards his master without looking back at the crumpled form.
Purple emitted an unholy screech of pain at the electricity coursing through his Pak, permanently damaging the essence of who he once was, eliminating everything crucial to his survival. When the electricity ceased, the infamous death clock Purple had heard so much about appeared in the corner. It steadily ticked away while he dragged himself blindly towards the general direction of the rubble Red's Pak lay under. No thoughts or plan really ran through his mind, he simply was acting on instinct. Without his own Pak being fully functional, it was impossible to even conceive the notion of a plan.
He pushed aside some rubble and came upon the familiar black and silver Pak. It still was sparking, unlike his own, which may reveal that there's still a chance of it having the ability to be reattached to its master. Unless it was malfunctioning and going in to the mechanical version of death spasms because of Zim blasting it not too long ago. He quickly wiped the debris off of it. Purple coughed violently for a full minute once his lack of an atmospheric processor really started to affect his breathing. It suddenly became much harder to crawl over to Red and place the Pak somewhere around where his back was. Purple couldn't really tell. His eyesight was starting to go as well along with his ability to breathe normally.
He waited, staring at his friend, waiting for any sign of a flutter of opening eyelids with life shining in them. He would know what to do once he woke up. He would wake up any minute now, swearing revenge on Zim and putting everything back to normal so Purple could die peacefully. Any moment now, Red would be waking up. He would be taking charge. He would magically fix Purple's Pak and let him in on the new plan to regain control of their Empire against the traitor known as Invader Zim.
It was only in his last minute of life that it really started to dawn on Purple that his friend was truly dead with no hope of reviving. He choked on a sob and clumsily pulled his knees up to this chest. He didn't want this. He didn't want to die in a room with nothing but dead bodies to keep him company. Purple desperately wanted to live again, free to do what he wanted with Red beside him laughing at his jokes.
His breathing became shallower, inducing random coughing fits from the dust floating in the air. He didn't dare move, as even the slightest twitch from a muscle sent him into spasms of pure pain. Purple would have screamed if he still had the capacity to. He was left laying there next to his dearest friend, left to die as a coward who, even then, didn't fully understand what he did wrong.