Records
by Aizhen Aschenhimmel
As flat as a hamerfalled disclaimer could be: I own not RO.
Dedication: To Tela, who always read what I write :3 A very big thanks to you :)
Fourth Record
Coffee
That has to be it.
It has to be the coffee.
It was a hot espresso just before Pyramids visit.
It has nothing to do with the pain that he so dearly wished would numb him instead of making him severely aware of the life dripping away from him. It's a drop-by-drop cessation of the blood, making it pool beneath him and snake away in fluid trails that went over the edge of the catwalk. And he could see it. In the torchlight the liquid glistened like a jewel, but in the darkness it's nothing more but a thicker, tangible shadow creeping into every direction-
Nicolaus stopped. And the pain became more acute than ever. Ah damn it.
Hell, I'm dying. I should be thinking of somber stuff and not stupid things like these. I should be numb and feeling pathetic by now. I should be suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness, lamenting over the past or something of that pathetic crap. Cathaline always tells me that kind of stuff, something from those romance books, when the dashing hero dies and there's a melodramatic part that goes with his death scene. The hell - that's just so weak. Azariel says so too, and Ehren's just too nice to say the same.
And he thinks the same too, really, but it's Cathaline. Say the worse to everyone but her.
The knight had to smile at that one, in spite of the biting pangs that went up and down his battered body. Yup, it's stupid. And he's just a step worse. I hate the pain, then I went here and Amon Ra kicked my ass big time. The guy whacked me hard then left me for dead. Stupid. And pathetic too. Then I lie here dying and think about people who, if I'm that lucky, are waiting for me on the other side.
Here goes my drama. As though I can't get enough of it.
So what if his last thoughts were stupid. At least they take his mind off the pain. And that's what he's after anyway. There's no need for comfort. There's no comfort in this sorry place filled with darkness and glaring firelight. It's just to forget. And maybe the end of it all too.
Odin. It hurts so much. These thoughts aren't enough. The blood isn't dripping fast enough. This physical pain isn't enough.
Damn that coffee.
It's the coffee. If he hadn't drunk it, if he hadn't remembered...well, maybe he's a little better off. There's no need to feel the pain anymore. Amon Ra whacks and, bam, I'm dead. It's one fast ticket to heaven or hell or whatever place lies beyond here.
Who knows, maybe they're preparing a welcome party. Imagine Azariel being festive.
And he laughed. He just can't help it. It was a laugh, that broken, gravelly sound issuing from his blood-clotted throat. And he was laughing so hard that his body shook in spite of the pain; so hard that tears came to his eyes.
Yep, that has to be it.
The utter stupidity of it all.
It's the coffee, that bitter sadness that keeps you awake.
A/N: The original Fourth Record is much more shallow and sillier. Maybe I'll post it later. Anyways, I think this story is kind of sad and pure angst. Reviews are much welcome.