Horrors
The sea. It had always been a worthy opponent, and one of the only things to strike fear into his golden heart. It seemed hungry to him, its cold fingers grabbing at the sand, itching to swallow him whole in its gaping maw of darkness. There was no air there; he would drown.
It was hard to run on the sand, so Sonic slowed to a walk. The ground up bits of stones and shells were remnants of the ocean's past dinners, regurgitated into a mighty land mass.
I'll bet you're pretty proud of yourself, Sonic thought to the sea. You can create, just like the gods. Frightened at the way his body moved so mechanically, he walked forward. The fingernails of the waves moistened the souls of his shoes, making Sonic's feet cold. But he had to go on. He would end everything: the sorrow, the pain, the abuse, the fear, the love, the secrets…everything. His world would be over soon.
Sonic took a deep breath as he waded into the shallow waters. The cold numbed him after a bit so that he did not feel the cold, but he could feel the pull. It captured the fur around his ankles, his knees, his thighs, his waist, beckoning him, drawing him, deeper and deeper into the hungry stomach of the water before him. It was then that Sonic did something he never thought he would do.
He sprang up out of the water, and jumped into the vast expanse of dark water before him. He could no longer touch the bottom, here. He gasped above the water for a few breaths, then fought for the surface no longer. His eyes were open, and the salt stung his eyes. He could see the late afternoon's orange sky from beneath the surface of the dark water, he could feel the fish swimming uselessly around him. He felt a pinprick of fear as he thought of sharks that might come out to feed soon. He was afraid.
And then, he began to think of how cowardly this was. Although it was in his nature to run away from his problems, never in his life before this time had he ever thought of suicide. Much less suicide in this, somewhat extreme, manner. I'm a coward, I'm a coward…
His lungs were strong, and they could hold out. He didn't feel the pain from a loss of oxygen. He thought of his friends. Tails and Cosmo, Amy and Cream, both so happy together—so in love. "Love" wasn't something Sonic had experienced in quite a bit of time. He had always thought of Amy and Cream as little sisters, Tails as a little brother. When Cosmo joined them, she, too, became his little sister—one he felt it his duty to protect. What would they all say? Would they cry for him? He hoped not. He would be happy, because the abuse would end with his death. He hoped they would all understand that some day.
What of Eggman? He'd gotten lost out there in space the same time they lost Cosmo. Was he still out there, looking for a way home? Sonic thought over his battles, realizing his life was flashing before his eyes. This was it, he was staring the Reaper in the face.
Then, Sonic began to think about Jamais, the sweet little poodle puppy, and Kite and Mai, and all the other dogs and cats that lived at the shelter. What would become of them? What would happen to Jamie? Sonic had always wanted to see her go to a good home, and that wasn't with Knuckles. He hoped Shadow would adopt her, in his memory. That, he knew, was real love. If he had waited for Shadow, he wouldn't be in this mess right now. He blamed himself for the abuse now, because it was really his fault. If he'd listened to the force inside him that told him Shadow was still alive, he would've never had to be abused by Knuckles. He winced, and let himself think about Shadow.
The dark tan muzzle fur, the shapely body, that little tuft of white fur on his chest, the quills that were styled to curve upward, those deep, red eyes, those kissable, full lips…Sonic's heart sighed as he mourned his lost love. He closed his eyes as his lungs began to scream from the lack of oxygen. He could build Shadow's face to a tee. But while he was constructing the red eyes, Knuckles burst into his thoughts.
Sonic thought of the pain and suffering and fear and hatred that went with this face, and found himself reluctantly building a picture of it. Presently, Sonic cried out and broke the surface of the water, gasping for breath. A huge wave hit him over the head, spinning him towards the shore. His injured underside scraped the harsh, unforgiving sand, opening new wounds that stung when treated with salt water. Sonic coughed, still too affected by the power of the ocean water to stand yet. Another wave encouraged him forward, leaving his form sputtering for air.
And he decided that he would live.
As he walked back up to the shore, heart pounding and body aching from tire, he decided right then that not only would he live…
But that tomorrow, he would tell Shadow.
Everything.
