Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/33117091.

By WhyAreYouRunning!

Notes

Trigger warnings to suicide and the like. If you can't read material like that please don't read this.

The End of Everything

When one thinks of the underground tunnel and roads of Hollownest they often think of unending darkness. One where no moon nor sun can penetrate. A place abandoned by the light. Left to sink into the dark.

Upon a visit, however, they'd find it quite illuminated. The light bulbs of the city filled every dark avenue and street, every park and glen. In some places, you could be mistaken for thinking light resinated out of the very earth, seemingly in defiance of the sky and its glow. Even fires raging throughout it could not shadow the lands but instead only made it glow brighter.

To Hornet, it was a strangely comforting sight. It was nice to know it wouldn't all end in darkness, at least not for her and her present surroundings. She never thought she'd watch it burn. It had been a sort of mindless fantasy but never one she really wanted to see come to fruition. It brought on the folly of bugs. Those that dug too deep and built too high. That it all would come crumbling down one day. Watching the Pale Kings mighty towers crumble should have been satisfying. Instead, it filled her with sadness. It reminded her of an old story Quirrel had told her.

She couldn't remember the name, it made her head throb. It was of a bug who played the lyre while his city burned. Quirrel was keen on history but her takeaway was philosophy. He stated it was the folly of bugs. That whatever we create, from the greatest archways and hippodromes to the smallest cottage will all fall to dirt and ash eventually. Time takes all as does greed and power which will ultimately doom all bug kind. All would be lost.

That's where the dread came from, her warrior spirit was at peace with the storm, it was the existential that hindered her. She wouldn't have had this problem if not for Quirrel. Frankly, she'd be a lot better off without having met him, both mentally and physically at this point. But then again her entire quality of life would have gone down without him.

Put upon the great scale of life it seemed to balance out. So in some strange warped way she was glad to have the cracked rib puncturing her left lung, for there would be no punctured lung without Quirrel.

If not for him she would not have ventured into the archives to search for him. She would not have searched room to room in vain, falling farther and farther into a world where he might be dead on the floor. She would not have finally locked eyes with him, soaked in blood and viscera from the bugs slain around him, a moment of pure joy to no longer be alone in such a world. One where he lifts his arm, pointing to her left in distress. And certainly, she would not have felt the bulking mass of an infected guard crash into her side and her ribcage would surely be fully intact.

It's the duality or rather the dichotomy of these two worlds. One in which she lives in solitude, alive and reasonably well isolated from the world and alone. Or one where she finds great comradery, and perhaps love, but in turn she ends up stuck on top of a rooftop, surrounded by infection and death.

Just a few feet away Quirrel stood, limping first to the edge and once more overlooking the crowd of bugs surrounding the building before turning and pacing horizontally to where she lay, muttering to himself the whole time.

"Maybe… Maybe we could… No." He said under his breath, a hint of desperation in his voice.

He was trying to dredge up a plan that would never come. Reality edged its way into her world which was rather unwelcome. They couldn't escape the horde down below. And with little to no mobility left in either party, it seemed they were stuck here indefinitely. But surely this wouldn't be the end for the two. Surely they won't end up two dead rotting corpses atop a random, insignificant building amidst the remnants of a burning empire. They won't end up a forgotten blip, lost beneath the earth. The whole notion was absurd and her mind would have none of it. It simply refused to believe that such an outcome was possible.

The door to the roof gave a shudder as a huge force once more crashed into it from the other side. It shifted inward, concaving from the pressure but still holding firm. But for how long?

Quirrel had stopped his pacing. He now looked out over the crowd below, his eyes no longer scanning for escape routes or openings. Instead he stilled, lost in his own mind.

Then he turned to her. His eyes were empty. They pierced her, but she felt nothing. Her soul was already dead. Gone off someplace far away, to brighter pastures. She had not been left behind, she was simply in the transition stage between the two.

He stepped in front of her, just a few paces away. He fell to his knees, his bum leg giving no sign of the pain from its contact with the floor. His head was bowed down, no longer staring at her but just below her.

Time was an illusion, the seconds ticked on but they might as well have been days or weeks for how it felt. In this bubble, time had no hold. It simply stood on this moment. If not for the ever-present rain one would think the world had stilled. Well that and the…

Another thunderous crash came from the door. It edged outwards a bit more, no longer covering the whole door frame. A few singular claws poked through trying to get at the two less than able-bodied bugs but they seemed to make little progress.

Quirrel made no motion or reaction to the noise. It is quite hard for a dead bug to hear much of anything. Stimuli was for the living. But death would not come knocking. Her mind had finally agreed to the idea that death might be real and that it may bestow its grace upon her. She was not too concerned with this, there are things worse than death. Like being instituted into a collective hive mind and having one's brain bleached.

The darkness that threatened to consume her was scary. The black void of nothingness. But then, being forced to walk the earth as a husk with no will of their own was a far worse fate. Even now she could feel it, as her breaths became more forced and the rib piece pierced ever farther into her lung, the light beckoning her to join them.

No, that's not what she wanted. But to avoid such a fate you had to destroy the body.

"Quirrel." She rasped out, "I don't… I don't want to turn."

Quirrel looked up at her. A sort of sad understanding came between the two, that both had thought the same thing.

"Well…" He started, "we can't go by the noose nor can we jump, the piles of bugs down below would cushion our fall and we'd be ripped to shreds. And that door'll come down long before we starve." Even now when faced with oblivion his mind still had to work out the best solution. Writing out the plans for his own execution. If you're going to die you might as well do it properly.

The door lurched once more. The hinges groaned and a few snapped but somehow the door remained in place. The last bastion before their demise.

This time the door caught the attention of the scholar though he looked back at it lazily, unfazed or even bemused by the whole situation. Perhaps he felt their call too, but his face made no notion of doing so.

"I… Really only see one way out of this." He said. He reached over to where his nail lay and lifted it up. He swayed it a little, back and forth.

Of course, this option had crossed her mind; it just wasn't the most appealing. She was a warrior through and through, just being in such a profession meant that this sort of outcome was more than likely. It was more the act of doing it yourself that made her uneasy.

"I suppose you're right." She struggled forward, reaching for her own nail and grasping it.

"Now, there are two ways to go about this. Across the neck or through the heart." Quirrel said, staring at his blade.

"Oh, through the heart of course. We're the…" She stopped as a coughing fit overtook her, blood-spattered across her hand as she tried to hold it in. Once it had passed she continued as if nothing had interrupted her, "we're the classy sort, we wouldn't want to make a mess of things." She jested.

"Indeed, what would the neighbors think?" Quirrel followed along with a short chuckle.

"You'll probably want to be sitting up for this." He said hesitantly, offering his hand. She took it and forced herself into a kneeling position much the same as Quirrel. It hurt like hell but her mind was elsewhere.

"This is sort of fitting, right? What do they say? Those who live by the sword die by the sword." He said.

"I suppose, though it's a shame we didn't bring a giant pen for your impalement. Then we'd have a proper art piece." She said, her voice still raspy but light-hearted.

This produced something quite unexpected. A genuine laugh from Quirrel. It wasn't a hearty laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless. This in turn made her laugh, the idea of these two above a burning city on the eve of their deaths cracking jokes to one another.

It was strangely calming and seemed to make the whole thing more manageable. The laughter did not last long. The weight of the world and their own mortality laid heavy on them. And yet he smiled at her, and she smiled back. It seemed the end was inevitable. There was no escaping their fate so they might as well enjoy what they have left. The past was in the past and there was no future, only the present.

"I'm… I'm glad you're here." She said though it had sounded much better in her head. Saying you were happy to have someone to die with you for your sake suddenly seemed rather rude.

"I'm glad as well. There isn't a place on earth I'd rather be." He said.

"Really? I could think of a few." She retorted.

"Yes, but all those places don't have you in them. In them, I would be alive and miserable. At least here I can be dead but happy… In a way." He finished. Happy wasn't the correct term to use for certain but it made little difference at this point.

Quirrel had it all timed in his head. Counting down the seconds to his death. That timer was very quickly drawing to a close.

"Next time I'm gonna do it right." She said interrupted his thoughts.

"Hmmm?"

"You know. Next time I won't spend months waiting to ask you out. We'll go to that fancy bistro like we always said we would. That'd be a nice start" She began, "And we'll get a place proper, up in the glade away from everyone. Just the two of us."

Quirrel nodded slowly. "That sounds nice. I could write research papers and you'd hunt our meals. We'd live poor but quaint lives. Quiet lives." He closed his eyes for a second, imagining the two of them growing old

"Maybe after a while we'd have some kids running around too. It'd be stressful and we'd argue over every aspect of their life. But eventually they'll move out to the big city to find their fortune and we'd be content with that."

"I look forward to it." He said with a smile. For just a few seconds it seemed like everything might be alright. That in some time and place they might try again.

The bugs at the door finally seemed to reorganize, or perhaps all those in front had finally been squashed for another thunderous crash slammed into the door. It was at its breaking point. It was barely a door anymore, more of a piece of scrap iron blocking the path.

At this Quirrel looked at her, his eyes spoke volumes. It was time. There was little left to be said. He took his nail flipping it in his hand so the blade facing towards him, and she followed suit with her nail. It was rather long and unwieldy but that wouldn't be a problem for much longer.

"We'll go on three, okay?" He asked. His voice was calm as ever but his hands deceived him. They shook lightly as he tightened his grip. She reached out her hand and placed it on his. His shaking stopped almost immediately, his fortitude returning.

Their sunny dreams had dissipated. The world lay heavy on them now and the air seemed to grow thick. Quirrel breathed in and out, eyes closed. A last mental check before it all went dark.

Hornet looked over the burning city. Taking in the sights of the world one more time. A hateful, tormented place she despised. And one she would never get to see again. Quirrel had always said it had a hidden beauty and that she'd see it one day. The cold lights mixed with the burning flames. The ever-present rain and the heavy mist that clung to everything. It was strangely beautiful. Beautiful because they both followed the same fate. To fall to ashes, to be forgotten.

There was no time to dwell on such matters. It might cause hesitation. That was something she couldn't afford right now.

She turned back to Quirrel. He let out a long exhale and opened his eyes.

"Alright. One…" He began, lifting up his blade and leveling the tip to his heart. She followed suit.

This was it. All the waiting and small talk had pushed the thoughts aside but there was no hiding anymore. No more pretending. This was the end of the line. She might have felt her own hands start to shake, it was hard to tell. It was like her body was going numb. Like it was already dead.

"Two…"

It was all happening too soon. She wasn't ready for oblivion. A minute ago it had seemed far off and diluted but now she was staring into its murky waters. Darker than the void wells beneath the earth. There was too much left to see, too much left to do. It couldn't end like this.

All sounds around her were drowned out by the thundering of her heart. It felt like it might just give out on its own. Blood thudded in her ears, it made the world hazy and hard to focus. Her head swam with emotions. Like her brain was making every feeling she would have felt and played them out all at once. Time had become irrelevant as well. Every moment felt like an eternity and yet ended so quickly. Drawing ever closer to that final moment. That final number.

"Hornet?"

Just as suddenly and chaotically as they had arrived all the swirling emotions stopped dead. Her heart seemed to stop, as did the rush of blood behind her ears. Her arms, still wielding the nail at her chest, were completely stiff. All her focus was on the bug in front of her.

In his eyes she could see the same storm of emotions she was dealing with. Like the body readying itself for the end. But something gave him pause. It wasn't fear or lack of will. There was one last thing he had to do.

"I love you."

That would be it, the last thing he had to do on this mortal earth. The drum of doubt and despair seemed to alleviate at that. They were still there but they seemed far off now.

"I love you too."

The earth seemed to pity the two lovers and slowed. Allowing the moment to drag on as they stared into each other's eyes. With that the ruse was up. The body was committed, it would not falter. There was nothing left holding them back anymore. It wasn't going to be okay, nothing would ever be okay again.

Maybe their conscience would be carried off somewhere else. Maybe they'd be trapped here amongst the corpse of an ancient forgotten city. Or, perhaps, they'd unravel as the unending darkness swallowed them whole. Whatever the outcome was, they'd be there together.

She breathed in, then out.

"Three."

Her arms moved without hesitation. Any feral sense of self-preservation was gone, there was nothing left to wait for. As soon as the nail's tip touched her skin she involuntarily leaned over, as if to soften the blow.

The pain was immediate but there was too much momentum to stop it now. As fast as it had entered her it came out the other side. The pain was quickly replaced by an overwhelming numbness, it took her breath away. It was like she had forgotten how to breathe. She did the same motions and acts of breathing but nothing happened, no air filled her lungs.

Quirrel had fallen over, unmoving. Blood pooling around the scholar. She couldn't move nor make any judgment on the matter. Her mind was screaming in fear, trying desperately to cling to the last vestiges of life as she felt her body shut down piece by piece. She looked down at her own hands. They were covered in her own blood.

The world began to darken. It wasn't like going to sleep, it was like falling, like some omnipotent force was dragging her down. Her head hit the floor. Her body went limp and moved no more. Even her eyes could only stare dully forward.

She could only make out colors. Hues of blue and grey, with just a hint of red. These colors were slowly filled in by darkness as it ate away at her vision. The last dots of light went out one by one like dying stars.

The world went black and she saw no more.

End Notes

Thanks for reading. This was supposed to be a 1-day writing piece but I ended up stretching it out over a week with rewrites. Usually, I backtrack with my sad stories to have a happy ending, I'm a sucker for happy endings. That being said I might write another short chapter later with a happy ending (or at least a happier ending). If you enjoyed it please tell me or if you hated it also tell me, the only reason I do this is to improve my craft.

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