Soul Snuffed Out
By Cybra
A/N: My first attempt at Hey Arnold! And boy is it depressing! My poem "I Missed That Silent Plea for Help" was loosely based on this idea. It's never the ones you expect.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! or any of the characters associated with the show. I'd probably be burned at the stake for the sacrilege I'm about to commit.
Wearily, he ejected the videotape from the camera. There. It was finished. Perfect timing, too, since the pills were starting to really kick in.
The world grew fuzzy around him. He slipped in and out of total awareness. He silently rejoiced during this time. What awaited him in the next world was most likely Hell, but this world did not re-ignite his long-dead love of life. Hell might even be easier than the existence he had up until this present moment.
He set the tape down on his desk next to a candle he had brought with him. By now, the flame was reaching the last of the candle. The flame flickered, trying to hang on, but its inevitable death would soon come.
He fought off a wave of nausea as he leaned against the desk, enthralled by the candle's dimming glow. How symbolic. It was exactly the way his life had been. Once, it had glowed brilliantly with the ability to light other fires. Now, it was flickering, the end drawing near.
He had reached the bottom of the candle called his life, and he could not wait for death any longer. Instead, he chose to perform the Grim Reaper's job himself.
His personal, quiet suffering would finally cease.
He would be free at last.
Every second was an eternity too long for him. When would the final darkness descend upon him?
He did not worry about being discovered. By the time someone came up to check on him, he would be long gone.
Still, the waiting was driving him crazy.
"C'mon…c'mon…" he impatiently growled.
Strange. His voice was so soft. His voice had always been soft, but it seemed softer now than ever before. It was weaker than he had ever heard it. Had he really spoken, or had someone else with his voice spoken in order to mock him?
Darkness began to make its way into his vision. Again, he silently rejoiced. Here was Lady Death – the Dark Healer – at last. Life – the Seducer – had to bend to the dark one's will. The tormented soul death had come to claim begged for her to set him free.
The candle flickered again and died at last.
The soul it represented had been snuffed out.
A pig's snout pushed open the door leading to the attic room.
Had Abner been a few seconds earlier, he would have been the only witness to his master's demise.
