A/N: Hello!
I think this is gonna be the second to the last chapter, not sure yet, it depends how I decide to end it (yes, I STILL haven't decided on an ending).
ARGH! I've forgotten the disclaimer for the whole thing! Ok, here it is (although I don't really see the point of disclamiers 'cause people aren't gonna come to ff.net and sue every single fanfiction writer): Invader Zim does not belong to me. The end.
I am a sneaky piggy. The dirty chicken has a seeeeeecret (actually, it's my secret. forget the dirty chicken): all the weird words that you can't understand that the Irkens have been saying are actual human words, but backwards. Maybe that clears things up... if you didn't figure it out already.
As usual, MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY (I'll shut up now) THANKS go to Amethyst Soul, my beta, and all those who reviewed. I am your humble servant! I will... er... exist to write the last chapter! You are pleased, yes? I COMMAND YOU TO BE PLEASED!
Someone now told me to give credit it 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings'. I should've picked a different subject. Well, this story is not about a girl getting raped, and I take a much more negative approach on the bird (I say it doesn't sing, 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings' is about it singing) so I think it's safe to say that it's nothing like 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings'. Ok? Got it? Good.
Dios, I write long Author's Notes.
---
"Damn, we're in real trouble now..."
Gir giggled and stepped closer to Dib. "Don't worry, Master."
Dib jerked in surprise. Gir hadn't said 'Dib Master'; it was 'Master' now...
"Ooo!" said Gir, interrupting Dib's speculations. "What's this thing do?!" He pushed the pastel yellow button in front of him. Dib's eyes widened upon further inspection of the object: it was circular, with a black symbol shaped like a gun printed on it.
"Look! It's so bright 'n' shiny!" Gir pointed to the walls, turning around and around to see the amazing spectacle.
All the buttons flashed their outward color, creating bright neon patterns around the room. Swirls, squares, triangles, circles, squiggles... virtually every design and shape imaginable formed in the flickering lights. As this took place, various beeps served as notes for a highly annoying tune that played over and over again, fitting the exact rotation of the shapes.
Dib looked down and rubbed his eyes in irritation at the sudden changes between the colors and pictures. Gir squealed happily and clapped his hands together. "They look like fireworks!"
BEEP.
Flash.
BEEP.
Flash.
BEEP.
Flash.
BEEP-
When the last note of the song struck, the room went pitch black.
The low buzz of silence was all that could be heard.
A series of words, through the light of the buttons, appeared in the darkness of the room on the wall opposite the door: SOLDIER, PREPARE TO REPORT FOR DUTY.
Dib had hardly enough time to open his mouth before the elevator shot upwards. His ears popped with the sudden change of velocity and he felt as if he were being pushed into the ground. Gir grinned, laid flat, and put his arms into the air, roller coaster style.
The world gave a sudden jolt and a loud bang! as they came to a stop. The double-doors slid into the walls to reveal a large group of Irken soldiers. Dib froze as the hundreds of alien stares bore into his skull.
"Hey, isn't that the guy the High Invader was after?" said one of them, breaking the tense air.
"Yeah, it is, isn't it?" agreed another. Simultaneously, their red eyes narrowed. It would have been comical, had the situation not been such a dire matter.
Dib hit the button that he hoped would close the door.
"Look! It's a monkey wrench!" said Gir. He hopped out and to the right, chasing after what looked like a large, blue spider.
"NO!" yelled Dib. "Stay here Gir!"
"Let's get da pale alien weirdo creature!" shouted one soldier.
"Lay eggs in his stomach!" said another.
"Crush his gargantuan head!"
"We can use him for target practice!"
The elevator doors released large amounts of purple smoke and began to shut in an agonizingly slow manner.
"Gir, come back!" Dib pleaded, squinting through the billowing smokescreen.
"Let's give him to the scientists to experiment on!"
"How about a nice round of 'torture session'?"
A black gloved hand reached through the small crack left in the doorway, cutting through the lavender fog, searching for its victim. Then, the door shut.
"ARGH!"
Dib heard the owner scream as the arm was clamped down upon. The hand spastically jerked this way and that, the fingers wriggling like worms on a hook. With a sickening crack, light green blood began to slowly ooze from the arm as the doors squeezed even harder.
Dib grimaced and turned to the other wall. "Escape pods, escape pods, where are the escape pods?!" he muttered to himself, searching the buttons for one that would lead him to a possible way home.
BAM! The metal was dented inwards as the soldiers on the outside tried to force their way in. The hand now limply hung, lifeless, though the same could not be said for its owner, who was still shrilly screaming on the other side.
"Argh, which one?!" He had narrowed it down to two choices, both next to each other. It was between these: a trianglar or circular aircraft?
"Let us in, you big-headed... er... thingiemabob!" a soldier yelled stupidly, voice muffled by the thick wall before him.
Dib held his breath, closed his eyes, and pushed a button.
The elevator went dark once more and began to whirr loudly.
He opened his eyes, only to see: he had missed both buttons entirely. Instead, the one that remained lit was three away from his primary choices. It held a symbol that resembled a human exclamation point.
The lights on the wall now read: PREPARE TO ENTER ESCAPE POD STATION.
Dib stared, open-mouthed, at the bright words of good fortune.
What luck he had...
---
The monkey wrench blue spider thing is funny! I keep almost touching it, then it runs away again! Hee hee! It looks kinda fuzzy too, like the cotton candy at the fair with the piggies and the goats!
Doo dee doo dee doo...
Hey, where did Master go? He was in the lighty flashy room thing with me, and now he's gone. After the monkey wrench thing came, I heard him calling my name. Was I supposed to go to him? Was I? Did he want me to go with him?
I know he wanted me... otherwise he wouldn'tve called me, right? Old Master didn't call for me when he left, but he's gone too. Master wants me, I know it! He called my name! HE CALLED MY NAME!
Master wants me... right? Yeah. Think I'm sure.
... alone again.
This time... alone 'cause it was my fault.
---
"SOLDIER SEB!"
The sharp crack of a whip reverberated across the room.
Seb fell to his knees, hands placed flat on the ground, arms shaking to support his upper body. His hook-like antennae quivered and his magenta eyes brimmed with tears as he looked up to the face of his delieverer of pain. Zim's fiery eyes glared back. Seb flinched and looked to the floor once more.
Thousands of other Irkens stood, backs straight, eyes focused straight across the room. Their arms were at their sides, slightly crooked at the elbow, and their hands were balled into tight fists. Each's stance was a replica of the one beside it, as if they were all made from the same mold. The only differences were slight: various head shapes and shades of red for eyes. All their facial expressions were identical: determined and set with firm gravity.
"Soldier Seb, what did I tell you?" Zim said, his voice in a weirdly misplaced, calm tone.
Seb began to draw circles with his fingertip onto the floor. "Y-you s-said-" he stuttered. "Y-you s-said to, um, stand straight with my head up high, Sir?"
"Is that a question or a statement?"
"Statement, Sir?"
CRACK! The whip snapped upon Seb's back again. He gave a pitiful wail of pain.
"Fool!" Zim hissed. "Can you not answer a simple question?"
"Y-yes, Sir?"
CRACK!
"Y-yes, Sir."
Zim smiled. "Ah, now we have some slight progress." He began to pace back and forth in front of Seb, right hand with the whip behind his back, left hand scratching his chin in thought. "Although, for you, I believe it is a huge progress. Gargantuan. Probably the most recognizable thing you will ever do in your life: answering as a statement and not as a question." He sneered. "One as low as yourself cannot understand one of my position. This is true, yes?"
"Yes, Sir?"
CRACK!
"ARGH! I mean: yes, Sir."
"That's better."
CRACK!
Seb screamed and put a hand to his back, trying to calm the stinging opening the whip had left on his back. The wound could be seen, even through his hand was attempting cover it. The muscles contracted, spewing more blood into the air. Neon green flesh was decorated with turquoise veins.
Zim turned to face the rest of the soldiers, making his voice loud enough to project across the room. "Do you see this weakling?! He is an example of who you should not be! Answering everything in a question is equal to questioning my authority! And questioning my authority is not an option while I'm still in power!"
CRACK!
"ARGGGH!"
Seb lay on the ground. Light green blood, colored the same as the gaping hole in his back, began to seep through his uniform.
"This is the one-winged bee of our efficient hive!"
CRACK!
"This is the offspring of a weak mother!"
CRACK!
"This is a horrible excuse for a sentinent being!"
CRACK!
"This is who you don't want to be!"
CRACK!
"This is who you must avoid!"
CRACK!
"This is who you must never become!"
CRACK!
"Stop! STOP!" Seb pleaded.
Zim halted, his hand in mid-swing; the whip dangling back and forth in the air. He smiled maliciously. "What did you say? I'm not sure I heard you quite right."
Seb quivered and looked at his fellow soldiers for help. Getting no reaction, he sat up, looked at his gloves and whispered. "Stop, Sir?"
CRACK!
"FOOL! Did I not say earlier to answer as a statement?! Try again!"
"S- stop, Sir?"
CRACK!
"Imbecile! 'Stop?' is a question! Are you QUESTIONING me? Such a thing is treason!"
CRACK!
"ARGH!"
CRACK!
"NO!"
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
"STOP!"
With these words, Seb collapsed from his sitting position to his knees again, panting and staring at the small imperfections in the metal floor. He coughed, and bright green blood came, splattering underneath him. He choked on it, coughing even more to get the burning liquid out of his throat.
Zim towered above Seb, twice his height, arms crossed victoriously. He bent down and whispered in Seb's ear. "That's better. Maybe, just maybe, next time you'll think to get it right. No one questions the High Invader... if they wish to live."
He walked down the row of soldiers. Frozen in their positions, none moved as he passed.
Seb stood up feebly, knees shaking. His uniform was wet and stained; his boots were dotted with green.
Zim's figure grew smaller and smaller as he walked to the exit.
Seb wiped his face with the back of his glove. He stared at it, then licked it, running his tongue along the smooth leather surface, cleaning every crevice. He stopped, savoring the metallic taste of his own blood, licking his teeth, then grinning. "One day, I will taste your blood...," Seb gave an exaggerated bow to Zim's retreating form. " ...o' High Invader."
---
The lights on the wall now read: PREPARE TO ENTER ESCAPE POD STATION.
Dib stared, openmouthed, at the bright words of good fortune.
He had missed both buttons of choice and had ended up pushing the right one! Wiping his forehead, he collapsed against the door in relief as the elevator began to slowly descend, contrary to the fast ascent he and Gir had made earlier. Reminded of this, he thought of the little robot.
Gir was gone now... there was nothing he could do. Maybe, if he was lucky, Gir would find a new, even better, Master than he. One who wouldn't leave him on a ship of the enemy...
Dib shook his head. No, it wasn't his fault. He was regressing back into the state of depression that had caused him to run from his home the night before. Always blaming everything on himself... but who else did he have to blame anyway? Zim couldn't be the excuse anymore...
"APPROACHING ESCAPE POD STATION." said the mechanical voice of the elevator. Dib smiled, throwing his dark thoughts aside. This time, he would win. He would get Gir back. Once he had captured Zim, he would find Gir and protect humanity from the alien threat!
The old fire came back into his eyes, finally re-ignited after being killed by the dust of the attack on the Earth three years ago. That would lead to Zim's downfall: the power of his will and the strength of his decisions! Dib was sure of it!
In his now optimistic state, a plan rushed into his head. He would go back home in an escape pod. He would capture Zim. And after that... well, he would worry about 'after that' when it came.
The doors slid open. Dib cautiously peeked out from behind them and, seeing no one in the room, he snuck out and hid behind a large wheel, surveying his surroundings. No guards appeared to be on duty: the whole hangar was empty! He couldn't believe his luck once more. Crawling out from behind the wheel, Dib looked out the large window and saw his home planet, sitting there in its great beauty and radiance. He stared at it with a glazed look in his eyes. This was what he had been fighting for, the very thing which fueled his existence, his will to live. He wouldn't let it go easily.
The scythe-haired boy climbed into the gray aircraft closest to him and started the engine. He put on a helmet and adjusted the strap beneath his chin, taking a deep breath to calm his jittery nerves.
As he put his shaking hands on the steering wheel, he whispered reassuringly to himself. "I'm coming home."
---
"WHY HASN'T HE REPORTED IN YET?!" yelled Purple, pacing back and forth in front of the transmission screen, brow furrowed in a combination of exasperation and agitation.
"Don't worry," assured Red, sprawled out, belly down, on a large orange couch, reading a magazine entitled 'EDUN IRKENS!'. He put his claws to a plate of nachos, took one, and began to chew on it contentedly.
" 'Don't worry'?!" Purple repeated in shock. " 'DON'T WORRY'?!?! How can you even say that?! Our entire FUTURE as leaders of the Irken race depend on one weak soldier and you say 'Don't worry'?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!"
Red chuckled. "Heh, you're cute when you're all aggravated like that."
Purple's mouth dropped open, struck speechless. Red continued reading his magazine.
"You... you... wha-" Purple was interrupted by the computer.
"Incoming transmission from warship JV-737."
"Many a good cycle, my Tallests. Soldier Seb of the warship JV-737 reporting, Sirs."
Purple turned to face the screen, face contorted in fury. "YOU! Where were you?!"
Seb winced and rubbed his wounded back, which the Tallests couldn't see from their point of view. "I'd rather not speak of it, Sirs."
Red stopped reading, then sat up. "Alright, alright. We 'won't speak of it'. Just tell us what's going on."
"I have a team ready, Sirs. We will catch the High Invader unaware, Sirs. It will happen soon, Sirs. It will not be long for you to wait, Sirs. It will not be difficult, Sirs. My helpers are most reliable, Sirs. Most reliable. If you give me permission to run the ship after the High Invader is disposed of, Sirs, I can bring you the fleet back, Sirs. I will try-"
Seb cut himself short as Red held up a single claw. "Need I tell you to 'shut up', or can you do it yourself?"
Seb nodded. "Yes, Sir. I am quite capable of doing it myself, Sir."
"Good." Red grabbed another cheese drowned nacho.
"We grant you control over the crew of the JV-737, ship of the High Invader," said Purple. Seb's face lit up.
"BUT!" the Tallest added. "Only until you can reach Militaria, do you understand?"
Seb nodded, eyes bright with happiness. "Oh, yes Sirs! I am most excited, Sirs! Most excited! You will be most pleased with me, Sirs! Most pleased! You will be the highest powers very soon, Sirs! You can count on me, Sirs! I will work to the best of my ability, Sirs! I am your most humble servant, Sirs! Most humble! I-"
Red held a claw up, and Seb shut his mouth quickly.
"You are dismissed, Soldier." said Purple, rubbing his temples to fight off an oncoming headache.
Seb saluted, hitting his hand to his forehead with a little too much gusto. He rubbed the area where he had hurt himself. "Ow... I mean: Yes Sirs! This is Soldier Seb, signing off!"
The screen flickered, went black, then retracted into a storage area on the wall. Purple slumped onto the couch next to Red. "I feel a huge migrane creeping up on me...," he groaned, massaging his temples once more.
"Why'd you let Seb be in charge?!" Red asked, head cocked in questioning.
"Simple," Purple began to explain, putting a hand on his forehead and closing his eyes. "Number one: there's really no one else to be in charge 'til they get back. Number two: what harm can an Irken like him do?"
Red grinned. "Good point: he's a total pushover."
Purple sighed. "Yeah, that's about right."
There was a pause in which the maid could be heard vacumming the outside corridor.
Red reached over and began to massage Purple's antennae. They pricked, then relaxed in pleasure. "Does that help the headache?"
His mouth curved upwards. "Yeah, a little."
"You're cute when you smile like that."
Purple's eyes snapped open. "WHAT?!"
"You heard what I said." Red advanced upon his fellow Tallest. Purple jumped off the couch, eyes wide.
"Heh, you cannot resist!" Red chuckled.
"No, no, NO!"
"YES!"
"No, leave me alone!"
"Come here, Purple, I NEED to DO something with you...,"
"ARGH! I won't! GET AWAY!"
"C'mon, only a few times couldn't hurt...,"
"I wont submit to you! You can't get me to do that... that... horrible thing!"
"Eh heh heh. You know you want to."
"No! I despise doing that! You always force me to! You... forcer-kind-of-person!"
"Aw, you know you like it! Just come do this one little thing... it wont take long!"
"NO! I REFUSE TO DO THAT WITH YOU! NO! Maybe with someone else, but not with you!"
"YES! You will do it! There is no refusing the power of-" Red paused and grinned devillishly.
"-VIDEO GAMES!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
---
Zim watched the small escape pod make its way towards Earth through his large window. He put his palms against each other, then entwined his fingers, raising his hands up to his chin. So Dib had escaped.
Maybe Zim had underestimated him...
"Sir!" a tall, tough-looking, Irken burst in. "We have just recieved word from the weapons department that your alien has escaped from the torture chamber! Also, a vehicle has been reported missing from the Escape Pod Station!"
"Fool," Zim hissed, putting his arms on the rests of his chair. "Do you think I am blind?! Look out the window!"
The muscle-bound soldier did so, and then turned a very pale shade of green. "Sir, I-"
"SILENCE!" Zim commanded. "Leave! Leave at once!"
The commandee scrambled out of the room as fast as his bulging legs would carry him.
Zim glared at Dib's vehicle, which was now preparing to land. "How did you escape?" he muttered. "How did you get out...?" He shook his head and sank into a deep mode of contemplation.
"Hello, High Invader." Zim's thoughts were interrupted once again by another intruder. He gave a small noise of exasperation and turned from the window. "What do you want?!" His eyes widened, then narrowed, as he saw the figures before him. "Seb."
Seb's grin spread from antenna to antenna. He was flanked by a dozen burly soldiers, each armed with several laser guns. "Yes, it's me," he stated, smile growing wider with each word. "Aw, are you scared, poor little Zimmy? Are you scared that the 'pitiful', 'little' Seb is going to be your bringer of doom?"
Zim blinked, then gave a mocking laugh. "No, no, I'm not really scared. Ok, I admit that you did surprise me a bit. But no one could actually BE as stupid and weak as you were acting. I suppose I should have been on guard... ah, a careless mistake on my part. I can't believe I let myself be so naive...,"
Seb's eyes reduced to slits. He took a sharp, barbed, whip from one of his minions. "Why are you just waving me off as if I were some annoying, buzzing, little fly? I am no fly. You cannot simply brush me away. I am much harder to get rid of than that." With this, Seb lashed out at Zim's face. Zim cried out in pain and fell from his chair as the sharp thorns of the whips hit their marks. Deep cuts had shredded Zim's uniform and pierced the skin; a long jagged gash ran from his chin to directly below his left eye. Thick, neon green blood began to ooze out in generous amounts. He put a hand to the wound in attempt to stop the bloodflow, staring at the ground, wide-eyed in shock.
Seb laughed. "Ha! Now you'll have a scar just where you gave one to that 'human' creature! How ironic..."
"Do you know what I think is ironic?" Zim said quietly. "I think it's ironic that I actually miss you speaking in questions with 'Sir' at the end every single time... when I used to think it was intolerably annoying."
Seb tightened his grip on the whip, bringing it back in contact with his enemy over and over again. Zim's body was jerked around by the weapon as if he were a vulnerable doll clenched in a running child's filthy hand.
Seb stopped, advanced, and bent down beside Zim. "I heard you speaking to your alien. You talked about how he never had to take the pain he gave you..." Seb wrenched Zim's hand away from his face and grabbed his head, forcing Zim to face him. "You talked about how 'all lifeforms deserve to feel what they dish out', or something along those lines." Seb brought his enemy's face even closer to his own and continued. "You hypocrite," he whispered angrily. "The way you put it... that means that you should be whipped until you cough up blood too, yes?"
He stopped talking as Zim shot him a glare.
Seb's followers stood perfectly still, replicas of each other in, not only their expressions, but in their build and features as well.
"That reminds me..." Seb said, looking at his soldiers. He turned back and put his tounge to Zim's cheek, still holding his head firmly in his grasp, then licked the blood off hungrily. He worked it into the deep laceration he had inflicted, cleaning it of the blood, running it along the exposed flesh and over the veins. Zim winced as Seb's violating tounge touched his open face muscles. He pushed him away with all his strength.
Seb merely licked his lips, stood up, and smiled. "Ah, that's much better. Much better. You see, after you whipped me earlier today, I made myself a little promise: to taste your blood, instead of mine. I'd say I've fulfilled that promise, don't you think so?" he ran his tounge over his lips again, his smile turning into a wide grin. "The taste of revenge is not sweet, as is commonly thought. It is actually a taste... quite metallic. You'll have to believe me, because I don't think you'll ever experience that taste; that of revenge. Not against me anyhow."
Zim got slowly to his feet, knees and arms shaking.
"You'll never win," Zim retalliated, almost spitting with rage. "As clichéd as it may sound, like some Earthling 'movie', you won't. You only have your measly twelve soldiers. I have the rest. How can you even think you have a chance?!"
"Ha!" Seb snorted. "You think this it the extent of my power! Do you think I am stupid? Headstrong?! You underestimate me then. There are many who hate you, despise even. They would sooner join me. Also: I have the Almighty Tallests' consent to take control of this fleet."
Zim's mouth dropped open, and his anger vanished. "H- how in the universe did you manage that?"
Seb grinned. "Bad choice of last words, Sir. SHOOT HIM!"
The flash of the laser beams filled the room with a brilliant shade of pink, temporarily blinding all who occupied it. This pink turned to red, blue, purple, then black. An ear-splitting whine emitted from the combined weapons, going up and down in tone, as a tea kettle would on the stove.
After a few moments of this chaos, Seb took his hand away from his eyes to see his enemy, curled up and unconscious on the cold metal floor, eyes shut tightly. Blood trickled out from his slightly open mouth.
"Send a transport down to Earth, quickly!" Seb ordered, a plan forming in his mind. "Send it down with a soldier for the High Invader's little Earthanoid friend to find him... I think the human would be so generous as to 'take care' of little Zim for us, yes? Maybe he can play with Zim's mind. Or what's left of it anyway." He turned to look out the window, and smiled. "If he doesn't know he's doing us the favor, that is."
---
The escape pod's engine spluttered in annoyance. It moved jerkily forward as Dib took his hand on and off a pad which seemed to be the accelarator. His head snapped back and forth with the sudden bursts of speed and abrupt stops. So far he had only gone about half of the way towards Earth from the main ship, traveling in this slow manner. His teeth rattled in his head as he spoke. "S-s-stupid a-a-alien t-t-transport-s-s!"
The entire ship bounced as Dib headed toward the gray, abandoned building which he had sheltered himself under only a few hours before. He fought the urge to retch all over himself.
"O-o-o-h g-g-od, d-d-don't l-l-et m-me d-die, I s-still h-h-have t-to w-win o-o-over Z-z-zim!"
He bent over to throw up on the floor of the aircraft and, in doing so, rested his hand on the accelerator.
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Dib screamed in surprise. He was pushed against the back of the seat just before he could relieve his stomach of its contents and too petrified to realize that he should've taken his hand off of the accelerator. The ship sped ahead quickly, scattering fragments of rock as it went.
"YEARGH!" he exclaimed. The Earth was drawing nearer and nearer at a rapid pace, too rapid for Dib.
The browns, greens, blues, and whites of the world filled Dib's entire line of vision, and the continent of North America was just visible under the heavy rain clouds that hung above it.
Seeing this, Dib regained his senses enough to start steering the aircraft with the joystick beside him, although why he did not take his hand off the accelerator while doing this, cannot be said.
The transport raced towards the ground at an amazing speed, pummeling birds out of the air and splattering insects against the windshield.
Dib's eyes widened as a large, run-down building came into view. A mechanical voice emitted from the speakers of the small ship: "Five seconds to impact." it stated in monotone.
"Four."
Dib ducked under the dashboard.
"Three."
The whirring engines grew louder.
"Two."
Dib clenched his eyes shut.
"One..."
BOOM! The entire world seemed to shake as the collision occured. The ship was wedged tightly into the wall, half inside, half out. Pieces of concrete the size of small asteroids fell from the ceiling, leaving naked wires from where they came.
Pushing aside the debris, Dib emerged from the heap, coughing the dust out of his lungs. He checked himself over for injuries, running his hands along his legs, midsection, arms, then face. He stopped at his left cheek. The wound Zim had made, which had just begun to heal, was now freshly opened. In vain, he pressed his hand against it in attempt to stop the stinging. For, as you see, it was 'in vain' because the stinging was not physical, but mental. It wasn't a stinging of betrayal, slow and bovine. It wasn't that of loss, hitting in small attacks and coming back again. It wasn't even that of shock, a low buzz in the back of your head. This stinging was loud and reverbarant, vibrating in the very walls of Dib's mind. It bounced back and forth, touching every crevice of the brain, then moving down to the rest of his body, spreading its influence and taking over, like some horrible, fast-acting, form of cancer. It was a disease which conquered the entire being. A bacteria which infested so many, and led them to their dooms. The stinging, the buzzing, the infectuous feeling of revenge.
Destroy Zim, the being which made his life so miserable. Annihilate him. Rip at his body until the flesh was gone, leaving muscle and organs for decay to eat away at until only the sun-bleached, grinning skull remained with the rest of the age yellowed bones.
But before the kill... suffering. It was not optional. Make him suffer like no other had. Lock him up, let him starve, let him cry out and pound at the walls of his prison. Torture him. Send shocks into him ten times as strong as the ones Dib himself had experienced.
His enemy's countenance swirled around and around in his mind, jeering, laughing at him, hurting him, expression set in one of permanent cockiness.
At this, the flames of rage, which had only tickled him before, enveloped Dib. He took his hand away from his face, and grinned.
Yes, revenge was what he wanted. And once someone is infected with this fatal virus...
... there is no stopping them.
---
to be continued... (please review)
I think this is gonna be the second to the last chapter, not sure yet, it depends how I decide to end it (yes, I STILL haven't decided on an ending).
ARGH! I've forgotten the disclaimer for the whole thing! Ok, here it is (although I don't really see the point of disclamiers 'cause people aren't gonna come to ff.net and sue every single fanfiction writer): Invader Zim does not belong to me. The end.
I am a sneaky piggy. The dirty chicken has a seeeeeecret (actually, it's my secret. forget the dirty chicken): all the weird words that you can't understand that the Irkens have been saying are actual human words, but backwards. Maybe that clears things up... if you didn't figure it out already.
As usual, MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY (I'll shut up now) THANKS go to Amethyst Soul, my beta, and all those who reviewed. I am your humble servant! I will... er... exist to write the last chapter! You are pleased, yes? I COMMAND YOU TO BE PLEASED!
Someone now told me to give credit it 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings'. I should've picked a different subject. Well, this story is not about a girl getting raped, and I take a much more negative approach on the bird (I say it doesn't sing, 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings' is about it singing) so I think it's safe to say that it's nothing like 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings'. Ok? Got it? Good.
Dios, I write long Author's Notes.
---
"Damn, we're in real trouble now..."
Gir giggled and stepped closer to Dib. "Don't worry, Master."
Dib jerked in surprise. Gir hadn't said 'Dib Master'; it was 'Master' now...
"Ooo!" said Gir, interrupting Dib's speculations. "What's this thing do?!" He pushed the pastel yellow button in front of him. Dib's eyes widened upon further inspection of the object: it was circular, with a black symbol shaped like a gun printed on it.
"Look! It's so bright 'n' shiny!" Gir pointed to the walls, turning around and around to see the amazing spectacle.
All the buttons flashed their outward color, creating bright neon patterns around the room. Swirls, squares, triangles, circles, squiggles... virtually every design and shape imaginable formed in the flickering lights. As this took place, various beeps served as notes for a highly annoying tune that played over and over again, fitting the exact rotation of the shapes.
Dib looked down and rubbed his eyes in irritation at the sudden changes between the colors and pictures. Gir squealed happily and clapped his hands together. "They look like fireworks!"
BEEP.
Flash.
BEEP.
Flash.
BEEP.
Flash.
BEEP-
When the last note of the song struck, the room went pitch black.
The low buzz of silence was all that could be heard.
A series of words, through the light of the buttons, appeared in the darkness of the room on the wall opposite the door: SOLDIER, PREPARE TO REPORT FOR DUTY.
Dib had hardly enough time to open his mouth before the elevator shot upwards. His ears popped with the sudden change of velocity and he felt as if he were being pushed into the ground. Gir grinned, laid flat, and put his arms into the air, roller coaster style.
The world gave a sudden jolt and a loud bang! as they came to a stop. The double-doors slid into the walls to reveal a large group of Irken soldiers. Dib froze as the hundreds of alien stares bore into his skull.
"Hey, isn't that the guy the High Invader was after?" said one of them, breaking the tense air.
"Yeah, it is, isn't it?" agreed another. Simultaneously, their red eyes narrowed. It would have been comical, had the situation not been such a dire matter.
Dib hit the button that he hoped would close the door.
"Look! It's a monkey wrench!" said Gir. He hopped out and to the right, chasing after what looked like a large, blue spider.
"NO!" yelled Dib. "Stay here Gir!"
"Let's get da pale alien weirdo creature!" shouted one soldier.
"Lay eggs in his stomach!" said another.
"Crush his gargantuan head!"
"We can use him for target practice!"
The elevator doors released large amounts of purple smoke and began to shut in an agonizingly slow manner.
"Gir, come back!" Dib pleaded, squinting through the billowing smokescreen.
"Let's give him to the scientists to experiment on!"
"How about a nice round of 'torture session'?"
A black gloved hand reached through the small crack left in the doorway, cutting through the lavender fog, searching for its victim. Then, the door shut.
"ARGH!"
Dib heard the owner scream as the arm was clamped down upon. The hand spastically jerked this way and that, the fingers wriggling like worms on a hook. With a sickening crack, light green blood began to slowly ooze from the arm as the doors squeezed even harder.
Dib grimaced and turned to the other wall. "Escape pods, escape pods, where are the escape pods?!" he muttered to himself, searching the buttons for one that would lead him to a possible way home.
BAM! The metal was dented inwards as the soldiers on the outside tried to force their way in. The hand now limply hung, lifeless, though the same could not be said for its owner, who was still shrilly screaming on the other side.
"Argh, which one?!" He had narrowed it down to two choices, both next to each other. It was between these: a trianglar or circular aircraft?
"Let us in, you big-headed... er... thingiemabob!" a soldier yelled stupidly, voice muffled by the thick wall before him.
Dib held his breath, closed his eyes, and pushed a button.
The elevator went dark once more and began to whirr loudly.
He opened his eyes, only to see: he had missed both buttons entirely. Instead, the one that remained lit was three away from his primary choices. It held a symbol that resembled a human exclamation point.
The lights on the wall now read: PREPARE TO ENTER ESCAPE POD STATION.
Dib stared, open-mouthed, at the bright words of good fortune.
What luck he had...
---
The monkey wrench blue spider thing is funny! I keep almost touching it, then it runs away again! Hee hee! It looks kinda fuzzy too, like the cotton candy at the fair with the piggies and the goats!
Doo dee doo dee doo...
Hey, where did Master go? He was in the lighty flashy room thing with me, and now he's gone. After the monkey wrench thing came, I heard him calling my name. Was I supposed to go to him? Was I? Did he want me to go with him?
I know he wanted me... otherwise he wouldn'tve called me, right? Old Master didn't call for me when he left, but he's gone too. Master wants me, I know it! He called my name! HE CALLED MY NAME!
Master wants me... right? Yeah. Think I'm sure.
... alone again.
This time... alone 'cause it was my fault.
---
"SOLDIER SEB!"
The sharp crack of a whip reverberated across the room.
Seb fell to his knees, hands placed flat on the ground, arms shaking to support his upper body. His hook-like antennae quivered and his magenta eyes brimmed with tears as he looked up to the face of his delieverer of pain. Zim's fiery eyes glared back. Seb flinched and looked to the floor once more.
Thousands of other Irkens stood, backs straight, eyes focused straight across the room. Their arms were at their sides, slightly crooked at the elbow, and their hands were balled into tight fists. Each's stance was a replica of the one beside it, as if they were all made from the same mold. The only differences were slight: various head shapes and shades of red for eyes. All their facial expressions were identical: determined and set with firm gravity.
"Soldier Seb, what did I tell you?" Zim said, his voice in a weirdly misplaced, calm tone.
Seb began to draw circles with his fingertip onto the floor. "Y-you s-said-" he stuttered. "Y-you s-said to, um, stand straight with my head up high, Sir?"
"Is that a question or a statement?"
"Statement, Sir?"
CRACK! The whip snapped upon Seb's back again. He gave a pitiful wail of pain.
"Fool!" Zim hissed. "Can you not answer a simple question?"
"Y-yes, Sir?"
CRACK!
"Y-yes, Sir."
Zim smiled. "Ah, now we have some slight progress." He began to pace back and forth in front of Seb, right hand with the whip behind his back, left hand scratching his chin in thought. "Although, for you, I believe it is a huge progress. Gargantuan. Probably the most recognizable thing you will ever do in your life: answering as a statement and not as a question." He sneered. "One as low as yourself cannot understand one of my position. This is true, yes?"
"Yes, Sir?"
CRACK!
"ARGH! I mean: yes, Sir."
"That's better."
CRACK!
Seb screamed and put a hand to his back, trying to calm the stinging opening the whip had left on his back. The wound could be seen, even through his hand was attempting cover it. The muscles contracted, spewing more blood into the air. Neon green flesh was decorated with turquoise veins.
Zim turned to face the rest of the soldiers, making his voice loud enough to project across the room. "Do you see this weakling?! He is an example of who you should not be! Answering everything in a question is equal to questioning my authority! And questioning my authority is not an option while I'm still in power!"
CRACK!
"ARGGGH!"
Seb lay on the ground. Light green blood, colored the same as the gaping hole in his back, began to seep through his uniform.
"This is the one-winged bee of our efficient hive!"
CRACK!
"This is the offspring of a weak mother!"
CRACK!
"This is a horrible excuse for a sentinent being!"
CRACK!
"This is who you don't want to be!"
CRACK!
"This is who you must avoid!"
CRACK!
"This is who you must never become!"
CRACK!
"Stop! STOP!" Seb pleaded.
Zim halted, his hand in mid-swing; the whip dangling back and forth in the air. He smiled maliciously. "What did you say? I'm not sure I heard you quite right."
Seb quivered and looked at his fellow soldiers for help. Getting no reaction, he sat up, looked at his gloves and whispered. "Stop, Sir?"
CRACK!
"FOOL! Did I not say earlier to answer as a statement?! Try again!"
"S- stop, Sir?"
CRACK!
"Imbecile! 'Stop?' is a question! Are you QUESTIONING me? Such a thing is treason!"
CRACK!
"ARGH!"
CRACK!
"NO!"
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
"STOP!"
With these words, Seb collapsed from his sitting position to his knees again, panting and staring at the small imperfections in the metal floor. He coughed, and bright green blood came, splattering underneath him. He choked on it, coughing even more to get the burning liquid out of his throat.
Zim towered above Seb, twice his height, arms crossed victoriously. He bent down and whispered in Seb's ear. "That's better. Maybe, just maybe, next time you'll think to get it right. No one questions the High Invader... if they wish to live."
He walked down the row of soldiers. Frozen in their positions, none moved as he passed.
Seb stood up feebly, knees shaking. His uniform was wet and stained; his boots were dotted with green.
Zim's figure grew smaller and smaller as he walked to the exit.
Seb wiped his face with the back of his glove. He stared at it, then licked it, running his tongue along the smooth leather surface, cleaning every crevice. He stopped, savoring the metallic taste of his own blood, licking his teeth, then grinning. "One day, I will taste your blood...," Seb gave an exaggerated bow to Zim's retreating form. " ...o' High Invader."
---
The lights on the wall now read: PREPARE TO ENTER ESCAPE POD STATION.
Dib stared, openmouthed, at the bright words of good fortune.
He had missed both buttons of choice and had ended up pushing the right one! Wiping his forehead, he collapsed against the door in relief as the elevator began to slowly descend, contrary to the fast ascent he and Gir had made earlier. Reminded of this, he thought of the little robot.
Gir was gone now... there was nothing he could do. Maybe, if he was lucky, Gir would find a new, even better, Master than he. One who wouldn't leave him on a ship of the enemy...
Dib shook his head. No, it wasn't his fault. He was regressing back into the state of depression that had caused him to run from his home the night before. Always blaming everything on himself... but who else did he have to blame anyway? Zim couldn't be the excuse anymore...
"APPROACHING ESCAPE POD STATION." said the mechanical voice of the elevator. Dib smiled, throwing his dark thoughts aside. This time, he would win. He would get Gir back. Once he had captured Zim, he would find Gir and protect humanity from the alien threat!
The old fire came back into his eyes, finally re-ignited after being killed by the dust of the attack on the Earth three years ago. That would lead to Zim's downfall: the power of his will and the strength of his decisions! Dib was sure of it!
In his now optimistic state, a plan rushed into his head. He would go back home in an escape pod. He would capture Zim. And after that... well, he would worry about 'after that' when it came.
The doors slid open. Dib cautiously peeked out from behind them and, seeing no one in the room, he snuck out and hid behind a large wheel, surveying his surroundings. No guards appeared to be on duty: the whole hangar was empty! He couldn't believe his luck once more. Crawling out from behind the wheel, Dib looked out the large window and saw his home planet, sitting there in its great beauty and radiance. He stared at it with a glazed look in his eyes. This was what he had been fighting for, the very thing which fueled his existence, his will to live. He wouldn't let it go easily.
The scythe-haired boy climbed into the gray aircraft closest to him and started the engine. He put on a helmet and adjusted the strap beneath his chin, taking a deep breath to calm his jittery nerves.
As he put his shaking hands on the steering wheel, he whispered reassuringly to himself. "I'm coming home."
---
"WHY HASN'T HE REPORTED IN YET?!" yelled Purple, pacing back and forth in front of the transmission screen, brow furrowed in a combination of exasperation and agitation.
"Don't worry," assured Red, sprawled out, belly down, on a large orange couch, reading a magazine entitled 'EDUN IRKENS!'. He put his claws to a plate of nachos, took one, and began to chew on it contentedly.
" 'Don't worry'?!" Purple repeated in shock. " 'DON'T WORRY'?!?! How can you even say that?! Our entire FUTURE as leaders of the Irken race depend on one weak soldier and you say 'Don't worry'?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!"
Red chuckled. "Heh, you're cute when you're all aggravated like that."
Purple's mouth dropped open, struck speechless. Red continued reading his magazine.
"You... you... wha-" Purple was interrupted by the computer.
"Incoming transmission from warship JV-737."
"Many a good cycle, my Tallests. Soldier Seb of the warship JV-737 reporting, Sirs."
Purple turned to face the screen, face contorted in fury. "YOU! Where were you?!"
Seb winced and rubbed his wounded back, which the Tallests couldn't see from their point of view. "I'd rather not speak of it, Sirs."
Red stopped reading, then sat up. "Alright, alright. We 'won't speak of it'. Just tell us what's going on."
"I have a team ready, Sirs. We will catch the High Invader unaware, Sirs. It will happen soon, Sirs. It will not be long for you to wait, Sirs. It will not be difficult, Sirs. My helpers are most reliable, Sirs. Most reliable. If you give me permission to run the ship after the High Invader is disposed of, Sirs, I can bring you the fleet back, Sirs. I will try-"
Seb cut himself short as Red held up a single claw. "Need I tell you to 'shut up', or can you do it yourself?"
Seb nodded. "Yes, Sir. I am quite capable of doing it myself, Sir."
"Good." Red grabbed another cheese drowned nacho.
"We grant you control over the crew of the JV-737, ship of the High Invader," said Purple. Seb's face lit up.
"BUT!" the Tallest added. "Only until you can reach Militaria, do you understand?"
Seb nodded, eyes bright with happiness. "Oh, yes Sirs! I am most excited, Sirs! Most excited! You will be most pleased with me, Sirs! Most pleased! You will be the highest powers very soon, Sirs! You can count on me, Sirs! I will work to the best of my ability, Sirs! I am your most humble servant, Sirs! Most humble! I-"
Red held a claw up, and Seb shut his mouth quickly.
"You are dismissed, Soldier." said Purple, rubbing his temples to fight off an oncoming headache.
Seb saluted, hitting his hand to his forehead with a little too much gusto. He rubbed the area where he had hurt himself. "Ow... I mean: Yes Sirs! This is Soldier Seb, signing off!"
The screen flickered, went black, then retracted into a storage area on the wall. Purple slumped onto the couch next to Red. "I feel a huge migrane creeping up on me...," he groaned, massaging his temples once more.
"Why'd you let Seb be in charge?!" Red asked, head cocked in questioning.
"Simple," Purple began to explain, putting a hand on his forehead and closing his eyes. "Number one: there's really no one else to be in charge 'til they get back. Number two: what harm can an Irken like him do?"
Red grinned. "Good point: he's a total pushover."
Purple sighed. "Yeah, that's about right."
There was a pause in which the maid could be heard vacumming the outside corridor.
Red reached over and began to massage Purple's antennae. They pricked, then relaxed in pleasure. "Does that help the headache?"
His mouth curved upwards. "Yeah, a little."
"You're cute when you smile like that."
Purple's eyes snapped open. "WHAT?!"
"You heard what I said." Red advanced upon his fellow Tallest. Purple jumped off the couch, eyes wide.
"Heh, you cannot resist!" Red chuckled.
"No, no, NO!"
"YES!"
"No, leave me alone!"
"Come here, Purple, I NEED to DO something with you...,"
"ARGH! I won't! GET AWAY!"
"C'mon, only a few times couldn't hurt...,"
"I wont submit to you! You can't get me to do that... that... horrible thing!"
"Eh heh heh. You know you want to."
"No! I despise doing that! You always force me to! You... forcer-kind-of-person!"
"Aw, you know you like it! Just come do this one little thing... it wont take long!"
"NO! I REFUSE TO DO THAT WITH YOU! NO! Maybe with someone else, but not with you!"
"YES! You will do it! There is no refusing the power of-" Red paused and grinned devillishly.
"-VIDEO GAMES!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
---
Zim watched the small escape pod make its way towards Earth through his large window. He put his palms against each other, then entwined his fingers, raising his hands up to his chin. So Dib had escaped.
Maybe Zim had underestimated him...
"Sir!" a tall, tough-looking, Irken burst in. "We have just recieved word from the weapons department that your alien has escaped from the torture chamber! Also, a vehicle has been reported missing from the Escape Pod Station!"
"Fool," Zim hissed, putting his arms on the rests of his chair. "Do you think I am blind?! Look out the window!"
The muscle-bound soldier did so, and then turned a very pale shade of green. "Sir, I-"
"SILENCE!" Zim commanded. "Leave! Leave at once!"
The commandee scrambled out of the room as fast as his bulging legs would carry him.
Zim glared at Dib's vehicle, which was now preparing to land. "How did you escape?" he muttered. "How did you get out...?" He shook his head and sank into a deep mode of contemplation.
"Hello, High Invader." Zim's thoughts were interrupted once again by another intruder. He gave a small noise of exasperation and turned from the window. "What do you want?!" His eyes widened, then narrowed, as he saw the figures before him. "Seb."
Seb's grin spread from antenna to antenna. He was flanked by a dozen burly soldiers, each armed with several laser guns. "Yes, it's me," he stated, smile growing wider with each word. "Aw, are you scared, poor little Zimmy? Are you scared that the 'pitiful', 'little' Seb is going to be your bringer of doom?"
Zim blinked, then gave a mocking laugh. "No, no, I'm not really scared. Ok, I admit that you did surprise me a bit. But no one could actually BE as stupid and weak as you were acting. I suppose I should have been on guard... ah, a careless mistake on my part. I can't believe I let myself be so naive...,"
Seb's eyes reduced to slits. He took a sharp, barbed, whip from one of his minions. "Why are you just waving me off as if I were some annoying, buzzing, little fly? I am no fly. You cannot simply brush me away. I am much harder to get rid of than that." With this, Seb lashed out at Zim's face. Zim cried out in pain and fell from his chair as the sharp thorns of the whips hit their marks. Deep cuts had shredded Zim's uniform and pierced the skin; a long jagged gash ran from his chin to directly below his left eye. Thick, neon green blood began to ooze out in generous amounts. He put a hand to the wound in attempt to stop the bloodflow, staring at the ground, wide-eyed in shock.
Seb laughed. "Ha! Now you'll have a scar just where you gave one to that 'human' creature! How ironic..."
"Do you know what I think is ironic?" Zim said quietly. "I think it's ironic that I actually miss you speaking in questions with 'Sir' at the end every single time... when I used to think it was intolerably annoying."
Seb tightened his grip on the whip, bringing it back in contact with his enemy over and over again. Zim's body was jerked around by the weapon as if he were a vulnerable doll clenched in a running child's filthy hand.
Seb stopped, advanced, and bent down beside Zim. "I heard you speaking to your alien. You talked about how he never had to take the pain he gave you..." Seb wrenched Zim's hand away from his face and grabbed his head, forcing Zim to face him. "You talked about how 'all lifeforms deserve to feel what they dish out', or something along those lines." Seb brought his enemy's face even closer to his own and continued. "You hypocrite," he whispered angrily. "The way you put it... that means that you should be whipped until you cough up blood too, yes?"
He stopped talking as Zim shot him a glare.
Seb's followers stood perfectly still, replicas of each other in, not only their expressions, but in their build and features as well.
"That reminds me..." Seb said, looking at his soldiers. He turned back and put his tounge to Zim's cheek, still holding his head firmly in his grasp, then licked the blood off hungrily. He worked it into the deep laceration he had inflicted, cleaning it of the blood, running it along the exposed flesh and over the veins. Zim winced as Seb's violating tounge touched his open face muscles. He pushed him away with all his strength.
Seb merely licked his lips, stood up, and smiled. "Ah, that's much better. Much better. You see, after you whipped me earlier today, I made myself a little promise: to taste your blood, instead of mine. I'd say I've fulfilled that promise, don't you think so?" he ran his tounge over his lips again, his smile turning into a wide grin. "The taste of revenge is not sweet, as is commonly thought. It is actually a taste... quite metallic. You'll have to believe me, because I don't think you'll ever experience that taste; that of revenge. Not against me anyhow."
Zim got slowly to his feet, knees and arms shaking.
"You'll never win," Zim retalliated, almost spitting with rage. "As clichéd as it may sound, like some Earthling 'movie', you won't. You only have your measly twelve soldiers. I have the rest. How can you even think you have a chance?!"
"Ha!" Seb snorted. "You think this it the extent of my power! Do you think I am stupid? Headstrong?! You underestimate me then. There are many who hate you, despise even. They would sooner join me. Also: I have the Almighty Tallests' consent to take control of this fleet."
Zim's mouth dropped open, and his anger vanished. "H- how in the universe did you manage that?"
Seb grinned. "Bad choice of last words, Sir. SHOOT HIM!"
The flash of the laser beams filled the room with a brilliant shade of pink, temporarily blinding all who occupied it. This pink turned to red, blue, purple, then black. An ear-splitting whine emitted from the combined weapons, going up and down in tone, as a tea kettle would on the stove.
After a few moments of this chaos, Seb took his hand away from his eyes to see his enemy, curled up and unconscious on the cold metal floor, eyes shut tightly. Blood trickled out from his slightly open mouth.
"Send a transport down to Earth, quickly!" Seb ordered, a plan forming in his mind. "Send it down with a soldier for the High Invader's little Earthanoid friend to find him... I think the human would be so generous as to 'take care' of little Zim for us, yes? Maybe he can play with Zim's mind. Or what's left of it anyway." He turned to look out the window, and smiled. "If he doesn't know he's doing us the favor, that is."
---
The escape pod's engine spluttered in annoyance. It moved jerkily forward as Dib took his hand on and off a pad which seemed to be the accelarator. His head snapped back and forth with the sudden bursts of speed and abrupt stops. So far he had only gone about half of the way towards Earth from the main ship, traveling in this slow manner. His teeth rattled in his head as he spoke. "S-s-stupid a-a-alien t-t-transport-s-s!"
The entire ship bounced as Dib headed toward the gray, abandoned building which he had sheltered himself under only a few hours before. He fought the urge to retch all over himself.
"O-o-o-h g-g-od, d-d-don't l-l-et m-me d-die, I s-still h-h-have t-to w-win o-o-over Z-z-zim!"
He bent over to throw up on the floor of the aircraft and, in doing so, rested his hand on the accelerator.
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Dib screamed in surprise. He was pushed against the back of the seat just before he could relieve his stomach of its contents and too petrified to realize that he should've taken his hand off of the accelerator. The ship sped ahead quickly, scattering fragments of rock as it went.
"YEARGH!" he exclaimed. The Earth was drawing nearer and nearer at a rapid pace, too rapid for Dib.
The browns, greens, blues, and whites of the world filled Dib's entire line of vision, and the continent of North America was just visible under the heavy rain clouds that hung above it.
Seeing this, Dib regained his senses enough to start steering the aircraft with the joystick beside him, although why he did not take his hand off the accelerator while doing this, cannot be said.
The transport raced towards the ground at an amazing speed, pummeling birds out of the air and splattering insects against the windshield.
Dib's eyes widened as a large, run-down building came into view. A mechanical voice emitted from the speakers of the small ship: "Five seconds to impact." it stated in monotone.
"Four."
Dib ducked under the dashboard.
"Three."
The whirring engines grew louder.
"Two."
Dib clenched his eyes shut.
"One..."
BOOM! The entire world seemed to shake as the collision occured. The ship was wedged tightly into the wall, half inside, half out. Pieces of concrete the size of small asteroids fell from the ceiling, leaving naked wires from where they came.
Pushing aside the debris, Dib emerged from the heap, coughing the dust out of his lungs. He checked himself over for injuries, running his hands along his legs, midsection, arms, then face. He stopped at his left cheek. The wound Zim had made, which had just begun to heal, was now freshly opened. In vain, he pressed his hand against it in attempt to stop the stinging. For, as you see, it was 'in vain' because the stinging was not physical, but mental. It wasn't a stinging of betrayal, slow and bovine. It wasn't that of loss, hitting in small attacks and coming back again. It wasn't even that of shock, a low buzz in the back of your head. This stinging was loud and reverbarant, vibrating in the very walls of Dib's mind. It bounced back and forth, touching every crevice of the brain, then moving down to the rest of his body, spreading its influence and taking over, like some horrible, fast-acting, form of cancer. It was a disease which conquered the entire being. A bacteria which infested so many, and led them to their dooms. The stinging, the buzzing, the infectuous feeling of revenge.
Destroy Zim, the being which made his life so miserable. Annihilate him. Rip at his body until the flesh was gone, leaving muscle and organs for decay to eat away at until only the sun-bleached, grinning skull remained with the rest of the age yellowed bones.
But before the kill... suffering. It was not optional. Make him suffer like no other had. Lock him up, let him starve, let him cry out and pound at the walls of his prison. Torture him. Send shocks into him ten times as strong as the ones Dib himself had experienced.
His enemy's countenance swirled around and around in his mind, jeering, laughing at him, hurting him, expression set in one of permanent cockiness.
At this, the flames of rage, which had only tickled him before, enveloped Dib. He took his hand away from his face, and grinned.
Yes, revenge was what he wanted. And once someone is infected with this fatal virus...
... there is no stopping them.
---
to be continued... (please review)