AN: Yes, I have absolutely no idea where this fic is going. So, until more
inspiration strikes, I shall give you an Interlude! These Interludes are
merely strange dreams or visions the characters have. Onto the first one!
The first thing I am aware of is the screams.
Screams that were created by human voices, but were so desperate and anguished that it sounded like they came from the mouths of demons. They don't even have true voices, their real ones long ago faded by endless shrieks.
I am not screaming. I just sit still in the freezing cold, hugging myself tightly in a futile attempt to ward off such cold. It wasn't the chill of an artic front or even the below-zero temperatures of the poles. No, this was absolute zero, the cold of outer space far away form stars or other warmth-giving bodies.
This is Hell.
I always felt like laughing at other people's descriptions of "downstairs". Descriptions of searing heat and lava and little half-goat monstrosities that wave around pitchforks, waiting to stick you with them. The description the TV evangelist gives you with dire threats that if you don't do such and such and donate your good money, then you'll go straight down there.
Quite frankly, I would gladly go there instead of be here.
The cold has long ago frozen my body beyond living terms. I shouldn't be conscious. Hell, I shouldn't be alive. But I sit here, with a heartbeat that echoes in my ears above the voiceless screams and shivering desperately against the cold that has already made me a living ice sculpture.
I want someone beside me.
Even if it is one of those soulless desperate wretches that stare with unseeing eyes, who have had their essences ripped from them and all their feelings drained to nothingness. At least I wouldn't be alone.
But most of all, I want her by my side.
Her light would pierce the never-ending darkness and warm my frozen soul. She would make everything better again. I would pay anything just to be by her side for a few moments. I would cherish those moments forever, even if I ended up back here, I would still have the memories of her and those would never be taken away from me. They would be the candle I would hold up to this darkness, this noir, which would be weak and sputtering but the light would never go out.
But…
But she isn't here. I'm stuck in this place with screams woven of silence and a cold so deep it is the very depth of darkness itself.
I am stuck here, with others who can't qualify as souls anymore, and I can't escape. I can only remember how the sun felt on my skin and on the grass beneath my feet. I can only remember how it felt to have the wind blow through my hair and the flowers. The things on Earth that I always took for granted, those precious tiny simple things that are my only hope in this.
I want someone beside me.
I want her beside me.
Flower and wind, sunshine and grass, she is all those things. She is my hope.
But she isn't here.
I hate this.
~TBC~
AN: …………………………..Gah.
The first thing I am aware of is the screams.
Screams that were created by human voices, but were so desperate and anguished that it sounded like they came from the mouths of demons. They don't even have true voices, their real ones long ago faded by endless shrieks.
I am not screaming. I just sit still in the freezing cold, hugging myself tightly in a futile attempt to ward off such cold. It wasn't the chill of an artic front or even the below-zero temperatures of the poles. No, this was absolute zero, the cold of outer space far away form stars or other warmth-giving bodies.
This is Hell.
I always felt like laughing at other people's descriptions of "downstairs". Descriptions of searing heat and lava and little half-goat monstrosities that wave around pitchforks, waiting to stick you with them. The description the TV evangelist gives you with dire threats that if you don't do such and such and donate your good money, then you'll go straight down there.
Quite frankly, I would gladly go there instead of be here.
The cold has long ago frozen my body beyond living terms. I shouldn't be conscious. Hell, I shouldn't be alive. But I sit here, with a heartbeat that echoes in my ears above the voiceless screams and shivering desperately against the cold that has already made me a living ice sculpture.
I want someone beside me.
Even if it is one of those soulless desperate wretches that stare with unseeing eyes, who have had their essences ripped from them and all their feelings drained to nothingness. At least I wouldn't be alone.
But most of all, I want her by my side.
Her light would pierce the never-ending darkness and warm my frozen soul. She would make everything better again. I would pay anything just to be by her side for a few moments. I would cherish those moments forever, even if I ended up back here, I would still have the memories of her and those would never be taken away from me. They would be the candle I would hold up to this darkness, this noir, which would be weak and sputtering but the light would never go out.
But…
But she isn't here. I'm stuck in this place with screams woven of silence and a cold so deep it is the very depth of darkness itself.
I am stuck here, with others who can't qualify as souls anymore, and I can't escape. I can only remember how the sun felt on my skin and on the grass beneath my feet. I can only remember how it felt to have the wind blow through my hair and the flowers. The things on Earth that I always took for granted, those precious tiny simple things that are my only hope in this.
I want someone beside me.
I want her beside me.
Flower and wind, sunshine and grass, she is all those things. She is my hope.
But she isn't here.
I hate this.
~TBC~
AN: …………………………..Gah.