Angel Island was heading towards some rain squalls. Dawn on the island was usually spectacular, but today the rain clouds blocked the sun and draped a veil of darkness onto the island as a whole.
Rouge was ready. She abandoned the notion of hunting for treasure. Today she would have nothing to do with it; there would be time for that later. Today, her sole and defining purpose was to break Knuckles to her will.
The predator gleam was in her eyes as she prepared herself. Her eyes shone with it, brilliant in the fire of her spirit. Knuckles would be her toughest target ever; it would take all her strength to do it. But the feelings she would reap after it was done… yes, she was ready and willing. She knew his weakness, and she would use it.
She got out of her tent and scanned the area for Knuckles. She was already planning the lines and attacks she would use. Ah! There he was. He was pacing around, apparently without point. He broke into a series of exercises and jumps, then just as quickly resumed pacing.
'He really is weird,' Rouge thought. She smiled to herself. 'And when I'm done with him, he'll wish he hadn't gotten up this morning.'
"Knuckles!" she called just as he was entering a hand-stand. To her satisfaction, he tumbled, but he recovered so gracefully she couldn't be sure it wasn't intentional.
"You're up early," he said, "considering how late you were up last night."
She shook her head. "Are you kidding? When I'm on a job, I can get by on three hours per night or less. As far as I'm concerned, this was sleeping in."
He looked at her eyes; she had to fight to suppress her squirm. "Your eyes aren't bloodshot. If you slept that little, I'd expect some red."
"It's something that's easily managed. Admit it, you just said that so you could stare at my eyes."
"I won't admit it," he said, but he said it in such a way that Rouge heard the underlying message. "I won't admit it, but that was a reason."
She decided to fire a test shot. "It's not something you get to do often, is it?" she asked innocently.
He flinched.
'I've got you!' she thought. From here on out, it would just be a matter of how effectively she could take advantage of his weakness.
"I'm not usually worried about someone's eyes," he said, looking away hurriedly. "When someone comes here, their motives matter more to me than their eyes."
"Then again, that doesn't happen often either, right?"
He smiled, but she could feel the underlying pain. "I must have quite a reputation," he joked.
"Indeed. Who would want to come here?"
He turned on her. "You would," he said angrily. He could tell she was baiting him now, and he didn't like it.
She laughed cruelly. "I came here in spite of you, not because of you."
He crossed his arms and faced away, giving a hmph as he did. He was so transparent before Rouge's eyes that she might as well have been seeing with x-rays. He was feeling it now.
Here was another possible attack. It was a gamble, but the potential was huge. She would go for it. She adopted a guise of innocence. "So, how's Sonic?"
"What do you mean?" he said gruffly.
"Well, I haven't seen him since after the victory party. I assume he'd be in contact with you. How is he?"
The gamble paid off. Knuckles shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. "He—he's only come by here once since then."
"Oh," she said, still feigning innocence. "When was that?"
"About two months ago," he said. His voice was beginning to fade.
"I'm surprised," she said. "I thought that he would be back here more often. I mean, the two of you are friends, right? Given how many times you've helped him out, I would think you'd matter more to him."
Knuckles' face wrinkled into a frown, which got deeper as she continued to talk. She was scoring full hits, now; she was having more and more affect on him.
She shrugged. "I guess he didn't like you either, or he'd visit you more."
"He did save the world again," he said, weakly. "And he was shaken up by Shadow's death. He's a busy hedgehog, he's got a lot to do."
"For the past three months?" Rouge said skeptically. "You're making excuses for him. I wonder why. He certainly doesn't care for you."
"I don't like where this conversation is going," he said, clearly disturbed.
"I know why," she said. She abandoned all pretense of innocence. "You don't want to face an ugly truth."
"And what ugly truth is that?"
"That you're just using me!" she said.
He rocked back on his heels. "What?"
He was vulnerable. She pressed her advantage with a killer's ferocity. "You don't care who I am or even what I am. You just care that there's someone here who can tolerate you. You're so intolerably lonely that you're desperate for anyone's companionship."
The words smashed into him. His eyes widened, and he trembled. It was getting much harder for Rouge to speak; she pressed on quickly, both to follow up on Knuckles' weakness and to keep herself engaged.
"And not even companionship! It doesn't have to be someone who likes you; even someone who shows you no respect, no courtesy, she'll do because she's someone and she's here! Your lack of confidence keeps you from saying this, which makes you even more pathetic!"
"I'm not listening," he said, voice trembling.
"What a lie! You're saying that because you don't want to hear it!"
"I'm not listening!" he screamed, clamping his hands over his ears and falling to the ground.
"You're afraid of the truth, that's the problem! Your inherent loneliness causes you pain, pain so great you can't stand it, so you create elaborate justifications and reasons why you should be alone! You hide your own loneliness from yourself like the worst of cowards!"
"Stop!" he shouted at her, his body writhing.
"You're using me to sate your loneliness!" She was trying to drive it home by repeating 'lonely' as often as possible. "I've never given you anything but grief, but you consider that better than before! You are sick, Knuckles!"
"Stop!"
"You never knew your parents, you never had any friends, you've always been alone! From the time you were born, you've been starved for attention and appreciation! You have no connections, and even now the people you most want to see again view you as a waste of their time!"
"Stop."
He'd mostly stopped jerking at this point. He'd curled up in a fetal position, trying to hide himself from her rage. His voice had lost all its energy, even its desperation; it was the cry of someone who knew the onslaught wouldn't cease.
"That's why you're so gullible! You were so happy to see someone that when Eggman came you ate out of his hand! Your loneliness blinded you to the real threat, and when you realized this, you were alone again!"
"Stop."
It wasn't working! Rouge had hurt him to the point that he couldn't even respond effectively. It was like punching a pillow. Wherever she hit him, she left a mark, but he didn't respond back. Unlike a pillow, however, he felt pain.
And somehow, so did she!
"It's because they all hate you," she said. "I bet your mother said, 'Oh, I hate this baby' and left you on purpose! They didn't want to know who or what you were—a pathetic weakling and coward who can't handle being alone!"
It was almost impossible to speak to him now. A force inside her was crying out, wailing for her to stop. She had passed all limits of cruelty, let alone decency, and was pulling him apart from the inside.
And still she felt nothing!
No content-tingle, no thrill at the conquest, not even the modest satisfaction that she'd beat him verbally! Instead it was actually harming her the further she went!
'What's wrong?! Why don't I feel something?!'
'Have I not gone far enough?'
That was her one hope, so still she pressed on despite the pain she was inflicting on both of them. "Your loneliness makes you think you need to be alone, so you reject everyone! But that intensifies your loneliness! Someday you'll die because of it, you'll be so depressed you'll commit suicide, and then you'll DIE alone! You'll die of loneliness alone!"
Nothing! Nothing, nothing, nothing!
Nothing but pain!
As she spat out the final few words, she actually began crying. She couldn't believe it; she brought a hand to her face—yes, it was an actual tear. She hadn't cried since her birth, but now…
'I don't understand! I feel nothing! Nothing but pain! I can't even tell whose pain it is!'
"You'll die alone because you're a stupid person and I hate you!" she screeched like a little school girl, reduced in her abilities to think and act by the mind-numbing pain.
She dropped to her knees, spent, unable to think, sobbing quietly.
Knuckles' head lolled to the side. It was so lifeless a motion that for a moment Rouge thought he was dead, that her words had come true.
He had almost no energy, and it was only because of her bat ears that she heard it at all. He spoke exactly three words to her.
"You're lonely too."
If her anatomy had reacted how she felt, her chest would have erupted and her heart shattered. She shuddered violently, her eyes widening until they nearly popped out, her muscles spasming and tightening, her lungs expanding to capacity.
Then she screamed.
And she ran.
Stumbled over Knuckles.
Scrambled.
Fell up, tripping, got to her feet.
Ran.
Ran.
Ran.
Bounced off trees.
Plowed through bushes.
Branches tore at her, scraping at her.
She was running without vision; sight didn't matter, and she was blinded by her pain.
Stumbled again.
Sprawled out on the ground.
Thrashed.
Tore about.
Screamed, screamed, screamed.
Her mind was torturing her. She ripped at it with her hands, trying to attack the source of the pain that was overwhelming her.
But her brain wouldn't stop working, and her skull deflected her strikes.
Eventually the realities of biology caught her. She collapsed, exhausted, lungs heaving, tears pouring from her eyes.
She couldn't stop thinking about the three words he'd cursed her with. But in reality, those three words stood for the entire litany of toxic curses that she'd poured upon Knuckles.
For everything she'd said to him applied to her, as well.
Knuckles had told her that, and the words were ripping her apart just as they'd done to him.
The rain clouds opened upon her, pelting her, thousands of little knives piercing her depleted and exhausted body, ringing in her mind, driving her mad.
And, more than anything, obscuring her tears, so she couldn't even feel her pain righteously.
She lay there, exposing herself to the elements, for there was nothing worse that they could do than she'd done to herself.
TO BE CONTINUED…