Little Child Lost
Author's Note: This randomly occurred to me after seeing the movie. I felt so bad for Dennis. Anyway, this story is a third person focusing on Arthur's reactions and thoughts to the poor psychic's death.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Arthur banged his fists fruitlessly against the glass protecting him from the oncoming specters. The young man on the other side ignored him, however, tossing taunts at a vengeful ghost that wanting nothing more but to see the psychic dead.
Dennis was set to do a truly brave thing, saving Arthur so that the math teacher and his family would be okay. But it didn't seem right, not in the least. Dennis couldn't have been more than 25 years old, and a painful time it must have been. The image of the man's seizure at the contact of another person, the pain caused by other people's memories flitted through Arthur's mind. He hadn't even been willing to trust this boy, and now he was going to die so that Arthur could live.
And a boy was exactly what Dennis was. He had seen it a few times over the evening. The way that any course of action had set him to protesting, or looking to Arthur for guidance had been actions reminiscent of his son, or the child-like innocent loneliness that was constantly evident in his eyes were not the normal state of an adult. Even the mixed reaction of fear and defiance towards the ghosts were very young. It just wasn't right.
He continued to try to free himself and do something to aid Dennis as the young man ducked out of the way of the clumsy first swings of the mallet. Despite the fact that Dennis was finally doing something he felt he could be proud about, the terror was evident in his already blood-smeared face. Then came the blow that he couldn't dodge, connecting solidly with Dennis' arm with a crack that Arthur felt more than heard.
The boy fell to his knees with a cry that tore at Arthur's heart. This man had trusted him, despite his lack of reciprocated trust. Hell, Arthur had punched the guy, and Dennis had gotten up to argue an alternative to a deadly plan, and suggest that they try once more to find the children. He had tried to get Arthur and his family out of the building, both before and after the series of horrible circumstances. There had to be something Arthur could do! Even if it was just a way of letting this lonely person know that someone cared about what happened to him.
Deep within the gears of the machine-house, they heard the sound of the last door opening. The Jugger-naught had been released. Dennis looked up at its oncoming form with frightened eyes, before another blow of the mallet slammed into his back.
Arthur cried out again, wishing there was something -anything!- he could do, but it was useless. Tears fell unheeded down his cheeks and Dennis was slammed against the metal in the wall, blood dripping from his face as the hemorrhaging became apparent. The boy was dying. As his body finally just snapped from the abuse it received, Dennis caught Arthur's gaze with his eyes. Behind the pain was a feeling of redemption, hope and love that surprised the math teacher. Then, there was more blood, and the boy was gone into the dark void of an impermanent oblivion.
His vision clouded over with tears as he saw the broken body on the floor and witnessed the two ghost's violent sense of glee over the boy's death. The sounds of chanting grew loud in the stillness, causing the remaining ghosts to head to its source, but Arthur's gaze remained on that bloodied form.
The light from his wife's apparition drew Arthur from his dull trance, and he turned to stare at her. It was true, she had been trapped here as well. The thought caused more tears to roll down his cheeks. Yet, his dead wife merely smiled sadly at him. How could she smile? He hadn't been able to save her! Either from death, or from this cold imprisonment following it. Didn't God grant those who deserved it reprieve from the sorrows of their lives?
Then she was gone as well, and Arthur succumbed to tears. He had failed everyone that had needed him so far. He couldn't fail again, it wasn't right that he stand by and let anyone else die, especially not his own children. The determination gave him much needed strength.
Casting one final glance at Dennis' body, Arthur prayed that the boy had been released from the pain that had haunted his life. And he pushed down the glass fortress to go save his family.
*
Yeah, that sucked. But I just felt so bad for Dennis, and Arthur seemed like a mostly nice guy... The story just kinda forced its way out. Review?
Author's Note: This randomly occurred to me after seeing the movie. I felt so bad for Dennis. Anyway, this story is a third person focusing on Arthur's reactions and thoughts to the poor psychic's death.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Arthur banged his fists fruitlessly against the glass protecting him from the oncoming specters. The young man on the other side ignored him, however, tossing taunts at a vengeful ghost that wanting nothing more but to see the psychic dead.
Dennis was set to do a truly brave thing, saving Arthur so that the math teacher and his family would be okay. But it didn't seem right, not in the least. Dennis couldn't have been more than 25 years old, and a painful time it must have been. The image of the man's seizure at the contact of another person, the pain caused by other people's memories flitted through Arthur's mind. He hadn't even been willing to trust this boy, and now he was going to die so that Arthur could live.
And a boy was exactly what Dennis was. He had seen it a few times over the evening. The way that any course of action had set him to protesting, or looking to Arthur for guidance had been actions reminiscent of his son, or the child-like innocent loneliness that was constantly evident in his eyes were not the normal state of an adult. Even the mixed reaction of fear and defiance towards the ghosts were very young. It just wasn't right.
He continued to try to free himself and do something to aid Dennis as the young man ducked out of the way of the clumsy first swings of the mallet. Despite the fact that Dennis was finally doing something he felt he could be proud about, the terror was evident in his already blood-smeared face. Then came the blow that he couldn't dodge, connecting solidly with Dennis' arm with a crack that Arthur felt more than heard.
The boy fell to his knees with a cry that tore at Arthur's heart. This man had trusted him, despite his lack of reciprocated trust. Hell, Arthur had punched the guy, and Dennis had gotten up to argue an alternative to a deadly plan, and suggest that they try once more to find the children. He had tried to get Arthur and his family out of the building, both before and after the series of horrible circumstances. There had to be something Arthur could do! Even if it was just a way of letting this lonely person know that someone cared about what happened to him.
Deep within the gears of the machine-house, they heard the sound of the last door opening. The Jugger-naught had been released. Dennis looked up at its oncoming form with frightened eyes, before another blow of the mallet slammed into his back.
Arthur cried out again, wishing there was something -anything!- he could do, but it was useless. Tears fell unheeded down his cheeks and Dennis was slammed against the metal in the wall, blood dripping from his face as the hemorrhaging became apparent. The boy was dying. As his body finally just snapped from the abuse it received, Dennis caught Arthur's gaze with his eyes. Behind the pain was a feeling of redemption, hope and love that surprised the math teacher. Then, there was more blood, and the boy was gone into the dark void of an impermanent oblivion.
His vision clouded over with tears as he saw the broken body on the floor and witnessed the two ghost's violent sense of glee over the boy's death. The sounds of chanting grew loud in the stillness, causing the remaining ghosts to head to its source, but Arthur's gaze remained on that bloodied form.
The light from his wife's apparition drew Arthur from his dull trance, and he turned to stare at her. It was true, she had been trapped here as well. The thought caused more tears to roll down his cheeks. Yet, his dead wife merely smiled sadly at him. How could she smile? He hadn't been able to save her! Either from death, or from this cold imprisonment following it. Didn't God grant those who deserved it reprieve from the sorrows of their lives?
Then she was gone as well, and Arthur succumbed to tears. He had failed everyone that had needed him so far. He couldn't fail again, it wasn't right that he stand by and let anyone else die, especially not his own children. The determination gave him much needed strength.
Casting one final glance at Dennis' body, Arthur prayed that the boy had been released from the pain that had haunted his life. And he pushed down the glass fortress to go save his family.
*
Yeah, that sucked. But I just felt so bad for Dennis, and Arthur seemed like a mostly nice guy... The story just kinda forced its way out. Review?