Warning: Rated 'M' for adult subject matter and adult language.
The main characters of this story are based on characters from the cartoon 'Code Lyoko.' I do not own, nor do I claim, any copyright to these characters.
The next month was hell for Jeremie. After that morning at breakfast, he avoided her. When ever he would see her across the campus, he would ignore her.
Sissi and his other friends all tried to get him to talk to Aelita, to tell her what was really bothering him, but he did nothing. All the while, the demon inside him laughed.
Things finally came to a head the night that Aelita went to the nightclub. That's when he realized that he had lost her for good.
He made a decision, and went to the old factory, pausing on the bridge for a moment. He had crossed that bridge many times with Aelita and his friends, but tonight he was alone.
He went inside and untied one of the ropes they used to use to swing down to the main level. He cut it to a third of its original length, then fashioned a noose around one end.
He thought about ending it in the factory, where his joy and pain had started. But he decided to do it on the bridge instead.
He tied the free end of the rope around one of the pillars of the bridge. All he needed to do now was to tighten the noose around his neck and jump. He just stood there, though, and looked out on the water.
"Nice view," came a woman's voice behind him.
He turned and saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had long blond hair that reached down to her hips, and the bluest eyes he had ever seen.
"What's got you out on such a nice night like tonight," she asked.
"Just thinking," Jeremie replied.
"What, you got work to do here tomorrow?" she asked, "I was walking by and saw you doing something on the side here. Are you a painter?"
"No, I've got something I've got to do tonight, and I was setting up for it."
"Well, don't let me stop you."
The next thing Jeremie felt was the snap! of his neck as he reached the end of the rope and the noose tightened. The rope then broke, and he fell into the water. Then there was blackness.
Somehow, Jeremie found himself back on the bridge. The woman was still standing there.
"Well, that was a stupid way to solve your problem," she said.
"What do you know of my problem," Jeremie asked, "just who are you anyway?"
"You can call me Judy," she told him, "and I know quite a bit about you. I can tell you this much, you applied a rather permanent solution to a temporary problem."
"I couldn't think of anything else. I can't live without her."
"You should have told her that, not me."
"There was only one thing she wanted from me, and I couldn't give that to her, not yet."
"I know she thinks that's true. And you did help give her the idea that is was, you know."
"How's that?"
"Every time you took her to the brink of ecstasy, then backed off. You kept making promises to her with your body you knew you couldn't keep yet, and she finally demanded satisfaction from you. Now, she's off somewhere else, looking for what she thinks is love, not realizing she already had it, except that you had your head screwed on wrong."
"Now I'm going to show you the consequences of your actions. Call it a Welcome To Hell Gift."
Jeremie was suddenly someplace else, in an apartment somewhere. There, Aelita was making love to some man she had met earlier in the evening. Her cries and moans of pleasure tore at him like claws.
The next morning, he saw her wake up, alone. He looked over her shoulder at the note that was left for her. He saw her cry when she read it.
He saw her drift away from their friends. He called to her, pleaded with her, raged at her not to leave them, but she couldn't hear him.
He was there when she graduated, when she left Paris.
He followed her through her life. The clubs, the men, sometimes women, the mornings after. Each scene, each whisper, each moan, each rejection, was yet another barb driven into his soul.
He was there when she met Michael Buford, there when she married him. He was there when they moved to America. He was there when Buford left her alone. He was also there when Buford slept with his secretary, and heard their derisive laughter about Aelita's naivety.
Jeremie was there when Aelita's husband left her, alone and penniless. He was beside her as she spent the rest of her earthly existence trying to find some comfort, some joy in her life. He was there when all she could ever find were brief moments of physical pleasure, that paled in comparison to what she really wanted, what she once had, and faded all too quickly. He was there when she died, there when she stood by her grave.
He was there when she ultimately cried out in her despair.
Jeremie once again stood on the bridge where he died. Judy was standing before him.
"Well, how do you like it, this thing you did?" Judy asked him. His sobs were his only reply.
"What will become of her?" he finally asked, barely controlling his sorrow and remorse.
"She will remain where she was buried, alone for eternity. I suppose stories will be told about the ghost of a pink-haired woman wandering about, calling out for her true love, but you never can tell."
"And what will become of me?"
"You made your bed, big boy, now you can sleep in it. You can sit here and watch the factory get torn down, see thousands of people killed by radiation exposure. You can sit here and know that XANA finally won, that its evil will spread even farther then it had when you died. Sit here and know that others will have to be raised up in order to defeat what it left behind. You can sit here knowing that she is where she is, forever separated from you, forever longing for the briefest glimpse of you, even if it were in the Fires of Hell."
"Is there any way I can change this? To spare Aelita at least?" Jeremie begged.
"Perhaps."
