Alright, I dont normally do this, but I wanna get more people interested in the story, and this chapter was so much fun to write! so, enjoy people! you guys have been so good to me with all the reviews! I read and appreciate every single one! keep em comin! 3 -Kris
Roger watched Mark curled up with his old jacket. His eyes went wide, and a sad look worked its way onto his face as he realized how upset the filmmaker really was. He rested his hand against the glass that allowed him to view the small man with a sigh.
"I miss you too, buddy…"
In all honesty, he had no idea where he was. He had been here ever since he died. All he remembered was gasping, and holding onto Mark tightly as he felt the life draining from him. The next thing he knew, his eyes flew open. He was in some sort of field. Bright rays of golden sun stretched for miles. He almost cried as he realized this must be what people meant by "heaven." he started to run for it as he saw people looming up ahead, the view taking his breath away. His entire body felt light, and strong, and the gentle warmth started to envelop him as he got closer, but he was stopped abruptly as something caught him around the waist, and his vision went dark.
He had woken up on this dull looking platform, where he spent his days being able to peek in on Mark and the others whenever he pleased. Though, it was more of a form of torture. Seeing his favorite person so hopeless, so miserable, and not being able to a damn thing about it sucked. A lot. He wondered why he hadn't been allowed to go to the beautiful field where the others were. Was this hell? he didn't understand any of this. He knew he had been an asshole, but his karma couldn't have been that bad, could it?
He looked himself over. Was he an angel? where were his wings? He smirked as he imagined having huge, black wings like a demon. That would look sick. He couldn't wait to show Mar-... He paused. He looked down with a sigh. If this was whoever was in charge's way of guilting him for being such a douche bag, it was working.
Seeing Mark sleeping caused him to get up. Was he supposed to be the small man's guardian or something? That wouldn't make any sense. He couldn't touch him, couldn't speak to him. He was stuck behind a two way mirror with no idea what to do. He had been waiting, trying to understand for years. He began to grow impatient. A few minutes later, and he was enraged.
"HEY!" he shouted, looking around. His voice echoed. There was nobody here except for him. He saw the edges of the platform he was on. He appeared to be floating in the sky. He couldn't see anything below him. Not a city, Not land, not even a single plane. Blue sky stretched for miles. It was like he was in another dimension.
He continued to walk around towards the middle of the platform, his fists clenched at his sides.
"HELLO!?" he screamed louder, his temper getting worse. Wait until he got his hands on whoever was behind this shit. They would pay, he promised himself that.
He paused, kicking his foot against the ground angrily. "SERIOUSLY!? WHAT THE FUCK AM I HERE FOR!? WHY CAN'T I GO BACK TO THE OTHER PLACE!?" he glared around as nothing answered him.
"Y'KNOW, IF THIS IS YOUR WAY OF TRYING TO GET ME TO LEARN A LESSON, I'M NOT LEARNING JACK SHIT!" He sighed, lowering his head in defeat.
"You never did learn to control that temper of yours..."
Roger jumped in surprise as a voice sounded behind him. He whipped around, his eyes going wide. Above him loomed the shadowy, dark figure that had stopped him from joining the others so many years ago.
"You!" Roger hissed, glaring. "You're the asshole who stopped me from going to the nice looking place, with the grassy hills and shit!"
The figure paused. "Guilty as charged." it was obvious from it's deep, booming voice, that it was male.
"Why did you stop me!? Why am I here!? Who are you!? Why can't I go to the nice place!?"
The man's eyes narrowed. "Hasn't your mother ever taught you that bombarding new people you meet with questions is rude?"
Roger growled. "But you aren't new! I've seen you before, unfortunately… besides...Hasn't your mother ever taught you that keeping people from going to where they want to go is rude?" he mocked the being's voice.
"Your attitude will get you nowhere here, Roger." he glared at the musician. "If I recall correctly, the place you were headed for was called heaven…" his tone went cold. "However, heaven is not a place you deserve to be…"
Roger paused in disbelief.
"The fuck are you talking about!? I so deserve to be there! I'm a great guy!"
"You are selfish, and rude!" the man snarled.
"So I had a few bad days…" Roger murmured back, rubbing his neck nervously. "But I have a heart! I'm not all bad!"
The man paused. "Perhaps you're right. You're not as bad as you could be… but you're still pretty bad. You're like a house with a rotting foundation… you have an owner inside of you who keeps denying the problem even exists…" He turned away, beginning to walk off.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean- HEY! WAIT!" Roger yelled, chasing after him. "You aren't leaving me here again! I want out! I deserve to go to heaven, and if you won't let me, I'll get there my fucking self!" and with that, he lunged for the man in an effort to take him down.
He let out a scream as he was knocked back clear across the platform, skidding and tumbling until he was almost near the edge. He curled up, whimpering as visions of all the times he had made Mark cry filled his mind. He tried to shoo the memories away, but they haunted him as he whined, and held his head. He took back what he said before. This was torture.
He was about to get up, but before he could, he felt something slam into him like a freight train. He screamed as he was on his back, his top half hanging over the platform. He blinked open his eyes, yelping in fear as the man loomed over him. There was undeniable rage in his eyes. Roger knew he had fucked up. He suddenly felt a pair of strong hands around his throat, squeezing his airway nearly closed.
He choked and kicked as he was held over the side, his eyes wide with fear. He tried to breathe, but felt panic rise up in his chest when he could barely draw a breath.
A low snarl escaped from the being holding him there.
"You haven't the slightest idea how dire of a situation you've put yourself in…." he spat, gripping Roger's neck tighter. Roger hacked loudly, hissing in pain. "If you're in such a hurry to leave this place, perhaps I should give you a glimpse of where you're headed next…"
The being gave an evil smile. All of a sudden, Roger winced as he felt unbearable heat rising up against his body. He turned his head, screaming as he saw what waited below. Fire that scorched the lands. He shivered, wanting to cover his ears as he heard the undeniable pleads and moans of suffering people. All were begging for death. Roger's face was plastered with a look of utter horror.
"You did this to yourself, Davis… this is all your fault…" Roger winced and struggled as images of Mimi suffering came into his mind, then Mark. He whined loudly.
"You have been nothing but selfish, and disrespectful to those who loved you... you were ungrateful and rude in your final hours..."
Roger swallowed fearfully.
"You see that little blond man down there every day you're here, no?" Roger peeked over the side, the heat making him wince. He couldn't see anything else but the inferno awaiting him down below.
"Y-yeah... Mark's my best friend..." he whimpered, staring up at the man.
"He CARES ABOUT YOU!" the man roared, pushing Roger further off the side. Roger screamed and flailed. "Do you realize that!? he's been nothing but absolutely MISERABLE without you! When he was by your side before you went you made NO effort to apologize, or make things right! you cried into his arms to comfort YOURSELF!"
Roger was panicking now.
"I-I was scared!" he shouted. "I was scared and upset and I didn't know I was supposed to apologize! ill apologize now! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! please dont throw me down there!" he grabbed for the taller, stronger man above him. "PLEASE!"
"It's too late for apologies! What's done is done, and there's nothing you can do! you've messed up, Roger… There's no fixing your mistakes now! you'll suffer and beg for the release of death, but you can't kill what's already dead! you'll be damned for ETERNITY!" he kept pushing Roger towards the edge until almost his whole body was being singed by the heat. Roger was so scared, he burst into tears.
"There has to be something I can do! please! give me a mission, let me try and fix things! I'M SORRY!" he screamed, sobbing harder. "I don't wanna go to hell! please dont make me, I DON'T WANNA GO!" he gazed up at the man with huge, pleading, desperate eyes. "ill do anything!" he yelled. "ANYTHING!"
The man glared down at him for awhile, silent. Roger didn't dare do anything but breathe as he was examined. Suddenly, he was being pulled away from the edge. He was still hanging, but not as far as he was before.
"You're lucky you caught me in a good mood, Roger..." he looked like he was about to speak again, however, Roger beat him to it.
"Good mood? I-if t-this is a good m-mood... I'd hate t-to see you u-pset..." he stammered, looking down.
"SILENCE!" the tall man bellowed. Roger jumped and screamed again as he was pushed more towards the edge. He started to struggle once more, apologizing like crazy.
The man tilted Roger's head up, and stared into his eyes.
"Roger Davis..." he began, eyes narrowed. "If you had the chance to redeem yourself... to undo what was done... to make things right... would you?"
Roger looked confused. "Wh-what?"
"I'm giving you a second chance...this time, without your disease... though you dont deserve it... It's my duty to offer one to every tortured soul that comes my way... so I'll ask you again... if you had the chance to redeem yourself... to right your wrongs... Would you?"
Roger blinked, his eyes wide. He nodded quickly. Suddenly he was pulled away from the edge altogether. He sighed with relief.
"You have unfinished business, boy... now you go... and make it up to Mark... and everyone else you've been a complete prick to… You better shape up… or you're going to a fate far worse than anything imaginable.. one that'll make death seem like a merry go round… Do I make myself clear?" he glared at Roger angrily. Roger nodded quickly, whimpering a little. The man started walking away with him.
Roger quirked a brow. "Wait, so... am I going back? do I get to be reborn into something? because I was thinking maybe I could be like, a little stronger, maybe taller..." he continued to babble as he was carried towards the other edge. "Oh! maybe blue eyes... and I'd really like a nice ca-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed suddenly as he was tossed forcefully over the side. He screeched and kicked, twisting around to find any sort of purchase. Looking up, he shivered as he saw the man waving at him with a smirk on his face.
He continued to twist and fall as he saw the city approaching him below. He screamed even louder. He was headed straight for traffic.
He flailed, nearly wetting his pants as the ground got closer and closer. He shut his eyes tight. Before he could splatter, though, he found himself suddenly in the middle of the road. He breathed a sigh of relief, tilting his head back and trying to calm down.
Suddenly, screeching of tires made him yell in fear again. He curled up tight, putting his hands out in front of him in feeble defense as a car came barreling towards him. Luckily, it stopped just in time.
"THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!? GET OUTTA THE ROAD, ASSHOLE!" the driver screamed from the window. Roger jumped to his feet, taking off.
"MORON!" called another driver after him as he reached the sidewalk before disappearing down another alley. He stopped once he was out of sight, breathing heavily, and trying to calm down. His heart was beating out of his chest. His heart… he felt his skin, his chest, his heartbeat… he was alive! and according to the man who had thrown him back here, he no longer had HIV.. he had to find Mark. Now.
He turned around, looking up. He had no idea what part of the city he was in… or where Mark's new place was from here. Was he allowed to ask for directions? for help? he looked for the man. He was alone. What did he mean by right his wrongs? fix his mistakes? what was he supposed to do?
As he walked out from the alley, and started to wander in a random direction, he felt his heart ache with anticipation. It's been almost five years since he died, and all that time, he missed Mark like crazy. The thought of seeing the small man after so long made his heart jump into his throat. He couldn't wait to see him again when he found his way. He promised himself no matter what, he would redeem himself. He'd fix his mistakes, somehow, and he'd make sure to keep Mark safe. He wouldn't ever let him go again, not after all his filmmaker had been through. As he continued on, determined, he couldn't stop a smile from creeping onto his face.