ultimateform14: :'( indeed. D:
Ginger Katt: ...I cried. Revelations was so... I can't even describe it.
Darkz009: That's how they get people to play... Those huge spoilers at the end of games. It usually ends with characters' deaths, though :(
And thanks to:
-Kaslyna, for adding this story to their favourites
-HeartBound101, for adding this story to their alert and their favourites
-and GDMcat, for adding this story to their alert
I finished Revelations about an hour ago. I'm just in such an odd mood right now because of it...
Anyway, enjoy.
Now that it's over, I just want to hold her
I've got to live with the choices I made, but I can't live with myself today
Hey Lucy, I remember your name
-Skillet's Lucy
When Desmond awoke, he slowly opened his eyes, then gasped sharply when he felt the pain radiating from his right eye. This shock woke him up completely, and, opening his left eye, he stared at Lucy's blank face for a few seconds, registering. By now, patches of her skin were a purplish-blue colour, and her body was totally stiff. Desmond turned his head toward the sky to find the sun blinding his good eye. There were no lights in sight.
God I've lied, am I lost in your eyes?
He looked at Lucy, who could almost be sleeping if it weren't for her discoloured skin. The urge to urinate coursed through his body, but he didn't want to get up. What if he turned his back and she'd be gone?
Half-sighing and half-moaning, Desmond reluctantly sat up, wincing at his sore back, then stood, stretching. He looked down at Lucy's still form, curled in on itself, then blinked and wandered to the nearest tree to relieve himself.
As Desmond redid his jeans, completely numb to the pain in his hand, he became aware of a yawning pit in his stomach. He was hungry, very hungry. He hadn't eaten since he and Lucy left the Sanctuary, the day before. Slowly, he turned back towards the body in the centre of the clearing, heartbroken by the stillness of her.
"I won't leave you," he assured her, moving to sit, cross-legged, by her head. She still lay on her side, hands curved toward her stomach, as if she still felt the pain from her wound.
For the first time in a week, it was quiet. The lights were gone from his head, leaving it surprisingly empty. There were no voices whispering in his ear, no white-hot anger and impatience scalding his brain.
The silence was interrupted by a loud moan of protest from Desmond's stomach. Feed me, it was saying. Feed me now.
"What am I going to do?" the Assassin muttered. He didn't want to leave her here, alone. He stood and paced for a little, stealing quick glances at Lucy as he debated. After everything that had happened, the last thing he wanted to do was follow the lights' orders.
All of a sudden, the sun turned a harsh yellow-orange colour, bathing the clearing in a fiery light. Desmond whipped around and Lucy was gone. He started for a couple seconds, panic rising in his chest, then turned to the left.
Lucy was standing two feet in front of him, her skin discoloured and coated in blood.
"Who am I?" she asked softly, looking straight into his eyes. Desmond just stared, unable to answer.
"Am I your friend?" she wondered, her voice growing harsher on the last word. Before he could react, she darted forward and grabbed his neck, lifting him into the air, holding up by only one hand—the hand that was clutching his throat.
"Or am I your lover?" she screamed, lips no longer moving; her mouth and eyes were wide open, harsh white light flowing out of them. Lucy pushed forward and slammed his back against a trunk, causing him to cry out sharply. "The one shred, one light, one bright, shining star you cling to in this universe? Or am I your guilt? Crushing the life out of you because you can't get over the fact that I'm dead! That you feel responsible? Who... Am... I?" she howled, whirling around and crushing him into a different tree. "Why do you keep fighting me? Why can't you let go?"
Through gritted teeth, and keeping his eye fixed upward, Desmond choked out, "Because you were my everything... And if I let you go, I've got nothing left."
After a few silent seconds, the pressure on his neck was released, and Desmond fell to the ground, gasping and coughing.
"I'm scared, Desmond." Her voice floated through his left ear, and he realized she was kneeling beside him now. "I don't want to die. But it's the only way out."
Her face was back to normal again. She stared at him intensely, waiting for an answer. He looked back at her for a few seconds. "You're not Lucy," he whispered. "Lucy's dead."
The woman next to him smiled sadly, warmth in her eyes. "Yes she is."
Colours returned to normal; a few flashes later and the blonde in front of him vanished. Slowly, Desmond sat up and turned his head; she was lying in the centre of the clearing, body bathed in sunlight. He stared for a while, suddenly reminded of the throbbing pain in his right eye. Gingerly, he brought his left hand up to his face. Searing pain erupted from contact, and he pulled his hand away. Alarmed, he stared at the yellow-and-white liquid that now coated his fingertip. He felt his cheek. It too was wet, and not from tears. He needed a doctor.
"I'm sorry," he breathed, but didn't move. He knew he needed to get up, to leave, to find some food and a hospital. But he couldn't bring himself to.
"You're dead, you're dead, you're dead," he muttered, then took a deep breath and stood. That was as far as he got; he simply could not leave. Anxiously, he paced the clearing again.
"Why can't I let you go?" Desmond moaned, repeating Lucy's earlier words and realizing they were right. It was registering in his mind that she was dead, and he believed it, knew it, but he could not leave. He wasn't about to let her down. She wouldn't give up on him, and never did, so he wouldn't give up on her.
"You are honestly unbelievable," a light hissed from behind him. Desmond could hear the malice in its voice; they were getting fed up.
This hate that you gave me keeps saying
Desmond said nothing, only stared hard at a tree trunk in front of him, trying to burn it with his gaze.
"We are going no where." The light swept in front of him. Desmond glanced up and gasped softly; instead of an actual light, it was an anti-light, black. It didn't suck any light away, like a black hole would, only hovered in front of him, blocking out whatever would be behind it; it looked like a ball of floating coal, about a foot across.
"What are you supposed to be?" Desmond taunted, knowing he probably shouldn't but not caring. "A burned-out lightbulb?"
"I may not be capable of producing light, but I can do other things." As if to demonstrate, it reeled backwards and slammed into a tree like a cannonball, bending the trunk easily. The loud crack of splitting wood accompanied the display.
"Try as you might, you cannot avoid your destiny," the light - if one could call it that - reminded him as it finished beating on the tree. "We will do whatever it takes to see that it is fulfilled."
Desmond choked out a laugh. "What are you going to do? Threaten me to death? I don't have to do anything you tell me to! You don't have any leverage!"
"Oh, don't we?" the anti-light wondered mockingly, moving so it was floating above Lucy's body. Desmond followed it with his eye, unsure of what was about to happen.
"What about if we take away your anchor? Where will you float to?" With these words, the light dropped like a rock inches away from Lucy's head, shaking the ground slightly and causing a depression in the earth.
Desmond stared at the light, sizing it up. "You wouldn't," he growled.
A short laugh was barked out, then the anti-light heaved itself off the ground. Without hesitation, it dropped itself on Lucy's left arm. Since she was lying on her right side, her forearm snapped, leaving it at an odd angle, shards of bone jutting out. No blood.
Desmond gritted his teeth, feeling tears welling up. He couldn't bear to see her treated like this, but he mustn't do what the lights wanted him to. She was dead.
The black light raised itself up again. "Not enough?" it asked. When no response was given, it rose up again, higher this time, and fell onto Lucy's thighs. Since femurs are so thick, there was a small crack, but no bones broke. Not satisfied with this, the light brought itself down again and again, until her upper legs were nothing more than a pulverized, bloodied pulp, with white from the bones jutting through.
The sickening crunches made Desmond want to throw up. He did dry heave a few times, but there was nothing in his stomach to expel.
"What would it take?" the light demanded once it was finished, hovering a few feet above Lucy's head. "Try and stop me!"
Just let me burn
Desmond covered his face with his hands, jostling both his eye and fingers but not caring, moaning softly.
"How about this then?" the light screamed. Desmond glanced up and regretted it as he watched it drop down on Lucy's stomach. It burst open easily - it was already bloated due to decomposition - and spilled guts all over the forest floor. The stench hit Desmond in the face like a sledgehammer, instinctively causing him to gag and slap his left hand over his nose.
"Stop... it," he gasped. Lucy's body was being defiled.
"Make me," the light hissed at him, "or her head is next."
Desmond didn't answer, only stared at the ground, trying to decide what he wanted more—being free or keeping Lucy intact.
"Fine." It was interpreting his silence as a go ahead to do whatever it wanted. Desmond glanced up sharply—just in time to see Lucy's face once more before the anti-light slammed down on her upturned ear, and her head caved with a loud splintering noise.
No... His knees unable to support him, Desmond crumpled, just barely catching himself with his hands. Their palms slammed hard into the ground. Ignoring the pain, Desmond looked up and regretted it.
Just let me burn
Lucy's face was completely gone, covered in blood and brains and crushed under its bones. Her head wasn't flattened, it practically exploded; there were bits of bone as far away as two feet from the actual impact. There wasn't a depression in her skull, however: it was like crushing a watermelon with a sledgehammer. Everything went everywhere.
"Enough?" the light shrieked shrilly, hurting his ears. It rose up higher; it was going to hit her again.
"No!" Desmond scrambled to his feet and threw himself towards Lucy's body, attempting to move it out of the way. He cleared the three feet easily, but what happened next wasn't so easy.
There was a sickening crunch, and a split second later Desmond midsection exploded in agony. He had somehow ended up on top of Lucy's head, and the basketball-sized light slammed itself down accidentally onto him.
Desmond rolled sideways with his arms involuntarily; he was off of Lucy's body, but his problems were far from over. He was in so much pain he couldn't breathe. The light had come down on his lower back, directly on top of his spine; he had no feeling in his legs.
His vision blurring, Desmond could barely make out the shapes of hundreds of lights floating in the air above, buzzing around him. He knew he was dying; they were so red they were about to burst, and he could just make out their cries of anger and despair.
Gingerly, he brought his left hand down to his side, and was rewarded with another intense burst of pain. Needing to know what had happened to him, and since touch was out, Desmond slowly raised his head up. He stared, totally in shock.
His entire stomach was split open from left to right, organs and part of his spine sticking out. Intestines, bile, and, mostly, blood, leaked out on both sides. Feeling himself start to hyperventilate, Desmond let his head thud back to the ground, probably for the last time. He coughed, tasted blood. Every breath was a struggle.
His eyes slid closed, and he let himself go, away from the pain.
You are finally free.
-fin-
Well, that's it. After eight and a half months, Paradise Lost is finished. Thank you so much to anyone and everyone who ever reviewed this story, or added it to their favourites or alert. You guys are what kept me going.
Also: I used some Dead Space quotes up there. And the orange flashing is from Dead Space 2 as well :3