DEADWEIGHT

By

No Line on the Horizon

Their lives all went on as normal, trying with all their valor to continue daily life in the memory of their fallen hero, as if his presence still lurked the daytime air. For nearly a week, the entire city, let alone the world, went into a state of mourning for him. Even his villains, and rivals as well stopped their current occupations to pay reverence to him.

Now it was a few weeks after that dreadful day, all seemed normal within the boundaries known as Station Square. His corpse had been laid to rest in a passive manner, closest of friends yielding his wish of being buried in the place he always loved to go, almost using the place as a calming mechanism, like receiving a massage.

It was just breathtaking how gorgeous the landscape had been laid out, God's way of expressing his love for the arts can be said of it. Rolling green meadows, its grass so soft to the touch that it had the equivalent of lying on a plush pillow. And the flowers that scattered the land, reds and violets dotting around a shimmering pond with carp that swam without a care in the universe.

Yes, only Sonic was the one to ever visit such a place, so much beauty in it whereas it could be in the category of a dream.

But he in turn wasn't the lone visitor to the surroundings.

A local pink hedgehog sporting not her childlike pink dress, but now a light blue long sleeve, and some regular jeans, nothing fancy. Her bangs had gotten much longer over the past year, and her maturity level seemed to have augmented quite a bit by her appearance.

So you would think.

When he was alive she'd still wander around, following his every breaking move, more in the way of loving for him rather than a stalker. He even began to push away less, almost as if the cobalt hedgehog finally welcomed her in his presence more habitually, something everyone perceived, as if something was up.

And this place, seemingly was the only thing they truly both adored, and neither of them even knew about each other's visits.

Only was there ever one occurrence where they almost ran into one another, and this just was avoided by the gap of half an inch. Amy had scurried away and hid behind a nearby cedar, scarcely able to fit her frame so the surface area hid her.

Then arrived that day, where he just disappeared out of sight, sending waves of concern rattling against Amy's mind.

That same night, she flicked on her television hoping to just catch a quick check on the weather for tomorrow, when a news headline sent her into a paralyzing vortex of anguish.

Her hero…

Her one person that she loved with an unbreakable passion…

Was, dead.

The black plastic device known as the remote, slipped out of grip, and crashed onto her wood floor, some of the material flying across the room. Her eyes stared blankly at the screen, still hoping, praying that the unimaginable didn't just transpire.

And then came the emotions, so many to the point where it was frightening. The screaming from her normally peaceful hope erupted in all directions, even diverging the snooping woodland animals away. Tears poured from her emerald colored eyes, soaking her shirt, couch, and just about anything that was in her vicinity at the moment.

As her tears fell with a pitter patter onto a waxed wooden floor, Cream barged into the home, her usual cheerful face showing the shock and hurt Amy had just experienced, as if looking into a mirror. The 10 year old fell into her friend's welcoming arms, softly crying into her chest whispering in a faint ghostlike whisper, why did it have to be him.

"I don't know… I just don't know," she replied, the coarse murmur of her usual bright voice making it almost unfeasible to tell it belonged to her.

The headline read as followed, Sonic the Hedgehog pronounced dead by attack, and just the words Sonic and attack was enough for her to know. All her life, she dedicated a vast amount of it to keeping her number one hedgehog safe and taken care of. He seemed much more relaxed around her, and nearly acknowledged the feelings he kept bottled up for years.

She'd never know what he was pondering in his mind all this time, it would haunt hers forever.

And it also so happened that the encounter with Cream would be her last contact with another living being, but she didn't know it at that point.

For the following days, maybe around a weeks worth of time, many different ceremonies and memorials were held for the fallen hero. Two days following the death, his body was cleaned up and put into the preeminent condition, as if the killers hand never touched the body.

According to the report that had been issued by the FBI, the murderer was an extreme anti-Sonic believer.

And his logic was that if he was to rid the world of what he thought was a pest that the world would be safer. Now he fulfilled his goal, and also got a execution sentence on top of it.

For her however, this kind of information was totally worthless, so they had caught and decreed the eradicator, what good would it do now? Sonic was gone, gone forever, and there wasn't anything to bring him back.

Now here was the once jovial, sanguine girl who always was busy trying to win his heart or just enjoying time with friends, sitting in the core of her once tidy and ornamental room in complete darkness. In fact the obscurity was so great, not even the brightest of colors could be viewed, no matter how close it was towards the eye.

The door was securely shut, no cracks of any sort excelling into the room, and almost impossible for whichever to attempt to come into. The only exit out of the nearly concealed room was an open window that allowed in a smooth and light breeze, she had only opened it minutes ago as the air concealed inside the dark room was beginning to get humid and rather uncomfortable.

She stayed seated on her carpet, her face visible somewhat now due to the minuscule amount of moonlight that shone off herself. Her emerald eyes once bright and full of life, became empty and deprived of any emotion, as if you were looking into the eyes of a person recently deceased.

Her appearance would be fooling however, as she was seated on her soft bed wearing not her usual attire, but an absolutely stunning red gown studded with jewels, it was the most luxurious piece of clothing she had ever had possessed. Its flawless fabric hugged her body, showing off the curves she has grown along the last couple of years, as if she was preparing for a fancy dance to attend.

The way items within the room were arranged also seemed very questionable, as many of her vital possessions were surrounding her. It could be compared to Egyptians and their way of storing possessions within the tombs of their mummified pharaohs, which is saying that she believed that all her assets would follow her to Sonic.

Then, the pink hedgehog revealed what was to be a hefty kitchen knife, completely made from steel, and was just acquired on this day at a local supermarket nearby. She palmed the weapon in her hands, emotionless it appeared, but nevertheless frightened of what she wanted to do. But in her mind, one that would be deemed to be mentally detrimental to almost anybody from the field of Psychologists, it was reckoned to be the right thing to do.

"Here I come…"

And the knife plunged an unfathomable into her chest, tearing her flesh apart inch by inch, and puncturing the dead center of her heart. Amy's breathing intensified drastically, every single breath becoming more difficult by the second. She stumbled up somehow from the floor she had been seated on, and was staggering around the room. Her vision was getting foggy and hazy, normal objects that were usually effortless to see now were unrecognizable to her.

Still alive and not yet unconscious, Amy performed the action that would guarantee her death…

She pulled out the knife.

One sharp and final breath was emitted from her lips before her body fell onto the ground, landing with a sharp thud, but not breaking any bones thankfully.

Blood began to seep from beneath her lifeless body , forming a small but gradually growing pool of her dark red blood.

And the knife, present and plain for anyone to see next to the doorway, moonlight shining ever so lightly off the slivers of blood left behind.

Who would have thought, the life of an innocent cheerful teenage girl like so, could end in such tragedy and despair.

And there was no letter.

No hesitation.

No warning.

No person to aid her, to be by her side.

And now here she was, dead, by her own cause. The deadweight that lingered upon the death of her hero, was lifted off her like leaves whisking through chilly autumn air.

Gone was all the emotional strain of her isolation, for now she would be heading to the person she wanted most of all.

At least that's what she believed.