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[EM] -- December Prompt #2
Dec. 13th, 2007 02:50 pmIf you were Scrooge and three ghosts came to visit you, where would they take you in your past, present, and future?
The darkness is pressing, suffocating, all around him. It’s complete silence, where the sound of his racing heart pounds in his ears and seems to echo off of the satin walls of his new cage. He screams for hours, he thinks, ripping his throat raw, tasting blood. The wounds disappear only to rip open again as he begs for Hiro, for someone, for anyone, to come. Eventually he simply can’t anymore. No one is coming, and the air is thin. He can’t see anything, but he can feel how near it all is. The weight of the Earth rests on him, the satin a mocking softness, like the pillow under his head. Nails shred it in desperation, only to bloody themselves on wood that he pounds on as tears streak down his cheeks.
How? The question rolls inside of him, again and again until his mind is screaming with it even as his voice keeps its peace. How? Why?
Hours, days, some immeasurable span of time before, it had all seemed so near, so close, the world at his fingertips, ready to be reshaped as he issued in the New Age of Man. Now the air is thin around him, his heart speeding up even as he tries to calm it, breathing slow, shallow, trying to reduce his need for oxygen. He never believed he could fail. He never believed Hiro would stop him. He never thought, even if he did, that it would come to this. Worse than death. Worse than grief. Worse than loss.
It almost makes him scream again, and he bangs against the wood of the lid, helpless in fury and fear, feeling splinters slide into his skin. His body pushes them back out and he bangs again, feeling them gouge deep. It’s a cycle, a rhythm, the pain of it, impaling himself on them again and again and healing in an effort to stay sane, stay here, not start screaming again until there’s nothing left but a shell of the man he was.
Fury. Grief. Loss. Grief. Fury. Pleading, begging, threatening. It’s quiet in his head, yet he feels like he’s screaming still for all of that. Pain, heal, pain, heal, as tears keep falling, and no matter the things he’s done he cannot comprehend that Hiro has left him here, like this, for always. He’ll come. He has to come. He wouldn’t. He would. He’s not coming. He did. He’s gone.
The air thins despite his best efforts. He’s too deep. It’s too close. Everything is seeping out and the darkness is creeping in from around him to replace what was there inside, pushing him out, further away, reaching for even the spark that always burns. His cells can repair themselves, but as quick as they do, his body recognizes the lack of oxygen and they break down again. Visions dance before him, whispers slide through his brain and ghosts’ mouths open with sharp teeth, gnashing through memory, dream and hope.
* * *
( He watches him, his conscience, as he sleeps next to the man he barely remembers being in an inn outside a village whose name he's long since forgotten. )
ooc: All dialogue from "Out of Time" and "Powerless"
The darkness is pressing, suffocating, all around him. It’s complete silence, where the sound of his racing heart pounds in his ears and seems to echo off of the satin walls of his new cage. He screams for hours, he thinks, ripping his throat raw, tasting blood. The wounds disappear only to rip open again as he begs for Hiro, for someone, for anyone, to come. Eventually he simply can’t anymore. No one is coming, and the air is thin. He can’t see anything, but he can feel how near it all is. The weight of the Earth rests on him, the satin a mocking softness, like the pillow under his head. Nails shred it in desperation, only to bloody themselves on wood that he pounds on as tears streak down his cheeks.
How? The question rolls inside of him, again and again until his mind is screaming with it even as his voice keeps its peace. How? Why?
Hours, days, some immeasurable span of time before, it had all seemed so near, so close, the world at his fingertips, ready to be reshaped as he issued in the New Age of Man. Now the air is thin around him, his heart speeding up even as he tries to calm it, breathing slow, shallow, trying to reduce his need for oxygen. He never believed he could fail. He never believed Hiro would stop him. He never thought, even if he did, that it would come to this. Worse than death. Worse than grief. Worse than loss.
It almost makes him scream again, and he bangs against the wood of the lid, helpless in fury and fear, feeling splinters slide into his skin. His body pushes them back out and he bangs again, feeling them gouge deep. It’s a cycle, a rhythm, the pain of it, impaling himself on them again and again and healing in an effort to stay sane, stay here, not start screaming again until there’s nothing left but a shell of the man he was.
Fury. Grief. Loss. Grief. Fury. Pleading, begging, threatening. It’s quiet in his head, yet he feels like he’s screaming still for all of that. Pain, heal, pain, heal, as tears keep falling, and no matter the things he’s done he cannot comprehend that Hiro has left him here, like this, for always. He’ll come. He has to come. He wouldn’t. He would. He’s not coming. He did. He’s gone.
The air thins despite his best efforts. He’s too deep. It’s too close. Everything is seeping out and the darkness is creeping in from around him to replace what was there inside, pushing him out, further away, reaching for even the spark that always burns. His cells can repair themselves, but as quick as they do, his body recognizes the lack of oxygen and they break down again. Visions dance before him, whispers slide through his brain and ghosts’ mouths open with sharp teeth, gnashing through memory, dream and hope.
* * *
( He watches him, his conscience, as he sleeps next to the man he barely remembers being in an inn outside a village whose name he's long since forgotten. )
ooc: All dialogue from "Out of Time" and "Powerless"
