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takeiteasypeasybaby · 4 years

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Save Me: Chapter 21 - You Loved Me

~Hey Guys! Chapter 21 is out ❤️ Molly and Negan come to terms with their separation while conflict with Rick escalates...I hope you all enjoy and chapter 22 will be out on Wednesday! Love you all and stay safe 🤟🏻~

Molly and Negan are overwhelmed by their memories of each other as they both face difficulties since their separation, both of them wrangling with their 'weakness'.

Negan's POV//

'I swear to fuck, if you don't hurry the fuck up Doc, I will feed you to Lucille' I yelled in frustration.

He was taking way to fucking long to patch me up.

The bullet hole was clean but I would need stitches, at least she had done me that kindness.

I clenched my jaw at every stitch, every ounce of pain brought her flooding back to me.

Every week, I got checked over by the Doc to see if I was healing right.

But every time he peeled off my bandages, I saw her, she was walking through the main hall, smiling when she looked at me, like an angel.

I had had that vision for many weeks since she left me, always the same and every time I ran to her she vanished.

When did I become so soft? Was it her? Did she do this to me?

I scowled as I dazed, Carson now frantically finishing up with my wound.

'All done sir' he said meekly, this snapped me back into the present.

Simon now stood in the doorway, 'Negan, we're going on a supply run today. We can find Molly for ya?' he said confidently.

'No, it's a waste of time. We have to focus, because Rick, the Widow and Dreds are teaming up. So, I think it's time we pay another visit' I said smiling at him.

He scowled at my response, 'There's another thing...the girl who broke in last week, what's the plan?' he said.

'She's got guts, I like that. Keep her alive, she's valuable' I replied sternly.

He started to turn around when I stopped him, 'Oh and Si, I'm now in need of a new right-hand man' I said sternly.

'It would be an honour sir' he replied.

I faux smirked at him as he nodded and walked away.

Simon's POV//

I nodded curtly at his response. He's weak.

I walked out of Carson's office and headed down to the main hall to gather up some guys.

Fuck his plan, it's time we had real leadership.

I grabbed Keith and told him to instruct the other guys that Negan wanted them to find Molly and kill her or they would be killed.

He nodded nervously and marched hastily over to the other guys who were in agreement.

She was a threat to all of us, everything we had built. Everything I had built.

I wasn't gonna let that bitch ruin what I had.

She made Negan weak and as long as she was dead, I would be safe.

I had everything back in my grasp.

Molly's POV//

The bike had ran out of gas, so now I had to go on foot.

My thigh still ached, but I had found a house a while back which had a needle and thread which I used to sow up the wound.

I now walked through seemingly endless fields, I couldn't see anymore houses and I was low on canned food.

Suddenly out of the trees came four walkers, all snarling and leering towards me.

I felt no fear, in fact it felt strangely comforting to be back to my normal.

I grabbed my knives out of their cases and waited for the walkers to come closer.

I stabbed one in the head, while another came round to my side.

I ducked and tripped it over and plunged my knife into its skull.

I pushed the other one onto the other, they fell backwards against a tree.

Slashing my knife at their skulls, which were lined up and it plunged through both of them.

It hadn't hit me until all of them lay there, lifeless on the grass that waves of guilt and sorrow swarmed through my body.

I broke down, my knees weakening as I fell to the ground.

I could barely breathe, visions and memories of Glenn and Abraham invaded my mind.

I had never felt like this, weak and vulnerable. He had made me weak.

I grasped at my chest to steady my breathing, when my hand made contact with the metal chain around my neck.

My locket, I turned it over to reveal my initials M.C.

I thought of Tara instantly, I couldn't give up or lose faith. That place had weakened me but not broken me.

I smiled weakly as I thought of her, tears rolling down my face. I sighed deeply as the sun started to set. I needed to find shelter.

So, I carried on.

I walked for hours, until I decided to stop next to a tree.

I was weary, my energy draining out of me as I slid my back down against the tree, sinking to the ground.

There was no one around me so I rested my eyes for a few seconds.

I drifted in and out of consciousness when I heard a faint snarl coming from behind me.

When the realisation hit, my eyes opened wide as I spun around to see a walker lurching over me.

It gargled and snarled and fell on top of me as I struggled underneath.

I held it just off my face as it snapped at my cheek, its arms trying to claw at my neck.

As I tackled it and threw it off me, I straddled it and reached for my knife.

It grabbed at my necklace which was dangling in front of me as I stabbed it in its head.

I grabbed my rucksack and ran seeing a hoard of walkers approach from out of the trees.

Not even realising that I had lost my locket.

I walked a couple more miles until I saw a small village in the distance. My heart lifted.

Thank god, I thought.

All the shops and houses looked virtually empty, I doubted that there would be any useful supplies but it was safer to be inside at night.

I picked the closest one, it was the smallest beige one so it probably had less stuff but also less walkers inside.

I peeled open the door, keeping my gun steadily in my hand. I checked over every room, including upstairs.

Nothing. No walkers in sight and a cupboard with a few cans of dog food.

Memories of that cell came flooding in. I shuck it off and opened one.

I struggled to keep it down but it was better than starving.

There were papers everywhere, with torn sheets and cracks in the windows.

I placed my rucksack under my head and curled myself up.

Tears rolled down my face as I thought about him.

His warm soft bed, cuddling up with him. It felt like someone had torn out my heart.

I pushed those thoughts out of my head when I thought of Maggie. This was my fault.

What if I had said something which made him kill them? What if I was nicer to him in the beginning? I couldn't face her.

I wanted to be there to comfort her, but how could I knowing what I did?

Maybe I couldn't go back home. Maybe I never would.

A couple days later...

Negan's POV//

'All points are covered. Every contingency is already met. I come armed with two barrels of the truth. A test is upon you, and I'm giving out a cheat sheet' Eugene bellowed into a megaphone as we rolled up.

Eugene spoke to Rick first.

'H-Hello, I come salved with the hope that it is my dropped knowledge that you heed. Options are zero to none. Compliance and fealty are your only escape. Bottom lining it, you may thrive, or you may die' Eugene continued.

I sat back, scanning the people at the gates. Tara was there, but not her.

'Where's Negan' Rick yelled.

'I'm Negan' he said worriedly. I smirked at his loyalty.

Rick ducked down suddenly, they tried to fucking blow us up!

Rick tried to reach for his gun but the trash people beat them to it. They had betrayed them for us.

They opened the gates and I stepped out with Simon and the others.

I smirked at Eugene and flung an arm around him. My boy!

I stepped out in front of Rick, smiling at him.

'You ever hear the one about a stupid little prick named Rick, who thought he knew shit but didn't know shit, and got everyone he gave a shit about killed?' I yelled.

I pointed at him saying 'it's about you Rick!'

'You're all gonna wanna put your guns down now' I said sternly.

I still scanned over all of them, checking to see if she was there. What if she hadn't made it?

'No one drops anything' Rick said weakly.

'We had a deal' Rick whispered to Jadis, 'Tamil came for the boat things. Followed ones who took. Made a better deal' she replied.

I'd tried so fucking hard to save them and this is how he repays me?!

'You push me, and you push me and you push me Rick! You just tried to blow us up right? I mean I get me, my people. But Eugene? He's one of yours, and after what he did - he stepped up' I bellowed.

'You people...are animals, universe gives you a sign and you just shove your finger right up its ass!' I said while flipping off Rick.

Daryl glared at Dwight.

'Dwight, Simon, chop chop' I shouted pointing at the crate. They went over immediately and unwrapped it.

Oh boy did they have a surprise coming! They would be getting back one of their own!

They brought out the coffin and placed it upright. I looked over to see Tara, she must have thought it was Molly.

I scowled at her memory.

'So you don't like Eugene anymore. You guys gotta like Sasha! I do too' I said smiling and tapping on the coffin with Lucille.

'Got her right here, packaged for your convenience, alive and well. Now I brought her, so I wouldn't have to kill all of you, and not killing all of you could get complicated. See, I know theres a lot of firepower left in there Rick! So I'm gonna make this simple, I want all the guns you've managed to scrape up' I smiled at him.

Then scowled at his brief upper-hand, 'yep, I know about those too'.

'I want every last grain of lemonade you got left', I continued, just wanting an excuse to see if Molly was in one of those houses.

'I want a person, of your own choosing for Lucille!' I said as I pointed to her.

They now looked scared shitless.

'Daryl, ooh I gotta get my Daryl back!' I said looking at him and smirking.

How in the hell did that prick even escape?

'I see you' I said smirking while pointing to him. That would break Rick even more.

'The pool table and all the pool cues and the chalk, and I want it now or Sasha dies! Then all of you...probably' I said standing next to the coffin.

Rick was silent still.

'C'mon Rick, just because I brought her in a casket doesn't mean she has to leave in it' I said.

He didn't respond.

For fuck sake. I sighed and rubbed my forehead in frustration.

Molly already hated me, she would hate me even more if I killed anyone else. But I couldn't be weak.

'You know what? You suck ass Rick, you really do. I don't wanna have to kill her, but thats exactly what you're gonna make me do' I yelled.

Rick stepped forward, 'let me see her' he replied calmly.

'Alright, just give me a second. I might have to get her up to speed. Can't hear shit inside this thing' I replied.

I whacked Lucille against it, 'Sash, you're not gonna believe this crap' I said as I opened the door slowly.

She growled and snarled at me as she came out.

'Holy goddamn!' I said as she pushed me off the truck. She fucking killed herself.

I heard gunfire all around me.

They were taking out the trash people and some of mine.

'Ah, honey. Goddamn it!' I said as I struggled to get her off of me. She snapped and tried to bite at my face.

Jeff managed to pull her off of me but got bit in the process.

So, I grabbed Simon and retreated behind the truck.

'Ahhhh! Plan B it is!' I said as the trash people managed to wound Rick as I grabbed Carl.

I didn't want to do this, he had potential.

I knelt him down as my guys surrounded him. Jadis brought Rick over to me.

'Hello again' I said as I took Lucille from Dwight. Jadis made him kneel next to the boy.

'Well, shit Rick. You just couldn't stick with us, huh?' I said slightly amused at his efforts.

'You had to go with these filthy garbage people? No offence' I said now looking at Jadis.

'Deal is for twelve, yes?' she said.

'Ten. People are a resource' I replied.

'Twelve' she argued, she reminded me of Molly. But she wasn't.

'Ten' she conceded. I smirked at her subservience.

I sighed, 'Rick. This is just gonna make you sad. Broken. You're gonna wish you we're dead. I like having fun, I do. Maybe you think that the guy who did what he did to your friends wasn't me, like that was some sort of a put-on' I said, now moving round to Carl.

A part of me wished that wasn't me.

'Oh shit. Maybe this is on me. Maybe this is all on me. I gotta make it right. I guess I gotta start all over again' I said sternly, now looking at Carl.

'I gotta tell you Rick, if I had a kid, I'd want him to be just like your kid', sadness twinged in my gut as I said that.

'You're not gonna win' Carl said looking up at me, 'Carl, It is over' I said warningly.

'Why don't you point your one ball up the street and take it all in? I said crouching beside him.

Suddenly, there came a scream as a woman fell off one of the buildings. The look on Rick's face, he must have known her.

'Oh, wow. You just lost somebody important to you, like just now. Jesus, that is timing' I said crouching now in front of Rick.

He was shaking and tearing up.

'Well, Rick...you chose this. I truly don't know what more I could've done to warn you. This isn't a warning, this is punishment. I'm gonna kill Carl now' I said scowling at him.

'I'm gonna make it one nice hard swing because I like him. I just want you to put that in your brain and roll it around for a minute. I'm gonna kill Carl, and then, Lucille here, she's gonna take your hands' I said holding her up in front of his face.

He looked unaffected by what I just said.

'You can do it right in front of me, you can take my hands. I told you already, I'm gonna kill you, all of you. Nothing is gonna change that, nothing. You're all already dead' he whispered in my ear.

I scowled at him harder now. He had guts, I'd give him that.

I started to smile and then chuckle at his threat.

'Wow, damn Rick. Okay' I said as I got up and went round to Carl.

I plucked off his hat and swung Lucille into the air, saying 'you said I could do it!'.

Suddenly, a tiger jumped out and wrestled one of my men to the ground, killing him.

A fucking tiger!

I flung myself backwards and retreated away from it. Gunfire now ensuing.

Simon and Dwight followed me as people from the Kingdom came in on horses, including the Widow.

'End these Saviours and there accomplices! Alexandria will not fall, not on this day!' The one with the dreds shouted.

Fuck, we we're outnumbered!

We moved round to behind a car, 'they've got a goddamn tiger!' I shouted as I pelted them with bullets.

'You taste that Simon? That is the taste of shit' I said as I ran out of ammo and ran round to another car.

We needed to retreat.

The trash guys set off smoke bombs so we could escape. We climbed into the truck and drove out of the gate as I flipped Rick off in the mirror.

Once we got back, everyone was on high alert.

'You say the word and we're ready to go' Dwight said nervously, I just looked out of the window onto the courtyard.

Looking at the spots where Molly used to stand. My eyes started to well up thinking about her.

'That's good' I replied.

Eugene was still standing behind me. I spun around and pointed Lucille at him.

'How the hell do you think she wound up dead in that box?' I said angrily.

'My, um best possible posit fingers the tarp. That sealed up said box good and tight. She ran out of air' he said with sadness in his voice.

I was sceptical. I walked towards him, my eyes still glistening.

'Maybe' I said looking over him.

I sighed and turned around to walk out onto the balcony.

'So...we are going to war!' I shouted to my people who were cheering below me.

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charlemange1 · 4 years

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Ask of the Lesser (Frankenstein/Lovecraft Works): 1 Paradise Lost

“I say to you againe, doe not call up Any that you can not put downe; by the Which I meane, Any that can in Turne call up somewhat against you, whereby your Powerfullest Devices may not be of use. Ask of the Lesser, lest the Greater shall not wish to Answer, and shall commande more than you.”

—The Case of Charles Dexter Ward

“…did I solicit thee

From darkness to promote me?”

—Paradise Lost

Some folks are born destined for greatness. Others live content in ignorant mediocrity, never knowing what could have been. Then there is me. Born into wealth, but barred from inheritance. Raised to be great, but crippled from illness. Dinning amidst kings and counselors, yet ever aware of that unseen barrier separating me from them. Was that not my first memory? My brother halfway out the door, glancing back to remind me I was too little to follow. Too weak. Left behind while he set out to make a name for himself. A name that has haunted me long after fleeing Geneva.

“But I am alive,” I whispered. Whether it was to my drink or the cockroach circling its rim, I could not say. Usually I could handle the memories, but tonight was the four-year anniversary of my brother’s death, and by God I longed to forget amidst this shabby tavern.

Taking another swig, I half listened to the men behind my lonely table clank mugs and bet on who was the lowest on Fortuna’s wheel. Their strange accents branded them fellow refugees.

“The revolutionaries ransacked the whole farm!”

“Well, the bloody peasants welcomed Napoleon in my city! I had to flee with only the clothes on my back. You know how the French handled their own revolution. Can you top that, mates?”

My heart ached for these poor souls. Seeking connection through tragedy, I tipped my chair back to face them.

“Illness struck my mama down when I was a boy,” I said.

“Did it?” The grit on the central speaker’s face cracked beneath a mocking smile.

“Yes, and our trusted family maid strangled my little brother. Shortly afterwards a good friend was murdered abroad, and my dear cousin’s neck was snapped on her wedding night. The pain of it drove my papa to an early grave and my surviving brother insane. The servants thought our family cursed and fled, and I followed suit when the riots escalated.”

Silence fell over the already solemn tavern. A few men on the sidelines glanced up.

“I’ll be dammed,” someone called. “We can toast to that! To…”

“Ernest,” I raised my glass, holding back a cough. “Ernest Frankenstein.”

The tavern chanted my name with a bitterness only hardened refugees could master. Many of them had likely been noblemen or magistrates, all pointless titles once the fever of revolution had gripped the masses. The upper class had been blamed for every economic and social injustice, and in the fires of vengeance, not even my deceased parent’s philanthropy had saved the Frankenstein villa from rioters.

From the lakefront I had watched the flames devour my past, present, and foolishly assumed future dwelling. I would compare it to Adam and Eve’s expulsion from Paradise, but they at least had one another. What had I? A few hastily gathered heirlooms and happy memories trapped inside coffins? Wretched world! Paradise was lost to me the day Captain Walton presented my last family tie in a casket. He had found Victor half-frozen in the Arctic, chasing imagined monsters he blamed for the misfortune that plagued us. My poor, hysteric brother! I downed the rest of my drink, so much for burying bad memories. As I tried (and failed) to get that miserable captain from my mind, I pulled a few silver francs from my pocket. I would last three months, best. The only heirloom I had not bartered for bread was Victor’s pocket journal, and I doubted the ravings of a madman would fetch a high price. Taking my cane, I started toward the splintering door. A little girl dashed in front of me and I clutched the counter to steady myself. She pranced to the bartender and tugged on his pant leg with tiny hands. The patches on her dress were the same fabric as his pants—his daughter no doubt.

“My apologies,” the bartender bowed to me while shaking off the girl. “Turn away for an instant and the children wreak havoc!”

“You are fine,” I nodded. The girl held an empty bowl in her sooty fingers. William had been around her age when Elizabeth and I had first taken him to the lake to catch crawdads. The memory made me smile, and I dropped a few francs on the counter as I passed. “Feed your family.”

Two months now, but I would manage. A tall gentleman with arms crossed over his half-buttoned coat opened the door for me, and I thanked him before stepping onto the dirt road. The moonlight enveloped the surrounding forest in dancing silver. If I walked all night, I could arrive in the next town by morning, presuming my legs could carry me that far. The sooner Ingolstadt was behind me, the better.

A multitude of steps thundered after me. Biting my lip, I continued onward.

“Pardon me, Monsieur Frankenstein.”

There was venom in those words. I turned to face the group of three, recognizing the badly buttoned coat of the man in front who had held the door. I had not anticipated such a broken-down tavern housing learned readers. It seemed that in times of war even the mighty seek to forget the world.

“I presume you have read that captain’s so-called biography of my brother?” I interrupted the expected affirmative. “You should know that Victor was aliéné, completely insane.”

“Graverobbing will do that to a man,” Button Boy’s meaty fingers flexed. “As will lurking around God’s domain doing the devil’s work!”

The absence of people in the streets was not lost on me. Most people had wisely laughed Walton’s narrative off as a madman’s rambles, but others saw their deepest fears galvanized within Victor’s delusions. Thrusting their terrors of a quickly modernizing world onto who they saw as the ultimate embodiment of progression gone wrong. They had taken fiction for fact, and once they made the connection between him and I, well…

“Tell me, Ernest, are you aware of the concept of the hereditary taint?”

“Oh my, I just realized that I have important business elsewhere,” I backed away and thumped against solid muscle. Fingers gripped my boney shoulders as a hoarse voice whispered into my ear.

“It is the belief that characteristics are passed from parent to offspring.”

“Interesting. A fine theory to consider while being on my way…”

Button Boy took a bold step forward. “Characteristics like madness, for example, taint the entire family. It is only a matter of time before they all go the same way.”

Victor’s journal weighed heavy in my pocket.

“Good sirs, I fear you are mistaken,” I said, straining my neck to the man restricting me. “I have been an invalid since boyhood. These bones are incapable of mimicking my elder brother. If you hold that biography so dear, you would know that I had no say in his monster’s creation!”

“Perhaps.”

The tone was not reassuring.

“I am not my brother,” I jerked around but the hands easily held me. “Release me! Or I-”

Button Boy stuffed a rag between my teeth to stifle my pointless threats. What could I have said? That wounding me would have them tried by my high standing dead father and jailed by my dead country? You have nothing, Ernest. You are nothing now!

The exhaustion in my heart made my pitiful thrashing falter. My head fell against my attacker’s solid chest, soaking the shirt with sweat. If this was the climax to nineteen long years of suffering, why had I been born at all? What was your intent, Lord?

“This is for the good of humanity,” Button Boy leaned in close. Had William also stared into the eyes of his killer? What were his final thoughts as the maid he loved choked the life from his little body? Fingers gripped my throat and I gagged.

A shout came from somewhere, though my world had shrunk to those two murderous eyes. Out of the night, a fist punched Button Boy’s head with a force that broke his grip. I gurgled a choked gasp and collapsed on the road as the man behind me fled toward the trees. Light and dark wrestled for my vision as shouts and sounds of flesh on flesh erupted nearby. A new man whose blond curls drooped from wet sweat wrestled with Button Boy. Though Button Boy boasted a greater strength, his slim opponent easily dodged his fists and hit back with the skill of a man well-versed in human anatomy. Button Boy leaped up to strike the stranger’s face, but the taller man easily knocked his fist aside and punched his jaw with a force that sent him reeling. Button Boy clutched his mouth as he rushed off, dodging bottles the tavern hurled after him. The blond watched his escape with icy eyes before walking over to me.

“Is the boy injured?” the bartender called from the doorstep.

“Slightly stunned, but he will recover. I shall tend to him,” the stranger called back with enough confidence to convince the onlookers to file back inside the tavern. Better to avoid conflict than catch the eye of the wrong people.

“Can you walk, Monsieur?” the stranger asked with a poorly disguised American accent. He plucked my cane from the ground and handed it to me as I staggered to my feet.

“I am fine. Thank you, kind sir. Who knows what ditch I would be in now, had you not arrived,” I shuttered, extending my hand that he shook with the upmost class. A peculiar odor clung to him that I had never smelt before.

“Anything for a Frankenstein.”

Our hands dropped and I tried to cover a bad tear on my pants. “I take it you knew Papa, in better days.”

Better days. When my parents regularly welcomed renowned scholars to our villa. Justine had kept little William and I occupied while they discussed politics and theory. My throat burned from more than the aftertaste of cheap brandy. Justine. How could we have known what she was capable of?

“I never had the privilege to meet your father,” the stranger shuffled his shoe in the dirt. The moonlight reflected the fine quality of it. “Though Victor told me he was quite distinguished in your republic.”

My head lifted. “You knew my brother?”

“We shared several classes here at Ingolstadt,” the stranger explained. He looked to be in his late 20’s, what Victor would be now, had he lived. “Victor must have mentioned the name Joseph Curwen in passing? I was his chief competition.”

“I am afraid your name is new to me, Mr. Curwen,” I admitted. “From what I could gather, Victor would forget this place if he could. He guarded his secrets, I fear.”

“To a fault,” Curwen muttered. “It is a great shame. Your brother was a genius. Truly the Modern Prometheus of this age!”

“A fitting name,” I muttered. “Eagles feasting on your liver day after day would make even the greatest man go insane.”

“I heard he passed away, if this is to be believed.” Curwen pulled a book from his satchel. Even in the low light, I recognized Walton’s publication. “A great loss for humanity, to lose a mind as cultivated as his. It is quite the coincidence that I should meet you, Ernest, I was on my way to visit his grave and pay my deepest respects.”

Poor man! I owed him the truth, horrid though it was. “I am so sorry, Mr. Curwen, but Napoleon runs Geneva now. The Frankenstein tomb could be desecrated for all I know.”

“But not destroyed. It would be there in some form, correct?” Curwen’s voice fell to a whisper and I shuttered despite the warm breeze. “You would know your native land better than I. Could you take me to your brother?”

“Suicide,” I stumbled backward. Having just escaped death, I had no intent on testing my luck.

“I shall make it worth your while,” Curwen returned the book to his satchel and pulled out a piece of strange jewelry. It looked to be a tiara, though the patterns etched on its front held an unearthly splendor unlike any I had seen from Europe. The moonlight sent the golden coat sparkling, though the reflection suggested some foreign alloy.

“What metal is that?”

“One that will fetch a fine price,” Curwen winked and tossed me the tiara. I scrambled to catch it in time. “Us merchants have our secrets too.”

I tipped the headpiece back and forth, ever aware of the loose change rattling in my pocket.

“Please Ernest, merchantry may be my occupation, but respect for the dead is my duty,” Curwen gave a dramatic bow, perhaps an American attempt at being cordial? The habits of foreigners were largely unknown to me, when they visited our villa, Victor’s company was understandably preferred to mine. Yet hearing this stranger speak of my infamous brother so fondly was a gift in and of itself, and, I reminded myself, he had saved my life.

“I cannot promise you results, Mr. Curwen, but for the sake of my brother I will assist you as best I can.”

Curwen shook my hand again, how I missed such kind contact! “It would be much appreciated, Monsieur. We shall embark tomorrow. Until then, you must rest at my residence.”

“Really?” It was as though I were a human and not an assumed madman’s relative or corrupt aristocrat!

“For Victor’s brother, it is the least I can do,” Curwen turned from the tavern. “Come now, the university is nearby.”

“University?” my cane plunked in the dirt. “You cannot mean Ingolstadt University?”

“Where else?”

“But they closed earlier this year! From financial troubles, if I recall?”

“Which makes it the perfect abode to rest in peace,” Curwen chuckled, as though the last bit were humorous. “I assure you it is safe. The few remaining stragglers fled when the French invaded.”

Break in? Did this man consider me a criminal? Closing my eyes, I reminded myself that I was not much anymore, us invalids had to take what we could. Without Papa’s cushion of wealth, the sooner I accepted that reality the better.

“Alright, as long as no one will mind.”

Curwen and I made quick work of sneaking past the dark neighborhoods and French watchposts to the university’s outer gates. The night enveloped the massive buildings within to leave them warped pillars of shadow. I had kept away from this place for good reason. On this very campus those shadows had sprung and consumed my brother, spitting out the shaking husk that arrived home for William’s funeral. Curwen opened the unlocked gates effortlessly. There was no creaking, as though dark forces meant to fool us. The air weighed thick in my lungs.

“Come along, Ernest. Thankfully, I took the initiative to drag a few sofas into the library for my leisure. You may rest there.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. I stayed close to Curwen as he led me by torchlight inside one of the buildings and down several stone corridors that seemed to stretch forever. Finally, he stopped by a warped wooden door that opened to reveal shelves upon shelves of books lining the cobbled walls. Several piles of tossed volumes lay scattered from the hastily abandoned move.

Curwen chuckled as he stepped inside and began lighting the mounted torches.

“Does something humor you, Mr. Curwen?”

“I was thinking of your brother,” he said. “This library would close after dark, but Victor was never the type to grovel at authority. We would alternate between causing distractions so the other could sneak in and study! I presume he roped you into similar mischief, did he not?”

Curwen stopped by a cluttered desk and quickly placed several of the open books into his satchel. I seized the moment and blotted my runny nose with my coat-sleeve.

“No, I was Victor’s junior by seven years. I am afraid he never did much with me at all.” I could still see Victor’s sneer as he left for university so soon after Mama’s death. Free from his weak, invalid baby brother. “Did he mention me much?”

Curwen continued lighting torches with his back to me. “Victor kept his home and work life in private corridors. You likely noticed that in his letters!”

“He never wrote home,” my shoulders fell. “Not once.”

“Do not take it personally. Men of Victor’s caliber often find themselves so caught up in their work that the real-world slips by.”

“What sort of work?” I questioned, watching Curwen place another book in his satchel before buttoning it shut. “Mr. Curwen, surely you do not believe Walton’s lies?”

Curwen paused, choosing what to say. Victor had done that too. Shifting through information, pulling out the choice details.

“He worked in the sciences. Victor was a genius, as you know,” Curwen walked out the door with a nod. “Now rest, Ernest. We shall start for Geneva tomorrow.”

The door shut and I was left alone in the disorganized room. I picked up a badly bent copy of A Vindication on the Rights of Women and returned it to the shelf. Reading had never come easy to me like with Victor. I was still a child when my parents had abandoned their academic aspirations for me and left me to my own devices. A fine thing for a young boy, perhaps that was why I had found Victor’s insistence of making a scholar out of me so tiresome. He had appointed himself as my principal instructor, and not even Elizabeth’s sweet voice pointing out the obvious had swayed him…

“Ernest lacks the constitution for these theorems and formulas, cousin. He ought to strive for a more peaceful occupation, such as a farmer,” she said, almost pleading.

“Nonsense,” Victor muttered. He pushed another book in front of me, as though my confusion would be overpowered by his desire alone. “He is more than capable of being a lawyer, or a judge like Father. If he would just apply himself!”

“Victor,” her voice grew quiet. I still heard her. “You know his mind is incapable of severe application.”

“Well, I do not care for boring books,” I jumped up and Victor’s handwritten lessons scattered. “Or being a boring farmer! I will be a great soldier, fighting off vicious invaders and going on adventures!”

Victor and Elizabeth had shared a look. I did not understand at the time, but even back then they knew my limits. My weak frame could never survive the grueling life of a soldier. The trappings of my flesh outweighed my dream. I abandoned such fantasies soon enough. Probably for the best, there was no longer a Geneva to fight for anyways.

“But you are sleeping on silk tonight,” I lectured my inner demons while brushing dust from an old sofa. “And fate has been kind enough to gift you a companion! I am no longer alone, there is much to be thankful for tonight.”

Warmth spread through me as I sunk into the cushions. Curwen needed me, and as the torchlight shadows danced on the ceiling my thoughts left the past to focus on how I might aid the generous American in the future. My mind was at peace, though sleep eluded me as I slipped in and out of consciousness. It must have, for the shapes within those swaying shadows had no place in the waking world! A ball of sprawling tentacles flickered forward and back in some wicked séance while very human shapes danced around it to an unheard beat before crumbling to dust. Those horrible shadow tentacles licked up the dancers’ remains with an eagerness that paralyzed my limbs from silent terror. Then the tentacles leaked down the library walls to consume me just as the knowledge stored here had devoured Victor.

The next morning, a voice speaking in an unknown tongue shattered the nightmare. Curwen stood over me expectantly, speaking that same foreign language again with raised eyebrows.

“I take it you do not speak English?”

“No,” I yawned, rubbing my eyes to hide growing shame.

“I apologize, your brother was fluent—”

“I am not my brother,” I curled my trembling fingers around my cane. We could talk after leaving these cursed grounds behind! “But I can take you to him.”

NOTES:

Of all the characters in Frankenstein, few have been slighted as much as Ernest. He switches from sickly invalid farmer in the 1818 version to aspiring soldier in 1831, but despite losing just as much as Victor, he gets brushed to the sidelines by the end. The aftermath of the insignificant sole survivor of the Frankenstein house is just too good to not explore, and who better encapsulates the insignificance of us lonely humans more than the works of H. P. Lovecraft? Or amplifies it more than the disastrous French Revolution sweeping across Europe around the same time the events of Frankenstein take place? Considering Joseph Curwen spent nine years abroad in Europe studying dark arts, including necromancy and graverobbing, it didn’t seem like much of a stretch to write this crossover.

Scholars typically place the events of Frankenstein’s in the 1790’s, so for this adaptation I have Victor dying in 1798 and Ernest fleeing shortly after when the peasant riots in Geneva were escalating in want of reform. Since Curwen was stated to be killed in 1771, I have bumped up the events of Dexter Ward to overlap with the timeline of Frankenstein. This crossover serves as a prequal to Dexter Ward and sequel to Frankenstein, taking place in 1801, after Ingolstadt closed in the real world amidst financial troubles/French Revolution as well as near the tail end of Curwen’s nine years abroad in Europe, as stated in Dexter Ward.

Please comment and let me know what you think! ^^

#ernest frankenstein #victor frankenstein #Frankenstein #frankenstein fanfiction #lovecraft #lovecraft fanfiction #joseph curwen #the case of charles dexter ward #classic literature #mary shelley #hp lovecraft

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thenixkat · 5 years

Text

Animorphs notes: Megamorphs 2

Megamorphs 2

Marco 1

Saw something on the news and mentioned it to the others leading to everyone in a storm trying to breathe in dolphin morph

Of course its not like sharks need to breath air and might be better in some cases

Marco uses humor to cope

Rainy day

So why are the animorphs getting involved with a sunken nuclear sub?

Marco wants to go out of his way to save people again.

Him and Rachel are like the most likely on the team to become superheros

Or they could put their stuff in a bag and bury it on the beach instead of putting things in the trash?

How exactly do these guys plan on rescuing people?

Cassie 1

Everybody morphs dolphin

They find the sub

Jake 1

Ah yes the plan to kidnap an officer. Totally would have no negative reprocussions

Can’t just act in a weird and obvious manner to direct people to the sub

Sometimes dolphins help people, sometimes dolphins kill people. Its a rulette game as to whichever a dolphin is more interested in at the moment

The writter makes a comment on war and nukes

A nuke goes off and instead of being vaporised by the light the kids get transported through time and space for some reason

Rachel 1

One of these days a kid is gonna get trapped in morph when they’re uncoincious

Cassie’s the only one who had any injuries from the fucking nuke going off

Why is there a volcano over there? There shouldn’t be volcanoes where they are

Rachel watches the Magic Schoolbus

That’s not how plesiosaurs work and you could never mistake them for a whale even with sonar

Ax is smug about those not being whales

Tobias 1

Why the hell are fucking plesiosaurs intered in them in the first place?

Tobias got vored by something big enough to swallow a 10ft at least dolphin whole

This is causing me pain

Rachel got vored by something that can fit 2 ten or so foot dolphins inside its stomach

Looked it up and yeah no, plesiosaurs were def known to not have flexible necks by the time this was written

No that can’t be an ichthyosaur b/c they’re gone by this point in the Cretaceous and the on ly ones that big were likely FILTER FUCKING FEEDERS

Random ass gulper eel dolphin sea monster

Rachel decides that morphing is the best idea in the stomach

Tobias morphs too

Jake 2

Ax doesnt get to have a turn yet what a surprise

Cassie says they should try to rescue Rachel and Tobias, Jake says thats a fucking dumb idea and he’s right

Jake is pissed at people getting themselves eaten and Cassie coming up with dumb fucking idea

There should actually be some seagull like dinosaurs but I think those were discovered much later than these were written

Kids finally put 2 and 2 together and realized that they aint in Kansas anymore

They havent actually put togther the gone back in time bit yet

Jake and the writer seem to be under the impression that dolphins have no natural defenses

They are almost there in realizing what happened

Cassie 2

Still no fucking Ax narration

THESE KIDS ARE REALLY FUCKING DUMB

Sauropods did not leave elephant like foot prints. At all

Nope not figured it out yet

Cassie, you should know that whales can’t swallow whole full gown dolphins

Cassie almost gets eaten by a crocodilian and these kids still haven’t fucking figured it out

Wait a minute. Grass doesn’t exist in this time period

Also Cassie should know better. Herbivores can and will fuck you up with little provication

They finally figured it out

I see we have movie monster Tyrannosaurs

Rachel 2

Wow Ax really doesnt have any rights does he?

...that’s not how anatomy

Bears are not herder to digest than dolphins

This is hurting ,me

Tobias everything you said aside from the hadrosaurs was pure bullshit

Rachel thinks the dinosaur angle is rediculous

Tobias 2

Tobias you have a fucking hork-bajir morph you utter dumbass

Wow Tobias is bad at morphing, he can’t even get rid of his injuries

Tobias gets to be extra useless and cause Rac hel pain by haveing to perch on her

Grass doesnt exist in this time period

There was a gradual decline in the late Cretaceous of nonavien dinosaurs, the asteroid was the last nail in the coffin

T. rex was just another animal not not much more dangerous than say a lion, just bigger

Marco 2

Ax doesnt get to narrate I guess

There is no reason for the tyrannosaur to be chasing them it just made a fucking kill

They aren’t even the right size to be worth the fucking effort either

Marco almost gets eaten and is saved by Ax who papercuts the thing to death

Ax 1

Yeaaaah Ax vs Tyrannosaur should not end in victory for Ax

I flatout don’t belive this rediculousness and my suspension of disbelife died several chapters ago

Ax is fucking shook that worked

Ok good Ax was very very fucking lucky that worked and not gonna try that again

No, Ax, no that is not scientificly possible b/c theres no fucking dna in the fucking fossiles they are bone and other shit shaped rocks

When the fuck did Cassie get any survival skills? Did she decide to brush up after the Karen incident

Well we have ‘I will survive this with or without you’!Cassie today

Yall could actually morph Ax and have your own andalite tails. Or fucking morph hork-bajir

Rachel 3

Grass still doesnt exist yet

At no point did rachel think to escue some modesty and make wraps for her feet

Rachel suggests that Tobias morph human, even perminatly

He is very shit at morphing

I guess he expects that he’s got days to live as a wounded bird over anything else he could fucking morph

Rachel refuses to fucking make it known that she’s suffering

In what fucking world does that description matach a triceratops

Also deinonychus, not around at the end of the cretaceous

Deinonychus is about almost 3 ft tall at hip and a ft longer than that

Naked ass ones at that

Them going after them at least makes sense

Cassie 3

Camping and eating tyrannosaur meat

Gonna sleep in shifts

People keep forgetting that they have hork-bajir morphs which are amazing and also that they could just aquire Ax

Tobias 3

Nothing about the majority of large dromaeosaurs suggests that they’re fast. The opposite actually. Ambush predators not chasers.

Tobias and Rachel split up

Tobias and the writers forgot about wing assisted incline running and the fact that raptors can fucking climb if the have to

Tobias drops on one and aquires it

Tobias 4?

This is going with the not-dynonicus being diurnal for some reason

Tobias lost control of the morph and will probably attack Rachel

Jake 3

The rock that was the final nail for the dinos is estableshed bvery firmly\

Stampede

And a nother tyrannosaur

Jake trips and falls when it matters most

Rachel 4

Tobias is really serious about not identifying as human

Rachel tries to reach him over smashing the lead raptor

Jake 4

Jake gets vored by the tyrannosaur whole even tho it was already eating bigger more interesting prey

Jake aquires the thing and starts morphing imediately

That tyrannosaur broke its fucking tail

Everyone aquires the injured dinosaur

Marco 3

Marcos not happy and everyone misses Rachel

More travel

Ax says the flash of light that started the stampede was artifical

Did Ax just say he can see ultraviolet and infrared

They find an alien city

Tobias 5

Tobias is bitching about Rachel still being mad that he gutted her

Neither of them are healing their injuries for no good reason

Ew, Tobias gross.

Rachel has a raptor morph now

Rachel isn’t a coherent person when hrungy and tired

Why are there coconut trees? They dont exist yet

Rachel eats a not coconut

No. That is not a fucking spinosaurus. Spino is fucking African and didn’t live at the same time as T.rex

Tobias metally calls Rachel stupid

Rachel 5

This is really fucking poorly reserched

And lo an alien:

And that's when I noticed the other creature step smoothly out from the

bushes.

It walked on two legs. It was rough-textured, like it had really chapped

skin. It was reddish in color. It had two big eyes and a small mouth,

all of the same reddish-rust hue. It stood about eight feet tall. It was

carrying a weapon.

The creature gazed curiously at us with what seemed to be eyes, although

they were mere indentations in its face. From its head a pair of

antennae, flexible as whips, grew and began waving toward us.

The alien calls dibs on the dinosaurs and speaks Fucking English

The nesk

The nesk is a pile of antlike creatures

Anmd really Rachel just fucking escalate things to outright violence

Cassie 4

Cassie suggests that they just go see who the aliens are

And that Jake stay behind b/c she doesnt want to loose more people

The alien city:

We flew toward the shining city in the valley. With osprey eyes I could see much more clearly. I saw buildings that rose in steep, smooth sweeps, like they'd grown from the bedrock. Windows were stuck in odd locations, some aiming out, others more like skylights. And there were fields planted with green and arranged in neat circles instead of rows.

The aliens themselves:

As we got closer, I could see creatures of some sort. They looked a little like large - very large - crabs. Only with shells in a wild array of colors, deep blue, spring green, orange. And while on one side there was something very much like a large pincer, on the other side there was a pair of hands.

Crab people

TRhe kids are attacked by naked pterosaurs

Tobias 6

Wow its almost like starting a fight with an unknown party can go wrong

The ship:

The ground beside me exploded, like it had been ripped by an invisible

plow. I jumped. Another plow mark just behind me! I saw movement. And

there, racing toward us across the plain, was a gleaming, silver craft.

Maybe twice the size of a Bug fighter, but shaped like an elongated

pyramid, long end forward.

The nesk herd Rachel and Tobias away from their claimed territory

Ah they’re falling over the cliff of the mercora city

Jake 5

Daring mid air antics and the team is reunited

Also a force field wich is smart\

Ax is tired of having to be the info guy

At least its not a killer forcefield like the kind that yeerks use

The mercora introduce themselves

Ax 2

Ax and his andalite bullshit

More of the mercora:

There were three of the creatures. They moved upon seven legs. Four on

one side, three on the other. To make matters worse, the four

legs were larger than the three. So they scuttled sideways in the

direction of the small legs.

They stood about half the height of a tall human, and seven or eight

feet wide.

On the side with the four big legs, there was a sort of three-way pincer

claw. It looked very powerful. It looked like the sort of thing I would

not want to have to fight against.

On the other side, the weak side, there were two arms similar to my own,

but even stronger than human arms. The arms ended in long, tapered,

delicate fingers.

There were a lot of eyes. They kept opening and shutting, one or two or

three at a time. They were each hidden beneath tiny trap doors in the

Mercora's exoskeleton or shell. Eyes were forever appearing and

disappearing. It was very, very distracting.

Which is a cool design

They talk in thought speak

Just b/c humans in the future don’t know about the mercora doesnt mean they left or were destroy you dumb fucks

Marco 4

The mercora healed Tobias, gave everyone food, a place to stay and even offered to make them soem clothes

The crabs wear clothing or at least make it

And they have force field furniture

Also that’s not how broccli works

Marco makes a vore joke about the mecora

Really Cassie?

The mercora are herbivores

All you have is the mecoras’ word on that and they are in direct conflict with the nesk

And so what if they’re scavengers?

Very rarely but sometimes Cassie has a valid point

Ax 3

Ax is still kinda specist

Hmm I wonder why the mercora aprove? Its not like they can have an alterior motive here

And the mercora are going to help

Ax is very lonely in genera;

Cassie 5

The writers are fucking awesomebros

And they can’t control the morphs

Cassie gets wounded by a ceratopsian

Jake 6

What? We were just with Cassie oh forget it

Jake is suicidally confidant that Cassie wouldn’t eat him

Apparently Jake is right

Cassie freaks out

Ax 3

Tobias keeps being wrong.

The nesk have thought speak detectors

Tobias 7

They group steal an explosive and destroy the nesk ships

Rachel 6

The nesk retaliate very effectively

Ax calls for back up

TRachel throws herself around to draw away fire from the others

The mercora attempt a rescue and loose a ship

Culture:

The Mercora saucer picked us up, us and our little nuke. But they were a

grim, depressed bunch of aliens. It was hard to tell at first. But then

I noticed that each of them was minus one of their smaller legs. There

were just oozing stumps.

"What happened to your legs?" I asked. But even as the words were out of

my mouth, I saw the limbs in the corner. They were laid out on a

brightly colored cloth which was draped over a shelf. There was

something ceremonial about it. Almost religious.

<Can you explain the meaning of this?> Ax asked politely.

<We must make the sacrifice of pain. The legs will regenerate, but those

we honor will not,> the Mercora pilot said. <This is a symbol. It speaks

to our spirit's pain, by echoing it in physical pain.>

"They did this for the Mercora who were in the other ship?" Jake asked.

<For those who were in both ships,> the pilot said. <To be killed is a

sadness. To kill is a sin.>

Jake says the they owe the mercora for saving them

Fuck you Tobias

Tobias 8

Tobias this is premeditated murder

The nesk have decided to leave the earth

The mercora claim that the nesk altered the path of the meteor

They want to use the bomb to save themselves

Cassie 6

Fuck you Tobias

You need to be held accountable for this shit

Its almost like the vast majority of things to ever live never leave any fucking fossils you nit

This bastard is really trying to justify himself like this is anyway defensible

Fuck you Tobias, you get to join Cassie and Jake in the bin of fucking terrible people

Jake 7

Oh what you little bitch babies can’t handle the consequences?

Tobias deserves his unhappines and eventual death

Cassie 7

Cassie at least decides to bear witness to their crime

CVassie saw the time pass

No good reason given why they can’t retain those morphs

Tobias needs to pay for his shit

#nix reads animorphs #animorphs #this was very poorly reserched #and tobias deserves his suffering

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mynightmarecoffeecollection · 5 years

Text

At Least Suffocate Me Like You Love Me

Trigger Warnings: blood, trauma, strangers, suffocation, near death experience, violence, broken bones.

Tell Me I’m Forgiven, Say You’ll Always Be Mine (I.)

Everything was so blurry. So out of place. The burning in my chest felt like it came from something vile, something acidic smacking inside of my throat as I tried to breathe. Almost like choking down rubbing alcohol. I didn’t bother to try to memorize the color or the warmth of the floor. The only thing I could even be bothered with was trying not retch on my unstable hands trying to hold me up. Every drag of my knees and every expulsion of air felt like the moment right before pain would strike. The shortness of breath, the clench of every muscle, the anxiety of waiting for it to be over.

Are you waiting for someone to find you..?

Everything felt as if it was failing. One by one by one. My legs would be the first to give out, my hips finally dropping and cracking against the floor.

Your friends..?

When I started sweating, I’m not sure of. I put so much effort into moving forward yet I never picked my eyes up off the ground. It was almost as if I was letting misguided hope carry me forward into something that would either be my saving grace, or my ultimate demise. Something told me that this wouldn’t end so simply.

Your boyfriend..?

If I could bring myself to make it a few more seconds, I could take a break. It was only moments later I felt myself vomiting, the palms of my hands burning. I couldn’t let this be the end. I couldn’t let this dim lit flooring become the bottom of a coffin I was not ready to lay in.

No one will save you. Not here.

If someone had wanted me dead, then they must have been on some kind of power trip to do it this way. To watch someone struggle and suffocate, it was something you’d only see in those well scripted crime dramas. Yet I was here, living the pain and the burden. I swore to myself that I’d never call myself a victim. With what courage and ill thought I had left, I welled everything up into a burst of energy, wiping my face and picking myself up off the floor to my feet. It was bittersweet. The lights above, as dead as they were; burnt into my eye sockets. My legs failed to work as well as I had liked and my hands scrambled against the wall for something to hold onto.

I wouldn’t dare waste what energy I had on words. Calling for help felt useless and the sentences would just shatter against the walls with failure being the last attachment to my lips. I was climbing a ladder to the unknown. As my vision collected bits and pieces around me, the room finally made sense as a hallway, making my steps seem that much more futile. But a well illuminated door gimmered at the end, like a large exit sign begging for me to come closer. I tried my best to stomach down whatever was clawing inside of me even though I was sure it would kill me before I reached the end. It wasn’t natural like food poisoning. It felt like a bad attempt at murder stirring around inside my intestines as I tried my best to not move my torso much for fear of the feeling escalating once again.

My clammy hands dragged across the aged wallpaper, being the closest thing to a valuable gripped surface within range. As the door grew closer my vision gave out more, almost as if each step blinded me and gave me less to fear. For some reason, I sat in the belief that the less I saw, the less I had to be afraid of. The monochromatic beiges and tans began to blur together, ruining whatever set path I had in mind. My best course of action was to keep moving forward, no matter how many times my body gave up.

I finally felt my shoulder press up against what seemed to be a door frame and scrambled to find the door knob, my exhausted body crumbling and slamming the door against the wall on the inside of the room. It was too well lit for my eyes to stay open so I just kept them closed, my hands still attached to the knob, fearful to let go. My condition gained the better of me once again, my hands quickly moving to my sides, everything that seemed to be inside of me expelling itself. The cold tile was a relief to my burning senses as I didn’t bother to get up, there really was no need. The sound of a murmur surrounded me, reminding me that I still was not safe. Hands suddenly gripped onto my arms and I could feel no bit of resistance. I was too wrapped up in my own situation to care, but my optimism hoped that these beings would save me from an early grave.

Say That Everything Is Over, Tell Me I’m Fine (II.)

Those lights, those fucking lights. They were digging so hard into my corneas that I personally wanted to rip my own eyes out. I could still feel hands, gripped tight onto my arms. They wanted me to stay wherever I was, wherever that was. When I bothered to open my eyes the slightest bit, I regretted even opening the door. I was surrounded by what I perceived to be men with their faces shielded with intricate animal skulls. As their faces tilted and creaked to stare me down, I could feel myself want to trash around, to fight for my own safety. There was no opening though. No space to leap through. If I was to get up from that seat, the masses around me would aggressively put me back in my place. What I failed to realize; I was a doll that a bunch of little boys were about to tear the arms off just to see how it works. The tallest of the group stepped forward, a deer skull with empty eye sockets that replaced any human emotion. He simply put a hand up and the multiple sets of hands died off to only one set, one hand on each of my wrists. I pressed my back against the chair, the heels of my shoes digging into the floor. He leaned forward and the stench of peroxide flooded into my nostrils, aching at my urge to gag once more. I held my stomach back as I searched for some kind of feeling behind the dead animal, to no avail. So I responded in the second best way I knew how: spit on the face of fear.

He didn’t jump or respond quickly, he just resumed his position, standing tall above the rest. His hand dropped and suddenly, my arms were cracked backwards in the goal to touch the wrists of my forward facing palms. I could feel every muscle in my shoulders resisting and pulling, trying to fix what they were breaking. Once they hit stone, they pulled even slower. I couldn’t help but scream, trying my best not to throw myself around in pain. I tried to search my head for some sort of reason. Did the tear stained searching face not already act as a bargaining chip once I tumbled in the room? No, they seemed to want real tears. Real pain. Why was I sitting in this suffering? If not me, then who else? Would they do this again. I failed to get answers to the questions that begged release.

The pain never dulled, but the sound of my voice did as I heard the sudden pop of both my arms leaving the sockets, finally reaching the goal they wanted. It took twenty minutes to gain their satisfaction. As my arms were finally released I tried my best to sound like I had kept myself together during that process, even though I was aching to scream and cry. No one liked a hero, but I had too much pride to care. I didn’t have to turn my head very far to see my misshapen shoulders, over swollen and heavily bruised. I couldn’t even bother with trying to move them even though all I wanted to see was one of these skull freaks at the end of my fist. I wouldn’t have gotten very far but at least I would have made a valiant effort.

We sat in silence for a long ten minutes with my eyes closed and my head leaned back on back of the chair before I heard an assortment of whispers through the pains incessant throbbing.

“...want to see…” “...what broke…” “...dig inside…”

I cracked one eye open to see the tallest one dragging lines across my shoulders and my collar bone, pointing out places, with another one in a tiger skull nodding. My head snapped up faster than it should have but before I could utter a single “no”, I felt the cold sting of a fist across the face before all silence fell.

No One Deserves To Live Like This (III.)

The floor is where I regained anything of consciousness. It was a different floor, that of a bedroom. I didn’t remember it, but it seemed familiar enough that I didn’t care much to question it. I just laid there for a moment, my eyes glued to the awful cream white baseboard. The entire room had a rustic feel yet it reeked of hospital equipment and wound care. My mind wanted to believe I was completely uninjured yet I had a feeling that if I moved from this warm dent in the wooden boarding, I wouldn’t be able to go much of anywhere. I leaned my head a little more to see that my shoulders had been reset and the bruising was worse than ever.

I couldn’t stay here forever though. I had to get out, get away, somewhere far. With a terrified inhale, I moved my arms slowly enough that only a dull pain rolled throughout. I was honestly more glad for the fact that I didn’t feel like I had poured acid down my throat anymore. Pushing myself up, I sat on my knees moving back and forth slowly, trying to soothe the pain. Every five minutes or so, I found myself moving inch by inch until I found myself in front of a vanity. What I saw almost turned my stomach for what I hoped would be the last time as I looked at a crudely sewn up “V” shape carved into my torso from my right shoulder, down to my sternum, and back up to my other shoulder. It looked as if they didn’t care much for fixing what they broke. It leaked bodily fluids I couldn’t describe and my shirt clung to it like it was the only thing protecting the seeping wound.

As for my face, it wasn’t much better, my right temple and upper cheekbone bruised and red. My eyes were sunken in and were darker than any sleep deprivation circumstance I could create. I didn’t care much for staring at the destruction much longer so I said a silent goodbye to the person in the mirror. I refused to believe that was my face, but I couldn’t ignore the scars I’d have to suffer later. I looked down, seeing sunlight dance across the floorboards. That was the most reassuring thing I had seen the entire time. Slowly wandering, I found a set of stairs that led to the front door, the sunshine beaming through it. I took a long, pained exhale and descended, hoping to never return.

FIN.

“You will find peace not by trying to escape your problems,

but by confronting them courageously.

You will find peace not in denial,

but in victory.”

J. Donald Walters

#horror #nightmare #nightmare writer #writing

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quintlilian · 5 years

Text

Absolute Light

The sun is our only source of natural light. For the lucky ones, we are greeted by it for only twenty minutes, twice a day. Dawn and dusk, if you must know. I am placed high in the complex, not high enough to see over the array of skyscrapers, but high enough to have the sun hit my face through the automated blinds. For those less fortunate, the exposure is all they know. Sometimes I think of them in the mornings, waking up at their complex’s prescribed time and feeling not the sun, but the blinding exposure hit their face. I never think about them when I see the sun, though. That little bit of selfishness I reserve for myself. I want to savour it as best I can for that small bit of time. Its warmth and blinding light never seem enough for those twenty precious minutes. I want more, I always need more. I sit on the edge of my bed with my eyes closed until the blinds close and the exposure starts again. There is a beeping on the wall behind me. I’m late for the morning routine. I always am.

The exposure does not end for any reason, sickness, health, or life. In death I suppose it might, but even still the coffins are as white as the exposure itself, and they are on display until their incineration. Not for too long, though. Maybe just a brief viewing for any registered kin. Bodies carry disease. Disease is a plague to society, plague to the exposure.

The exposure follows me as I cross the room several times to cleanse, return to make the bed, cleanse my hands again. I would skip the cleansing to save time if there weren’t severe punishments for it. I take down the same sterilized uniform of our society off of the same sterilized hangers. I cast a panicked glance to the time before hurrying out of the small door. I nearly run, at risk of injury penalty, to the elevator and cram myself inside with some other members of society. There was an especially young one that watched me try to move to the back with wide eyes. He had seen me running. The same stark white uniform fits as stiffly on them as on me.

The exposure sits around us. I wonder briefly if it is especially bright this morning. But maybe that is simply a product of my groggy morning state. Its harshness strikes up a small throbbing pain just behind my eyes. I try to ignore it and focus on a woman in front of me. Her back is turned and she is short. I can see down the back of her neck, where I find a curious thing. She has a mark just below the high collar of the uniform. At first I thought it was a birthmark, but it was definitely an injury. Injury. A rare thing, a forbidden thing. I quickly hoped I didn’t betray any expression of surprise. This woman must know what kind of danger she was in. We were all in danger because of her. A million punishments ran through my head. Penalty for collaboration, punishment for subjection. Death for contamination. I almost had to suppress a laugh. I finally had a secret the exposure could not see. It was almost like seeing the sun for a second time. This selfish secret I would not surrender.

The exposure stays inside the elevator, but there is more outside in our complex’s lobby. There are no windows or doors, but the same white tiles all around, the same glaring exposure that highlights all aspects of a member’s figure. Absolute light. It is glaring and unforgiving. There is no indication of anything unclean or unhealthy in the large hall. There is no dirt, not even in the artificial plant plots that give us our only colour from day to day. I need to get over this stiff, uncomfortable feeling. This is my thirtieth year like this.

The boy from the elevator is following me. I’m trying to head to our routine cleansing station, but I am sure he is following me. I exit the complex lobby and try to lose him in the multitudes of corridors and people trying to get to their stations. It’s no use. I’m taller than most, and the exposure lets nothing hide. No secrecy. No privacy. Every member will continue to function as best they can to serve the society, because the exposure will betray them the minute it can.

I’m heading deeper and deeper into the corridors. He is still following. It’s pure luck he’s found no authority so far, or I’d be taken away for questioning on why I would even think to run. Why I would risk injury. I start to feel panic at my brows and the back of my neck. I would not look around. The guilt on my face would seal my confession. I hurry onto an escalator and I can feel him right behind me. His breath is on my neck. He must have seen the glistening beads of sweat. At the bottom of the elevator is my cleansing station. Authority is patrolling at the bottom. Their uniforms are distinguishable only by a large red dot directly over their heart. I’m done for.

And then I see the woman. She has made it onto the same elevator, a couple of steps down. No one is behind her except for me, and I have a full view of her injury behind her collar. For a moment I am torn. Only a moment.

Composing my face, I make a slight turn to look behind me at the boy. His face is full of smug knowing that he will report me, and his eyes hold disgust. I give him a small smile to throw him off balance and point towards the woman. He sees her injury almost immediately. The disgust spreads from his eyes to his unlined face. There is not even a nod of thanks as he rushes past me, down past the woman, and to the authority waiting at the cleansing station.

I close my ears when I hear her screams. It will probably be the last sound she ever makes. I wonder if the boy watched it all, the arrest, the struggle, the beating to follow. I wonder for how long he will hear the screams when he closes his eyes. I wonder if once it was all over, he looked for me. I was long gone by then. I had passed the cleansing station with flying colours and was now lost among the crowds of society. I doubt he will see me again, I’ll make sure of it. I’ve lost my selfish secret, but still I look forward to the end of the day. I will hold my breath for the last twenty minutes of the day when the setting sun hits my face. I will close my eyes and take in every inch of sunlight. I will hear no screams.

#non project #just bringing all my stuff over from oqualo don't mind me #mine

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