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kimango: Theme, LOATHING
Self-loathery is <3.
It all felt extremely familiar.
The beast – if one could call it so – lay before him, arms reaching for his face, claws bent in awkward positions. One dangled by a thin ligament. Its leg, torn from the socket, was a step away from his shoes. Black liquid pooled under its head, a large knife firmly lodged through the right socket.
Ruuen did not flinch - it was hard to after the fifteenth time. They just kept coming, waiting for him to turn a dark corner. By the third, his arm was sore from swinging the rusted blade. By the fifth, the monsters were louder than him. By the eleventh, repetition had set in.
Each one, he aimed for the eyes.
This one had been different. This one died screaming, jaw dislocated, too desperate to survive; it tried a last-ditch attempt to claw him before he jammed the blade in. The grotesquery looked pathetic in its defiance.
It looked like him.
His right eyelid twitched behind the bandage. First a twitch, then an itch. He held back the urge to scratch, to stick his finger into the empty socket and go at it until it went away.
"It's not my fault," he mumbled, hand reaching for the bandage. He paused. A familiar phrase for a familiar sight. No, he lost his eye in a gunfight. No knife factored into the equation. The itch persisted; he rubbed against the bandage with the ball of his wrist. A slow hard sweep moved the gauze underneath.
"It's not my fault dammit," Ruuen said between gritted teeth. Louder, more irritated. Perhaps stuffing the bandage into the socket would do it, but he refrained.
"You said you were gonna die with me, you promised!"
The itch burned. He rubbed faster; mysterious voice be damned. Left to right, up-down, upper-left to lower-right, in circles, it refused to go away. The gauze peeked under the bandage.
"S'not my fault!" He insisted.
"You're a fucking liar, Ruuen!"
"Shut up!" He stepped on the skull. His foot fell through; bone fragments and blood splashed onto his shoe.
He stopped scratching.
Ruuen's head snapped so far back from the force he thought his neck would break before the wall shattered his skull. The blade slammed onto the bone, and his eye bulged out.
All Ruuen saw was Edison's tears.
He backed away from the corpse, nails pressed into his forehead and temple.
"It wasn't my fault." He shook his head, unable to look away. His chest heaved, the breaths faster, shorter.
He only felt the pain when Edison pulled the knife out.
"If you're too scared, I'll help you!"
"It wasn't my fault!" The dangling claw spun idly on its thread.
Backed up against the wall, his hand scrambled for something, anything to hold on to, his friend was insane, he needed to stop it before the knife came down again.
Fingers curled around an object, and he brought it to Edison's head.
Ruuen's head turned sharply to look over his shoulder. Steady footsteps echoed, yet there was only him and the corpse. Maybe Edison was coming down the hall to finish the job; Ruuen should be dead after all.
He never wanted to die to begin with.
"It wasn't my fault!" He waited for a response. There was none.
He took one, two steps back, then ran in the opposite direction.
"Edison?"
Brown eyes stared straight up, blood lined the cartilage, dripping onto scuffed parquet tiles.
He was not moving.
Ruuen scooted away from the wall, from the body, and dashed to the door, fresh blood trickling from the wound his fingers hid.
"It wasn't my fault!" He screamed over and over. The walls closed in, he was forced to the side. His shoulder brushed against the wall, chalk and dust staining his shirt. The toe of his shoe hit the side of a small hole, and he stumbled. Nails dug into the crumbling plaster, leaving flakes in his fingernails, but he never stopped.
His voice was hoarse, the floor a wet smear of brown-grey and black. His mouth felt salty; maybe it was blood, maybe it was tears, he was not sure. He ran until the ground abruptly ended and he fell headlong into the darkness, a series of steps rushing towards him.
Unlike the first time, he did not pass out.
Ruuen felt his hair tickle the rims of the socket, the loose bandage wrapped around his eye. His cheek and hands, they scraped against the rough cracked cement at the bottom. He wanted to get up and run. Crawl, even; but his chest hurt, his elbows and ankle stung from the pain. The footsteps were gone, but it would return. A few minutes or hours, Ruuen had no idea, but he was sure it would be back.
A whimper. "It wasn't my fault."
Edison wanted to die, Edison was running away, Edison started it, Edison was the bad friend; Ruuen was the victim, Ruuen did nothing wrong, Ruuen was defending himself, Ruuen only wanted to help; Ruuen was right, Edison was wrong.
Ruuen was no murderer.
"It wasn't my fault!" Ruuen screamed.
His head hurt, his throat burned, his face was wet and grimy, but no more itch. His fists trembled; Ruuen hiccupped.
"My fault." His voice cracked.
The hot tears brought no warmth, no comfort, and no absolution for his guilt.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
The sobs faded into the walls.
kimango: Theme, LOATHINGSelf-loathery is <3.
It all felt extremely familiar.
The beast – if one could call it so – lay before him, arms reaching for his face, claws bent in awkward positions. One dangled by a thin ligament. Its leg, torn from the socket, was a step away from his shoes. Black liquid pooled under its head, a large knife firmly lodged through the right socket.
Ruuen did not flinch - it was hard to after the fifteenth time. They just kept coming, waiting for him to turn a dark corner. By the third, his arm was sore from swinging the rusted blade. By the fifth, the monsters were louder than him. By the eleventh, repetition had set in.
Each one, he aimed for the eyes.
This one had been different. This one died screaming, jaw dislocated, too desperate to survive; it tried a last-ditch attempt to claw him before he jammed the blade in. The grotesquery looked pathetic in its defiance.
It looked like him.
His right eyelid twitched behind the bandage. First a twitch, then an itch. He held back the urge to scratch, to stick his finger into the empty socket and go at it until it went away.
"It's not my fault," he mumbled, hand reaching for the bandage. He paused. A familiar phrase for a familiar sight. No, he lost his eye in a gunfight. No knife factored into the equation. The itch persisted; he rubbed against the bandage with the ball of his wrist. A slow hard sweep moved the gauze underneath.
"It's not my fault dammit," Ruuen said between gritted teeth. Louder, more irritated. Perhaps stuffing the bandage into the socket would do it, but he refrained.
"You said you were gonna die with me, you promised!"
The itch burned. He rubbed faster; mysterious voice be damned. Left to right, up-down, upper-left to lower-right, in circles, it refused to go away. The gauze peeked under the bandage.
"S'not my fault!" He insisted.
"You're a fucking liar, Ruuen!"
"Shut up!" He stepped on the skull. His foot fell through; bone fragments and blood splashed onto his shoe.
He stopped scratching.
Ruuen's head snapped so far back from the force he thought his neck would break before the wall shattered his skull. The blade slammed onto the bone, and his eye bulged out.
All Ruuen saw was Edison's tears.
He backed away from the corpse, nails pressed into his forehead and temple.
"It wasn't my fault." He shook his head, unable to look away. His chest heaved, the breaths faster, shorter.
He only felt the pain when Edison pulled the knife out.
"If you're too scared, I'll help you!"
"It wasn't my fault!" The dangling claw spun idly on its thread.
Backed up against the wall, his hand scrambled for something, anything to hold on to, his friend was insane, he needed to stop it before the knife came down again.
Fingers curled around an object, and he brought it to Edison's head.
Ruuen's head turned sharply to look over his shoulder. Steady footsteps echoed, yet there was only him and the corpse. Maybe Edison was coming down the hall to finish the job; Ruuen should be dead after all.
He never wanted to die to begin with.
"It wasn't my fault!" He waited for a response. There was none.
He took one, two steps back, then ran in the opposite direction.
"Edison?"
Brown eyes stared straight up, blood lined the cartilage, dripping onto scuffed parquet tiles.
He was not moving.
Ruuen scooted away from the wall, from the body, and dashed to the door, fresh blood trickling from the wound his fingers hid.
"It wasn't my fault!" He screamed over and over. The walls closed in, he was forced to the side. His shoulder brushed against the wall, chalk and dust staining his shirt. The toe of his shoe hit the side of a small hole, and he stumbled. Nails dug into the crumbling plaster, leaving flakes in his fingernails, but he never stopped.
His voice was hoarse, the floor a wet smear of brown-grey and black. His mouth felt salty; maybe it was blood, maybe it was tears, he was not sure. He ran until the ground abruptly ended and he fell headlong into the darkness, a series of steps rushing towards him.
Unlike the first time, he did not pass out.
Ruuen felt his hair tickle the rims of the socket, the loose bandage wrapped around his eye. His cheek and hands, they scraped against the rough cracked cement at the bottom. He wanted to get up and run. Crawl, even; but his chest hurt, his elbows and ankle stung from the pain. The footsteps were gone, but it would return. A few minutes or hours, Ruuen had no idea, but he was sure it would be back.
A whimper. "It wasn't my fault."
Edison wanted to die, Edison was running away, Edison started it, Edison was the bad friend; Ruuen was the victim, Ruuen did nothing wrong, Ruuen was defending himself, Ruuen only wanted to help; Ruuen was right, Edison was wrong.
Ruuen was no murderer.
"It wasn't my fault!" Ruuen screamed.
His head hurt, his throat burned, his face was wet and grimy, but no more itch. His fists trembled; Ruuen hiccupped.
"My fault." His voice cracked.
The hot tears brought no warmth, no comfort, and no absolution for his guilt.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
The sobs faded into the walls.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-07-01 04:25 pm (UTC)My brain explodes X_X
no subject
Date: 2006-07-01 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 03:20 am (UTC)Very dark and emo and random. Nice XD
no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 03:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-03 12:45 pm (UTC)Normally I'm not into macabre nor gory writing, but this...thumbs up and keep it going! =D
no subject
Date: 2006-07-03 02:48 pm (UTC)(Damn I sound really stupid XD;;; )