Nightshift 38: M41-M50 Hallway
After dinner Depth Charge had drifted over to his bed and collapsed onto it, feeling disturbingly fragile, as if a strong breeze could shatter him and blow away the pieces like they were nothing but dust. Matsuda’d tried to help, but the human had no idea He’d never felt so helpless, so useless, so slagging vulnerable. What was he supposed to do now, just sit around and wait? What if X had survived? What if he was still out there?
Maybe that’s the point. There’s got to be a reason you’re here and not him. Think about it. Five stellar cycles of ceaseless hunting, and for what? Petty vengeance? Don’t give me that ‘justice’ smelt either. You know this is personal. Ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe he’s not the monst-
The doctor’s announcement buzzed hollowly overhead, splitting his thoughts in two. Depth Charge, as grateful as he was for the distraction, barely noticed the change in tone, nor would he have given a slag if he had. Why the Pit should he have done? X had pulled out the ultimate get-out-of-jail-card on him and left him to rot in the mutant’s place and he was supposed to care about something like that? Slag that!
In fact, the more he thought about it, the more cheated he began to feel. The more angry. And anger was always preferable to despondency; it brought with its frenzy a blinding effect that, while it lasted, removed him entirely from his thoughts. The thoughts that, otherwise, would have eaten away at him all night. It would hurt like frag afterwards, of course, even more than if he’d never bothered, but he was hardly thinking straight enough to care.
The rage continued to bubble and seethe within him, until, finally, it forced him upright and out of bed. Grabbing the bat from under his mattress and the torch from his drawer he wrenched open the door and burst out into the hallway.
[To here]
Maybe that’s the point. There’s got to be a reason you’re here and not him. Think about it. Five stellar cycles of ceaseless hunting, and for what? Petty vengeance? Don’t give me that ‘justice’ smelt either. You know this is personal. Ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe he’s not the monst-
The doctor’s announcement buzzed hollowly overhead, splitting his thoughts in two. Depth Charge, as grateful as he was for the distraction, barely noticed the change in tone, nor would he have given a slag if he had. Why the Pit should he have done? X had pulled out the ultimate get-out-of-jail-card on him and left him to rot in the mutant’s place and he was supposed to care about something like that? Slag that!
In fact, the more he thought about it, the more cheated he began to feel. The more angry. And anger was always preferable to despondency; it brought with its frenzy a blinding effect that, while it lasted, removed him entirely from his thoughts. The thoughts that, otherwise, would have eaten away at him all night. It would hurt like frag afterwards, of course, even more than if he’d never bothered, but he was hardly thinking straight enough to care.
The rage continued to bubble and seethe within him, until, finally, it forced him upright and out of bed. Grabbing the bat from under his mattress and the torch from his drawer he wrenched open the door and burst out into the hallway.
[To here]