[ms] disc two: 13. ‘crawling in the dark’ - hoobastank
I will dedicate
And sacrifice my everything for just a second's worth
Of how my story's ending
And I wish I could know if the directions that I take
And all the choices that I make won't end up all for nothing
He hates that it’s easy.
He hates that his life before means something to him now as he falls to the pavement a second time. It hurts, that everything changed so quickly…that almost fourteen years of self-flagellation, pain, torture, and fear were rendered completely meaningless in the instant it took to swing a sword.
He hates her for leaving them. He hates a stranger for taking her away.
He hates that he’s grateful for his father as he gets to his feet and brushes himself off. His stomach lurches a little with the nausea that comes from knowing he can call himself Mays Ryder, Jr. this one time and actually feel a small measure of pride.
He hates that he’s staring at an Immortal with the same kind of loathing his brothers felt when they tried to have him killed and hunt down his family.
He hates with a purity that’s cold and true, a hate that’s borne of grief, of deeper pain than he’s known in a long while…it’s not the weak and wild hatred of a blood legacy. It’s a comforting thought.
One that lets him draw his weapon and goes on to torture the Immortal he’s fighting.
It takes him three hours to die. Ryder waits until he stops breathing before he decapitates him. He never feels the blade, and that makes him more merciful than his dad and his brothers.
It’s an easy thing to do…and he hates that after all these years, it’s still easy.
Muse: Mays Ryder
Fandom: Highlander (OC)
Words: 250
And sacrifice my everything for just a second's worth
Of how my story's ending
And I wish I could know if the directions that I take
And all the choices that I make won't end up all for nothing
He hates that it’s easy.
He hates that his life before means something to him now as he falls to the pavement a second time. It hurts, that everything changed so quickly…that almost fourteen years of self-flagellation, pain, torture, and fear were rendered completely meaningless in the instant it took to swing a sword.
He hates her for leaving them. He hates a stranger for taking her away.
He hates that he’s grateful for his father as he gets to his feet and brushes himself off. His stomach lurches a little with the nausea that comes from knowing he can call himself Mays Ryder, Jr. this one time and actually feel a small measure of pride.
He hates that he’s staring at an Immortal with the same kind of loathing his brothers felt when they tried to have him killed and hunt down his family.
He hates with a purity that’s cold and true, a hate that’s borne of grief, of deeper pain than he’s known in a long while…it’s not the weak and wild hatred of a blood legacy. It’s a comforting thought.
One that lets him draw his weapon and goes on to torture the Immortal he’s fighting.
It takes him three hours to die. Ryder waits until he stops breathing before he decapitates him. He never feels the blade, and that makes him more merciful than his dad and his brothers.
It’s an easy thing to do…and he hates that after all these years, it’s still easy.
Muse: Mays Ryder
Fandom: Highlander (OC)
Words: 250