PT 8: The Devil
Title: In the Aftermath
Story Type: Project Tarot Original
Word Count: 1051
Summary: The redemption arc never had a chance
Notes: I'm not even sure what this is. I figure it takes place in some Buffy-type show, when one of the gang goes evil and causes a whole lot of darkness and destruction only to be snapped out of it just in time to suicide mission and save the day and now they're staring at the protagonist, trying to figure out what happens now that they're still alive when they have no right to be. Sort of a double-inner monologue. Inner dialogue? I'm not sure they're actually saying anything to each other.
In the Aftermath
I'm not dead.
That's...I don't even know how to touch that. But I'm awake and I'm moving and fucking everything hurts and that's a pretty good indicator that.
I'm not dead.
What do you do with that? I mean, this was it, right? I was ready. It was my time. Bite the bullet, get in there, last blaze of glory and then it's all snuffed out. Right?
Right?
I never meant to hurt you. This was supposed to end it all. This...this was supposed to be the end.
How can you forgive me if I'm still here to remind you what I did?
You're alive.
I still just can't...after everything you did, after all you caused, why do you get to live? How is that fair?
Here, take my hand. I'll help you up.
No, of course it doesn't mean anything. I hate you. I'm always going to hate you. Every drop of blood, every cry of pain, you did that. That's on you. Christ, you're bleeding. Here, let me--
I loved you, you know.
I was always going to tell you, before...before I got lost.
I was so, so lost. And I saw you looking at him, saw you so happy and.
And why couldn't I make you that happy? I mean, it's a great way to feel pretty shit about yourself.
Fuck, now that I say that...how stupid was I? How is that justification for any of this? I was so...selfish, and such an idiot. To think my pain meant more than--more than all of this.
I was so ready to die just now, you can't possibly--it seemed like the only way. How can I redeem myself for this?
You can't make it better. You can't. You're gonna spend the rest of your life trying, living like a fucking saint, and it's never going to bring them back. Nothing is ever going to bring them back. Nothing is going to undo all the shit you did.
It's always going to be your fault.
I wanted to make it different. I wanted to be better. I wanted to mean something, somehow. I wish I could explain, when the darkness is creeping along the edges of your mind, when the power fills you up so full that parts of you get pushed out to make room.
I want to tell you it wasn't me. And I want you to believe me. I want it to be true.
Do good people do bad things? Can I be a good person after all of this? Am I beyond good now? Tainted so badly that nothing good can touch me?
You should go. You can't start over here, and I can't end you. I can't look at you and only see what you've become. I have to remember what you were.
I could have loved you, too. If you'd stayed.
Where can I go from here? How far do I run before I shake it loose? Or do I just run until I collapse and let it eat me alive?
Maybe I can just lie down here. Never wake up. Do it myself, so you don't have to be the one to do it. To enact their justice on me.
Because I know you don't want to kill me. I might want you to, but you can't bring yourself to do it. You can't bring yourself to kill everything I could've been.
I won't make you carry that. If I only do one thing for you, let it be this. Let me bear the weight of this one. Please.
No, no, you fucking bastard, don't you even think about it! I'm not letting you get out of it that easy. No, you're gonna live. You're standing up and you are walking away from this. You are looking back and seeing what you caused. You're gonna carry this, forever.
I hope they haunt you. If I was dead, I'd haunt you too. Make sure you never get a decent night's sleep. Make sure you never forget.
I could never forget this. I could never turn my back and let it fade away into the distance. I get that.
I can't stay with you.
That's it, isn't it? My punishment. I did this, started all of this, so I could be with you. And now? I have to be the one who leaves you. I have to walk away from you. How tiny is that? How stupid and puny and pointless is that? All of this death, all this pain, over what? Two people. Two people who never meant much to begin with, and now all of this.
It's insulting. I'm disgusted with myself. It doesn't make any sense!
It's time for you to go. I don't care where, and I don't care what happens to you when you get there. Walk away now. Walk away while I still hate you. You look too human right now, and it's not helping.
If I can ask one thing, and I know I can't. Don't remember me like this. Pretend it was someone else, wearing my face, who did all of this to you. Pretend I've become something different. When you think of me, I know you will, my last torment for you, think of me before. Mourn my death, before all of this ever started. Don't look at me now and say my name, because I died. I was the first casualty. Okay?
One last lie.
I just want you to sleep tonight.
Don't cry.
Don't you dare cry.
Not while I can see you.
Monsters shouldn't be able to cry.
I'm sorry.
It's pathetic, and meaningless, and it doesn't make anything better. It could never make anything better. But it's all I've got.
I'm sorry.
If you won't walk away, then I'll do it. I'll be the one to say good bye.
Don't worry, I'm good at it by now. I've had a lot of practice.
No, no, don't turn away. Not you.
I get it, I get it.
It's time.
I wish...
But that doesn't matter now.
It's over.
It's over.
It's just never going to end.
Story Type: Project Tarot Original
Word Count: 1051
Summary: The redemption arc never had a chance
Notes: I'm not even sure what this is. I figure it takes place in some Buffy-type show, when one of the gang goes evil and causes a whole lot of darkness and destruction only to be snapped out of it just in time to suicide mission and save the day and now they're staring at the protagonist, trying to figure out what happens now that they're still alive when they have no right to be. Sort of a double-inner monologue. Inner dialogue? I'm not sure they're actually saying anything to each other.
In the Aftermath
I'm not dead.
That's...I don't even know how to touch that. But I'm awake and I'm moving and fucking everything hurts and that's a pretty good indicator that.
I'm not dead.
What do you do with that? I mean, this was it, right? I was ready. It was my time. Bite the bullet, get in there, last blaze of glory and then it's all snuffed out. Right?
Right?
I never meant to hurt you. This was supposed to end it all. This...this was supposed to be the end.
How can you forgive me if I'm still here to remind you what I did?
You're alive.
I still just can't...after everything you did, after all you caused, why do you get to live? How is that fair?
Here, take my hand. I'll help you up.
No, of course it doesn't mean anything. I hate you. I'm always going to hate you. Every drop of blood, every cry of pain, you did that. That's on you. Christ, you're bleeding. Here, let me--
I loved you, you know.
I was always going to tell you, before...before I got lost.
I was so, so lost. And I saw you looking at him, saw you so happy and.
And why couldn't I make you that happy? I mean, it's a great way to feel pretty shit about yourself.
Fuck, now that I say that...how stupid was I? How is that justification for any of this? I was so...selfish, and such an idiot. To think my pain meant more than--more than all of this.
I was so ready to die just now, you can't possibly--it seemed like the only way. How can I redeem myself for this?
You can't make it better. You can't. You're gonna spend the rest of your life trying, living like a fucking saint, and it's never going to bring them back. Nothing is ever going to bring them back. Nothing is going to undo all the shit you did.
It's always going to be your fault.
I wanted to make it different. I wanted to be better. I wanted to mean something, somehow. I wish I could explain, when the darkness is creeping along the edges of your mind, when the power fills you up so full that parts of you get pushed out to make room.
I want to tell you it wasn't me. And I want you to believe me. I want it to be true.
Do good people do bad things? Can I be a good person after all of this? Am I beyond good now? Tainted so badly that nothing good can touch me?
You should go. You can't start over here, and I can't end you. I can't look at you and only see what you've become. I have to remember what you were.
I could have loved you, too. If you'd stayed.
Where can I go from here? How far do I run before I shake it loose? Or do I just run until I collapse and let it eat me alive?
Maybe I can just lie down here. Never wake up. Do it myself, so you don't have to be the one to do it. To enact their justice on me.
Because I know you don't want to kill me. I might want you to, but you can't bring yourself to do it. You can't bring yourself to kill everything I could've been.
I won't make you carry that. If I only do one thing for you, let it be this. Let me bear the weight of this one. Please.
No, no, you fucking bastard, don't you even think about it! I'm not letting you get out of it that easy. No, you're gonna live. You're standing up and you are walking away from this. You are looking back and seeing what you caused. You're gonna carry this, forever.
I hope they haunt you. If I was dead, I'd haunt you too. Make sure you never get a decent night's sleep. Make sure you never forget.
I could never forget this. I could never turn my back and let it fade away into the distance. I get that.
I can't stay with you.
That's it, isn't it? My punishment. I did this, started all of this, so I could be with you. And now? I have to be the one who leaves you. I have to walk away from you. How tiny is that? How stupid and puny and pointless is that? All of this death, all this pain, over what? Two people. Two people who never meant much to begin with, and now all of this.
It's insulting. I'm disgusted with myself. It doesn't make any sense!
It's time for you to go. I don't care where, and I don't care what happens to you when you get there. Walk away now. Walk away while I still hate you. You look too human right now, and it's not helping.
If I can ask one thing, and I know I can't. Don't remember me like this. Pretend it was someone else, wearing my face, who did all of this to you. Pretend I've become something different. When you think of me, I know you will, my last torment for you, think of me before. Mourn my death, before all of this ever started. Don't look at me now and say my name, because I died. I was the first casualty. Okay?
One last lie.
I just want you to sleep tonight.
Don't cry.
Don't you dare cry.
Not while I can see you.
Monsters shouldn't be able to cry.
I'm sorry.
It's pathetic, and meaningless, and it doesn't make anything better. It could never make anything better. But it's all I've got.
I'm sorry.
If you won't walk away, then I'll do it. I'll be the one to say good bye.
Don't worry, I'm good at it by now. I've had a lot of practice.
No, no, don't turn away. Not you.
I get it, I get it.
It's time.
I wish...
But that doesn't matter now.
It's over.
It's over.
It's just never going to end.