Time of Dying (50ficlets - Prompt #36: count)
Title: Time of Dying
Fandom: One Piece
Characters: Sanji
Prompt: #36 (count) // August 2, 2009 (paint myself in blue and red and black and gray)
Word Count: 507
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Blood, character death, and mentions of violence.
Summary: He's down on his knees, but not to pray just yet.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Time of Dying
home is. run. no. more.
He's down on his knees, but not to pray just yet. Not sure how he's supposed to feel. Time bomb's explosion has finally come to signal his sudden death. Does not fight back. Does not fall. Does not stand up. Tastes the blood inside his mouth. Smells the sick and sweet scent of death hanging in air that he's no longer able to use to breathe because he's not allowed.
home is nowhere. never was. never to be. search forever. like hide and seek. where no one wins and only you lose.
But instead he wonders. Wonders how many people he has killed. Wonders how many spirits he has shattered to the point where pieces cannot be put back together. Wonders how much clothes he's thrown away because of too much blood. Wonders how much he's consumed when he could've served hungry and worthy souls. Wonders if the old man from long ago would be proud of anything.
run away. black legs can take you far. be useful. no defense. no offense. do not look back. your one chance.
The end is close. Always was, he knows. But he can see it clearly now. As he looks to the dark and unforgiving and dark and red and dark and merciless sky for the last thing he will see, for the last time he will cry. Apologizes over and over to the ones resting so high above him. Because he will be intruding on the peace belonging to the dead. And truly he doesn't want to. And he waits ever so patiently and impatiently to take death by the hand.
no good anything at all. food is poison. knives are weapons. friends are enemies. zero means zero. nothingness.
But Heaven does not want him. Could've told anyone that. Honestly. Screams telling him that he has hell to pay. Angry voices telling him to be buried in the ground where he belongs. He has nothing to say for himself, so he turns around and faces the living once more. Struggles, continues battle for those who pushed him away. Because it makes them happy. Because they don't want him to rest in peace. Only in pieces.
more pain. darkness reigns. possessed by betrayal. bear your sins. fate cannot be rejected. forever and for always.
He survives because living is the hell he has to pay. Counts the weeks as he curses. Counts the days as he kicks. Counts the hours as he waits. Counts the seconds as he witnesses a chest that no longer rises and falls. Can't be long now until he is denied entrance to a better place again. Can't be long now until he fights and destroys again. Falls, sighs, stays. Stillness. Silence. Exhales, inhales, exhales, inhales, though he shouldn't. Breath should could back never. But there it is. And it's over for now. Happens over and over again. He's down on his knees, and he offers another prayer for all of the lives that he's wrecked.
home is. run. no. more.
Fandom: One Piece
Characters: Sanji
Prompt: #36 (count) // August 2, 2009 (paint myself in blue and red and black and gray)
Word Count: 507
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Blood, character death, and mentions of violence.
Summary: He's down on his knees, but not to pray just yet.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Time of Dying
home is. run. no. more.
He's down on his knees, but not to pray just yet. Not sure how he's supposed to feel. Time bomb's explosion has finally come to signal his sudden death. Does not fight back. Does not fall. Does not stand up. Tastes the blood inside his mouth. Smells the sick and sweet scent of death hanging in air that he's no longer able to use to breathe because he's not allowed.
home is nowhere. never was. never to be. search forever. like hide and seek. where no one wins and only you lose.
But instead he wonders. Wonders how many people he has killed. Wonders how many spirits he has shattered to the point where pieces cannot be put back together. Wonders how much clothes he's thrown away because of too much blood. Wonders how much he's consumed when he could've served hungry and worthy souls. Wonders if the old man from long ago would be proud of anything.
run away. black legs can take you far. be useful. no defense. no offense. do not look back. your one chance.
The end is close. Always was, he knows. But he can see it clearly now. As he looks to the dark and unforgiving and dark and red and dark and merciless sky for the last thing he will see, for the last time he will cry. Apologizes over and over to the ones resting so high above him. Because he will be intruding on the peace belonging to the dead. And truly he doesn't want to. And he waits ever so patiently and impatiently to take death by the hand.
no good anything at all. food is poison. knives are weapons. friends are enemies. zero means zero. nothingness.
But Heaven does not want him. Could've told anyone that. Honestly. Screams telling him that he has hell to pay. Angry voices telling him to be buried in the ground where he belongs. He has nothing to say for himself, so he turns around and faces the living once more. Struggles, continues battle for those who pushed him away. Because it makes them happy. Because they don't want him to rest in peace. Only in pieces.
more pain. darkness reigns. possessed by betrayal. bear your sins. fate cannot be rejected. forever and for always.
He survives because living is the hell he has to pay. Counts the weeks as he curses. Counts the days as he kicks. Counts the hours as he waits. Counts the seconds as he witnesses a chest that no longer rises and falls. Can't be long now until he is denied entrance to a better place again. Can't be long now until he fights and destroys again. Falls, sighs, stays. Stillness. Silence. Exhales, inhales, exhales, inhales, though he shouldn't. Breath should could back never. But there it is. And it's over for now. Happens over and over again. He's down on his knees, and he offers another prayer for all of the lives that he's wrecked.
home is. run. no. more.