.026 [Video post]
[A rather shocking image is displayed across the screen. On a decrepit crumbling wall of an unidentifiable building, Alex Shepherd hangs limply in a crucifixion pose. Not bound by nails as per tradition, he instead has two short-bladed-- yet sturdy-- knives shoved in the center of each of his palms. His feet are bound together with rope, and his
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He was simply going to walk on through. Keep going, ignore the body on the wall because this is all part of the wargames, isn't it? Fair is fair is fair. Even if that bastard managed to do... what, kill him? Was that death? It didn't matter. Even if he managed to cause enough harm to make the Sable lose consciousness, it did not make him his better.
Actually, if anything, it made him a coward.
Nero stopped in front of the stranger, a smile tugging at his lips as he lifts his new weapon up. Slathered in black gore and bits of other, undiscerning material which is better in the body than out, the lead pipe is a perfect means to an end.]
Where is your God now?
[Alex may start to feel cold as the Darkness of Oblivion begin to crawl up his arms.
Nero's not one for psychical torture. The psychological is much more fun.]
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In his delirious state wrought from the physical and mental anguish, he tries to convince himself that the man standing before him is only an illusion. He's not real. In Alex's time of dying, he's hallucinating, and the ghosts of his past have come to haunt him.
He continues to pray.]
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[Nero roughly prods the man in the side of the face with the weapon. He would have liked to do this much damage himself, it would have been... pleasurable to see what sort of torture he could put this cowardly creature through.
He drops the pipe, knocking it against the man's shoulder. Oblivion is rising higher and higher, not enveloping him completely yet, but covering him in a thin layer of writing shadow. Nero's figure - slathered in blood, dark and terrifying in the dim light - becomes visible once more.]
You'll die soon, won't you?
[he jams the pipe roughly into one shoulder, his other hand moving to touch the man's face, almost gently. His skin is chilly, like death.]
Let's take a quick trip down memory lane while we wait.
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No... I saved you...
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[Alex's senses have become exceptionally fuzzy, so much so that the physical pain he knew that he should still be in screaming agony over doesn't seem so bad anymore. Everything's more than a little blurry around the edges. He doesn't even have the lucidity to recognize if Joshua's still there with him or not. So when he catches sight of Balthazar-- an angel-- he assumes he's finally started to pass on.
It's not so bad. Dying, that is.
But he's not actually dead yet, and without any of his strength left, he's unable to speak. He hopes that the gratefulness he feels is able to be seen on his face.]
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Brace yourself...
[ He could not find a way to do it gently. It was a balance, getting his arm behind Alex to support his weight while reaching for the first dagger that held him to the wall. He tried to reach into the other's mind to give him comfort, to ease the pain, but it was difficult to find something to hold on to. He was slipping away and fractured. Cringing as if it would cause him pain as well, he yanked the weapon from the wall and Alex's arm. ]
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The frown on his face deepened, and several times he opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the courage to. Where was the God Alex so desperately prayed to now?
The rest of whatever faith Josh had was now crucified with his brother; there was no God.]
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[When Nero had gone, Alex knew that he wasn't dead. He wasn't in Hell yet. He was just dying, left to hang on that wall as the pathetic broken image of the man he'd once been. He had no tears left, and the physical agony was almost too much to bear. He could feel the flesh and muscle of his hands slowly tearing where the knives held them in place as gravity took its toll.
He'd stopped praying.
Vaguely, faintly, he heard someone approach. It was probably Pamela, or the woman who'd been possessed by the restless spirit of Walter Sullivan. He painfully cracked his eyes open, if only for a glimpse. The man standing there was foreign, yet so familiar at the same time.
Alex would know him anywhere.]
J-- Josh...? Is that you?
[That was weird. He hadn't called him that since they were kids.]
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Y-Yeah. It's me, Alex.
[It hurt to look upon his brother in that state. He was watching him die. He was letting someone take away his big brother again. He had to force himself to choke back tears, to grit his teeth. Alex had killed people, wasn't this what he deserved?
But Josh knew better than that. No matter what Alex had done, he didn't deserve this, no one did.]
Can you tell me who did this to you..?
[His voice was laced with anger and concern.]
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Roxas. He--
[He lets the matter drop. While a part of him thinks he should tell his brother to let him down, in his heart, he knows he doesn't have much time left either way... and Josh deserves an explanation. When he speaks, his voice is grainy and strained, and he pauses every few words in order to catch his breath.]
Josh... I'm sorry. I wanted... so much... to believe that it was all for something.
When you died, I... I couldn't take it... I knew... I knew before it happened... I knew it was going to... but when I finally... saw it... I almost died myself... so many times...
I wanted... to believe you died for a reason... I wanted dad to be right... I wanted it to be true.
That's why... I turned to God. I thought... if He really existed... He'd show me the way... And He did. He did...
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