Challenge [284]
challenge: [284] Nature and Nurture
title: The Best I Could Do
word count: 597
notes: in which ansem the wise has the worst father's day evar. ahaha, i was so tired when i wrote this. apologies for any incoherency.
"It's really fascinating, you know."
The corridor feels darker than night, though the lights glare off the walls.
Ansem nods. He says nothing.
"Place a person-- a person with a normal psychological profile, with no tendency towards violence-- into a situation where they have absolute power over another person. A prisoner, say, or a patient, or even an experiment volunteer." Ienzo flips through a few pages on a clipboard.
The doors lining the sides of the corridor make Ansem's breath feel choked in his throat. He avoids looking at the windows as they pass by.
"And over and over, we found that this seems to be part of the answer." Ienzo's voice is excited, as though announcing the discovery of a new chemical compound. "Some crucial part of the 'darkness of the heart,' Master Ansem. Being given absolute authority over others draws it out." He is still short, for fourteen. He rocks back and forth on his feet.
"Then..." Ansem slowly lets go of the trapped breath. "Having established this... you should cease all further experiments. Should you not?"
"But there's so much more we can learn from this." Ienzo has stopped walking. He's standing in front of a door, scratching his ear, businesslike. "You told us that uncovering the secrets of the heart's darkness could bring us utopia-- a world with no crime, no cruelty or war."
"Ienzo." Ansem extends a hand. He feels old and frail. "My dream was misguided from the start-- a young man's vain folly. This darkness of the heart-- I see now that it cannot be examined too closely, or it will reach out to consume those who study it."
"Look at this." Ienzo stares at the door in front of them. The frame is reinforced with steel, held shut with three locks. "This was one of our most fascinating experiments. The man in here was given the chance to kill his former captor, who held him prisoner for thirty days--"
For a moment Ansem's gaze fixes on the window-- he sees a pale light, a gaunt figure, crimson stains on the walls. And then he turns around, head sunk with the nameless emotion that comes beyond despair.
"What have I made of you?" he whispers to the still air. "What have I made of all of you?"
"Master Ansem..." Ienzo's voice is tinged with surprise. "You made me a scientist. A person who questions, who explores, who is never satisfied with the knowledge they have."
"This... this is not science." Ansem clenches his fist, feeling an ache in his aging bones. "This is not..."
"But I sought to answer your question. We all did." Ienzo tilts his head, and for a moment Ansem sees a quiet little boy again.
He remembers that once, he sought to answer the question: Is darkness made, or born? He stares at Ienzo-- he cannot detach himself enough from fatherly love to answer the question, and he does not want to. Both answers lead to despair.
"Stop the experiments." He turns around, begins the long walk down to the staircase. "No more of them. From this day forward-- there will be no more."
Somewhere inside, he fears the innocent boy is gone forever, or never truly existed. He wants to believe himself wrong-- he would give up all his knowledge and learning to see that boy again, to whom he gave the best of his love, only to find it perhaps not good enough.
And if he is wrong, he realises, he would rather be blinded by that love than know the truth.
title: The Best I Could Do
word count: 597
notes: in which ansem the wise has the worst father's day evar. ahaha, i was so tired when i wrote this. apologies for any incoherency.
"It's really fascinating, you know."
The corridor feels darker than night, though the lights glare off the walls.
Ansem nods. He says nothing.
"Place a person-- a person with a normal psychological profile, with no tendency towards violence-- into a situation where they have absolute power over another person. A prisoner, say, or a patient, or even an experiment volunteer." Ienzo flips through a few pages on a clipboard.
The doors lining the sides of the corridor make Ansem's breath feel choked in his throat. He avoids looking at the windows as they pass by.
"And over and over, we found that this seems to be part of the answer." Ienzo's voice is excited, as though announcing the discovery of a new chemical compound. "Some crucial part of the 'darkness of the heart,' Master Ansem. Being given absolute authority over others draws it out." He is still short, for fourteen. He rocks back and forth on his feet.
"Then..." Ansem slowly lets go of the trapped breath. "Having established this... you should cease all further experiments. Should you not?"
"But there's so much more we can learn from this." Ienzo has stopped walking. He's standing in front of a door, scratching his ear, businesslike. "You told us that uncovering the secrets of the heart's darkness could bring us utopia-- a world with no crime, no cruelty or war."
"Ienzo." Ansem extends a hand. He feels old and frail. "My dream was misguided from the start-- a young man's vain folly. This darkness of the heart-- I see now that it cannot be examined too closely, or it will reach out to consume those who study it."
"Look at this." Ienzo stares at the door in front of them. The frame is reinforced with steel, held shut with three locks. "This was one of our most fascinating experiments. The man in here was given the chance to kill his former captor, who held him prisoner for thirty days--"
For a moment Ansem's gaze fixes on the window-- he sees a pale light, a gaunt figure, crimson stains on the walls. And then he turns around, head sunk with the nameless emotion that comes beyond despair.
"What have I made of you?" he whispers to the still air. "What have I made of all of you?"
"Master Ansem..." Ienzo's voice is tinged with surprise. "You made me a scientist. A person who questions, who explores, who is never satisfied with the knowledge they have."
"This... this is not science." Ansem clenches his fist, feeling an ache in his aging bones. "This is not..."
"But I sought to answer your question. We all did." Ienzo tilts his head, and for a moment Ansem sees a quiet little boy again.
He remembers that once, he sought to answer the question: Is darkness made, or born? He stares at Ienzo-- he cannot detach himself enough from fatherly love to answer the question, and he does not want to. Both answers lead to despair.
"Stop the experiments." He turns around, begins the long walk down to the staircase. "No more of them. From this day forward-- there will be no more."
Somewhere inside, he fears the innocent boy is gone forever, or never truly existed. He wants to believe himself wrong-- he would give up all his knowledge and learning to see that boy again, to whom he gave the best of his love, only to find it perhaps not good enough.
And if he is wrong, he realises, he would rather be blinded by that love than know the truth.