[ he was an open wound, festering into nothingness. his body had emptied itself into the gutters of the alleyway; the drug induced haze, casting a blanket of fog over the expanse of his mind, reduces into soberness slowly and surely. the aches, the pains, the grief hits him in numb waves, sloshing about in his head and cementing him to the ground.
his mask cracks just enough to catch a blinding glimpse of the sunlight.
the world fades into black silence.
he sees it, now; stacks of books, piled high enough to rival the ceiling. this is a familiar sight. but the room — it’s different. it’s imbued with a morning dew, an ethereal glow even, that separates it from the dull greys he once knew.
there’s a throne. and—
his breath hitches.
he blinks. breathes in again. and out. slurring his words— ]
If this is a trick… I’ll fucking kill you…
[ when was the last time he spoke coherently? the prospect alone is a vague memory. but she is still here — seated on this throne that lies before him. he is on his knees, grasping for the ground, groping around for feeling in an attempt to decipher if this is reality. ]
She’s— dead. [ his eyes are burning furiously. since when did enkephelin do this to the human body? ] She’s dead, goddamn you! I killed her, she’s dead! [ roland’s fists thrash violently against the ground; a pure display of helplessness. ] S..Stop it… I can’t — can’t live like this… I know I deserve to but… I can’t— fuck…!
no subject
his mask cracks just enough to catch a blinding glimpse of the sunlight.
the world fades into black silence.
he sees it, now; stacks of books, piled high enough to rival the ceiling. this is a familiar sight. but the room — it’s different. it’s imbued with a morning dew, an ethereal glow even, that separates it from the dull greys he once knew.
there’s a throne. and—
his breath hitches.
he blinks. breathes in again. and out. slurring his words— ]
If this is a trick… I’ll fucking kill you…
[ when was the last time he spoke coherently? the prospect alone is a vague memory. but she is still here — seated on this throne that lies before him. he is on his knees, grasping for the ground, groping around for feeling in an attempt to decipher if this is reality. ]
She’s— dead. [ his eyes are burning furiously. since when did enkephelin do this to the human body? ] She’s dead, goddamn you! I killed her, she’s dead! [ roland’s fists thrash violently against the ground; a pure display of helplessness. ] S..Stop it… I can’t — can’t live like this… I know I deserve to but… I can’t— fuck…!