Post by Deleted on Sept 28, 2014 21:58:38 GMT -5
He was in a dark place. Cold. Quiet. The ground beneath his feet felt rocky... or it did most of the time, anyway. There were brief instances in his memory that seemed to recall it as sandy, or grassy, or level and solid in a way that was at times reminiscent of ceramic, or concrete, or even steel.
Would that his memory had more to offer.
He had, many times, tried recalling where he was and couldn't. Tried recalling how he had come to be there, and couldn't. Tried recalling who he was - what he had been, what he had done - and couldn't. It seemed that the darkness enveloping him was more than an external presence.
He'd been walking for some time - an eternity, perhaps, or maybe a bit longer. The darkness, as thick and impregnable as it was, gave him no reason to doubt his footing. There was nothing in his way, no obstacles to trip him up, no inclines or ledges to traverse. He encountered not a single soul, no one with whom to walk, or to converse, or to even simply exist alongside. No, his travel went uninterrupted, unimpeded by the slightest detriment, until at last, one day - if a day could even be considered a unit of measurement in this lightless, timeless place - he stopped.
He stood at the edge of a great chasm. How he knew this, he couldn't say - it was not through sight, that much was certain. Perhaps the air was different, or his feet had come to know the ground beneath them so thoroughly, so intimately, that they had transferred to him some unconscious awareness of an impending drop-off. All he knew for certain was that the drop-off was there, and that it was a long way down. He got the impression that there was no bottom to this great abyss, nor was there another side to this monstrous chasm; only further darkness awaited him below, deeper and thicker and blacker even than that which he had traversed to arrive here. But while the dark he had already traversed had been benign, inanimate, the dark below waited for him. Hungered for him. Again, he could not say how he knew this, but the knowledge was there, gnawing his brain even as he ruminated on it.
He could not go down. He could not go back. Going to one side or the other would accomplish nothing.
In the end he decided to sit down, letting his feet dangle over the edge and allowing his eyes to atrophy and wither and die as they gazed into the black.
Before long, something sat down beside him.
"You have traveled far to get here."
"Yes."
"Do you know how you came to exist in this place?"
"No."
The Other made a small sound - one of acknowledgement, or perhaps bemusement - but said nothing further. Not for some time, anyway; as a matter of fact, it was he who finally broke the silence.
"The dark below."
"What of it?"
"What does it conceal? If one were to descend... what would one find?"
The answer came after a moment's consideration, and he regretted asking. "Eternity. A fall from this precipice is a fall with no bottom and no end. It is one that all must eventually take - the step from this cliff is one all must eventually make - but not you. You, in this particular instance, are unique."
"How so?"
"Your time to fall may be at hand... but it may not. The dark below will indeed welcome you in, should you wish it, but if not, you may yet return to the world above. You may yet rise."
He considered this. The world above? He had no idea there was such a thing, though he felt like he should have. "How would I go about that?"
"It is a simple matter of -"
Jesus Christ.
A voice, foreign, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He looked upward - towards its source - and felt the Other do the same, though without quite the same air of surprise and confusion as himself.
This... this isn't you.
"What's that?"
"One warrior addressing another."
"What do you mean?"
"They did battle, the two of them. Many times. The one speaking was defeated, again and again and again, until at last he stole something from the one to which he speaks in the hope that it would constitute some sort of success, some facsimile of victory... however hollow."
"Then what happened?" Even as he asked, the answer made itself apparent to him.
"They did battle one last time. As for the outcome..."
You’re not supposed to be lying here in a coma. You’re supposed to be in my face, gloating about how everything that goes wrong in your career is by no fault of your own. You’re supposed to be beating the shit out of me week in and week out. You’re supposed to be waging wars with anyone you see fit. You’re David fucking Smith, and this God damned hospital bed isn’t good enough for you.
"He seems bitter."
"Or remorseful."
He hadn't thought of that.
What happened, David? Where did all the fight go? Where did that egotistical, pain in the ass bastard go? For months there was nothing but ‘I’m the Blackest Star’ ‘There is Only Me’ coming out of your mouth...and now you let your body fail you like this?! You said you could take anything I could throw at you, and then some! You said you were the best for a reason. Then why...and how...
I put you here... We... put you here. I knew what it would take to defeat you... you did too. You just didn’t think I’d do it... you were wrong. I was wrong. You were wrong to think I was so noble... and I was wrong to go that far.
Yes, definitely remorseful.
The voice from beyond said other things - spoke of other warriors - and as the diatribe continued on, he found himself growing increasingly disenchanted by the voice and what it was saying. "This... warrior. He sounds weak."
"He is weak. Only by seeking his opponent's death could he achieve his defeat."
"And the other one. David. Was he strong?"
"Very. His power may yet endure - that much remains to be seen."
I’m leaving EHWF, David. I’m walking into WAR for just that...a War...a War with James Champ. A War with Roman Quartz. A War with myself...one last time.
There were a great many things about that last sentiment that he didn't understand. "The EHWF... ?"
"It would seem he's decided to leave the battlefield."
"What?!" He rounded on the Other, ignorant of the fact that there was no Other to be seen, even in spite of the physical proximity between them. "First he steals from and then attempts to kill his fellow warrior, this David. Then he decides to leave the battlefield, giving the final opportunity to visit upon him retribution for his crimes to another, one who is unworthy. And at the last, he visits David on his deathbed and proceeds to mock him with this knowledge?!"
Anger. It was there, already deep inside and yet still digging, somehow further inward and yet up and out at the same time. Wretch. Thief. Coward.
You’re better than this, David. Better than me, even. I always thought... when this moment came... when it was time to walk away... I always thought it would be you to end me. Part of me... a small part... even wished for it.
"He cannot be allowed to leave," the Other said.
"No..."
"Vengeance and retribution must be exacted. The toll must be paid unto whom the debt is owed."
"Yes..."
"Only he who has been wronged can be allowed to set things right."
"Yes."
That warrior mentality, I guess. It doesn’t die easily... and neither do you. Perhaps... in another life...
"In order to rise, you must find something worth rising for."
"Yes - wait." He turned to the other, still aware of how futile the gesture was and still incapable of stopping himself from performing it. "What?"
"Now rise."
It all came back to him then. The anger inside, white-hot and shapeless, began to cool. Form. Grow hard, and sharp, and lethal. He recognized the voice. Recognized its owner, and the sins he had committed, and the fact that above anything and everything else, he would not be allowed to withdraw into the night until he had received every last ounce of punishment that he was due.
The Other was no longer beside him. The cliff and the dark were no longer below him. He felt himself rising.
Goodbye... David.
Dallas, Texas. Baylor University Medical Center. Sixth floor, ER wing, room 6004. Amidst tubes and wires and machines and devices and light and shadow, two blue eyes opened wide, flaring bright and aware and angry.
No. Not yet. You will leave when I have banished you, and not. A second. Sooner.
END