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(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

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"Pride! Pride and ego! We keep telling ourselves that we can <strong>be</strong> something,<br />

that we mean something, that there's a reason we're here, but in the end...<br />

in the end it's all just blackness. I've seen that final blackness and there's no<br />

reason <strong>to</strong> deny it. Yet we keep pushing on out <strong>of</strong> foolish pride. There's no<br />

reason <strong>to</strong> it."<br />

It was like balancing a glass glo<strong>be</strong> on the tip <strong>of</strong> a spear, trying <strong>to</strong> <strong>be</strong> delicate<br />

yet <strong>not</strong> patronizing, firm yet <strong>not</strong> scolding. Any moment he could hang<br />

himself, and I needed <strong>to</strong> keep him talking, "Look, I'm here <strong>to</strong> help. I'm here<br />

<strong>to</strong> listen."<br />

"I see... send a concerned stranger <strong>to</strong> talk me out <strong>of</strong> it, eh? Ha!" The voice<br />

dropped <strong>to</strong> a conspira<strong>to</strong>rial <strong>to</strong>ne. "Did they tell you could join 'em if you just<br />

came <strong>to</strong> talk <strong>to</strong> me? Did they think it would make you care more? If you had<br />

seen half the things I'd seen... just half the things I'd seen..."<br />

"What have you seen?"<br />

"I have seen horrors <strong>be</strong>yond imagining. I have seen a twisted, <strong>to</strong>rtured god,<br />

bound by laughing fiends. I have seen a layer <strong>of</strong> the Abyss distill itself in<strong>to</strong><br />

the essence <strong>of</strong> a single individual... I have seen all the laws <strong>of</strong> nature<br />

perverted and I have seen all the truths <strong>of</strong> man turned upside-<strong>do</strong>wn. None<br />

<strong>of</strong> it makes sense <strong>to</strong> me anymore, and I can<strong>not</strong> <strong>be</strong>ar it any longer! What's<br />

the point, I ask you, what's the point?"<br />

I tried <strong>to</strong> smooth my voice, make it s<strong>of</strong>ter than the normal low, guttural<br />

growl, "You have no idea what I have seen, San<strong>do</strong>z. I've lain in the sands <strong>of</strong><br />

the Silent Shore, felt the icy waves <strong>of</strong> the River Styx lapping at my cold flesh.<br />

I've seen the darkness at the end <strong>of</strong> every nightmare, felt the hollow where<br />

a man's essence should rest. You <strong>do</strong>n't see me threatening <strong>to</strong> kill myself."<br />

There is a short, sharp breath from <strong>be</strong>hind the <strong>do</strong>or, and then a low,<br />

unamused chuckle. "You're <strong>not</strong> much on tact, are you? What if I <strong>to</strong>ld you I<br />

had my head in a noose right this instant?"<br />

"I'd tell you that if it's <strong>do</strong>ne wrong, it's a particularly uncomfortable way <strong>to</strong><br />

go. Trust me, I know from experience," granted, I hadn't quite died by<br />

hanging yet, but I've had my neck snapped enough times <strong>to</strong> know, "So why<br />

<strong>do</strong>n't we just talk?"<br />

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