A/N: (tries to tiptoe in quietly) AH! #!(Then she clumsily trips on her own big feet). Oh hi everyone looks nervous I finally updated, clears throat I really am sorry for not updating sooner. I know it's been a super long time, but school and work are oppressive and I've been enslaved by the two of them. At first I resisted their abuse but they finally broke my spirit and left me drained for some time. Anyway, now I am back, and I hope you can forgive me for the long delay.
In the first chapter I asked who y'all wanted to see in this fic and you said: TK, Gabumon, Tai and Kari. Out of all of those I thought Kari was an interesting pick since she doesn't really have an intimate relationship with Matt like the others, so I thought I'd experiment with an idea, let me know what you think. Also there's a little Tai seasoning in this chapter too.
Sc333: it's been a little over two years since season one and Our War Game has already taken place. So it's basically about a year before season two.
KazamaFangirl's: thanks for reminding me that I needed to update. I hadn't realized how long it had been until you e-mailed me. I hope this chapter was worth the wait for you.
Warning: this chapter is graphic (meaning there are some gross, demented scenes in here)… um please don't e-mail me complaining because I am giving you a fair warning. If you think these scenes are too much then I'll tone it down in future chapters, but if you like the unusual stuff then I'll keep at it.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Digimon, nor do I own The First Noble Truth, which can be found on Shadows Fall's album Of One Blood.
The Last Sway of The Pendulum
Part 2: Shattered Waste
This word's transparency
I see right through,
I walk alone,
As reality washes away
The faded memories of daylight,
This is my escape,
Realization of my mind's own deceit,
Perception slips away
Buried dreams that shadow me
I feel it's all been wasted
-The First Noble Truth, Shadows Fall
Night settled in the heavens, making its claim over the metropolitan and the people held within. Darkness and all of its loathsome mystery tried desperately to vein into the atmosphere, wishing to subject the population to a world of obscurity. But the people were not defenseless. As the darkness reached down its grip was halted and warded of by a sphere of artificial light witch radiated around the city.
The darkness screeched and hissed at the glaring halo that prevented it from spreading through the streets. But in the end all of night's objections were ineffectual, for no matter how spitefully it cursed the artificial rays the light would not fade and the darkness could not penetrate it.
The war between light and darkness seemed over as light claimed not only the day but also the night, but unbeknownst to the light the darkness had secured reserves that were more than prepared to continue the fight. Just as light had found a way to chase off the shadows so had darkness found a way to preserve them. And this preservation was carried by the tainted souls of this new generation.
Innocence should be found within the hearts of all babes, but this generation's innocence had long since been compromised by their forefathers. Neglect, knowledge, media, and expectation rob the youth of their childhood, replacing it with concerns and anger. Now the children harbor resentment, frustration, and confusion. Now they know nothing but their own bitter hollowness. A part of their soul is ripped from their bodies before an adequate replacement can be found; leaving a gap large enough for hate to fill. And so the youth become the tenebrific.
Great power is afforded to those willing to properly use the darkness. Many children carry within them the seeds of evil, but few ever recognize the power they hold. And so many of darkness' seeds shall never sprout and grow, they will remain dormant within a poisoned heart until at last that heart gives way and dies. But this matters little to evil as it has long since learned that the most valuable carriers of this disease are the reluctant ones. And just as darkness waited to find the perfect host so would it wait even longer for that host to acknowledge his gift.
What's happening to me? Am I insane?
The wind whistled through the air hitting pale flesh and tugging at golden locks causing its receiver to pull his knee closer to his chest.
What was that saying I read? Oh yeah, "We are all born mad, some of us remain so."
He laughed bitterly at the quote; to him it made perfect since. You are not born sane, you learn to be sane as you grow up. Because in order to be sane you must first know what sane behavior is.
When a kid says he believes in Santa Clause it's cute. When an adult says he believes in Santa Clause it's disturbing. So is the faith of a child a sign of insanity within adults. Do we reach a point where we are just too grown up for faith?
Perched upon the rim of a twenty-story balcony was a young teen. His ivory skin grew pinkish as the early winter wind lapped against it and his crystal eyes blurred with tears as the cool air caressed them. His golden hair danced around his face, but he ignored it as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Why must parents constantly try to fix their kids? Is it so wrong to believe in something? Is it so wrong for a kid to not be grown up?
My parents tried to fix me. They tried to change me, to conform me into their perfect child. I could understand if I was a bad kid and they wanted to teach me manners and all that other stuff, but I wasn't bad. I just wasn't normal, and that scared them.
Now I'm so screwed up that I'm hallucinating… they are just hallucination. They're not real.
Unwillingly he found his thoughts drifting to possibilities he didn't want to explore. The shadows of night, which were normally held at bay by the lights of the city, seemed to float closer to him. Hovering around him like flies buzz around reeking waste.
Why is this happening now? Why am I doubting myself now? Life's been so great for me since I got back from the digital world. I get to see TK all of the time. My dad's been paying more attention to me. Tai and I are best friends, and I have the other Digidestined. I have friends and they saved me from myself. I'm not alone anymore. So why? Why do I feel like nothing's changed? Why do I feel trapped again?
The blonde sighed in frustration before leaning his head back upon his apartment wall. He hated the feelings pulsing through him. He hated the loneliness, the confusion, and the fear that were slowly beginning to consume him, especially since he could find no justification for these feelings. He just could not understand where they originated from, nor could he understand the visions, which had been plaguing both his slumbering and waking world.
Maybe I was wrong to think that things would change… maybe what's wrong with me can never be fixed. Maybe that's my punishment for all of the wrong I've caused just by being alive. I should have never been born. I know that, but it's not my fault. I didn't ask to be born, so why am I being punished for it?
The artificial corona engulfing the city seemed to flicker, flashing off and then returning as a dim glow. The light was thinning, allowing darkness to sink closer to the city and the one calling to it.
The boy shook his head defiantly, wishing to banish the thoughts swelling in his mind, but his efforts were futile as he found that alone he was not strong enough to defeat his inner demons.
I've got to stop thinking about this! I've changed; I'm not alone anymore!
He tried to argue, but his will was slowly breaking down. And the weaker he became the darker the world around him grew. The many lights of the municipality began to gray like skin on a corpse once the blood has stilled and cooled. The world was loosing its distinction, transforming into lurid shades of inadmiacy.
The blonde's icy blue eyes widened as he looked out upon the metropolis. His pulse quickened as the city began to reflect his nightmares. His fears were becoming a vivid reality, and to him it looked like the city itself was dying.
He gritted his teeth, refusing to quake in the presence of this new delusion. Instead he pulled his numb fingers into fist and sat up straight upon the ledge. He tried to remind himself that there was no cause for fear, that it was merely his eyes playing tricks on him with the aid of twilight, but this did not chase the fear away.
"I'm okay, I'm just tired." he whispered mechanically, hoping that by speaking his argument his vision would clear and the golden lights of the city would once again shine nauseatingly in his eyes.
But the shadows were not amused by his objections, and his denial only seemed to fuel their power, giving them further access to the ignorant city below.
Once the blonde realized that his fight was ineffective he decided to simply end the nonsense by sliding off of his balcony ledge and returning to his lit apartment.
His bare feet tingled as they touched the cold concrete floor of the balcony, but he ignored the sensation and marched to the balcony's sliding glass door. He had left the glass door open so there was nothing to obstruct him from entering his apartment.
Humming Shadows Fall's The First Noble Truth he walked through the door then turned around before eyeing the tainted city. He smirked arrogantly as he looked at the vision that had troubled him so deeply only moments ago.
"Get a grip Matt," he snapped forcefully, "you're a little old to be scared of the dark." he reminded himself before he raised his right hand to the sliding door's handle.
It was not until metal clanged against metal that he finally released his grip upon the door's handle. Once his figures left the door handle he turned around and prepared to march further into his illuminated apartment.
Man I really am losing it. He concluded as he realized how absurd his behavior truly was. Mom always said that those Friday the Thirteenth movies were going to catch up with me, but I never listened.
Instantly he regretted his reminiscing as the mere thought of his mother reminded him that she was not there. His mother was not there, and had not been there for many years. And now he realized at last how completely still his home was. Nothing moved, nothing breathed, there was no life within his home at all.
The silence was so intense that he began to feel as though he were deaf. Deaf, or perhaps trapped, buried so deep under ground that noise could not reach him. The sound of his breathing seemed to fade in the void of silence around him. Suddenly he felt more trapped and more victimized than he had when the darkness was closing in on him.
Tap
And suddenly the silence was broken by a sound so soft that under normal circumstances he would not have taken notice of it at all, but in his paranoia the simple tap against the glass door seemed so extreme that he yelped in surprise before falling to his apartment floor in fright.
His eyes, which had shut the moment his knees hit the ground, slowly opened then narrowed upon the carpet beneath them. He felt disgusted and ill as his rational mind began to work through what had just happened. Something small and insignificant had wrapped against his sliding glass door, and yet he was the one quivering upon the floor like a pathetic animal.
With a dejected sigh he rolled over so that he was sitting Indian style and facing the balcony door. The terror, which had twisted his features seconds ago, had vanished; taking with it what little strength he seemed to have left. Now his face was still and indifferent, momentarily lost the energy to convey his emotions in a physical way.
"I am afraid!" he hissed as he glared out the balcony door. "Is that what you want? Okay then I admit it; I'm not rid of you! I'll never be rid of you!" he shouted, his voice ringing with hopelessness though his face remained unmoved.
He wasn't even certain what he was shouting at, but that did not stop the overwhelming feeling of defeat from washing over him. He had lost to this silent phantom. His enemy had won, and he was now at its mercy, and his enemy was more than delighted to show him how truly powerless he was.
Tap
Another brush against the glass, only this time he was able to see the cause of the noise. An insect kept flying into his closed door. The bug appeared to be a horsefly, and he watched in a daze as it hit the window, fluttered back, and then hit the window again.
There was nothing extraordinary about the horsefly hitting the glass door and yet the blonde found himself straining his eyes to get a better look at it. Insects rarely made it to his balcony, and the pest's mere presence seemed unnatural.
Tap
Tap
Tap
"What the?" He whispered in surprise as three more horseflies joined the first one. Together the four horse flies made a rhythm of soft taps against the glass, each taking its turn at the door before fluttering back and allowing the others a go.
Tap
Tap
Pea green and light yellow goo mixed with twitching insect limbs began to accumulate upon the glass door, and yet the swarm seemed to be growing.
What's going on? He wondered as he noticed how loud both the tapping and the flapping of transparent wings had become.
"Stop it!" he suddenly shouted as the noise from outside began to pound into his living room.
There was no longer a rhythm to the horseflies' wrapping; each one simple went as it chose. The insects had become so numerous that the unfortunate ones, which had become nothing more then splats against the door could easily be spared.
The fear once suppressed by curiosity now boiled up inside him, reaching every numb limb with its clawed fingers. Panting the blonde jumped to his feet, ready to run in any direction that would lead him away from the glass door and the swarm outside. But just as he began to remember where his feet where and how to move them the session of tapping was silenced by a new sound.
With trembling shoulders and shaky legs Matt forced himself to turn around and look. The swarm was hovering beyond the glass, their many wings buzzing like sharp thunder, and there on the lower left corner of the glass door was a crack. A small zig-zag line of space between two walls of glass, slithering its way up to the center of the door.
They're trying to get in. His thoughts began to run wild as he realized the swarm's intentions.
Tap
Tap
They began to hit the window again. The small crack in the bottom left corner slowly began to creep diagonally up to the center of the window. Smaller cracks began to branch off from the long, cavernous line and meander up and down the door.
Matt's heart was pounding and his pulse began to bang against his ear drums drowning out the sound of flapping wings, tiny impacts, and cracking glass. He wanted to continue with his earlier plan to run, but his orders to move never seemed to reach his legs and he remained frozen where he stood.
Tap
Tap
The crack in the window began to vein out until it looked like a cobweb spread across the door. The horseflies were now moving in unison. They hit the glass like a black and green title wave. The wave hit the door two times with a giant thump, but it was not until the third attempt that the assault produced the desired results. The insects came for the final strike and at last the abused glass door gave way.
Matt screamed both in shock and pain as many shards of sharp glass came raining upon him. The tiny crystals fell into his bare skin like splinters. A larger piece scrapped against his exposed knuckle on his left pinky, ripping off the flesh as it past. Other shards ripped at his clothes scratching the surface of the skin beneath.
Startled Matt fell back, crunching the glass beneath him and hitting his shoulder blades and head upon the floor. The wind was knocked out of him the moment he hit the ground, and now the glass beneath him was digging into his back. But there was no time to focus on these small ailments as the swarm from outside was now buzzing its way into his small living room.
The horseflies swooped in and began hitting the walls much like they had the glass door. The few pictures that hung on the white washed walls came crashing down as they were disturbed by the cloud of insects.
Matt did not notice the mess the insects were making of his living room, and at this point he would not have cared. He was still on the floor painting and clenching his teeth in pain when many of the horseflies came upon him. The tiny pest began to cover him, and he twitched as their hairy legs began to irritate his skin. Desperately he began to swat at the horseflies, but for every one he killed two more would begin buzzing around in its place. Then he tried shaking and rubbing his body, hoping to chase the bugs away, but once again his efforts were in vain as the horseflies merely flew off of him for a moment before returning in even greater numbers.
It was not until his right hand grew extremely irritated that he actually looked down to see what the insects were doing on him. To his surprised he saw that two horseflies had collected upon his torn up knuckle and were now using their twitching insect legs to dig deeper into the lesion. Then at last the pain that had remained unnoticed spread through his body and Matt found himself moaning and then screaming as he felt the horseflies picking and crawling upon his wounds.
"Stop it!" he half pleaded half cursed as he sat up and fumbled with his light green long sleeve shirt. Several of the horseflies found their way under his clothes and were now feasting upon his blood and torn flesh. Matt's shaky hands were barely able to pull the shirt over his bruised head and when at last he tossed the bloody and ripped cloth aside more insects dove to the now exposed skin.
"Get off me!" the blonde whimpered as he began to stroke his chest trying to dust the horseflies off. It was not until the fourth attempt that Matt stopped and looked down. As he tried to brush the insects off his sore hands mistakenly came across several bumps very close to one of his larger opened wounds. Surprised by the interruption of otherwise fairly even skin, he slowly looked down examining the bumps with his eyes before timidly touching them with his fingers.
With a yelp his jumped and then began to gag as his touch caused the bumps to twitch and move under his skin. He gagged and coughed a little bit longer, attempting to hold down the contents of his stomach, but eventually his nerves and his body could no longer take the movement under his skin and he began to vomit all over the glass and blood covered carpet.
The buzzing of the horseflies' wings began to grow louder before many of them flew past the queasy blonde and landed on the puddle of vomit. The bugs began to roll in the mess like a pig rolls in the mud on a hot summer day.
The sight of the bugs swimming in the yellow filth along with the smell of the vomit made the blonde even more queasy, but he forced down a second impulse to vomit as his stomach was now empty and he was feeling very dizzy and weak.
Gritting his teeth he turned back to his chest. The bumps were moving slowly up his torso and more had appeared close to the large cut above his bellybutton. To his surprise he could see the outline of tiny wings and antenna bubble out of his skin. The horseflies' bodies were perfectly distinguishable underneath his pale skin and he shuttered as they crawled and shook their wings inside him.
His mind was in a panic; he didn't know what to do, so in a frenetic defense he began pushing against one of the fly shaped bumps. He felt the bug squirm under the pressure of his finger. Chocking down another fit of nausea Matt pushed hard against the bump until it shrunk a bit and the squirming stopped.
After he had squashed the first bug under his skin he found himself completely drained. He didn't even want to attempt killing another insect inside him, so he gave into his weakness and fell back onto the glass littered floor. He curled his trembling body into a ball near the puddle of vomit before burring his face in his hands.
The horseflies continued to crawl under his skin and he could feel that more had entered the wound, but he did not move to see them, instead he merely cried and moaned into his pale hands, wishing there was a god to hear him.
Weakness, blood loss, and the sere terror of his situation at last took their toll upon him and he past out in a crumbled heap upon the ground. The last thing his mind registered was the feeling of one of the horseflies under his skin, reaching his throat.
"Wave your hands in the air like you don't care!"
She cringed as her brother's wailing managed to penetrate the glass balcony door. She had stepped out to the balcony for a little peace and quiet, but her brother's ability to annoy seemed to know no bounds as it pushed through the glass barrier separating them.
"Glide by the people as they start to look and stare!"
Reluctantly she peeped over her shoulder and looked into the small bedroom she shared with her older brother. The thirteen year old was jumping up and down and waving his hands around a hockey stick in a mock guitar performance.
"Do your dance, do your dance, do your dance quick!"
Upon the word quick he raised the hockey stick above his head and began to sway his hips and nod his head. Bushy chestnut hair flopped up and down with the tan teen's movement, but of course the most entertaining part of his performance was his choice of clothes. He wore a dark blue long sleeve t-shirt, red and green boxers, white socks and to top it all off a purple scarf was wrapped around his neck.
To the younger girl outside the boy looked absolutely ridiculous, but that did not stop a small smile from creeping upon her once solemn face. Despite the roll of her eyes she was actually very grateful for her big brother's prescience. It was amazing how the over exuberant teen could give even the bleakest nights a bit of color. And that's what she needed at this moment, color, laughter, light, anything but the lifeless gray haze stretching out before her.
The city seems so big and lonely tonight. Nothing about tonight feels right; it just all feels big and empty. Everything out there feels empty, barren… dead.
In her early youth she had never been a pessimist. Life was always full of promise and goodness, but as the years fell behind her so did her optimism. She wasn't certain when her thoughts had become so completely dreary; she hadn't even realized the change until a few days ago. It was like waking from a warm dream. One moment she was in Candy Land, Never Never Land, or Oz and the next she laid naked, rapped, and bleeding upon a dirty crowded street, where no stranger would stop and help her. Or at least that is how it felt to her. She didn't know then, and would not know for some time, that every person with reason, and even some without, has felt this chilling change. She did not know then that she was merely growing up.
Winter started and suddenly I was sad. I don't know why I've been so sad lately; I know I don't have a reason.
She argued in feeble attempts to remind herself that she had no reason to be melancholy, and yet there she remained staring out at the city covered in night and seeming as gray as her spirit.
Thump
She jumped as the sound of her older brother's body hitting the glass door broke through her miserable musing. Suddenly she heard the door sliding open and then…
"Word up! It's the code word! No matter where you say it, you know that you'll be heard!"
"Stupid Tai." she mumbled grumpily as the teen came up behind her and swung his arm over her shoulder.
She didn't greet her brother as she normally would; instead she kept her gaze fixed upon the city.
Tai waited patiently (for about two seconds) for his sister to acknowledge his presence, but he soon grew anxious from the stillness and the silence so at last he spoke.
"Hey Kari." he addressed her in a sly voice then waited, causing her to slowly turn her attention towards him.
"What?" she asked, slightly annoyed but mostly relieved that she was no longer alone upon the balcony.
Tai smiled broadly, and his dark brown eyes twinkled with mischief as he replied, "Word up."
Kari grunted and rolled her eyes before ducking under her brother's arm and freeing herself from his hold. "Grow up Tai." she ordered though she was giggling as she said it.
"No thank you." Tai replied in mock disgust. "Have you seen any grown ups lately, they're all wack and mature and stuff. Besides I don't think I've ever seen a happy grown up before in my life" he paused for a moment then added, "aside from Mimi's mom that is… and let's face it that whole family is not quiet all there, if you know what I mean."
Kari just stared at her older brother in disbelief as she wondered how she could possibly be related to such a goof, but then Tai smiled gently, almost knowingly, at her before he leaned against the balcony rail and turned his attention to the city.
"It's quiet tonight." he commented casually earning him a nod of agreement from his sister.
"I don't like it." Kari's expressed bitterly as she joined her brother by the rail. "Something feels wrong."
"Wrong?" Tai questioned in surprise. Over the years he had found that many of his friends, and his sister, possessed a sort of sixth sense that whispered vague secrets to them. He of course did not possess any such abilities, so he always took it seriously when Kari or any of the others had a "bad feeling" about anything. "What do you mean by wrong?" he asked softly, not wishing to upset his sister.
"Wrong… unnatural…unearthly…" Kari recited the words that seemed to describe her feelings best. "And dark." she stated almost as an after thought.
"I wonder what it could mean." Tai anounced a little concerned that he could get no more information from his sister than a few eerie adjectives.
"I don't know." Kari admitted then the two sibling fell silent as both looked upon the gray city. "But something isn't right."
He woke chocking and gagging on his own saliva. The lack of air along with the lingering taste of vomit sent gnawing pains through his burning lungs and aching stomached. Painfully he flinched and jerked on the ground, causing the glass beneath him to crunch and dig deeper into his incised skin. The fresh pain awoke knowledge of the old pain and the two mingled together until he could feel nothing but the sharp bites of glass.
Slowly he opened his eyes in an impuissant attempt to gain control of himself. A pale gray morning welcomed him. At first his vision was blurred, causing the gray light to seem bright and menacing like a thick cloud of smoke, but the light soon faded until it was nothing more than a dull winter glow.
Once his vision was clear he moved his eyes around trying to study his ransacked living room without moving any of his hypertonic muscles. Unfortunately, this limited his view to the ceiling, which had remained untouched throughout the entire raid.
Why am I still here? Didn't dad come home last night? Was he so beat that he just left me here… like this? Didn't he notice that I need help? I need someone to help me. Or maybe he came in, took one look at me and was so disgusted that he just turned around and left. Maybe he saw me and thought 'How could I have ended up with such a weak and worthless son?' . Maybe he finally saw me for the filth that I am, and he just couldn't take it, so he left me… just like mom left me.
Tears began to blur his vision and he suddenly felt light headed. His body began to tremble as the cold from outside stretched into his living room then fell upon him.
But maybe dad didn't come home. Maybe some emergency came up at work and he had to stay. Maybe he called last night and left a message on the voice box.
Suddenly a ray of hope shone through the gray mist, and for a moment his vision cleared and the world looked sharp and distinctive again.
"I've got to check the voice box." He murmured weakly.
He tried to move, but his limbs felt numb and lifeless.
"I've got to get up."
He announced, though his voice was hoarse and the words soft.
He wasn't expecting a reply to his thoughts, so when one came he flinched in surprise.
"Why?" a voice that was cold and lifeless questioned softly. "Why get up? Why not stay where you are, and wait?"
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he turned his head, causing a sharp pain to speed down his spine and through his arms and legs. He ignored the pain and it quickly lost its potency as other pains overtook it. Once his head was turned he opened his eyes and looked upon the person sitting next to him.
A boy, pale and cadaver sat beside him. His legs were crossed Indian style, his elbows were propped upon his legs and his chin rested in his hands. The boy's face was expressionless, lifeless, and dead. His lips were blue and small clouds escaped his mouth as he breathed. His eyes were a dull blue with a thin film glazed over them. The face was both hideous and frightening, even to the brave thirteen year old lying in a pool of blood and glass.
Matt wasn't easily frightened, but dead bodies unnerved him. Limp, lifeless corpses seemed to disturbed him in a way different than fear, but the feelings aroused were no less exhilarating. He felt his heart pound, his breath often caught in his throat, but it wasn't fear, at least not fear of the corpse.
"Wait?" Matt uttered through heaving breaths. "What am I waiting for?" he asked, curiosity was getting the better of him.
"For the waves." the boy replied in a strange, sickly voice.
For the first time Matt notice how the boy's dull blonde hair clung to his forehead and how tiny drops of murky water dripped from the dirty strands and slid down his exposed chest.
Did this boy drowned? Is that how he died?
Matt narrowed his eyes upon the corpse-child across from him. The only clothing the boy wore was a pair tattered black pants made of thin cotton-like material. The lack of clothing left the boy's thin pale body exposed, allowing Matt to see the pink scraps that decorated both the boy's chest and arms, but these wounds seemed more trivial than a scraped knee when compared to the gaping wholes in the boy's wrists.
Had he been crucified? Is that how this boy died?
Suddenly Matt was intrigued. In his weakened state delirium had begun to dull his mind, causing the full impact of the situation to seem far less fathomable.
"How did you die?" the questioned was casually and oddly friendly, as though he were simply asking a stranger where he was from.
The boy who had been looking around his companion's apartment suddenly jerked, then looked down. "I was sacrificed." the corpse explained as he looked down at the boy sprawled out upon the glass littered floor.
"Sacrificed?" Matt was suddenly more alert. He had not expected an answer.
"Yes." the boy confirmed, "I was taken to a temple and placed upon an alter, then," the boy paused for a moment as he lifted his wrist to show his companion, "she pierced my wrist and took my blood, my life. I could have been at peace, even after all that, if only she had left me lifeless and empty. I guess it just wasn't enough to take my life from me… I guess they just couldn't stop there."
Matt nodded his head to show he understood. He felt sympathetic, but he couldn't explain his feelings to his companion, after all he didn't even know the child.
Matt shifted his position just slightly and was suddenly reminded of the glass beneath him as a few pieces twisted in his skin.
"I need to get up." he explained to the boy, using the same casual tone he had used for the rest of the conversation.
"You can get up, but there's really no point. Why not just stay there and wait."
Matt looked at the corpse-child puzzled by his words. "Wait for what."
The boy's eyes seemed to grow dark and almost menacing for a moment before his sickly voice answered. "Wait for the waves." he stated as a smug smirk suddenly spread across his face. "You can try to run and hide, but the waves always find you in the end. So why not just save yourself the trouble and wait for them… wait for her."
Matt suddenly felt his heart pounding. He didn't understand this new fear, but he was certain that he had felt it before. Now the strange corpse-child no longer seemed so innocent. "But I'm… I'm not ready." he stuttered weakly, hoping to by himself some time.
The boy's eyes narrowed and grew cold. "It doesn't matter." he hissed, "You've had long enough. She's coming for you, whether you're ready or not."
Matt had never felt so much anguish and fear all at once. It couldn't be time. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to go back. The last thing he ever wanted was to go back… to her.
Now at last his confusion cleared and he knew who this Herald of Doom was. The shadows of his painful past rose up like a title wave threatening to spill over him, gripping him in the black water and caring him off to a word he never whished to return to.
The darkness is coming for me. Now I remember the waves. But how could I have ever forgotten… that I am a ghost.
The sound of metal hitting metal drove the corpse-child away and brought Matt out of his hopeless thoughts, though his eyes remained shut as sleep threatened to take him.
The key turned in the doorknob, and the front door squeaked open. Then there was a gasp, as though someone's breath had been ripped from his throat.
The sound of feet pounding upon the floor as someone raced to his side caused Matt to open his eyes and look. Once his sight adjusted he saw his father leaning over him. The large man's body was trembling with uncontrollable fear and concern, and his brown eyes were clouded with tears.
Matt felt sorry for the worry in his father's eyes, and he suddenly whished he could comfort the man. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but the night long exposure to the cold air had finally taken its toll, wiping his voice away like sand paper files off stains on wood.
"Matt," the older man pleaded, "Oh Heaven, lay still son." he exclaimed, pain radiating in his voice. "I'm going to call an ambulance." he explained as he quickly rose and rushed to the phone in the kitchen.
Matt's vision began to darken, blocking out the gray of winter and submerging him in a sea of black. The last thing his mind registered was the sound of his father's panic voice crying out to heaven.
Heaven can't hear you dad. I'm dead to heaven now, just as I'll be dead to you soon.
And then darkness took him.
And there you have it folks the second chapter of The Last Sway of The Pendulum. Freaky stuff, I know. So as usual please let me know what you think, also feel free to offer suggestions, even if I can't use them due to plot conflicts I still take them to heart, and will try to do something similar.
Oh I also wanted to let all of the artist out there know that The Fallen Ones now has its own oekaki board. If you're into fanart check it out and if you like what you see join the board. The address for
The Fallen Ones is on my profile page; you can get to the board by going to the site.
Until next time…