A.N.~ A very MILD PG- 13 for Thematic Elements. I was inspired to write this shortly after reading the novel based on the movie 'the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen' and after I saw it today I was even more so inspired.
WARNING! SPOILS THE END OF THE MOVIE THE LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN!!!
Disclaimer~ I do not own LXG (if I did then Rodney Skinner would be mine!) and neither do the people that made the movie.... The characters belong to authors and comic book writers! But the plot is the producer's/director's/writer's so I'm sorry for stealing it but I'll give it back!
~*~*~*~*~*
The Sweetest Sin
I don't know where I am. I don't know how long I have been here. All I know is that I am here and I am in pain. Whoever has been set upon me to torture me must be very clever indeed, for I feel very little pain on my body, only in my heart and in my mind, for my tormentor tortures me with the things I once had, he parades them before my face all the time, bring them tantalizingly within my reach, so close that I reach out to try and snatch the things he offers me, but as i come within a hair's breadth of them I feel the chains yank me back.
The chains... They are made of some unbreakable metal, and when I look upon them I see that each one represents my every sin, and there are so many, so, so many. When I look up all I see is my portrait, not in the youthful likeness it must be now, where you are, but in the leprous, oozing, ghastly symphony of horror it was when I again looked upon it, when you showed it to me.
When you murdered me.
Sometimes my tormentor brings me food, delicious delicacies and rare wines that make my mouth water, but I cannot reach them, for my sins hold me back. They keep me from the real world, from you.
Sometimes I see every lie I told and the devastating consequences they caused, and I cringe and try to shut my eyes but if I do I still see it, burned into my brain as if with a white-hot brand. Over and over and over again I see myself killing Ishmael, betraying you all, and I see the devastating consequences it wrought to my horror, and when I see you grieving at the side of Allan Quatermain's grave I know that I am crying although I can hardly feel the tears.
Sometimes beautiful women parade themselves before me, coming tantalizingly close and teasingly, seductively caressing my body, then disappearing with a cackle as I try to sate my lust. Gradually I have learned to resist them, my past lovers, and so one day my tormentor brought me another.
You.
I cannot resist the allure of your touch, the fire in your gilt-green eyes, the sweet, euphoric pleasure you always gave me even after countless years of making love to countless women, and it breaks me time and time again when you turn coldly away, leaving me to stare at my picture. So I fall, fall away from this place of torment and into memories of a sweeter time, when I was with you. Yet those memories too are torture, such sweet torture, to ALMOST feel your body against mine, to hear your voice, even as you told me to face my inner demon, mercilessly killing me. I see the way I loved you and I hate myself for it, for I never gave you what you needed and wanted, the true love you deserved.
I got what I deserved, you showed me the truth of my soul, and I could not love you more for it. I hope someday you get what you deserve: someone who truly loves you. I had my time with you, and if it was a crime for me to love you the way I did, Mina Harker...
Loving you was my sweetest sin.
~ Fin ~
~*~*~*~*
A.N.~ JSYK, this was written from the present-tense perspective of Dorian Gray after he has died... So basically, he's in hell because he was a naughty boy.
WARNING! SPOILS THE END OF THE MOVIE THE LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN!!!
Disclaimer~ I do not own LXG (if I did then Rodney Skinner would be mine!) and neither do the people that made the movie.... The characters belong to authors and comic book writers! But the plot is the producer's/director's/writer's so I'm sorry for stealing it but I'll give it back!
~*~*~*~*~*
The Sweetest Sin
I don't know where I am. I don't know how long I have been here. All I know is that I am here and I am in pain. Whoever has been set upon me to torture me must be very clever indeed, for I feel very little pain on my body, only in my heart and in my mind, for my tormentor tortures me with the things I once had, he parades them before my face all the time, bring them tantalizingly within my reach, so close that I reach out to try and snatch the things he offers me, but as i come within a hair's breadth of them I feel the chains yank me back.
The chains... They are made of some unbreakable metal, and when I look upon them I see that each one represents my every sin, and there are so many, so, so many. When I look up all I see is my portrait, not in the youthful likeness it must be now, where you are, but in the leprous, oozing, ghastly symphony of horror it was when I again looked upon it, when you showed it to me.
When you murdered me.
Sometimes my tormentor brings me food, delicious delicacies and rare wines that make my mouth water, but I cannot reach them, for my sins hold me back. They keep me from the real world, from you.
Sometimes I see every lie I told and the devastating consequences they caused, and I cringe and try to shut my eyes but if I do I still see it, burned into my brain as if with a white-hot brand. Over and over and over again I see myself killing Ishmael, betraying you all, and I see the devastating consequences it wrought to my horror, and when I see you grieving at the side of Allan Quatermain's grave I know that I am crying although I can hardly feel the tears.
Sometimes beautiful women parade themselves before me, coming tantalizingly close and teasingly, seductively caressing my body, then disappearing with a cackle as I try to sate my lust. Gradually I have learned to resist them, my past lovers, and so one day my tormentor brought me another.
You.
I cannot resist the allure of your touch, the fire in your gilt-green eyes, the sweet, euphoric pleasure you always gave me even after countless years of making love to countless women, and it breaks me time and time again when you turn coldly away, leaving me to stare at my picture. So I fall, fall away from this place of torment and into memories of a sweeter time, when I was with you. Yet those memories too are torture, such sweet torture, to ALMOST feel your body against mine, to hear your voice, even as you told me to face my inner demon, mercilessly killing me. I see the way I loved you and I hate myself for it, for I never gave you what you needed and wanted, the true love you deserved.
I got what I deserved, you showed me the truth of my soul, and I could not love you more for it. I hope someday you get what you deserve: someone who truly loves you. I had my time with you, and if it was a crime for me to love you the way I did, Mina Harker...
Loving you was my sweetest sin.
~ Fin ~
~*~*~*~*
A.N.~ JSYK, this was written from the present-tense perspective of Dorian Gray after he has died... So basically, he's in hell because he was a naughty boy.