Title: Vanquish Fandom/original: It has a fandom in my head, but it's not necessary to read it. It could just as easily be original. Rating: PG at least, for allusions to violence. Word count: 231
Surely they'd been lost, destroyed, forgotten over too many years. Only they weren't. They came back during dark afternoons and restless nights. Dreams of voices he'd known and touches his body still remembered despite his best efforts to forget. Those were his demons that he'd never lose.
To be honest, he wasn't even sure he wanted to lose them anymore. If he did forget, would he still be able to remember why he did what he did? Would it still have meaning? So eventually, after so many years, he'd quit trying to forget. Each pull of the trigger became more meaningful. The flow of blood became more calming. He could hear their voices laughing and singing again. He could feel them every night and while he woke up heartbroken each time, he still woke refreshed. If that was the only time he was allowed to have them, he'd take it. Absorb the hurt like so many punches, like the brick wall that he was. Soak it in and take it and save it for the right opportunity to let it out again.
He knew that in the end, he'd be the only thing lost. There wasn't a way to win this war and he accepted that. He didn't believe the ends justified the means. He only did what he had to do in the time he had to do it in.
no subject
Fandom/original: It has a fandom in my head, but it's not necessary to read it. It could just as easily be original.
Rating: PG at least, for allusions to violence.
Word count: 231
Surely they'd been lost, destroyed, forgotten over too many years. Only they weren't. They came back during dark afternoons and restless nights. Dreams of voices he'd known and touches his body still remembered despite his best efforts to forget. Those were his demons that he'd never lose.
To be honest, he wasn't even sure he wanted to lose them anymore. If he did forget, would he still be able to remember why he did what he did? Would it still have meaning? So eventually, after so many years, he'd quit trying to forget. Each pull of the trigger became more meaningful. The flow of blood became more calming. He could hear their voices laughing and singing again. He could feel them every night and while he woke up heartbroken each time, he still woke refreshed. If that was the only time he was allowed to have them, he'd take it. Absorb the hurt like so many punches, like the brick wall that he was. Soak it in and take it and save it for the right opportunity to let it out again.
He knew that in the end, he'd be the only thing lost. There wasn't a way to win this war and he accepted that. He didn't believe the ends justified the means. He only did what he had to do in the time he had to do it in.