Disclaimer: This is a Dark Song fic. Tho it’s not really the longest story in the world. I think it tells a much needed detail in the continuum. Or at lest, one that some of us have grown accustom to. Legal mombo jumbo: Snively and related characters are (C) Sega and Archie Corporations. I do not own them and they are used without permission. The Song “PaperCut” is by Linkin Park Enjoy.
Ten Seconds
C. Kitchens
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Why does it feel like night today?
Something in here’s not right today.
Why am I so uptight today?
Paranoia’s all I have left.
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Ten Seconds. Have I ... any sense of compassion? The weight in my hands feels ten fold then it has ever in my life. Dead weight. The impression of steel snug deeply into the left hand. True power, this is a real man’s cock. Not like the one that shames and humiliates me in the hands of others. This cock will never misfire. Its aim is true. Yet, I still cannot bring myself to use it. I feel the need to prove myself with such maleness. I am a man.. am I not? Even though my statue is but a mere four feet. Lanky, lean, lithe. All my life discriminated, mocked and tormented for simply not being man enough?
I can’t take it anymore. Crystalline icy blues , my weakest yet most predominate feature flicker to the gun I have held in both small hands. So why am I sitting here? Uncle told me twenty minutes ago to report my skinny little ass to the control room. I could have done it then, instead of wasting time staring at the confounded weapon with my heart on my sleeve. I have to do it... I can’t stand it anymore.
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I don’t know what stressed me first,
Or how the pressure was fed/But
I know just what it feels like
To have a voice in the back of my head..
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Nine Seconds. I am wasting time. Again I lift the heavy metal and place it into my mouth. This feeling I know too well. Simple power upon the back of my throat. You’d think someone as unimportant as I am, always lurking behind and never respected would not have to deal with such issues. Yet, not even a simple lackey like I can escape the torments of the perversion of others. Like that Android. My uncle’s perfect son. He always took pleasure in causing me torment. And in the most horrific ways. The most dismayed point was I grew to like the constant hazing and late night visits . I can taste it. It tastes just as he would have. An evil yet sweet taste that lingers on my tongue like so many cigarettes on a coffee break.
It’s an addiction. One I can’t shake, one I have to end. Now. My teeth bite down hard upon the length in my mouth. My eyes squeezing shut. Short scarred digits applying just a minimum of pressure to the trigger.
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It’s like a face that I hold inside
A face that awakes when I close my eyes
A face watches everytime I lie
A Face that laughs everytime I fall.
( and watches everything. )
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Eight Seconds. Oh God. The weight upon my tongue makes me quiver. I can feel wetness beginning to leak from those beautiful hues of mine. Those tears slid down my pale cheeks, and down scars that -he- caused. And then, like that Nightmare..
“Snively what the Fuck are you doing? You were supposed to be here ten fucking minutes ago!”
I ignore my uncle’s snarling voice over the intercom. I press the weapon deeper into my throat. It is quivering in my hands. Oh God, if I don’t do this... He will only hurt me more. I can’t take another beating.
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So I know that when it’s time to sink or swim,
That the Face is hearing me/ Right inside my skin.
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Seven Seconds. My uncle’s voice booms again. I drown it out. I can’t let him hurt me anymore. I can’t take another scar to my pitiful little body. I can’t let him, or Packbell hurt me, use me. It’s driving me mad. Every night, every day, I just want to end it. My tears have begun to wet my shirt. I can feel them cooling in just the fraction of a second that they fall. The static between yelling curses is overwhelming I can feel it in my bones. Oh god, give me strength.
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It’s like I’m/ paranoid lookin’ over my back.
It’s like a/ whirlwind inside of my head.
It’s like I/ can’t stop what I’m hearing within.
It’s like the face inside me is right beneath my skin
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Six Seconds. I go to squeeze my finger, but I just can’t. Oh god. I can’t stop crying. I open my eyes to stare up at the ceiling but all I see is their faces. All of them. My uncle, the android, even that fucking hedgehog. They're all laughing. Laughing at pitiful little Snively. They're telling me I don’t have the balls to go and knock my self. I’ll show them.. I will. My uncle is becoming pissed, every fraction of time is interrupted with a booming command.
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I know I’ve got a face in me.
It points all my mistakes to me.
You’ve got a face on the inside too.
Your paranoia is probably worse.
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Five Seconds.
“Snively.. dammit FUCK!”
Tears are falling like rain. My whole body is shivering in my uniform. I am staring blankly at the ceiling. The faces are gone. But I can still hear them laughing.
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I don’t know what set me off first/ but I know what I can’t stand.
Everyone acts like that the fact of the matter is,
I can’t add up to what you can.
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Four seconds. I open my eyes. It’s silent for just a moment. Another curse flings through the room. My hand tightens on the handle of the gun.
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But everyone has a face that they hold inside
A face that awakes when they close their eyes.
A face that watches everytime they lie.
A face that laughs everytime they fall.
( and watches everything)
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Three seconds. There is silence across the intercom still. My eyes close again. I can’t hear them or see them. All I can sense is my own pain.
“Snively?”
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So you know that when it’s time to sink or swim,
That the face is watching you/ right beneath your skin.
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Two Seconds.
“Sniv..ely?”
I pull the trigger.
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The sun goes down.
I feel the light betray me.
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One second.
End.