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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2054774
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Sci-fi · #2054774
The end of the world is happening, and all because he couldn't help but love her.
Chapter 1
The Last Remarks to Make

He ran at the door, his breath raspy and strained. His stamina was deteriorating by the second. Grasping at the handle, he made his way into the room. He didn't turn as he slammed it shut, knowing good and well what was behind him, what wanted him.....who wanted him.

The thought of the hands that had been wrapped around his neck just moments ago sent shivers down his spine. He raised his hand to touch the red marks he knew would still be there, the soreness already resting in his esophagus.

Was it from the choking or the yelling.....or the simple act of not saying everything he wanted? That hurt the most. Keeping in everything he wanted out so badly. All he had wanted to say for so long, ever since he started this mess again. Just to meet the same fate, just to meet the same need to run and reach for the pen and write down the suggestions, the new changes to be made to the new life, the new version that hopefully, hopefully, wouldn't end this way.

The room was just as he had left it. Desk with papers thrown everywhere, a dozen monitors across the far wall, pens and pencils used beyond usefulness skewed in various places. And the most dominate part of the room; the writing all over the walls. He knew it looked crazy, but it didn't matter. It wouldn't be seen by anyone else and he needed it in order to know.....know for the next round. It was the only way the information would keep.

A cry of vengeance echoed through the door.

"No...no....no..." he mumbled to himself. He rushed to find a pen that worked. Scribbling on the palm of his hand to check the ink level, he went through three pens before he finally spotted a pencil sharpened to the nub of metal holding an all but gone eraser.

Rushing, he grabbed for it and tried to find a spot on the eastern wall to write. All the rambling inside his brain collected onto six walls had seemed like a great idea.....400 years ago. Now, there were too many notes, too many forgotten trains of thought that had crashed on the container that held this despairing man at the end of his...his....well, his life, if he was honest with himself.

He heard the door tear open. He didn't look behind him, but instead kept searching for a spot. He knew what he would see. It was what he saw every time he looked back for the last 20 times.

He would be met with long, lush raven hair, a heart shaped face, a slightly upturned nose, a pair of lips just off rose red with a larger bottom lip than top. He would travel down the body of sharp shoulders, full breasts, an hourglass figure with thick hips and curved calves, to end at tiny feet with button toes. She weighed exactly 156.7 pounds, 5'4, with 20/20 eyesight and above genius intelligence. And those thighs held no gap, but they could hold a man down with incredible strength.....

He tried to not be aroused as he thought of how gorgeous she was, of how animalistic she got in the throes of passion, how fantastic she smelled, felt, sounded. He knew she wouldn't care about any of that right now. She never did. Once she found out....she didn't care. And once he turned around, he would see the lack of passion, caring....love in her beautiful and perfect grey eyes.

They looked like a fog settling in the morning when she first awoke; they looked like a smoke from a fire when she was deep in thought; they looked like a newly created storm when she was in the middle of releasing her lioness nature. Now they would be hard as stone, and as cutting as diamonds.

Not that he blamed her, of course. She had just found out that everything she had ever known was just.......thought up and created just so they could come to this point.

"Turn around, coward. I want to see you as your blood taint the floor." She growled with venom dripping in her velvet voice.

He stayed looking at the wall, knowing she wouldn't be able to kill him. She never could, but in the end, always did. She wasn't the killing type. Her heart was gold. Everything about her was perfection. Until there was one thing that could be changed; then everything had to go.

He always thought this would be the time. This would be the time that she was finally perfection and he never would have to tell her and they could just live. But, after the 10th time, he realized how hopeless it was to believe so. She would never be his. He had created her. Had made her to his idea of perfection and therefore.....she would never be perfection.

Still, he had to believe in something. He couldn't believe in God....he was God. He couldn't believe in a new beginning, he always knew the beginning because he wrote it. He couldn't believe in anything. Nothing but hope that once, he would never again have to lose the only thing, the only person he ever loved.

He finally found a spot on the wall, just big enough to write four or five words.Silver chips in eyes.He couldn't change her personality. He couldn't change her thoughts. He couldn't change the course of what happened. He had tried and had only been more hurt because he did.

He turned slowly after finishing his inscription. He kept his eyes on the ground, not ready to see the hatred in hers. "You don't need to do this..."he pleaded.

"How could you ask that of me? After everything you've done? You think I can just.....just forget that you basically created me to destroy me? That you made me fall in love with you just to pick out my imperfections? That you....You never really cared, that I was just a science experiment, just another trick of the Lord to see how far you could make this go?"

Every word she said hit him like daggers to the heart.

"The people I loved have died because of you. You took away everything I ever cared about because you COULD. "

"No, no I didn't. I have to do this. You don't understand. If I don't, you suffer..." he tried to plead with her. She wouldn't listen to it though. She knew what she wanted and she knew she wasn't going to get it any more than he was.

“Who has told you that you have to do this? Huh? Who said, you need to make a universe and a world and a country and a state and a city and a person and a heart that could love you just completely discard it once it no longer fit the criteria?” Her voice kept getting softer and softer.

He could see the hurt in her sagging posture. He knew what he did to her. He hadn’t meant it though. “Please, I just wanted you. You are perfect to me. I just…..you’re not there yet. We will still be together when it starts over…”

She squinted at him, slowly approached like a cat with her prey. “And what do you think it feels like to just stop living? You live forever! You never stop breathing, thinking, feeling. I have to stop and then start all over, not even knowing who I am or what I mean until you find something wrong with me!”

He had heard her screams time and time again; he had seen her crumble as the agony took her; he had looked into her raging storm eyes and felt the heart he swore he had break into a million pieces. Over and over and over, he had gone through the torment of watching her die and it killed him every time.

She never knew that. Should he have told her before, he wondered. Should he tell her now? No. He couldn’t. They didn’t have much time anymore. He needed these last moments to ask her the question he always asked that always put the bullet into his skull. “I know it’s selfish for me to ask, but I need you to do something for me.”

“Why should I do anything for you?”

He looked at her pleadingly. He knew his eyes had never quite met hers, but he was waiting. It was sadistic but he loved looking at her eyes in those last moments, the ones where she finally knew and he didn’t have to hide. “Please. I just need you to answer something for me.

“She looked cautious. She didn’t know what he wanted but his tone of voice had set her off guard. She had just tried to kill him, threatened him, cut him down. Now he wanted something from her and was asking like a dying man for a drink of water. She crossed her arms across her chest, shifting from one foot to another. “What is it?”

“Answer me this, and then it can all be over. What is the meaning of life?”

“How am I supposed to know that? You’re God, you should know.”

“Please. Answer. Please.”

“It’s…….it’s……” A burst of light came from her mouth, her back arching, her eyes filling with raindrops from those heavy storm clouds.

The noise of anguish filled his ears.

Her arms spread out, and she was lifted up into the air.

He never knew what was happening when this occurred but it happened each time. Her gaze stayed locked on his. He dropped to his knees. “ANSWER! IT WILL BE OVER IF YOU JUST ANSWER!”

Her body convulsed, her entire being turning into light and flesh and pain and agony and nothing and everything. She was perfection in the way that silence is perfection; so quite yet so loud. The light shone brighter and brighter and her cries became louder and louder.

“ROSALIND, JUST SAY IT!!!!!” He could barely make out her answer when she whispered for the first time since the beginning of what seemed like her never ending destruction.

“You, Alexander. It’s you.”

Edits made by Timtu.
© Copyright 2015 Belle Irene Trammell (belleirene at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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