FP 100 Prompt Fic Challenge
Who: Jolly Jones and Demian Zalyams'ki What: FP 100 Prompt Fic Challenge When: July 8th 2008 Where: Outside, on Hogwart's parapets and stuff. Not Beta'd
Disclaimer: This fic is part of a game, but the world itself and many of the characters are copyright and owned by various other authors and companies. No infringement is intended. We're just RPGing and having fun. This fic is part of a 'challenge' within the game.
Whispers on the edge of his mind, he ignores them. Tries to anyway. But they reach out with shadowy fingers and grasp at him, trying to dig their long talons into his brain. Scraping and cutting open his gray matter and scoop out what makes him him.
If he closes his eyes or stands still for too long, it'll edge up to him and rip away what is left. Rip it away and leave a gibbering wreck on the floor and he'll be nothing at all.
Nothing at all. That is what is left of the real Judas. Nothing at all. Betrayed and destroyed, instead of betraying and destroying. All that he was was gone, and who had done it? Who had 'saved him' only to kill him? His own grandfather. Who the hell is Jolly Jones? Was he real? Was he a mask? Neither. Both? He didn't even know anymore.
He focused on the insane idea of getting Demian and Data to have a baby, but he knew it was just a silly idea. It wasn't real. It wasn't something he could really do. But it was a whimsical game that would distract him from the demons in his mind. The ones that would drive him round the bend further and could cause him to lash out and hurt that which he actually loved and cared for.
He laughed and joked and ran and frolicked and none saw the look of terror in his eyes. The fear. The hate. The horror. The horror he saw when he closed them and saw everything wrong with himself and his 'world'. He told people he didn't remember his human life, but that was no longer true. Not anymore. He remembered and it was a curse. A curse to remember and wish he could undo two thousand years of history and yet not, because he was still proud of his part in it, all the same.
Even as he chased Demian around the grounds, shouting and hollering... laughing? He was on the verge of hysterical crying. He felt out of control inside, he wanted to tear his fingernails down his face and rip the skin, feel the blood ooze down. He wanted to feel the pain and have it bring him some measure of reality and get rid of the surreal feeling that was aching through him and making him wonder if he was dreaming or if this was really happening.
He screamed, inarticulate and animalistic, howling and laughing again as Demian protested and ducked under his hands and away. But he was almost desperate to catch Demian, not to force him to ejaculate in the cup, but because life was fleeting and he felt like at any second he'd open his eyes and it would all be gone again. Another thousand years had passed, leaving him missing those who were but the beat of a butterfly's wings in time. They would die, and he would forget for a while, and then someday? He'd remember and the curse would course through him and he'd scream to the heavens and nothing would hear him or bring him solace.
His life was not at an end, and he knew it wouldn't be for many many more years. Centuries yet. Centuries were ahead of him, and he would not end. But for a moment, he considers diving down onto a spire. Diving down and letting it pierce his chest, and bleed out till he was but dust on the wind. Let him die. Let him go. Release him. Free him.
But he doesn't do it. No. He doesn't dive, instead he jumps and flies off the spire and beats down the stones running after Demian. And it feels like it has always been this way. Why was he chasing Demian? He could not remember, the hands are in his head, squeezing his brain and he wants to cry. Scream with the fear and pain, but instead, he just keeps chasing Demian. Focus on Demian. Even if he don't remember why...
Because so long as he runs. It means 'it' hasn't caught up to him yet!