posted on Mar, 1 2004 @ 08:05 AM
Chapter 16: Intermission
John nodded gravely at Deus/Chris as he handed his weapons across the counter of the weapons check- all except his sword. He had given his guns a
quick cleaning, but judging by the way JB’s eyes bulged, he hadn’t done that great a job. Oh, of course the old man knew what had happened out there.
He didn’t know what to think as Deus nodded and turned away without a word. It obviously wasn’t easy on him. JB just watched Deus leave. Splotches of
blood has been showing through his bandaged already. He wore only his pants, his boots, and his sword. DE’s body had accumulated a vast number of
nicks, cuts and bruises over the course of his stay at the bunker, and a great many of them were on display without a shirt. Cuts and bruises ran the
length of both arms, and across his chest. He walked away. Deus didn’t care at the moment. He was numb to the core.
Deus looked down on everyone as they continued to work, dawn breaking bright and red beyond them just above the black spires of the surrounding pine
forest. He features were dark as he watched the non-combatant’s furtive glances at him. One brought out a radio, slipped in a few batteries and let
the CD play. Of course, it was one of Deus’s that someone had teefed. The person flicked through the songs quickly, listening to each only for a few
seconds before finding the one they wanted. With a pointed look at DE, the song began and the person below walked away fromt eh speakers, going back
The music drifted throughout the compound, loud enough for everyone to hear without being blasted.
Every finger in the room...
Deus was immediately captivated by the music. Whoever had played this song knew him well enough to play. It calmed it, brought thought to the void in
his head. It brought sadness into the numbness.
Is pointed at me...
He hated the way everyone stared at him. They didn’t know about the way it was out there. They didn’t know anything.
I wanna spit in their faces...
He and his men had seen more combat than anyone in the bunker, save maybe TheDemonHunter. He and his men had walked straight into the devil’s mouth a
number of times without so much as a thank you from the others.
Then I get afraid of what that might bring...
‘MORON’, he told himself, ‘of course they don’t thank you. You scare them #less! What a way to live, eh? What a way to live. So alone. Why do I live
Got a bowling ball in my stomach...
Saucerat puked. He was still trembling. He hated the way he felt after each battle. He did his best to fight, to help the others, but it wasn’t
enough. Morrison was dead, and he was directly responsible.
Got a desert in my mouth...
SR leaned against the toilet bowl, panting. He was as lucky as could be expected in some ways. He had a beautiful girlfriend, a command, and a great
friend in DeusEx. He was a year or two younger than his leader, and looked up to him.
Figures that my courage would choose to sell out now...
“I wish I was a hero,” he whispered to himself. “Because then, Morrison would be alive. Less people would have gotten hurt. I wish I was like DE.” He
remembered lying in the dirt, listening to the gunfire fly past him, barely able to poke his head up while DE ran straight into that fire. Why, he
asked himself, can’t I be like DE?
I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty streets...
Gothique leaned quietly on the porch, nursing a flesh wound quietly. She looked at the people, frantically digging and building. Saucerat was her
savior. He had caught he in the darkest of her days, and shown her the light.
Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets...
Because of that, she was with him. Sometimes, it didn’t feel right to her. He was great. Saucerat was warm, friendly, caring, attentive...but
sometimes when she held him, it just didn’t feel right...
I’ve been raising up my hands...
That was why she put on the song. It helped her think, and she hoped it would help Deus. He was her best friend, even though he was sort of cold and
distant. However, no one could deny his loyalty or courage. Maybe he was a little whiny, but everyone has their flaws. She glanced up at him again,
hoping for some -any- reaction on his part. Why was he so cold?
Drive another nail in...
Springer lay on the couch, eyes closed and hands behind his head. He was utterly drained after the last encounter. He hovered in between awareness and
unconsciousness, thinking about the night’s events. How would he have reacted in Deus’s shoes?
Just what God needs...
He was lucky that he and his men weren’t out on that patrol. He remembered Lindsey, and he remembered Deus in the previous battles. The boy had brains
and courage, but after tonight’s debacle, he didn’t know what to think.
One more victim...
Two more corpses for the growing makeshift graveyard. Springer supposed that Deus had done his best, and Springer couldn’t have done much better. But
the losses still cut at him. So young... why did they have to die? Why did those corporate thugs have to try to kill them?
Why do we...crucify ourselves?
I crucify myself...
Nothing I do is good enough for you...
Each of the warriors thought to themselves as the song played on. The answers to their questions still eluded them by the time they were asleep, and a
good while after that.
Intermission the first. Now I want some detailed feedback. How do the people who I chose as characters feel about the progression? how does everyone
else? Don't worry, there's plenty more where this came from.
[EDIT: italics, yo)
[Edited on 1-3-2004 by DeusEx]