[ should he be here? underneath this makeshift tent where a movie plays, where there's games and dolls and a type of kindness and love interwoven within everything here? the tv glitches some until the move plays, black and white, huge comical letters following the appearance of a funny looking monster.
to him, that was at one point gerald's madness, his anger and sadness mixed together within the biolizard. in front of him, it looks like a playful and silly creature compared to the original, but the actors within the movie point and scream, it's terrifying to them. this version is the one that his double had spoken about where shadow couldn't tell if he was relieved or offended that something so frightening and so willing to kill could be portrayed in such a useless light.
now that he sees it, he thinks it's relieving to see it. much more so when he understands who could have been under here with him watching it. yes, if anything, he would never expose her to the horrors, he would never want her to know of the pain that the professor endured. those two people, good people, and maybe in this life too, wonderful, good individuals that should never have met the fate that they did. shadow's head tilts down as he listens to the tv play, the airhorn of a roar, and he chuckles wryly.
as many times as shadow has put that monster out of its misery, killed it so that it would no longer suffer — the creature was unable to learn, it couldn't adjust like shadow could, and those tubes and wires were only a sort of life support. what's before him is a simple movie, refreshing, something meant for children, to make them laugh. why is he here, what is he doing here, why must he be witness to a time that is without sickness or any visible pain. there's comfort and happiness that's neatly placed right underneath the roof of the constructed tent.
something hits him, he doesn't know what it is, but something small bounced against his chest and he can only look one way. of course, in the direction that it was thrown and where he sits, by his side he'll find a small picture frame that's completely in tact. this doesn't have the professor in it, this time, it is only both him and her, her and him, smiling and happy. in his hands, it feels warm, he can hear the sound of child-like laughter in the distance, but he knows if he looks up that no one will be there. all he has is this picture within its frame, but a small crack appears right over the heart of the hedgehog within the photo.
the crack spreads like an infection.
shadow doesn't know if he should drop it or keep it in his hand, but he finds that his hand hurts, his wrist actually. like something is telling him to come, that he needs to move. there's the sound of screaming, but he can't tell if its the television or something out there. returning his attention to the television shows a dated, box television that's filled with dust and the screen cracked. everything within the tent has little bugs running through the animals, board games broken in half or completely missing from what he saw before.
the fabric of the tent has been gnawed by moths, ripped down halfway, and in his hand is a dusty frame with an old picture with faded spots here and there. upon realization of what he saw is no longer there, life having been drained from the scene and now leaves him in a dark, dreary area swallowed by darkness. he gets up realizing that there's nothing left of what was, and even that sweet smell has switched to something bitter and dry much like what's left of this place. there's the distorted sound of guitar that plays, shadow shakes his head, and doors slam against one another as someone bursts in with controlled panic to their voice.
"kids! we have to go, now!"
shadow's brow raises at the individual before him, someone he hasn't seen, but that impressive moustache says it all. he swallows down the saliva in his throat, something so real found in a dilapidated place like this? he shouldn't be surprised, this entire event has been unbelievable, but... ]
Professor? No— you're not him, y—
[ alarms blare, shadow's ears fall against his head, the sound isn't something he enjoys, rather it instills a type of paranoia in him. it's his vulnerability showing, but there's that sensation of something, or someone pulling him along. he gets up, his eyes closed as he tries to block out the sound, the fear as he's pulled into a run. no, this is one thing he can't acknowledge, this place isn't real nor does it have power to influence him, and yet he can feel a small hand around his wrist.
his head tilted forward to look at the ground, and in the corner of his eyes he can see a blue dress, and fair-skinned legs and white socks do everything in their power to prevent tripping.
however, he won't look up. what is this, why is this happening. in his hand remains the portrait as he holds tightly onto it, blood dripping into the center of the picture, staining it more. yellow lights flush the hallway, illuminating their path as he's pulled along. there's the sound of heavy footsteps, the clicks of loaded guns, voices that carry down the hall. ]
no subject
to him, that was at one point gerald's madness, his anger and sadness mixed together within the biolizard. in front of him, it looks like a playful and silly creature compared to the original, but the actors within the movie point and scream, it's terrifying to them. this version is the one that his double had spoken about where shadow couldn't tell if he was relieved or offended that something so frightening and so willing to kill could be portrayed in such a useless light.
now that he sees it, he thinks it's relieving to see it. much more so when he understands who could have been under here with him watching it. yes, if anything, he would never expose her to the horrors, he would never want her to know of the pain that the professor endured. those two people, good people, and maybe in this life too, wonderful, good individuals that should never have met the fate that they did. shadow's head tilts down as he listens to the tv play, the airhorn of a roar, and he chuckles wryly.
as many times as shadow has put that monster out of its misery, killed it so that it would no longer suffer — the creature was unable to learn, it couldn't adjust like shadow could, and those tubes and wires were only a sort of life support. what's before him is a simple movie, refreshing, something meant for children, to make them laugh. why is he here, what is he doing here, why must he be witness to a time that is without sickness or any visible pain. there's comfort and happiness that's neatly placed right underneath the roof of the constructed tent.
something hits him, he doesn't know what it is, but something small bounced against his chest and he can only look one way. of course, in the direction that it was thrown and where he sits, by his side he'll find a small picture frame that's completely in tact. this doesn't have the professor in it, this time, it is only both him and her, her and him, smiling and happy. in his hands, it feels warm, he can hear the sound of child-like laughter in the distance, but he knows if he looks up that no one will be there. all he has is this picture within its frame, but a small crack appears right over the heart of the hedgehog within the photo.
the crack spreads like an infection.
shadow doesn't know if he should drop it or keep it in his hand, but he finds that his hand hurts, his wrist actually. like something is telling him to come, that he needs to move. there's the sound of screaming, but he can't tell if its the television or something out there. returning his attention to the television shows a dated, box television that's filled with dust and the screen cracked. everything within the tent has little bugs running through the animals, board games broken in half or completely missing from what he saw before.
the fabric of the tent has been gnawed by moths, ripped down halfway, and in his hand is a dusty frame with an old picture with faded spots here and there. upon realization of what he saw is no longer there, life having been drained from the scene and now leaves him in a dark, dreary area swallowed by darkness. he gets up realizing that there's nothing left of what was, and even that sweet smell has switched to something bitter and dry much like what's left of this place. there's the distorted sound of guitar that plays, shadow shakes his head, and doors slam against one another as someone bursts in with controlled panic to their voice.
"kids! we have to go, now!"
shadow's brow raises at the individual before him, someone he hasn't seen, but that impressive moustache says it all. he swallows down the saliva in his throat, something so real found in a dilapidated place like this? he shouldn't be surprised, this entire event has been unbelievable, but... ]
Professor? No— you're not him, y—
[ alarms blare, shadow's ears fall against his head, the sound isn't something he enjoys, rather it instills a type of paranoia in him. it's his vulnerability showing, but there's that sensation of something, or someone pulling him along. he gets up, his eyes closed as he tries to block out the sound, the fear as he's pulled into a run. no, this is one thing he can't acknowledge, this place isn't real nor does it have power to influence him, and yet he can feel a small hand around his wrist.
his head tilted forward to look at the ground, and in the corner of his eyes he can see a blue dress, and fair-skinned legs and white socks do everything in their power to prevent tripping.
however, he won't look up. what is this, why is this happening. in his hand remains the portrait as he holds tightly onto it, blood dripping into the center of the picture, staining it more. yellow lights flush the hallway, illuminating their path as he's pulled along. there's the sound of heavy footsteps, the clicks of loaded guns, voices that carry down the hall. ]