PHQ-Nickname:
Syndel
Halfquake:
Mania
Level:
74
Total kills:
19,884,443
Birthday:
00th 0000
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| Mood: | neutral |
| Type: | Story |
| Added: | February 17th 2010, 04:16:02 |
| Visits: | 1470 |
| Series: | [ Victimisation 2 ] |
| Rating: | 5/5 (Votes: 1) |
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Description:
This probably won't make much sense unless you've first read Victimization, and even then I make no promises  . |
There are no second chances, there are no hopes against fate, there are no reprieves for the damned. But there are new beginnings.
Vincent, vinny or even just V. These were the various names of the lonely figure walking slowly and patiently across the great open causeway outside the penthouse suite of the Vendetta building. He shivered, wrapped only in a light dressing gown. The building, was, of course, the sole property of Mr. V, yet instead of the proud walk of a multi-billionaire tycoon and immensely successful stock merchant there was only the small subdued gait of a man completely vulnerable. He did not walk high and purposefully, but dithered along the path between the giant segregated marble wall supports, huge long solid archways spanning not only the floor he was on but far below, from the tip of the skyscraper to the ground.
Mr. V was an incredibly rich man, and incredibly powerful, but he held a secret in his mind tonight, a secret which had roused him from his slumber in the similarly impressive and elaborate bedchamber's. It was this secret which guided his shaking footsteps across the icy cold marble floor on this night, and it was this secret which caused him to grip the balcony railings at the edge of the building so tightly that the whites of his knuckles shone through in the dark twilight.
“Do you see it too?” A voice came from beside him. Quiet, casual and friendly.
“See what?” Said Vincent, unsurprised and calmed by the voice.
“Just relax and look, then take in with your mind what your eyes see.”
Vincent did as the voice commanded, and looked out upon the early morning darkness which enveloped New York in it's firm oppressive grip. Down below the city shone with the light of a thousand neon bulbs. Buildings attempted to blind him even here with their irritating yellow glow, blurring through the smog which seemed to cover all cities these days. Despite the heavy oppressive glow from below when glancing up all that could be seen was a vast black canvas, almost completely dark, the only visible shapes being those of clouds moving slowly through the upper atmosphere, and the slight glow on the horizon from the sun just beyond.
“You think I'm mad, don't you Edward? Being awakened in the middle of the night by a crime committed so long ago most have forgotten it, and yet...” Vincent's words trialled off as his gaze once again returned to the city. “Is it a crime when to look upon the world and think of things no decent person must ever think about? Is it a crime to wish the things I want on to this world?”
Edward sighed, and wrapped a ghostly arm around Vincent's shoulders. “We should know better than any the mistakes of the past, but it is your duty to forge the future. You are in a position to change the world, Vinny. You above all people must be immune from thought crimes. You must be able to think freely and openly, you must be able to fantasise, to escape the trappings of morality. You are the angel in this new world, Vinny. It is your choice alone whether you are the angel of death or the angel of perpetuation.”
“Damn it, what would you have me do?”
Edward smiled. “I am but a victim of my own choosing. No decision you make will effect me in any way, I am merely here because I enjoy playing balance to the madness of humanity.”
“Is this madness?”
“Was it madness back then?”
“I... don't know. God damn it Ed, I'm a murderer and no one can ever know that.”
Edward gave the spectral equivalent of a shrug, which involved moving his aura slightly. “A man who kills another is a murderer, yet a man who kills millions is a hero.”
Vincent went silent for a few minutes, staring out onto the far skyline, distant buildings fading in the mist towards the horizon. Eventually he broke himself from his thoughts, turning to his spectral friend, Edward, the assassin who had tried to kill him so many years ago and was now his best friend in the mad world of human-kind. “I've got to do it Ed, if only to see if it's possible to do it right. So help me god I'm a damned man-” as Vincent spoke a bright light appeared from the horizon, distracting both of the lonely figures on the green-marble balcony. Great lines of fire appeared across the sky, shooting like intensely powerful laser lights, piercing the thinning cloud cover.
“Beautiful, isn't it?” said Vincent, admiring the spectacle. “Like a volcano, the dawn of a new day heralded by a sky of fire, and we stand here now basking in it's amber glow. It's like the hand of god reaching out and commanding you to submit, or the hot forge-light, strong enough to bend steel. In darkness we are the things of nightmares, yet in this sunlight we are simply two beings in billions, and how are any of those billions to know what horrors await them in the night, when run by such beings of the day?”
“Amber sky? Darkness and nightmares? No, these are nought but illusion. Reaching beyond your hand of god and ignoring the glow, I see only one thing.”
“Oh? And what is that?
“Why, a sunrise, of course.” Edward said with a smile. |
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