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 A Sad Man [DuskOneShot]

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Male Posts : 189
Location : Lake Hylia

PostSubject: A Sad Man [DuskOneShot]   Tue Jul 09, 2013 7:04 pm

”I met some weird alien tonight dear, you'd never believe it!” Terry laughed. He sat in the soft grass; his suit still completely on except the mask. The young hero leaned up against the stone with a content sigh.

”You'd never believe how much the world is changing honey... Aliens, Lanterns, super villains... It's like a damned comic book out here.” He chuckled once more, using his claws to scratch briefly at his amounting scruff. His focus was aimed directly down between his legs at the dampened grass. His long hair drifted over his face, creating nothing but dirty blond eye sight for the young man. He sat there for a moment, head tucked between his spiked knee caps of the Dusk suit.

His head slowly lifted to eye his back support. A smile creased his lips as he stared at Amy's name written across the stone. The young hero gently lifted up and tucked himself against the gravestone, bringing his claw up to caress her sweet name.

Amy Elizabeth Brock. 1992-2010”

He sighed heavily as his claws dug into the last name of Brock on the stone.

”Funny how they don't know we are married now. Then again, how exactly would I explain that? 'Oh yeah, I died for almost two years and went to Sanctuary with my fiance and married here there. Give me the marriage papers!'” he chucked himself with that one,
”Man would the media have a field day with me!”

Terry stared openly into the night sky, full of stars and a pale lit moon. He couldn't help but listen to the stars as they screamed at him. They painfully reminded him that the somber warmth in his chest was nothing but a rotten lie to keep the shadows away. He narrowed his eyebrows as his eyelids grew heavy. The moon lit the graveyard with dark reminders that Terry was all alone. The creator filled rock glared at his foolish attempts to speak to his wife through her tombstone. Graves only glared back with a foul grimace at their disgust.

His attention bolted back to the gravestone, noticing that he'd subconsciously carved the 'Brock' segment of her name out entirely. He cursed himself for not paying attention and defacing his own wife's grave. A fearsome angry boiled his blood. His body immediately shot up with ashamed anger.

”No no no no! I didn't mean to do that! You!” Terry bolted around as if to scream at the stars for distracting him so. However, he quickly realized it was a fool's notion. The stars and the moon were dead silent. It was his anguish projecting itself outward onto inanimate objects that forced him to lose his focus. He growled as he accepted that it was his own bewildered mind that allowed him to lose track an defile his wife's resting place. His stomach was bubbling with agony and rage. If his fists clenched any tighter, he swore that they'd tear right through his skin. A humongous lump formed in his throat, begging him to scream and shout.

A slow gust patrolled the high grass of the graveyard, channeling his building anger. The blades of grass began to stand still as an icy permafrost held them in place. Terry's breathing became labored and heavy, blue fog pushing past his teeth. He clasped his head, hoping that in some way it would help stop the growing floodwall of anguish. The young tormented man began to stumble across the graveyard. Each footstep paved an winter trap for all living plants that were near it. The wind whipped the nearby tree as its leaves clashed together. The pained hero gritted his teeth as the pressure became more and more powerful. His veins were growing red hot with a frustration like no that humanity had ever seen.

A low rumble began to shake him as he stumbled towards the big oak tree. His feet crunched and froze acorns as he nearly tripped, but caught himself last moment. The pain was digging into him like a knife poisoned with shame. The top of his head smacked into the trunk of the tree. He yelped in pain, just now realizing that his agony had blinded his eyesight. A low growl erupted from the throat of the tortured soul as he glared at the tree. Without even a second's thought, his spiked knuckles were burrowing through the heart of the tree. His fist stopped half a foot in as splintered wood dashed across the graveyard. His breathing became hyperventilating as he pulled out and slammed back into the tree as hard as he could. The destruction of wood sounded like cracks of thunder. A swift wind carried the wood shavings across the grass. The permafrost beneath him was becoming pure ice as he let out all of his burning rage in his agonizing punches.

In his blind attack, he didn't catch drift of the ice beneath him and Terry slipped . He banged his knees against the ice as he growled in pain. His fist still remained burrowed deep inside the tree as he fell. The young man gritted his teeth as he felt tears pushing past the floodgates. They gently slipped down his cheeks as he sat in a heap beneath the tree. His forehead planted itself against the hard wood and let his agony flow free. Tears cascaded down his cheeks with the shame of his overpowering anguish.

He wiped his face quickly with his forearm and pushed his back against the beaten trunk. His breathing was slowly veering down as he felt his blood grow cold. Graves sniffled as his eyes became red and puffy with the waterfall of tears. He held his down in shame, allowing his long hair to cover his face, not wanting the world to see how weak he really was. His sniffed hard again, trying to clear his nose. His forearm came up and wiped a few more idle tears from his eyelid. Through his wild locks, Terry slowly gazed across the graveyard at the now defiled stone of his beloved. He tried to breath slowly to sooth his emotional state. As usual, it was mostly in vein.

He couldn't expect the world to face him and pass judgment. Those who cared would be frightened every second of their existence, knowing he was reaching for the bottom. Those who didn't understand would berate him and tell him he had no right to act the way he does. Terry was always okay, always... as long as he knew that she was safe. However, as he is so painfully reminded every day of his life, he failed at his sacred duty. He couldn't do as much as to even jump in the way of the bullet. He just looked onward like a scared little brat as her life slipped through his fingers. Graves had committed the most hanes act of humanity by allowing his beloved to die right in front of him without even lifting a finger. He was just … so scared. He should have known his father would pull something like that. He should have known that Amy would have tried to stop them eventually. He should have stopped her.

So many should ofs litter his existence. Things he should of done. The things he could have done. It is always a haunting gun to his head. The more he stared at his wife's gravestone, the more he recalled just how devastating his failure was. Because of Terry, Amy would never know what it was like to have children. Because of Terry, Amy could never get an education. Because of Terry, she couldn't grow old. It was all his fault. No matter how many lives he saves as Dusk, none of them could ever redeem his failure of not being able to save his betrothed. It was painfully ironic how easy it was for him to prevent death now. However, when it counted most, he could do nothing.

He sobbed, allowing his suit to recede into his skin. His suit was replaced with his civilian clothes. Tears instantly stained his spider logo shirt. His arm was slightly smaller than his Dusk form, allowing him to remove his fist from the trunk of the tree. Terry shook his hand, feeling a stinging pain across his knuckles. He hadn't stayed in the Dusk suit long enough to maintain its healing traits. He didn't care. He deserved pain for his sins that night. It hurt like hell, showing that his hand was a pink color while his knuckles were a deep violet. Graves smirked, seeing that karma had got him back instantly for his stupidity.

His misty blue eyes gazed at the tombstone as he made a slow effort to reach his feet. His healthy hand grasped the oak tree and hoisted himself up. Terry walked slowly across the grass, tracing his icy footprints. He stood in the threshold of his wife's damaged tombstone. His knees bent as he got up against the tombstone, mere inches away. Two hands grasped each edge of the stone tightly. Still trembling from his emotional trauma, Terry gently let down a small kiss at the center of the tombstone, right across her first name. The top of his head pressed against it as he shook.

”I-i'm sorry Amy.. Forgive me... It's just s-so... hard... without you love. I feel dead... oh so dead... If it weren't for that damned Forgotten Realm I would have ended it and been with you.. Then again, I don' think you'd want me doing that either... I deserve better than that right? I deserve a life...? That's what you always used to say...” He stuttered.

”Then again, could you ever actually call this a life? You don't get it. You never did. My life IS yours... We ceased being two people when I proposed to you. What hell kind of life would you call this!! I'm living as half a man Amy! You make me... whole. I have been... incomplete for so long... Years I have stood hoping that some villain would do me in and I could you see you once more... But I'm so damn powerful now, I can't perceive my death. What if I can't join you? What if I never meet you?! If that's the case I'm already dead!!!” Terry shouted in horror of his existence. He punched the side of the stone with his bruised fist to provoke more self harm in a vein attempt to stop his emotional meltdown. He quickly found that the physical agony only fueled his punishing anguish.

”You are my wife damn it! You should be here, not there! We should be having beautiful children not stuck in this Purgatory! I LOVE YOU DAMMIT!!! COME BACK TO ME!!! GOD BRING HER BACK TO ME!!! God please...” His protest faded into a sobbing whimper. Tears flowed down the side of the gravestone. Terry could do nothing but let out groans of agony as he gripped the stone so hard it might snap. He trembled like no earthquake could ever measure up to. Waterfalls were jealous of his sobs. He growled, trying to vent out his terrible pain. It was to no avail. Terry seethed hard, hyperventilating .

There would be no answers to his cries. There would be no return of his beloved. There would be no love.

Only a sad man alone in a cemetery, just like the many nights before.

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