The hydracropsychic effect
folder
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
964
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
964
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Deliverance
~deliverance~ chp.10
Annie stared blankly, the grisly details of Laurent's story flashing through her head. Her mouth was dry and she tried to swallow down the lump in her throat. Laurent was watching her intently; his face was pale and streaked with tears. Here under the pale moonlight, his strong features were cast into foreboding shadow. He didn't speak; he only stared, patiently awaiting her response. Yet his eyes conveyed what he could not, "Help me, do not leave me alone with myself, do not abandon me now," they implored her anxiously, desperately.
He began to tremble noticeably. She opened her mouth to speak, to end his suffering, but she had no clue what she intended to say. "They are looking for you, your pictures on the evening news. You cannot get away from this." Hearing the cold truth issued from her own lips shocked her as much as it shocked him. If possible, he grew even paler. "Yes, I can." He rasped. He slowly withdrew the revolver from his coat. She heard herself gasp, and for a brief instant she feared for her life. His face fell and his eyes flashed with pain, he must have seen her fear. He dropped the revolver into the damp grass. "Your afraid of me." He moaned, "How can I have fucked this up so completely?" He pulled her into an embrace, and she tried not to flinch.
"Oh Annie, Annie I will never hurt you. Never." He crooned into her hair. You already have, she thought bitterly. Suddenly he pushed her back and his once dull eyes shone with desperation. "But I may have to ask you to hurt me." He bent, picked up the revolver, and placed it solemnly in her hands. She shook her head vigorously and tried to hand it back to him. "No Laurent, please don't ask me to hurt you, anything but that." He quieted her with a gentle kiss, and his hand cupped her cheek. "Do you love me?" he asked. "You know I do." She said truthfully. "And surely you must know that's exactly why I can't do what you ask."
"Please, you know that I deserve this, that I need this." He hung his head shamefully. "I cannot do it myself, and I know out of all people you understand." He got down on his knees before her and angled the muzzle of the revolver against his forehead. "Deliver me." He whispered. "Release me from this pain, if you truly love me you will do it!" The words sounded as if they had been ripped from the deepest part of him, that truthful and that pleading. She was too shocked to speak, but she pressed the revolver tighter against his head. His muscles loosened noticeably. She tried to push down the fear, to be as strong as he was asking her to be. She wanted to close her eyes, but he kept his gaze steady, and she found she could not deny him the final assurance of having a loved one witness his fate.
She felt like screaming, instead she said "You realize that this can get me charged with murder?" This gave him pause and she realized he had not thought it through. He was acting only on spontaneity. He seemed pensive for a moment and then he shook his head, as though to clear it. "I should not be laying this upon your shoulders, dragging one more life down into this hopeless void I have created. This is my place." She got the impression that he was no more talking to her than he was to the trees all around them. He raised his hands to his face. " With these hands I have preformed a great injustice, and now with these same hands I shall reclaim it."
He seemed to remember she was there. He gave her a weak smile; so similar to the first smile he had offered her on the first night they met. He stepped towards her slowly, his expression grave. His next question surprised her. "You can drive cant you Annie?" "Sure, my fathers taught me how." He smiled again tragically. "Good, then I want you to walk to my car, get in and drive away. I'm going to watch until you pull out of the lot, then I'm going to count to ten, and then I'm going to set things right. You must promise me that you will not look back once you have gone. Mention me to no one, not a soul knows of our connection." He kissed her again, but more passionately this time. He was all soft lips and tongue, as though he were trying to infuse these final moments of his life into her. She knew the situation was crazy, she knew what was about to occur was inherently wrong, but she kissed him back and returned every ounce of his passion.
He broke the kiss and breathing harshly, urged her on. "Goodbye love." He called as she got into the front seat, and though she would regret this all her life she did not return his farewell but slammed the door and began the daunting drive home. As the truck crested the hill that would withdraw the park from her sights she heard the gunshot, or she at least thought she heard it. Either way it was no less painful. She drove on without stopping and then when she was close to home she drove the truck far back into the woods and covered it with foliage. She figured that she ought to feel accomplished, however though she had buried all last physical traces, she found that she could not dispel her sorrow as easily.
He's dead, she kept repeating to herself. Laurent, the first man you ever loved is strewn across the park. The evenings mist his funeral shroud. She noted that the old numbness was returning. She could feel it slowly creeping through her, reconquering territory lost. She collapsed in the middle of the road, and shed hot, bitter tears. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the sky. She had counted forty-five stars before she heard the car approaching. She pressed herself flat against the road, squeezed her eyes shut, and she prayed.
~The End~
Annie stared blankly, the grisly details of Laurent's story flashing through her head. Her mouth was dry and she tried to swallow down the lump in her throat. Laurent was watching her intently; his face was pale and streaked with tears. Here under the pale moonlight, his strong features were cast into foreboding shadow. He didn't speak; he only stared, patiently awaiting her response. Yet his eyes conveyed what he could not, "Help me, do not leave me alone with myself, do not abandon me now," they implored her anxiously, desperately.
He began to tremble noticeably. She opened her mouth to speak, to end his suffering, but she had no clue what she intended to say. "They are looking for you, your pictures on the evening news. You cannot get away from this." Hearing the cold truth issued from her own lips shocked her as much as it shocked him. If possible, he grew even paler. "Yes, I can." He rasped. He slowly withdrew the revolver from his coat. She heard herself gasp, and for a brief instant she feared for her life. His face fell and his eyes flashed with pain, he must have seen her fear. He dropped the revolver into the damp grass. "Your afraid of me." He moaned, "How can I have fucked this up so completely?" He pulled her into an embrace, and she tried not to flinch.
"Oh Annie, Annie I will never hurt you. Never." He crooned into her hair. You already have, she thought bitterly. Suddenly he pushed her back and his once dull eyes shone with desperation. "But I may have to ask you to hurt me." He bent, picked up the revolver, and placed it solemnly in her hands. She shook her head vigorously and tried to hand it back to him. "No Laurent, please don't ask me to hurt you, anything but that." He quieted her with a gentle kiss, and his hand cupped her cheek. "Do you love me?" he asked. "You know I do." She said truthfully. "And surely you must know that's exactly why I can't do what you ask."
"Please, you know that I deserve this, that I need this." He hung his head shamefully. "I cannot do it myself, and I know out of all people you understand." He got down on his knees before her and angled the muzzle of the revolver against his forehead. "Deliver me." He whispered. "Release me from this pain, if you truly love me you will do it!" The words sounded as if they had been ripped from the deepest part of him, that truthful and that pleading. She was too shocked to speak, but she pressed the revolver tighter against his head. His muscles loosened noticeably. She tried to push down the fear, to be as strong as he was asking her to be. She wanted to close her eyes, but he kept his gaze steady, and she found she could not deny him the final assurance of having a loved one witness his fate.
She felt like screaming, instead she said "You realize that this can get me charged with murder?" This gave him pause and she realized he had not thought it through. He was acting only on spontaneity. He seemed pensive for a moment and then he shook his head, as though to clear it. "I should not be laying this upon your shoulders, dragging one more life down into this hopeless void I have created. This is my place." She got the impression that he was no more talking to her than he was to the trees all around them. He raised his hands to his face. " With these hands I have preformed a great injustice, and now with these same hands I shall reclaim it."
He seemed to remember she was there. He gave her a weak smile; so similar to the first smile he had offered her on the first night they met. He stepped towards her slowly, his expression grave. His next question surprised her. "You can drive cant you Annie?" "Sure, my fathers taught me how." He smiled again tragically. "Good, then I want you to walk to my car, get in and drive away. I'm going to watch until you pull out of the lot, then I'm going to count to ten, and then I'm going to set things right. You must promise me that you will not look back once you have gone. Mention me to no one, not a soul knows of our connection." He kissed her again, but more passionately this time. He was all soft lips and tongue, as though he were trying to infuse these final moments of his life into her. She knew the situation was crazy, she knew what was about to occur was inherently wrong, but she kissed him back and returned every ounce of his passion.
He broke the kiss and breathing harshly, urged her on. "Goodbye love." He called as she got into the front seat, and though she would regret this all her life she did not return his farewell but slammed the door and began the daunting drive home. As the truck crested the hill that would withdraw the park from her sights she heard the gunshot, or she at least thought she heard it. Either way it was no less painful. She drove on without stopping and then when she was close to home she drove the truck far back into the woods and covered it with foliage. She figured that she ought to feel accomplished, however though she had buried all last physical traces, she found that she could not dispel her sorrow as easily.
He's dead, she kept repeating to herself. Laurent, the first man you ever loved is strewn across the park. The evenings mist his funeral shroud. She noted that the old numbness was returning. She could feel it slowly creeping through her, reconquering territory lost. She collapsed in the middle of the road, and shed hot, bitter tears. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the sky. She had counted forty-five stars before she heard the car approaching. She pressed herself flat against the road, squeezed her eyes shut, and she prayed.
~The End~