Anti-Spork: The Darkest Hour by Mrs. Hyde - Chapter 2, Part 1, Section D
SOS: Before we begin this section, I’d like to, again, apologise to Mrs. Hyde, and I’d like to tell her that no matter HOW many tantrums I throw, to never change a SINGLE WORD of this chapter, because this is BEAUTIFUL. Sure, it was painful and I cried, but that was INTENTIONAL. That was MEANT to happen. And please, PLEASE, PLEASE don’t change ANYTHING to make this less impacting just because I threw a fit. Because as painful as this is, I still love it with all my heart.
Really, Mrs. Hyde, I ADORE it when you stomp on me and am looking forward to more stomping.
The last part there was just me being a whiny little bitch, so PLEASE ignore everything I said.
Mantra: Are you done now? Because I came here for the STORY, not your whining.
SOS: Right. Let’s move on…
The memories were crowding over themselves in Edward’s mind,
SOS: Shit, wasn’t the mindreading ENOUGH? He can’t think clearly or have his mind to himself to START WITH, must you make his OWN BRAIN beat him up?
Mantra: Well, this circles back to the point that you can’t deal with this kind of problem, or any kind of problem really, by running away, because it WASN’T the locations that are hurting him - it’s himself. It’s his desperate clinging to the past. It’s his denial. So, wherever he runs, his problems will just follow him, because nothing is wrong with the city of Chicago, but everything is wrong with Edward.
SOS: That does NOT make the pain any more bearable.
Mantra: For all your apologising about being a whiny little bitch, you seem to show no intention of stopping.
such that as he walked the streets,
SOS: O_O I honest thought that said ‘as he WORKED the streets’ the first time I read it…
Mantra: *Laughs* What, to save up money for a golden headdress?
the clamor of voices not his own were gradually becoming nothing more than a low drone in the background.
SOS: Oh. Oh fantastic. The ONE time his mindreading COULD have helped him by distracting him, you have it be drowned out by his own emotions. God, I can’t get over how EVERYTHING in his body is specifically wired to bring him as much pain as possible.
Mantra: But they’re still there, though. And they won’t ever leave. They just a constant reminder of his nature, lurking in his conscious, sometimes at the forefront of his mind, sometimes almost ignored…but always there nonetheless, because that’s something he can’t run from, that he can’t ignore.
SOS: …You’re being oddly poetic today.
Mantra: It does NOT help that you’ve been writing poetry before doing this sporking.
His steps slowed, grew less sure
SOS: SYMBOLISM!
Mantra: Okay, STOP that. You’re just being annoying now.
SOS: But…LOOK! I love how many walking metaphors there are in this fic. He has no idea how to deal with his problems now that running away isn’t getting rid of them! He doesn’t know where to tread, because every road still leaves to the same obstacles! He didn’t know how to handle ANYTHING since he became a vampire!
Mantra: And as a result, he’s ceased to move forward in life - his steps slowed. How brilliant.
as he felt a thick sort of melancholy settling in on him, dampening his previous innocent enjoyment of seeing the city of his birth again.
Mantra: Thick sort of…dampening…Okay, Mrs. Hyde, you can beat him with a Characterisation Stick all you want, but did you NEED to money-shot all over him?
SOS: *Buries face in hands* Yep, here it comes - what I’ve been dreading since the start of this chapter. I’m surprised he managed to hold out this long, to be honest.
When had he last thought of his home, his childhood-his parents? When had he last really thought of them, really remembered them?
SOS: You know, almost every single goddamned vampire in canon had some sort of ~*~TWADIC~*~ event in their past as a human, so all of them have no ties to humanity left by the time they’re turned into a vampire. Esme lost her child. Alice was locked in an asylum. Rosalie was gang-rape to death. Jasper fought in a war. Every single event in their life was arranged so that they would feel absolutely no longing for humanity once they have been changed, because vampires are PERFECT. So NO ONE had the right to complain about being one.
But all that does is make the readers infuriated because WE ARE HUMANS. We are goddamned HUMANS. That means we’re ALWAYS going to choose humanity over whatever bullshit monster you think up and glorify. And having your avatar do nothing but shit on humanity is NOT going to make us like him, because that would be him shitting on US.
Mantra: And it’s really quite hard to believe that your lust object is a PERFECT GENTLEMAN LOL when he obviously has no regard for his parents. He never thinks of them, never thanks them for their sacrifice, and throws the only possessions they left behind to a random girl just so she’ll agree to marry him. He obviously doesn’t care about them. And given that they loved him enough to die begging that he be saved…yeah, he’s going to end up a gigantic dick.
In fact, the whole theme of pushing parents out of the picture is quite disgusting. I mean, sure, in adventure books, it might be necessary that the protagonist doesn’t have any obligations at home so they can go ADVENTURING, but this is goddamned ROMANCE. And you clearly bothered to write in parents for your characters. So, when you have your character be rude little bitches for no reason to them and make it clear that their only purpose in this story is to be moving, talking punching bags, I GET PISSED.
Seriously, I’m an ELDRITCH FUCKING ABOMINATION, and I do NOT tolerate bullshit like that.
He hadn’t even known they were gone until after he’d been changed
SOS: Oh fantastic. Now he’s blaming HIMSELF for being too occupied by DYING to notice his parents were gone.
Mantra: I’m surprised you didn’t point out the symbolism. He hadn’t known the price of vampirism, the things he would have to sacrifice for it, until after his change, and the passing of his parents is a metaphor for that.
-Carlisle hadn’t told him until weeks after they had actually died,
SOS: SEE? Not your fucking fault. God, he’ll find a way to twist EVERY situation to be his fault, won’t he?
Mantra: People like that piss me off…*Crosses arms*
just two other nameless and faceless patients in the open ward of the hospital, crowded with the dead and dying patients wracked with influenza.
SOS: Oh GOD, we’re back to the themes of how he is insignificant and how the most precious things to him don’t matter a single bit in this world, aren’t we? *Clings to teddy bear*
Mantra: You’re never THIS weepy in bad fics!
SOS: But this is exactly what’s happening! And CHRIST, on top of his newborn life and adjusting to freaking MINDREADING, he also has to handle the sudden news that the two people he loved the most and were the staples of his childhood were now forever gone?
Mantra: There’s bound to be survivor guilty too. You know, his parents were dead, and he SHOULD HAVE died. And it’s only through a supernatural, or even unnatural, intervention that he managed to live…he was saved but they weren’t. And he won’t know why.
SOS: And he still can’t figure out why he was saved, too, because he has no purpose. He’s just…here. But he has no idea what to do with this strange un-life…That POOR kid!
And even then, to his sudden, newfound shame, his grief had been largely shunted aside by his new and frightening ability to hear the very thoughts on the wind-to say nothing of the fact that he was a vampire.
SOS: Now he’s blaming himself for not being able to instantly adjust to MINDREADING and LUSTING AFTER PEOPLE’S BLOOD?
Mantra: Oh God. Oh God, I can see EXACTLY what this is going to lead to…
By the time he’d managed to come to grips with his new state of being,
Mantra: Ahahahahaha- No. No, you haven’t come to grips with your ‘new state of being’. What do you think is driving all this conflict? You haven’t come to grips with ANYTHING. Just because you’ve learned how to bend over and take it like a bitch, doesn’t mean you’ve come to GRIPS with it.
the loss of his parents, his home, and his life
SOS: *Stares at line and gibbers like an idiot*
Mantra: *Hands tighten in to fists* Okay, I’m serious. This is starting to get to me as well. *Grits teeth*
SOS: *Flings self at Mantra and cries into her shoulder*
Mantra: *Kicks SOS off*
had subsided into a dull ache that was easy enough to ignore.
Mantra: *Incredulous* EASY ENOUGH TO IGNORE? Have you even been reading this fic? Oh my GOD, I haven’t seen denial THIS bad since…Okay, we’re not going to talk about that. But this is just…RIDICULOUS. Just…how blind are you?
SOS: No, but you see, he HAS been ignoring it. That’s a major part of his character. Anything painful, he just shunts aside. Like how he’s not reflecting on what the changes he saw in the towns mean about Chicago. Like how he’s convincing himself that he’s leaving those towns because of the Imperial court. Like how he’s fooled himself into thinking that Chicago will never change and what had been there will still be there, waiting for him.
Mantra: Shit, but that is BAD.
SOS: Which is why Mrs. Hyde beats the trait out of him across three fics.
But now, here, where his memories were no longer so distant but rather staring him in the face, he found he could think of little else.
SOS: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, she’s got him CORNERED.
Mantra: I bet money he’s going to deal with the problem by running away.
He supposed it was no surprise, then, that he found himself at the train station
Mantra: HA! I WIN.
SOS: Really, it’s not so hard to win at this. Edward deals with his problems in…basically three ways - fastidious denial, crushing angst, and running the fuck away.
Mantra: And he’s DAMNED good at rationalising all the running he does, too. Oh, it’s no surprise! It’s perfectly natural and reasonable of him! If you had found yourself in the same situation, you would have done it too! He couldn’t help it!
SOS: He’s sort of right, on a level, in that I would never be strong enough to deal with this sort of thing. I’d probably run, too…
Mantra: And that just makes you relate to him more. So, you know, Mrs. Hyde can truly break you in the next Part of the Chapter.
SOS: *Cries*
that would take him west out into Oak Park, back out to where he used to live
*Stunned silence*
Mantra: He’s…going to…
SOS: Run to his HOME…
Mantra: To avoid MEMORIES?
SOS: WHAT THE HELL?
Mantra: I…that is just…fail on so many levels…
SOS: Okay, so you were right. He DID run. He just decided to run in a direction so mind-blowing-ly WRONG that…OH MY GOD, did you see what happened at South Bend? Did you see what happened IN CHICAGO? Why the FUCK would you go home? What are you THINKING? What do you think is going to be there? You’re only doing this so that Mrs. Hyde can beat me up even more! WHAT THE HELL?
-he wanted to go home.
Mantra: I’ve seen masochists less masochistic than this. Most of them prefer their sanity to remain intact after the pain.
SOS: *Finally collects self* Well, that’s the end of the chapter. Mantra, you can eave now.
*Mantra pops away*
SOS: But I have to stay here, because I have something that I NEED to do. That I HAVE to do. That is my DUTY to do. *Takes a deep breath and pops away too*
WARNING: What follows is a little ficlet where I shamelessly insert myself into The Darkest Hour universe so that I can comfort my favourite character there. It is SHAMELESS, I tell you. So, if you’re sensitive to self-inserts raping to laws of space and time in order to get their hands on their favourite characters, the following may not be for you.
This is literally just a piece where I vent all my frustrations after two chapters, so it won’t feature fantastic writing or anything. Again, I described it as SHAMELESS for a reason. Please beware.
But now, here, where his memories were no longer so distant but rather staring him in the face, he found he could think of little else.
On an impulse, he found himself turning and walking towards the train station. He wanted…he didn’t know what he wanted, but he needed to be home now.
But when had life cared about what Edward wanted?
Barely a few steps out of the park and…something, the most peculiar feeling made him pause in his steps. It was as though the very air around him was bending and warping, compressing due to some greater force. He froze.
Then, with an almost audible pop, the pressure disappeared, and all was back to normal…except, that was, the girl standing in front of him who had materialised out of…nowhere.
She wobbled for a second, disorientated, then straightened and stared at Edward. Her expression shifted from confusion to recognition (to his horror) and then to an anger so profound that it rather startled Edward. He blinked and searched desperately in his memory. Where had she seen him before? What had he done?
Did she know?
‘You.’ The girl grounded out. ‘You stupid, STUPID BITCH!’
Edward started.
She took advantage of his surprised and marched forward, shoulders hunched and hands tightened into fists. And still, he can’t recall for the life of him when he had done her any wrong.
She lashed out and gripped his arm and by the time he realised he should probably be struggling, she had already hauled him down an empty alleyway (a suspiciously convenient empty alleyway) and thrown him unceremoniously against the wall.
His head bounced off the cold concrete and he spent a few seconds lolling on the ground, trying to get his bearings back. Well, one thing was for certain. Whatever he had done to her, he hadn’t exposed his identity. No one would be foolish enough to drag a blood-drinking monster into an empty alleyway when they were completely unarmed.
But he didn’t have time to think for long, however, because she was bearing down on him again, hair wild and eyes blazing with anger, and…wait. Was that tear-tracks on her face? She had been crying?
‘You utter IDIOT!’ She growled at him. ‘What were you THINKING? How the HELL is going home a good decision in any way, shape, or form under these circumstances?’
Edward blinked. What?
‘Have you been paying attention to your surroundings at ALL? Did going to South Bend make you feel better? Did seeing evidence that everyone had moved on except you make your heart warm? Did coming to Chicago do ANYTHING good for you? What has your travels been EXCEPT torture all this time?’ She grabbed him by his collars and hoisted him up against the wall.
As she pressed her face up against his, he saw more clearly the way her eyes gleamed in the dim light. She had been crying, apparently, and her eyes were filled with tears even now.
It seemed that every new piece of information regarding this woman only made him more confused…like how she’d apparently been following his travels. Like how she could apparently read his mind.
‘What are you even trying to do?’ She demanded. ‘Go HOME? Don’t fucking kid me! You were there in Downtown. You’ve seen what’s happened.’ Her hold around his neck tightened, and suddenly, he was very grateful for his lack of need to breathe.
‘You! Have! No! Home!’ She shook him violently with every word. ‘Edward MASON had one, but guess what? Edward Mason is FUCKING DEAD. You are Edward Fucking Cullen now, and you have to learn how to DEAL with it. Because that is what EVERYONE does. The world isn’t going to wait for you! It’s just going to keep grinding on! And if you don’t keep on top of that, if you don’t force yourself to move on with it, all that is going to happen is that you’ll be left behind. Forever. And you won’t ever hope to catch up! This is not the fucking time to be chasing your past! You know why? BECAUSE IT’S PAST! IT’S GONE! And no amount of travelling is going to bring it back! You’re just going to make yourself even more obsessed, and thus even less capable of fitting in, in modern society!’
With a disgusted grunt, she flung him to the ground. ‘You had a lovely life here, but that was TEN YEARS AGO. Nothing is left for you here anymore, and going to the house that was ONCE your home is not going to do ANYTHING except confirm that fact. So stop waffling around and trying to change immutable things like the passing of time! Just…accept that there is no place for you here anymore because THE WORLD CHANGES, and MOVE THE FUCK ON!’
Her hands jerked forward again, and Edward braced himself for being jerked to his feet and shaken some more. But she stopped half way, with her hands out in front of her hovering in mid-air. Her fingers twitched, then, almost as if she was typing, and that familiar feeling was back again - the air warping around him and a shrillest noise ringing in his ear.
Then, his face was pressed in something furry.
He yelped in surprised and scrambled a good four feet up the sheer, concrete wall.
That thing was…brown…and round…and…
He suddenly realised, to his humiliation, that it had been a gigantic teddy bear, almost the size of a grown man.
‘HERE is your Teddy Bear, because hugging it will solve FAR MORE of your problems than self-inflicted torture.’
Her hands were moving again and a hard object fell on Edward’s head.
Again, he could barely help but jump out of his skin.
‘HERE is a book on vacation spots, in case you REALLY needed travelling. Go and see them. You’re a GODDAMNED VAMPIRE. I’m sure there are more interesting places for you to be.’
Before Edward could feel surprise that she really had known what he was, she was bearing down on him again.
She snatched up the book and, with a practiced swing, hit him squarely in the head.
It didn’t really hurt, and really, he could have easily avoided it if he hadn’t been so stunned. Just what the hell is she and what is she trying to DO?
‘That was for being a STUPID IDIOT.’ She all but shouted as she shoved the book back into his arms.
To his surprise, he saw that she was crying again, her features twisted grotesquely as streams of tears and snot ran down her face.
And then she was hugging him, her arms wrapped fiercely around his shoulder, her head pressed against his. And he could feel her heat, her warmth seeping through his shirt, her heart pounding against her chest…One of her hands moved up and combed through his hair.
‘It’s okay.’ She whispered in his ear. ‘It’s all gonna be okay. Everything will be fine. You’re going to be fine…’
She squeezed him tighter, and…damn, he didn’t even know who she was…or what she was, but he couldn’t help but lean into the hug, because…
Her arms dropped away and she stepped back. ‘That was your obligatory hug and comforting words.’ She told him, then grimaced. ‘But I mean it, though. Everything. You’re going to be fine. It’ll be alright.’
The air warped and popped and she was gone.
Edward stared a bit, then looked down, at the gigantic teddy bear and book, and wrapped his arms around himself.
Everything will be fine…
Her words echoed in the darkness.
It’ll be alright…
He opened the cover of the book.
I’m going to be fine…
SOS: Again, I sincerely apologise for the horrible prose and awful self-insert up there, but I needed that. I really, REALLY needed that.
Next time, we shall be moving on to Chapter 2, Part 2, WHICH I WILL NOT BE AROUND FOR. I know what happens in that part. I will NOT be stupid enough to hang around for it. I don’t know WHO I’m going to drag in here, but it’s NOT going to be me.
So, see you next time where I take the Edward approach to my problems.
Go Forward to: Chapter 2, Part 2, Section A
Go Back to: Chapter 2, Part 1, Section C