"You'll find that there is life after death. A very painful life."
There's a quote in here that I pilfered from crackjackal, and she, in turn, pilfered it from a Frontline Assembly song that's currently in my Soulseek download que.
When I remember why I didn't just ask her to send it to me, I'll let you know.
At the moment, I'm too braindead to care.
I've been very detached today.
Anyway, [/end whining]
More work does need to be done on this, including adding a -lot- more descriptive detail, but this is mostly just me blocking out the idea, so I dont' lose it...
Makoto: Feel free to do what you want with it.
That’s right. I did it.
Drug the screaming, fighting bastard down into the depths with me, where he belongs.
Hell.
He put that little girl through hell keeping her alive. He and her mother. Her own mother! I suppose, in a way, I’m glad I didn’t really know the details until later. Much later. After it was too late, and there was nothing I could do.
Who am I trying to fool? There was never anything I could do.
Burned so badly. So badly.
And he manipulated me into taking care of her.
What choice did I have?
I needed the drug, and there was nowhere else to get it.
Nowhere...That’s where we are, now, isn’t it?
So he blackmailed me, in a way. Used me.
Maybe it’s what I’ve earned. This drug is surely the sin to end all, though the bad effects certainly outweigh the good.
Do you like it here, Doctor? I tried so hard to accommodate you as well as you did me. I’m sure you’ll find the days to come to be quite pleasant. Let me assure you, there are plenty of them. All we have here is time, so you’d do well to try and make the best of it.
Maybe if you’re extra nice, I’ll think about untying you, and giving you a place to wash off the blood. It comes back though, Michael. It always comes back. Coating the walls, some days, bleeding the world down upon you. It’s only a side effect of the hallucinations.
Oh, what’s that?
You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?
It’s in your blood now, too.
I’m going to show you what it feels like, Michael. To be what I am.
To be an addict.
And if I ever find a way to manipulate you with it, to use you, like you used me, you’ll be damned sure I will, too.
Pleasant Dreams,
Lisa.
Lisa looked up from her diary-turned-letter, and eyed her charge with a smile.
No. Not charge. Captive.
That’s right. captive. He was hers now. All hers. Hers to torture and manipulate and abuse as she saw fit.
She glanced back down at the hardbacked journal in her lap, and placed the pen down, between the open pages. The idle whim to just toss it at Doctor Michael Kauffmann’s head was almost too irresistible, but she wasn’t ready to hear his whining again. Never in her life, had she imagined he would be such a big baby. Whining and screaming, with so little encouragement.
She would show him.
She’d had plenty of time to think about ways to get back.
All we have here is time...
The words stared back up at her from the page, bringing home a harsh reality.
“No, there really isn’t.” She whispered aloud, voice choked, nearly to tears.
She’d been so lonely the last few years. Caring for Alessa and her addiction to White Claudia had left her with nothing to call a life, and no place to hold to. She had no one, and nothing.
She picked up the pen, and closed the diary. Standing, she dropped it into one of the large pockets in her uniform.
Why still wear it?
Why still keep a diary?
Why still care about revenge?
Why still bother?
Because she was still living, in some sense. She’d come to find out that there was, in fact, a life after death. A very painful life. A very lonely life.
With one last glance to her new ward, Lisa departed the room.
When I remember why I didn't just ask her to send it to me, I'll let you know.
At the moment, I'm too braindead to care.
I've been very detached today.
Anyway, [/end whining]
More work does need to be done on this, including adding a -lot- more descriptive detail, but this is mostly just me blocking out the idea, so I dont' lose it...
Makoto: Feel free to do what you want with it.
That’s right. I did it.
Drug the screaming, fighting bastard down into the depths with me, where he belongs.
Hell.
He put that little girl through hell keeping her alive. He and her mother. Her own mother! I suppose, in a way, I’m glad I didn’t really know the details until later. Much later. After it was too late, and there was nothing I could do.
Who am I trying to fool? There was never anything I could do.
Burned so badly. So badly.
And he manipulated me into taking care of her.
What choice did I have?
I needed the drug, and there was nowhere else to get it.
Nowhere...That’s where we are, now, isn’t it?
So he blackmailed me, in a way. Used me.
Maybe it’s what I’ve earned. This drug is surely the sin to end all, though the bad effects certainly outweigh the good.
Do you like it here, Doctor? I tried so hard to accommodate you as well as you did me. I’m sure you’ll find the days to come to be quite pleasant. Let me assure you, there are plenty of them. All we have here is time, so you’d do well to try and make the best of it.
Maybe if you’re extra nice, I’ll think about untying you, and giving you a place to wash off the blood. It comes back though, Michael. It always comes back. Coating the walls, some days, bleeding the world down upon you. It’s only a side effect of the hallucinations.
Oh, what’s that?
You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?
It’s in your blood now, too.
I’m going to show you what it feels like, Michael. To be what I am.
To be an addict.
And if I ever find a way to manipulate you with it, to use you, like you used me, you’ll be damned sure I will, too.
Pleasant Dreams,
Lisa.
Lisa looked up from her diary-turned-letter, and eyed her charge with a smile.
No. Not charge. Captive.
That’s right. captive. He was hers now. All hers. Hers to torture and manipulate and abuse as she saw fit.
She glanced back down at the hardbacked journal in her lap, and placed the pen down, between the open pages. The idle whim to just toss it at Doctor Michael Kauffmann’s head was almost too irresistible, but she wasn’t ready to hear his whining again. Never in her life, had she imagined he would be such a big baby. Whining and screaming, with so little encouragement.
She would show him.
She’d had plenty of time to think about ways to get back.
All we have here is time...
The words stared back up at her from the page, bringing home a harsh reality.
“No, there really isn’t.” She whispered aloud, voice choked, nearly to tears.
She’d been so lonely the last few years. Caring for Alessa and her addiction to White Claudia had left her with nothing to call a life, and no place to hold to. She had no one, and nothing.
She picked up the pen, and closed the diary. Standing, she dropped it into one of the large pockets in her uniform.
Why still wear it?
Why still keep a diary?
Why still care about revenge?
Why still bother?
Because she was still living, in some sense. She’d come to find out that there was, in fact, a life after death. A very painful life. A very lonely life.
With one last glance to her new ward, Lisa departed the room.