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Versus - The Beginning/End/Beginning of It

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Aug. 8th, 2006 | 11:40 pm
location: Flagstaff, AZ
mood: tiredtired

Title: The Beginning/End/Beginning of It
Author: Britani Gael (sterlingsylver @ lj)
Fandom: The Ultimate Versus
Rating: R; violence and implied rape
Summary: [VERSUS]; After surviving the forest, Prisoner KCS2-303 starts down the path of destruction.

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        nanimo omoidasenai


He couldn't see – the blood ran into his eyes, thick and smooth, it burned and he blinked and he still couldn't see. But he could hear, no matter how hard he tried to block out the screams, he could still hear.

"Shut up," he shouted. At her or at them, he didn't know. He lunged forward with one fist and hit nothing; they laughed at his lumbering attempts to fight blind. "Knock it off!"

A fist connected with his face. He hit the ground, hard, colors flashed behind his eyelids as his skull smashed against concrete. They kept laughing. She kept screaming.

Less, now.

He'd never seen them before, not until fifteen minutes ago. He'd never see them again. They were finishing with her, they'd gotten what they wanted. Her cries faded into soft whimpering.

The laughing didn't fade. Another kick, a harsh one to his ribs. He never lost but he'd lost something today, something important, even if he didn't know why or how or why. The blood in his mouth and the pain in his chest meant he couldn't breathe, and that was okay because he didn't need to. He knew he could survive worse, he knew because he had.

He could hear them circling, their boots making soft sounds on the pavement.

"Don't! Please, stop, please—" She was crying. It made him sick, and he was thankful someone slapped her silent.

He couldn't see, but he knew what was coming. He anticipated the next blow, rolled with the kick aimed at his kidney and shoved off the ground, back on his feet.

Five? Fifteen? It really didn't matter.

He reached out blind, again, this time he caught a fist full of hair and slammed it against the wall he knew was directly behind him. Before the body crumpled to the ground, an arm closed around his neck, the elbow folded at his throat.

He could take them apart one by one. With his hands. It really didn't matter.

He broke ribs with his elbow. He shattered his opponent's arm with a lock over his shoulder, he heard the spine crack against that same brick wall. And he was dead, too. They were all dead and just didn't know it yet.

A face came apart in his fingers and the screaming started all over again.

She was screaming. It'd fallen to him to protect her and it was his responsibility that she didn't get hurt and he didn't remember when it'd happened and he didn't remember when he'd agreed to it. They were screaming too, and someone tried to run when he caught them by the hood of their windbreaker. Just a kid, probably. He screamed, too.

"Stop it, you have to stop it!"

He couldn't see, but he could hear their feet, he could sense the stumbling and panic, he could hear her voice crack at the sound of splintering bone. He hit their knees and they couldn't run. Her footfalls were softer than the rest, he could hear the rustling of her sleeves as she pressed herself into the fight.

He wanted to move away from her, he never wanted her to touch him again for the rest of both of their lives. But there was so much pain here already, he could almost lose himself in it.

He already had.

Skin under his fingernails, he shoved them like claws into a pair of eyes. A solid punch could stop a heart. He didn't know how many there were. The footsteps were in chaos, too many were trying to squeeze out of this tiny alley. His hands were slick with blood, an arm slid its way out of his grip and the terrified man was out of range. The punk had run and he was safe.

The fury at deep in his chest, he could hardly breathe with the weight of it, and he turned toward the rest. There was a pause, he could hear them sinking against the furthest wall. And then one reached out and grabbed him.

With her, he knew better than to react.

"You have to stop," she sobbed. Her hands were on his face, and like magic he could open both his eyes and see. He could see her matted hair and shredded blouse and exposed breasts, which he wouldn't look at and still they made him feel like vomiting in the street.

"Please," she begged. Her voice was dropping, she leaned against his chest and curled her fingers around his shirt. "Please don't kill them. Please don't do this.”

It almost worked. Like an old habit, a lit cigarette, a favorite coat. "I won't—" he said. But wouldn't he? Wouldn't he do anything, kill anyone, hurt everyone? He grabbed her shoulders and shook her so her head jerked up and down.

He looked right in her eyes. "I won't lose."

He shoved her, but some habits die hard and so she ended up behind him, away from the four young men who stood with their backs flat against the wall. He could see them, now, he could see how small they really were.

He felt her grab at his shirt from behind, so he spun and casually backhanded her across her face. She fell back, down, her hands over her mouth instead of covering her chest.

They knew they weren't going to get away. So the four street punks who were only standing there waiting to die decided to take advantage of the distraction. They rushed him.

Her voice hurt him, it always had. He could always hear it and he always had to listen. He wondered that he didn't hate her. He turned someone's head around. His neck snapped like dry wood.

He did hate her. She was the cause of everything.

He didn't enjoy the blood as much as before, when he could only feel and taste it. Or hear it, when he sunk his fingers into a stomach as if he had a knife.

It was so easy after that.

When he turned around there were enough bodies to jump from one end of the alley to the other, and never once have your toes touch the blood soaked ground. She'd stopped screaming. Finally, she was letting him have a moment's peace.

She cringed as he approached. She was curled up against a wall and she was shaking, and she wouldn't look at him.

"Shut up," he snapped, though she wasn't saying anything. He dutifully took off his coat and dropped it on the ground beside her. She didn't take it.

"Get up."

She shook her head.

"Let's go."

She started crying.

He grabbed her by the shoulders again and hauled her to her feet, swearing all the while. She didn't fight him. He draped the coat over her shoulders awkwardly, and when he had it so she almost looked all right, she grabbed his hands.

"It's my fault,” she said. “I'm sorry, it's all my fault—"

He jerked away. "Of course it is," he said. "I already knew that."

He turned to walk away, and she was slow to follow. But she did follow.

She was never going to stop.

She never had.

She never would.

They'd done this all before.

It was never going to stop.

He could still taste the blood in his mouth.

He didn't hate it.


        I can't remember     anything

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Comments {9}

penginchan

Sad

from: penginchan
date: Aug. 9th, 2006 05:12 pm (UTC)
Link

So I, uh, shouldn't read this, yeah?

Reply | Thread

PARTY TIME 就是 NOW

Re: Sad

from: rocknload
date: Aug. 9th, 2006 08:41 pm (UTC)
Link

Obviously you already did, yeah?

Reply | Parent | Thread

penginchan

Re: Sad

from: penginchan
date: Aug. 11th, 2006 08:42 pm (UTC)
Link

Did I say that? I don't think I said that. Are you hearing things? Because I don't think I said that. Actually, I am most certain I didn't say anything like that. You're insane, yeah?

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morriwritestuff

(no subject)

from: morriwritestuff
date: Aug. 13th, 2006 07:10 pm (UTC)
Link

*Sings* Love! I have to tell you, I had the shittiest of all shitty days yesterday and before I went to bed late last night (this morning) I saw this and it went a long way to making me feel a little better. I adore my tiny, violent, dead fandom. *Hugs it*

I love how angry he is in this, just completely and totally done with his crappy life and the helpless woman he's stuck with not just for the rest of his aforementioned crappy life but for lives and lives to come.

Favorite lines:

It'd fallen to him to protect her and it was his responsibility that she didn't get hurt and he didn't remember when it'd happened and he didn't remember when he'd agreed to it.

Her voice hurt him, it always had. He could always hear it and he always had to listen.

"It's my fault,” she said. “I'm sorry, it's all my fault—"

He jerked away. "Of course it is," he said. "I already knew that."


And the whole ending set of sentences rocked as well. Great job!

Reply | Thread

PARTY TIME 就是 NOW

(no subject)

from: rocknload
date: Aug. 14th, 2006 04:16 am (UTC)
Link

I always feel bad for the girl -- she can't really help being helpless, it seems to pretty much be her fate -- just like Tak and the man are destined to fight each other over and over and over.

The ending gave me a whole lot of trouble. The whole story's been sitting on my computer for a while, actually, until I managed to finally finish it. Glad you liked it, and thanks for the comment!

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morriwritestuff

(no subject)

from: morriwritestuff
date: Aug. 14th, 2006 04:22 am (UTC)
Link

I always feel bad for the girl

I feel bad for her now. When I first watched the movie, I didn't like her much because she seemed so useless in this movie filled with awesome, kick-ass people, but repeated viewings have made me think she's pretty spunky in her own way. But I like every-damn-body now.

she can't really help being helpless, it seems to pretty much be her fate

I like that. Makes the moments where she does actually do something seem more heroic.

Glad you liked it, and thanks for the comment!

I really did and you're welcome. Thanks for sharing this!

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Sharky

(no subject)

from: sharky_chan
date: Sep. 8th, 2006 02:27 pm (UTC)
Link

Very nice story! I think the ending is my favorite part if just for the line They'd done this all before. So very appropriate, but you make it sad rather than charged like in the movie. Nice and poetic XD.

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Britani Gael

(no subject)

from: notquiteclever
date: Sep. 20th, 2006 05:55 am (UTC)
Link

... This is way late. Anyway.

I thought it was kind of sucky how the three of them were locked into their roles, seemingly from now until forever. I hope they go into more of that in the sequel, assuming that it is indeed getting made.

Thank you!

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mistigri

(no subject)

from: mistigri
date: Dec. 3rd, 2007 01:15 am (UTC)
Link

Harsh...it's interesting that all the way through the film, the hero is torm between his desire to fight, and to protect the girl. And I think she's great at the end - she doesn't overact or overreact, she just seems kind of disappointed and resigned with an underlying desperation...

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