-
RED
-
Red.
Life is red.
Drops of life sinking into the white blanket.
His eyes slowly focus on his right hand, lying limply away from the rest of his body, vainly reaching for something undefined.
The hand that had gripped the gun hesitantly at first, nearly dropping it due to the overwhelming revulsion coursing through his entire body. But it had held on to the weapon and had learned to unleash its destructive power, quite expertly, despite the horror it evoked in his very core.
Kill or be killed.
He had chosen the coward’s way out. Still, he cursed himself for not being able to summon enough courage. For failing himself. The high ideas and morals he had set for himself.
He had betrayed his soul, by allowing red-hot rage to wash away pristine white innocence.
For every life he had taken, a piece of his own soul had been chipped off, leaving raw, bleeding wounds no medicine could ever heal.
Never whole again.
So he’s lying here. Broken. Useless. Snowflakes he can’t feel falling into his eyes. His faltering breath the only sound in a peaceful white world. A strange serenity in his heart, even though his body feels on fire.
He blinks once, slowly, but the darkness gradually creeping up from the corners of his sight won’t be deterred. He knows it will soon swallow him, take him away to a place he once feared.
But he’s not afraid now. His grandmother has once promised she’d be waiting for him. With freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
And he truly wants to believe it is true.
Because, after all he’s seen and experienced, it just couldn’t all end in nothing more but an eternal night.
His eyes flutter closed on their own account, no matter how hard he tries to keep them open. Panic breaches the cocoon of hazy peacefulness.
No, please…Not yet. Not before he knows for sure.
Please…Just a little while longer…
Anxiety keeps his heart beating, even though it receives hardly enough blood to pump around. But his eyes won’t open again. The darkness becomes deeper, although he knows the daylight must still be bright behind his lids.
His breath hitches…. and there is no next to breach the silence.
But now he can hear something else. Anxiously shouting voices. Very vague and faraway. But unmistakably his friends.
They’re safe...
He hasn’t failed...
Somehow, his mouth manages a small smile and his eyes flutter open one last time.
His hand is nearly completely covered by the softly falling snow, the blood nearly invisible. White erasing the stains of red. A veil of innocence and purity wiping away all sins.
As the image dims, he idly wonders how long it will take for the rest of his body to be covered, buried under the white foundation of a new world.
So pristine white.
Red no more…
-
If you can stop after reading this, good for you! That was the original piece, written without a particular character in mind. If you, like me, feel horrible about leaving a story with a bad ending, go on to read the second part...
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Stargate Atlantis, its characters and all related entities are the property of MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions and The SciFi Channel. Story created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.