Work Text:
The sun is setting
Despite the nightmarish world, time continues as if normal
The only sense of normalcy.
You sit in a pew in the some-how intact church
Regretting every moment, leaving The Tower was a mistake.
You wondered what else this city held
You found out it only held death
The further you went out, the less TVs you saw
But it felt that for every lack of TV you saw, a corpse replaced it.
The buildings had ceased their decay, but the lack of care and rain meant they still rotted
And so did the bodies
Your anger at this world had dissipated temporarily
Compassion, it felt like only a trait you had as a child
But you felt it now.
Watching the frozen struggle of sad, simple lives attempting to escape the lure of your broadcast.
What have you done?
This question plays in your head as the sun sets
The beams of dying light cast over the slumped corpses
The light hits what remains of their eyes, they almost look alive
You can feel them staring at you.
You shouldn't be here.
You don't deserve it, to impose on this peaceful scene
You, alone on your pew
As these innocent folk sat politely
Seeking shelter as if the angel of death loomed over them.
But
Isn't that you in this world?
Every life taken here, was with aid of your powers
You certainly don't feel like any angel.
You more feel like a God,.
Overlooking, never showing yourself
God-like.
Choosing who will die.
Using the TV to spread your word.
Drawing in absentminded fools.
You promised happiness, if they only throw aside any sense of self.
You look upon the corpses in the church
Some died hugging one another
Others clutching their crosses or bibles
Either way, they had someone with them when they died
Will you?
Their souls certainly went to where they believed
But
What do you believe?
Your old body creaks as you lean forward
Your head in your hands, an upright fetal position you've found yourself in many times as a child, on that wretched chair.
You cried then.
Will you cry now?
You lifted your head in the direction of the dying light, unable to stand the sight of the dead
Out the window.
Looking at the graveyard.
The graveyard
Useless, with no one around to bury the dead
But
You're the one to be blamed for the predicament, so what grounds do you have to judge?
As the last of the sunlight faded, you noticed an angel statue.
It looked right into your eyes.
You knew what it felt
It echoed the feeling of every corpse you've caused.
Soon
You were left in darkness, the sun now gone.
Alone again.
Your eyes burned, you wish you could just feel anger again
Hatred, bitterness, the need for revenge
But
You only felt the cold grip of loneliness.
You felt The Tower's eyes on you once again
The painful wooden seat
You were back.
You'll never venture outside again
The outside world hates you And you're well aware of it.