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+ Moment Of Peace + [PG 13]

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by Knightblazer, Mar 8, 2007.

  1. Knightblazer

    Knightblazer Memories in the Rain

    Meh, I'm not so sure if I can post this, but meh. XD Anyway, this is... was my entry for the Roses and Chocolates Romance One shot Contest, of which I surprsingly came out first... (and I am still shocked that I won. Proves that S'poeans English are not that all bad..... ;>>)

    *coughs* Anyway, erm... so I shall post to you the fic that helped me clinch the title of the champion. And err... nevermind...

    + Moment Of Peace +

    There has always been a solace in denial, although Mewtwo can never really consider himself to be in denial. There is a luxury in being able to say, with absolutely certainty, that the ghosts of the past are where they are meant to be – in the past. He fancies that these memories are dead, rotting like corpses far beneath the earth, nothing more than food for insects. Poisonous dreams and rotting memories – those are all that remain in the wintry graveyard of his mind.

    But the clone knows now that there is no end without a beginning, and he cannot die without suffering for the things left unresolved. And that in itself almost scares him away from death, because he had not been able to end it fast enough to keep those memories from creeping up behind him like true monsters. It only takes the slightest moment for everything to come to surface, a bubble rising from the lowest pit of the ocean; he is unable to prevent it.

    That’s all it took. A single instant, and Mewtwo finds himself as nothing more than a scared, lonely child on a cold, lonely night.

    Confused, lost, and weakening by the second.

    Mew had not let Mewtwo’s misery end, had taken no pity of his plight. No, Mew had stolen away that single chance Mewtwo had of finding an end, that single hope. The clone knows there is no honor nor solace to be taken in passing his burdens onto another Pokemon. It’s a detestable fate he himself has been unable to escape, and Mew is precious to him, despite everything. He cannot leave her to suffer in his stead.

    Before this night, Mewtwo had been content with his mind in the state of numb contentment, and only seeming to remember that he didn’t want to remember the past. He would stare at those words engraved under the lid of his coffin in miniscule etches every morning before sleeping; don’t remember.

    Those two words were a mantra in his head, an unending oath he had whispered to himself thousands of times. He did this until he was certain he remembered nothing but those two little words.

    Don’t remember.

    There was always a pain somewhere within him, a constant dull ache in a place where a rotting heart lay dormant. A cold, dead organ, so different from the warm lump of flesh he had torn from Mew, riddled with thorns, still thrumming with whatever mockery of life the fallen feline has maintained. Mewtwo cannot stomach the heavy weight in his palm for long, and he drops it, the organ descending to the ground with a wet slap.

    There is no hope now; as strong as the feline is, no creature is whole without its heart, no creature is truly alive. Mewtwo is burdened with a heart that does not work; so useless it might as well not be there at all.

    The clone breathes in deeply. The feline’s blood is everywhere, yet it seems so little when he looks at it. There are thorns and shards of sliver scattered along the ground, all torn and shattered. There seems to be so little blood, but Mewtwo can smell it, permeating his senses.

    There is no bloodlust, no hunger, just a tainted, sickening sensation that spreads through his chest into his stomach. It’s hard to see now, through the thick sheen of bloody tears that still coat his eyes. Each breath is a broken sob, but the clone does not care anymore. Does not care who sees his weeping like the wretched creature he is, because it does not matter. All of the people who see him break will die, many before the moon rises again. The memories of this will be his alone to bear, and Mewtwo feels that he will once again be left alone in a graveyard, digging holes with bloodied fingers in a desperate attempt to bury the past again.

    Mewtwo will outlive them all, just as he has always outlived each and every person he’s met thus far. He will bury them, and then forget until the cycle begins again. A cycle he is so desperately tired of now.

    Mew is still breathing; the clone doesn’t understand how the feline manages to do so without lungs to take in the air, but he supposes that is a mystery with no real answer. Breathing without lungs is as asinine as Mewtwo living without a beating heart to pump his blood, and yet both of them are still awake in this nightmare.

    There’s so little left of the Pokemon now; Mewtwo had torn every thorn from her, every piece of the monster that had absorbed his beloved enemy. Many of the sharp thorns are still deeply embedded in his hands and arms, but the clone barely notices the prickle of pain. It’s nothing.

    There’s a sharp breath from the dying feline. Mewtwo’s own sobbing dwindles and fades into uneven, moist gasps. A single blue eye is staring up at him, a startlingly rich shade for a Pokemon, but the clone knows this is what Mew is. A Pokemon, yet not truly one. Something of a close mimicry of a Pokemon, but that’s close enough.

    Mew’s smiling.

    The sunlight breaks through the darkness abruptly. It’s shedding blinding gold over the burning city. Mewtwo’s shadow is cast over the fallen feline, shielding her from the golden heavens, sparing her the agony of the morning beauty. Mew does not seem to mind, does not seek out the golden skies. Her gaze remains transfixed onto the clone, as if she can see nothing else.

    And that may be true.

    Mewtwo falls to his knees next to what’s left of Mew’s broken body. Through the sheen of blood tears and golden morning light, he can almost see the rest of the feline, the iridescent soul of the fallen one. The soul is breathing, so alive, more alive than its ever been. In her moments of death, that soul thrives, and it is so close Mewtwo can almost reach out and touch it.

    But he doesn’t. His tremulous paws continue to rub away the tears that refuse to stop falling, mourning for so much, for the graves he’s had to dig, for the memories no longer lost in the long stretch of eternity.

    Mew’s eye meets his gaze, an unfocused stare. The feline says something, words without sound, but yet the clone understands.


    Mewtwo’s hands clench, and he moves closer to what’s left of the messiah. The surviving Legendaries creep closer to their leader as well, but keep their distance, and the clone does not spare them so much as the slightest glance. They do not matter; they are only scenery to what seems to be some horrible nightmare.

    And Mewtwo supposes it must be a nightmare, because suddenly everything changes. He closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, and the world seems to die and wither around him. There’s darkness, and silence that’s so perfectly silent. It’s like listening to nothing but the sound of the winter wind, a sound without true depth, but you can feel it with every fiber of your being.

    The feline is with him, and the clone still doesn’t know whether he’s awake or still dreaming. It feels real, that sweet sensation of arms wrapped around him tightly, the small, furry warm chest of the feline against his back.

    Where did your innocence go, Mewtwo?

    She isn’t speaking, but he hears it nonetheless. The silent voice seems to wrap around that supposedly lifeless organ in his chest, and a frail heartbeat shudders beneath his ribcage. It hurts, hurts more than any pain Mewtwo has experienced in a century. It feels more like his heart is dying than coming back to life.

    He wants to ask where Mew’s innocence has gone, but he has no voice. Every breath is a sob deep in his burning chest, a cry of agony and despair. Mewtwo doesn’t want this, doesn’t want to remember anymore, yet the memories keep slipping through his consciousness, unrestrained. Nightmares within a nightmare, but yet this place seems to bring on some form of peace, as slight as it is.

    The clone stares through the bleary darkness. This is a place between life and death. He knows it, knows because he’s been here before, long ago. It’s like waking up from a nightmare, yet death itself is just another dream.

    It feels so calm, that strange calm that always seems to appear before life shatters into millions of shards. Everything is going to change now.

    Mew shifts before him, moving to face Mewtwo. The motion is slow, but there are afterimages left in her wake. The entire universe seems to blear together, as if there is no real distance. Everything meshes together seamlessly, souls, emotions, memories.

    This is what Mewtwo has longed for, to lose his memories, to lose himself inside this place. But he knows this is not his death, no matter how much he longs to cling to this moment. He feels he should feel angry at this, angry that he cannot have this, but he cannot bring himself to feel anything but tranquil. It’s like awakening after a deep sleep, rested and calm.

    Mew looks at him with the same expression he had before. No hatred, no anger, just a tranquil stare, a vague smile that seems only a little sad. She’s fading away.

    There’s a brush of fingertips over his tearstains. Mewtwo’s still crying tears for a lost child, yet he is no longer sure that he isn’t that child now. All of the years he spent growing and changing seem useless now. Deep inside, the clone never made it past the suffering he had endured as a child.

    Still dreaming of better things, just like a child, never accepting bitter reality.

    There is a kiss, a brush of lips that develops into something harsh. It’s nothing innocent, since neither of them truly are innocent. It’s anger, hatred, desperation all in a single gesture. It’s everything Mewtwo wants to say, all the accusations he wants to make, all the rage and betrayal he still bears. Without a voice, there is nothing else he can do. The living have no voice in the land of the dead, and although Mewtwo has his doubts on whether his body is living, he knows that his soul has not yet awoken.

    The kiss softens after all of the rage diminishes. It isn’t gone, far from it, but the clone has no more use for it. It’s just another demon clinging to his exhausted soul, one that he can’t quite shake away. But it’s gone for the time being, fading away as he relishes in the sensation of a warm body against his.

    How long has it been since he’s felt warmth in such a way?

    There are hands on him, a lover’s touch. It hurts, because each touch brings that phantom beat from a heart he knows shouldn’t be able to beat.

    Mew pulls away. This world is not quite silent anymore; there are voices and the desperate sound of weeping echoing distantly within the darkness. Mewtwo realizes he must be starting to fall asleep again. His vision is hazy, the entire image beginning to blear, and a dizzy sensation washes over the clone’s mind. He blinks slowly, and when he opens his eyes, Mew is far away, walking away.


    The feline pauses in her step, glancing back at Mewtwo from the corner of her eye. The entire world seems to be fading more by the second, but the clone still sees the feline clearly before him, adorned now with two small wings, black and white. The feline carries both her virtues and her sins on his shoulders, yet she smiles.

    The entire world pauses, the silence falls again. It’s as if everything stops, waiting, holding a collective breath. It should feel strange, but it doesn’t.

    Mewtwo realized suddenly that the world is waiting for him to speak. If he does not say this one thing, this single farewell, he will suffer another eternity with an empty memory, a painful, regretful instant that will follow him.

    The clone smiles, just faintly. It will be the last smile shared between them. If Mew gains freedom from his burdens in his place, that is something the clone can accept. Despite the loneliness, freeing another monster in his place soothes the pain.

    Farewell, my beloved enemy.

    The world disintegrates, and Mewtwo is left with that last image of Mew walking into the distance. Despite the fact there were only a handful of words spoken between them, the clone feels there is nothing left unsaid. Mew is on the road to home, awoken from the black nightmare.

    Someday, the clone hopes to follow her, to be allowed to. But for now, he knows there is a life left unfinished, unresolved. Mew had forced him to stay for a little longer, even perhaps saving him from a distorted afterlife filled with nothing more than a self-imposed nightmare.

    Mewtwo opens his eyes. He is standing on the battlefield again, but no longer crying.


    Err... yeah. Everything's still in its original stuff, coz' its 6 in the morning and I hafta rush to school. Its the last day of term here. Reviews, Comments and Critisims welcome here! ^^; Once again, I'd like to thank the judges for all tehir hard work and to all other contestants! You're all winners too! ^^;

    Knightblazer ;262;
  2. Hahahabvc87

    Hahahabvc87 Always watching...

    I can see why the judges thought it was vague - it really is! Describing dreams doesn't come off as being easy to me, yet you seem to be able to pull it off beautifully, coherence and incoherence blending together into a foggy reality...

    And... yeah. Here are the errors I found which I'm sure to be errors, since some places I flagged seemed inapproapirate to change because the vagueness would disappear!

    "His" should be changed to "him" since it's describing Mewtwo himself, not how he wept.

    Past perfect tense is needed here. Change it to "he'd", short for "he had".

    ... >.<
    This one again? I thought it had been pointed out so many times that you would've gotten over it already!

    It's rather odd incorporating a nightmare into another nightmare;a map within a map, so confusing and vague. @_@ I'd also be lost if I had never read the small trilogy you wrote last year - people wouldn't quite know why Mew had thorns in her chest if they just read this alone!
  3. Sike Saner

    Sike Saner Peace to the Mountain

    Mmm. Another example of the awesomeness that happens when you get a hold of Mew and Mewtwo. (Not a literal hold; that’d likely just get you a.) a handful of air from where something feline and legendary had been prior to teleporting away, or b.) liquid draining from your nose and ears that had once been your brain before it was psychically liquefied. And yes, I’m in a silly mood right now for some reason. X3)

    Anyway, loved that imagery. The heart brought painfully back to life, the white wing and black wing representing sin and virtue…nice. :D Lovely depiciton of what was going through Mewtwo’s mind, all that he was experiencing (or seemed to experience). And again, I love the relationship you depict between Mew and Mewtwo. What was the term used here of Mew as Mewtwo regarded her? Ah yes. “Beloved enemy”. God, I love that. ^^

    Highlights and assorted bossnesses:

    Yay. Pretty, but also macabre—one of my favorite combinations of qualities.

    “ALL OF THE PEOPLE WHO SEE HIM BREAK WILL DIE” <3 And that second line makes me think of Coheed And Cambria lyrics, specifically from their most recent album even though those words or anything similar don’t actually appear in said lyrics. o_O At any rate, weirdness of my brain aside, yeah, I liked the above. :D

    I really liked that. Seriously, Mewtwo, you were hardly one to see anything strange in her ability to breathe since you’re a fellow member of the Missing or Dead Organ Club. XD

    …Again, I am in an especially silly mood tonight. XP

    I’ll say it again: “beloved enemy” = awesome.

    There’s a nice piece of loveliness. ^^ I especially like the “sparing her the agony of the morning beauty” part. Beauty as agony…I love that. And you know, some things are indeed so beautiful that they hurt. *can’t help but cast a glance at Rionette*

    …Er, yeah, as I was saying, cool stuff, there. XD;

    As I mentioned before, I like the idea of the pain of his heart coming back to life. ^^

    And that. Frell, that’s cool. o.o Matter of fact, that’s my favorite excerpt of this entire story. :D

    Looks like you’ve brought about another gem. Good stuff, good stuff. ^^

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