Fallen Angel

Part 10

Mark rushed to the entrance of the cave, holding his wounded arm out in the rain. He hoped that he could wash away the black. He squeezed his arm trying to push the black liquid back, but only a single drop escaped to be washed away by the rain. Mark lowered his arm to the sand, watching a single vein turn black as it traveled up his arm. He tried to keep his heartrate slow and tried not to flex his fingers. Glancing back over his shoulder, he stared at Anti's unconscious form. There was no help for him now. Mark slumped against the cave entrance, choosing to stare out at the dark sky and listen to the heavy rain. If he was going to die, than he was going to enjoy something first. He tried not to dwell on the sad things. Yet, his mind was against him on that front. So, he simple told the darkness. "Dad... I... I-". 

He was struggling to find the words that he wanted to say. He felt like he needed to say something, but what could he say that his dad didn't possibly already know? His eyes were starting to water, when a deep voice cut him off by stating. "I remember now why I abandoned you. Frankly, I hate everything that you stand for and everything that you are". Mark blinked in confusion and looked around. There was no one but himself and Anti. Sitting up off the wall a little, he asked aloud curiously. "Dad..."? The deep voice didn't answer, but he could hear someone breathing deep and heavy like an animal. Mark very slowly rose up onto his knees, squinting into the darkest corners all around him as he asked nervously. "Who are you"? The heavy breathing suddenly fell silent and Mark felt goosebumps tingle down his arms.

Were they alone here? There wasn't a whole lot of places for a person to hide. He rose carefully to his feet, listening closely to every sound. Then half hidden in the heavy rain and crashing waves, the deep voice finally answered him. "You know who I am". Mark took a deep breath and looked down at his arm. The black vein was under his short shirt sleeve now. He yanked his sleeve up and then pulled down his shirt collar franticly. The black vein at some point had reached all the way to his neck... and out of his sight. Panting softly, he shook his head, mumbling to himself. "It's the virus. It's messing with my head. It's not real". Mark closed his eyes, took a few breaths and opened his eyes. As his eyes fell on a very faint dark silhouette standing in the pouring rain, Mark quickly turned his back on it, mumbling louder. "IT'S NOT REAL"!

Mark tried to force himself to relax, staring out at the fire as he took shallower breathes. His breathing hitched though as the deep voice whispered over his shoulder and into his ear. "Something standing behind you that you didn't notice before. And you're too afraid to turn around now because... What if it actually is there? You see the argument for what something is and why something is, or is not scary. Is not important. Because in the end, you'll find there is much worse things waiting for you, than a simple jump scare". Mark held his breath, reluctantly turning his head very slowly to look over his shoulder. He prayed that there was nothing there. In his peripheral vision, a dark form slid away like a black mist. A cold chill ran up Mark's back, causing Mark to finally breathe shallow breaths again.

What was this virus doing to him? What was this meant to do? Push him to the brink of paranoia and madness? Hearing a malevolent voice and seeing things. Jumping at shadows. The virus wasn't designed to kill him like a venom... but it was messing with his mind like a poison. Staggering to Anti's body, Mark fell to his knees and shook Anti, pleading out desperately. "Anti, wake up! I need your help! Please"! Neither Anti or Sean responded. Mark whipped his forehead with his good arm and shook his head to clear his blurring vision. He was starting to sweat like crazy and his eyes were having trouble focusing. Falling away from Anti's body, Mark crawled toward the entrance of the cave. He had to get away from the fire and out into the cold rain. As he crawled to the entrance, he noticed something walking beside him. Something was following him.

Mark extended his good hand out to feel the rain drops against his fingers, when a foot forced his chest into the sand. Trying to focus on only the cold rain on his fingers, the deep voice above him told him soothingly. "Death is too good for you. I'd rather watch you suffer alone in the darkness. Forever". Mark closed his eyes, panting through the rising heat that his body was feeling. He thought he just might pass out from it, when a cold hand slapped him hard across the cheek. Mark jerked his head up, discovering that he was sitting mere inches from the fire. Had any of that been real? Was he sweating because he had been leaning closer to the fire? Anti shoved him backward across the sand, moving to stand between him and the fire with an emotionless face. Mark laid back against the sand, feeling the cool night air on his heated skin. The cold never felt so good.

After a minute, Anti moved away from the fire, bitterly grumbling out in an even thicker irish accent. "Sweet fucking hell! Are ya trying to burn yourself alive? I can assure ya that there are better ways to go. Fecking stupid...". Mark chuckled softly to himself. So both Anti and Sean's accents got thicker when they were scared or worried. He found that amusing, but strange. They were so similar and yet so entirely different. The most interesting thing though, was that Anti had saved him? Mark winced as he sat up. Anti was standing by a rock in the cave, ripping the bones from... a fish? Mark blinked in confusion. When had Anti gotten up to fish? How long was he in that... nightmare? Anti moved his fish to the fire and draped it across a heated rock without looking at him. Was he still mad at him?

Looking hesitantly down at his wrist, he could see the black vein... but it wasn't even to his elbow yet. Sighing in slight relief, he asked Anti nervously. "Anti... Your virus-". Anti grabbed his fish with his bare hand and flipped it over, snapping out at him bitterly. "It would be better if you didn't talk to me. Otherwise, the next time you flip out...". Anti raised his eyes from the fire to stare at him with merciless eyes and a heartless tone as he finishing off. "I'll let you burn". Mark hugged his wounded arm to his chest, asking bluntly. "So, why didn't you? If you hate me so much. Why save me at all"? Anti lowered his eyes back to the fish, mumbling out. "I don't have to explain shite to you". Mark climbed to his feet, exposing his wounded arm for Anti to see the black vein as he snapped back. "Is it because this is your way of punishing me? A sick way to make me suffer and feel your pain"?

Anti sat back on his heels, his eyes rising up to meet Mark's, before dryly stating out without any emotion in his voice. "There is no way you could ever feel my suffering and pain. You'd die under the weight of it. Besides, I'm not interested in your sympathy. I'd rather just watch the light leave your eyes as everyone you love... melts away into madness. To feel that bitter pain of being forgotten by all those around you... Until you are left with nothing, but the pain and the darkness that haunts you. That is what I want for you". Mark moved closer to kneel down next to Anti. Anti locked murderous eyes on him, but Mark wasn't afraid of him right now. Staring back into his eyes, Mark very softly uttered out to him. "Anti... Once you've consumed this world in madness and taken everything you desire. It won't fill the void you're trying to feed. You'll feel just as lonely and forgotten as a God of this world. It won't change what you are feeling right now. People consumed in madness will not remember you".

Anti turned his attention back to the fish, muttering out. "You know nothing of the world. You petty creatures were made just as perfect as HE was. What would you know". Mark risked putting his good hand on Anti's leg, telling him seriously. "How much of this world have you really seen, Anti? We are anything, but perfect. We struggle, we suffer, we fail. The difference is that we also care. We persistently try when there is no hope of success. We hate our lives, but we make the best of them. We all want to be remembered, but the only thing that matters are those few that will remember you. Cause they'll remember the real you. Not the parts you simply played for their amusement. You hate me because I took your life away... but were you really living to begin with, Anti"? Anti removed the rock with the fish from the fire and dropped in down in the sand in front of Mark.

Mark glanced at the fish curiously, then felt Anti slap his hand off his leg. Anti climbed to his feet without a word, walking over to the cave entrance.  The storm had passed them over now, leaving just the darkness and the calm crash of waves against the shore.  Anti raised an arm to lean against the rocky opening, staring out at the calm dark waves, before he answered in a light snappy tone of voice. "I didn't ask for your opinion. And when I heal, I'll be leaving without you". To Be Continued...