Further Torments and Slavery
Posted: Tue Mar 28, 2023 12:27 am
[Daniel Ozanne continued from the torment of Knowing You]
Talking had been Daniel's refuge - against boredom, back in his old world, against aimlessness here. When he wandered through the snow looking for a ladder, he didn't feel like he was on a wild goose chase, not as long as he talked to Taylor. Talked about anything. Talked about whatever was in sight. Talked about plans he made up as he was speaking them into existence. He said a whole lot of nothing, and what he really meant by it all was I'm still breathing.
And here Daniel was, still breathing. The same couldn't be said for Cedar, but who else did he have, really?
"I..." the words wouldn't form, but he could laugh tiredly, joylessly. "Shit, you'd hate me saying this, but I wish you didn't... throw yourself away for someone who died a day later. I wish... I could have met you, again."
That was underselling it, wasn't it? Sometimes he'd lie in bed (just like this, on a more comfortable surface) and think - what if they met a few years later? Maybe his mom and Genie would be right and he'd settle down or some shit like that. He'd be less interested in cheap thrills and the beautifully agonizing moment-to-moment of games and bets, and he'd look for some kind of anchor. Once, he had an anchor like that. And then, he tossed her away because she wasn't thrilling enough.
He kept laughing.
"Shit, any time would have been a good time to meet you! Or a bad time! Probably..." he breathed out, and his voice lowered to a whisper. "...bad, actually."
He breathed in, and kept breathing, for... how much longer, exactly?
"If we met at the start then..." Then there would be an extra pair of hands to help her.
(Then she would have died anyway. She would have died like Steve, or Marian, or Taylor, or probably Wendy in the near future.)
"...then that might have been nice," he muttered, not entirely believing what he said. He rubbed his temples. "And if we met at the end..."
(Cedar would have never made it to the very end.)
"...fuck. You would have insisted someone else win." She might have even offered herself up if the one other prospective winner didn't have a kill yet, or just- walked off a ledge if they did? Daniel already knew how Cedar died in this reality. He didn't want to think of all the other ways she was doomed.
(But he did, on some level. All the better to illustrate how slim - how exciting - the odds of saving her would be. Like the mental version of putting someone in danger just to "rescue" them in the nick of time.)
He fell silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
(But internally, he kept talking to himself. Obviously, Daniel was not a hero. He didn't even try all that hard. Maybe he could have gone after Marian. He could have returned to Steve's ditch. He could have run faster, faster, faster, over the icy mountain paths. Selfishness had a vice grip on everything he did, even before selfishness became a matter of life and death.)
"You'd be glad I was alive, right?"
(Barring the fact that Cedar was, in fact, dead, Daniel knew for a fact what her answer would be, which made this question all the more pathetic. He might as well have painted six dots on every face of the die before rolling it.)
Unfortunately, that answer would have to suffice.
[Daniel Ozanne continued in further torments, as One Who Seeks]
Talking had been Daniel's refuge - against boredom, back in his old world, against aimlessness here. When he wandered through the snow looking for a ladder, he didn't feel like he was on a wild goose chase, not as long as he talked to Taylor. Talked about anything. Talked about whatever was in sight. Talked about plans he made up as he was speaking them into existence. He said a whole lot of nothing, and what he really meant by it all was I'm still breathing.
And here Daniel was, still breathing. The same couldn't be said for Cedar, but who else did he have, really?
"I..." the words wouldn't form, but he could laugh tiredly, joylessly. "Shit, you'd hate me saying this, but I wish you didn't... throw yourself away for someone who died a day later. I wish... I could have met you, again."
That was underselling it, wasn't it? Sometimes he'd lie in bed (just like this, on a more comfortable surface) and think - what if they met a few years later? Maybe his mom and Genie would be right and he'd settle down or some shit like that. He'd be less interested in cheap thrills and the beautifully agonizing moment-to-moment of games and bets, and he'd look for some kind of anchor. Once, he had an anchor like that. And then, he tossed her away because she wasn't thrilling enough.
He kept laughing.
"Shit, any time would have been a good time to meet you! Or a bad time! Probably..." he breathed out, and his voice lowered to a whisper. "...bad, actually."
He breathed in, and kept breathing, for... how much longer, exactly?
"If we met at the start then..." Then there would be an extra pair of hands to help her.
(Then she would have died anyway. She would have died like Steve, or Marian, or Taylor, or probably Wendy in the near future.)
"...then that might have been nice," he muttered, not entirely believing what he said. He rubbed his temples. "And if we met at the end..."
(Cedar would have never made it to the very end.)
"...fuck. You would have insisted someone else win." She might have even offered herself up if the one other prospective winner didn't have a kill yet, or just- walked off a ledge if they did? Daniel already knew how Cedar died in this reality. He didn't want to think of all the other ways she was doomed.
(But he did, on some level. All the better to illustrate how slim - how exciting - the odds of saving her would be. Like the mental version of putting someone in danger just to "rescue" them in the nick of time.)
He fell silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
(But internally, he kept talking to himself. Obviously, Daniel was not a hero. He didn't even try all that hard. Maybe he could have gone after Marian. He could have returned to Steve's ditch. He could have run faster, faster, faster, over the icy mountain paths. Selfishness had a vice grip on everything he did, even before selfishness became a matter of life and death.)
"You'd be glad I was alive, right?"
(Barring the fact that Cedar was, in fact, dead, Daniel knew for a fact what her answer would be, which made this question all the more pathetic. He might as well have painted six dots on every face of the die before rolling it.)
Unfortunately, that answer would have to suffice.
[Daniel Ozanne continued in further torments, as One Who Seeks]