Phantom

 " A strong man doesn’t need to read the future. He makes his own.”— Solid Snake, ‘Metal Gear Solid’. Hello! I'm Phantom and I'm 18 years old, and here is a place where you'll find many origional works written by me!// Please be kind and respectul of me and others here, thank you! 

[phantomgl1tchh]

tear out my heart..

“Tear out my heart and tell me it wasn't for nothing.” //

They gripped the protagonist's wrists, wrestling them away from their shoulders, prying their fingers away from their clothes as they grasped desperately for a semblance of human connection, the spark they had, something. They stared back at them, wanting to tear that familiar face they’d once felt safe around, one they wished they could move past.

“Just stop, you’re going to hurt yourself.” they’d said, voice breaking as they lowered their old friend's hands away from them and back down to their own body, away from the safety and comfort of their own. As much as their paths diverged, as much as their lives changed, and as much as they didn't click anymore, they wished no ill intent to them, they just wanted them to stop; to turn around from where they came and forget about them, their countless years together, years spent learning of each other. It couldn’t be the same anymore. Please.

The protagonist stared at them desperately, a sickening look of despair and hurt adorning their face, scraping away any of their normal personality and dumping it at their feet, leaving dark shards of shattered and splintered glass in their wake as they stared up at them, they looked them in the eye for a moment, lost in gray as they remembered the last 10 years. The look didn't last long at all, they averted their gaze, breaking past their emotions– trying to– break past their emotions. Don’t make it harder than it has to be… please.

“Then tell me why, tell me what changed.. What happened? What changed?” they let out a sputtering sigh, slowly flittering their gaze back to those eyes, gray as they always were, like the dark storm clouds on a rainy day, washing the Earth of fire and soaking the ground with its ever-lasting water, hydrating the dry vegetation; eyes that always looked back and listened intently about whichever topics were brought up between the two, they that looked at them skeptically whenever a joke was told between them, eyes that closed when they heard something utterly ridiculous then opened again as they focused on their driving. Eyes now holding countless years and months of memories and pain, the hurt spilling out at the seams, ripping apart at the stitches and the insides spilling out, getting caught in the breeze and lost in the wind, gone forever. They looked away again, debating their words.

“I just… our lives are too different now, we just wouldn't get along, things’ve changed, I can’t see us working well anymore… I'm sorry.” they kept their eyes to the ground, their brows scrunched as they glared at the debris beneath their feet, the debris that would normally get stared and speculated at. They once would’ve giggled at the out-of-place wrapper, making up fantastical assumptions about how it got there and who might’ve dropped it. Now they just stared at it and its brightly colored orange film, it swayed in the light breeze before it floated off, a dull and painful ache in their chest. They looked up, seeing the familiar gaze once more, their eyes snapping to each other, no malice, no anger, just confusion and hurt crossing both sets of eyes. Stop. 

The protagonist let out a shuddering breath as they brought their hand up to the back of their neck, scratching as their eyes scrunched closed for a moment, hair blowing in the wind as they debated their next set of words; all silent before they spoke up, barely audible, murmuring, “… is that really what you think? Is it what you want?” their eyes opened, staring quietly as they patiently awaited an answer, their face held no bitterness, anger and hurt yes, but aimed to their own person and not the one ending this arrangement. Please tell me. They looked the protagonist in the eye, wanting this to be over so they could go about their separate ways, never to see each other again, “It has to be this way.. It won't work any other way.. It's not just you or me.. We just live different lives now,” they said, staring into their eyes with equal hurt, as much as their lives were different and as much as they knew they couldn’t live compatibly within each others company, it hurt like hell. 

The protagonist nodded, their hand dropping to their hood, pulling it up and over their head, covering their head of hair as they looked at them once more, nodding, understanding, “Alright… I’m sorry.” they muttered calmly, they looked back before taking a few steps back, beginning to walk off and leave; content with leaving this piece of their past behind, content with leaving things as they were right now; content but upset, as is to be expected.

They followed after them, wanting to explain more, to get them to understand better to get them to at least stop for a minute, just a minute longer.. Please.. They caught up to them quickly, their voice raising a little bit to say more, “It's not- not you or me it's just..” Their old friend– Protagonist– stopped and turn around gently, looking over at them as they listened to their words before their lips twitched, interrupting them. Stop cutting them off. Their voice raising up, desperate and pleading as the words fell from their lips before they could even process them, before they could even think about what they were saying as word vomit spilled from the seam of their lips, their words desperate but not angry, not accusing, just pleading, “Just.. just look at me and tell me it wasn't for nothing, please don't tear my heart out for nothing, please tell me our time together meant something… please. Please.” their voice broke at the end of their sentence, they tried to keep up their nonchalant persona even now, rapidly blinking away tears and bringing their sleeve up to their face, the fabric of their hoodie soaking them up, leaving their eyes red, “Please…”

They looked back, their lips pressing together as their brows upturned slightly, nodding along to their request. It wasn’t a lie, they couldn't do that to them, not now. “…it.. Wasnt for nothing.. I was glad to have known you.” their voice falters at the end of their sentence as they turn their head away, not knowing what else to say now. They took in some deep breaths as they kept staring at the ground, wanting to shrivel up and hide from the world.

The pro- Protagonist sighed, nodding their head as they look up at their past friend, understanding and accepting their new heart-shattering life, they felt as if someone had clawed their way into their chest, their memories, their mind and had ripped out a large portion of their life, of their soul. They took a few steps back, the gravel crunching under their feet “Alright.” the sound of gravel being disturbed met both of their ears as they both walked off, effectively leaving parts of their lives behind, leaving their life in that fateful gravel lot.

“I’m sorry.”

// a/n: hi, im kinda hoping for,, i dont even know, to put it plainly this is a vent and i just need to get my fucking thoughts out; neither are in the wrong here

if anyone does decide to use this or to imagine their characters this is purely a platonic piece and id like to keep it that way

no hate to anyone this "vent" is about,

[epiclamer-deactivated20241016]

Dad i've finally made this into an actual blog instead of a sideblog omg are you proud

I’m always proud.

[phantomgl1tchh]

omg what a slay

[phantomgl1tchh]

Wagner Collins; Continued

A loud bang rang throughout the familiar sterile-gray facility. Loud noises were normal here if he was being honest; recruits training in secluded rooms, learning how to use weapons quickly and effectively. But this was different, it wasn’t muffled. Wasn’t controlled. Wasn’t a test. No. Someone had broken in. Someone who knew their way around, what he assumed to be some sort of rifle, got inside.

He knelt beside a wall, peeking over the corner as he readied his own weapon; a syringe full of the same compound that was used on him and countless other subjects in their youth. This mysterious compound, the name of which eluded him at the moment, gave others superhuman abilities. Powers only heard of in fantasy books and sci-fi comics.

Perhaps if the intruder made their way to him he’d be able to… test… the compound. Observe the effects of the element on an adult body. Previously the mixture was given to young children; smuggled in with their vaccines, or given when no doctors were present. They’re more susceptible to change, less of a risk.

Syringe in hand he stalked forward, alert to all pin-drop noises. From the smallest breath to the loudest scream of fear that echoed throughout the building. To the silent footsteps of the intruder made their way down the hall, escaping with some sort of research.

He quickly dove behind a sterilizing table, a loud thump echoing through the hall. He listened as two sets of footsteps made their way down the corridor; their menacing aura filling every crevice, every gap and crack, filling the room with vengeance and fear. He felt his heart rate spike as the footsteps grew closer, closer. The menacing thump, thump, thump of combat boots and the click, click, click of some other type of shoe meeting the metal floor. This person, or people, knew their business, how to survive, how to operate in fields of battle. They were experienced mercenaries, soldiers, fighters, or something dangerous. Something seething, ready to strike.

His eyes snapped up and he cocked his head to the side, ready to pounce. His hands wrapped around the syringe so tightly he thought the glass would shatter, piercing his incredibly pale skin. The footsteps ceased and the familiar sound of a weapon being drawn met his ears. His pale crimson eyes met with the end of a steel pipe. Ice-cold panic surged painfully through his chest as he glanced up, meeting the familiar blue gaze he despised.

“Wagner,” a young, hushed voice muttered bitterly. Her blue eyes glaring and her weapon following his every move, ready to strike if he so much as moved the wrong way. His heart fell to his throat, “never thought I’d see you again, you illiterate inbred.”

A resentful chuckle left his lips. His thick, white hair swayed with the movement of him standing, the syringe falling and clattering to the ground, his hands raised in surrender, “and I never thought I’d see your traitorous face again either Wren- or… no, Erin now, right? Finally see your life is your own again or whatever nonsense the Jays have been filling your head with.” he retorted, scoffing.

A resentful smile decorated his chapped lips, his voice dripped with bitter sarcasm and disbelief, “oh, and I see that you have RAVEN 001 with you, couldn’t leave it behind, could you? Oh, how sweet, you have someone who actually cared about you. A, uh… brother, that didn’t leave you behind, a brother that wanted-”

Cold anger filled her icy glare as he talked, her good hand dropped swiftly from her weapon, the weight of it balancing on her prosthetic hand for a moment as she passed it to her companion. His faux hands took it from her, the metal of the pipe and the metal compound of his hand clicking together, two worlds of metal meeting for the first time.

The movement was lightning quick, leaving him no chance of reacting.

Next thing he knew he was falling to the floor, his face exploding with searing, red-hot pain. His skull made a signature crack, colliding with the metal floor harshly. He felt the heel of a boot press into his knee, he swore he felt it dislocate. His eyes snapped open, a startled yet pained cry erupting from his throat.

The blond girl kneeled next to him, her prosthetic hand digging into the fabric of his dark gray trench coat, hauling him forward. Her enraged face half a foot away from his, he could see the depth of the scar under her right eye, he hoped it hurt.

Petrified, he scanned the room looking for any sort of barrier he could put between the two, to keep distance between them, something to get him out when Erin spoke up again.

“My brother went missing in the field during the attack two years ago, he's missing. He didn’t.. didn’t leave me behind.” she sneered, voice faltering at the end of her sentence.

Her unsettling blue eyes pierced his soul to the ground, leaving it with no chance of escape. Her hand released its grip on his coat, causing his body to hit the steel floor again, red filled his vision and his body gave out, giving up the urge to fight back.

She stood back up, taking the pipe from her companion, keeping an eye on Wagner, ensuring he wouldn’t try anything foolish or dangerous. She watched and cracked her neck, the faux skin around her throat stretching as she craned it from side to side, releasing any tension and stress trapped within before she began walking away.

Though she stopped after a few feet, the familiar echoing of shoes coming to a halt, and looked back at the semi-conscious scientist. At one point he maintained her MICROSYSTEM and prosthetic arm, giving it any repairs or upgrades it might need. An odd look of betrayal and resentment dotted her pale face “and for the record, his name is Nickolai.”

And she was gone, leaving Wagner behind in the deteriorating, vile building. He felt his consciousness fogging over, felt it giving into the sweet release of indefinite rest. No more stress, no more tests. Just ignorant and eternal peace. A lasting peace that he would feel for the first time in 27 long years, the peace that his soul desperately needed. But no, his heart would not allow it. He wouldn’t let that happen. He resented the idea of her winning like this, winning the battle against testing the element.

No, he had to test the revised compound, observe its effects, compare them to the old compound, win. He found himself reaching weakly towards where he dropped the syringe, gently patting the metal floor for any trace of it, a small drop, a puddle, broken glass, anything.

He found himself growing desperate for it, his mind reeling with fear of death, of hatred and distain for Erin and her idiotic sense of self-worth, of ruthless anger for all those who told for him to hide his ideals and ways of learning. He needed to get the syringe.

The familiar feeling of a smooth rounded surface met the tips of his broken fingers. Waves of hope flooded through his chest; if he could just wrap the rest of his hand around it, he’d have a second chance. He’d get out of the facility for good, and he could finally observe the effects of the revised element. Watch Erin finally lose, watch everything she cared for burn and sink to hell.

His fingers hooked around the metal casing. The clattering of thin glass met his ears and he held his breath. If the glass broke, he was done for. Countless hours and days of careful research would be for nothing, he would die with nothing to show for his legacy, his past.

A moment later, the syringe was safely encased in his fingers; luck had shone her gratuitous smile onto him, giving him a second chance at life, a second chance to get it right, a chance at revenge. He pulled himself up, using the table filled with sterilizing equipment as support for his weak frame.

The protective plastic coating the needle was removed with bruised and shaky fingers. Those same fingers tapped the glass a few times, ensuring any air pockets inside the liquid bubbled to the surface and out of the compound, keeping the liquid clear and safe to inject.

Without a second thought, he brought the needle up to his wrist, briefly scanning for the blue lines that indicated where his blood flowed. Then he stabbed, injecting every last drop of the compound into his bloodstream, ensuring none went to waste. He could worry about making more later.

[phantomgl1tchh]

RAVEN-001

She crept down the sterile gray passages, listening for anyone inside the unethical facility. No sound passed through the metal walls, no activity evident in the constantly sanitized halls, no scientists or doctors running about, performing tests on the new subjects, compounds, or elements.

Silence.

There was one person here she was looking for, though calling him fully human was inaccurate as his body was mostly cybernetically enhanced. They worked together on many field missions, mostly communicating electronically through her earpiece or through sign language as his jaw was wired shut. Though he had a way of speaking aloud through faux vocalcords and enhanced speakers in his throat, his cybernetic voice was much louder and had a static undertone to it, giving away their position during an infiltration mission. 

She stopped and ducked left, hiding behind a sterilizing table as a soldier sauntered past her, leaving behind a trail of menacing aura. She waited.

The soldier meandered past her lazily and she slipped behind them, walking briskly towards the cell that held her field partner, mentor, and friend. The organization only saw him as an experiment, seeing how far they could modify the human body before it broke. He was more than that, he was a skilled soldier, a brilliant strategist, the one who pushed for someone to monitor her MICROSYSTEM, the new system used to regulate the bodies and minds of soldiers, when it began failing. He was her family, her surrogate brother.

Her thoughts shifted as a familiar door came into view, the words RAVEN-001 printed on the wall in front of the cell he was in. She brought out a stolen entry card, swiped it in the key slot, and typed in the unfamiliar code with her prosthetic hand. The metal of the hand clicked with the metal buttons of the pin pad.

17095.

The door slid open, and she stepped in; seeing a familiar head connected to a dialysis machine, the machine plugged into his arms and back, filtering the artificial blood through his body. Her brow furrowed as she wandered toward him, regret slithered through her like a snake when his dull cloudy gaze shifted to her.

“Nikolai,” she muttered, gathering the artificial limbs, preparing to put him together.