i love your smile, and how your eyes sparkle with such joy and life. i love that you’re so confident in yourself and how you stand tall regardless of what others think. i love your passion for the dead and macabre. i love how easy it is to talk with you and the way you laugh
i love how fiercely loyal you are to your family, and how you won’t take any disrespect from anyone. i love that despite your soft curves, you have a sharp wit and even sharper tongue.
i love that you always brought out the best in me, and the worst too. i love that i could be myself around you. i love that we’d always have each other’s back.
but i didn’t. Not when it counted.
logically, i know that you wouldn’t have let me tagged along to meet your beau. but still, i should have done so much more. i should have vetoed this “troll” better; hell i should have met him regardless of how anxious he appeared to you!
but i didn’t. and now you’re gone.
now i’ll never see you smile again or say my name. i’ll never hear your laugh or feel your warmth.
i’ll never get to tell you that i love you in person
You know the interrogation block well; you've lost count of the bodies dragged in and out, broken and bleeding. Of the endless screams and pleas. You wish you could hear that instead of the hum coming from the freezer.
Despite yourself, you falter. You know she's in there; you're allowed to see her, Droog told you that she was in there.
And still you falter.
Because deep in your heart, you don't want to see her there.
You don't want proof that Aradia is well and truly gone.
You still can't believe it, or maybe you don't want to. There's this part of you that just would rather live in a world where you could pretend she's fine, she's just off exploring like she tends to do. Like she loves doing really.
But war is coming. War is about to bring hell on Derse to the city. It's coming to your door, and you can't have yourself faltering out there. Not to those damn murdering bastards. It doesn't matter if you have a rather amicable relationship with a few of them, your bosses' word is law.
Every single head will roll.
Or explode; they weren't picky about their choice of murder.
But that's why you have to open the door. You have to steel your resolve in this matter. You cannot falter.
You grasp the handle and pull open the door, letting the cold, frigid air wash past you. There's all sorts of things kept in a freezer, but your eyes are drawn right to the center.
Your throat constricts as you stare for what feels like a very long time. You aren't even aware that you've stumbled closer until you realize you're touching her cheek.
She's so cold.... she's too cold this is wrong Aradia isn't cold she's warm and bright and brilliant she's not this cold, she's never been still this isn't right it can't be right--!!
"A-Aradia... god Aradia please...."
Tears drip down your cheeks but you don't care. Your lip trembles, holding in a sob as you ever so gently brush back a stray curl of her hair, as you study her face.
You're never going to see her smile again; you'll never see those warm, red eyes sparkle. You'll never be able to hear her speak, or laugh; never again will you be able to embrace her.
You will never, ever, get to tell her how she really made you feel.
"I love you Aradia; I'm so sorry..."
And with that, you cry. You weep so very bitterly as you sink to the floor, overcome with that biting pain in your heart. You should have done something more, you should have been there.
Did she suffer?
You cry in the middle of that freezer until there are no more tears. Until you are numb, both from the cold and in your heart.
You stand and look at Aradia one last time. She didn't deserve this. But you will make those responsible pay for it.
Pound for pound.
"I'll make them suffer Aradia. I'll burn them all for you. Their last moments will be in pure agony for ever laying their hands on you. I'm... so sorry that I missed my chance."
You lift one of her frigid hand to your lips and kiss her inner wrist.
"I hope I'll see you on the other side, when the time comes."
You look her over one last time before exiting the freezer, your heart and eyes now as cold as ice.
63 hours. It has been 63 hours since your little girl was murder, and you’ve spent most of them here with her, bundled up as she is and shoved in the freezers like a choice cut of meat. A whole fuckin’ hog, stowed away in the cold and dark, waiting to be pulled out and thawed and ripped to bits, trying to get at the good part--the hows and whys and whens. All that legal bullshit.
It’s easier to think of her--of it--this way. And yet you have not brought yourself to move since. To let her cold, cold hand out of yours, as you stroke it idly, like one might to soothe a nervous child. There, there. Daddy’s got you.
You keep coming back to the photos. The ones on your phone and the ones in your pocket. You ignore the messages, all of them, and you stare at these photos, transfixed. Working.
It’s so simple, when it comes to you.
Photostrips, cut down to three photos each. The E’s on the wall, shaped like threes. The three stab wounds...
The motherfucker didn’t even try to hide it.
Your body is covered in frost, but there is a fire inside you now, growing hotter and hotter. It’s sweltering, it’s suffocating, and it’s pressurized, ready to be unleashed.
63 hours after her death, you take Aradia to the interrogation room. You strip her down, and yourself as well, and with the hose used to clean away the blood from the cement, you do just that. Scrub the both of you down. She deserves better than to stay grimy, bloody, covered in shark piss. And you?
You wanna look your best when you head outside, to tear this world apart.
The party at headquarters has been going full swing for several hours now. It’s a pleasant scene, a fun level of intensity somewhere just shy of out-and-out raucousness that brings a smile to your famously stony face. The food is overflowing from the kitchen, and you’ve personally seen to it t...
In which Diamonds Droog gets a text message from his daughter, Aradia Megido.
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