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ddd_news2010-08-03 08:27 pm
tripled_mods) wrote in ddd_news2010-08-03 08:27 pmAPPLICATIONS -- 2010; 001
THIS APPLICATIONS POST IS CLOSED. Please direct your attention to the new one here!
tripled_mods) wrote in ddd_news2010-08-03 08:27 pm
Adam Monroe || Heroes || 5/5!
It's been weeks, and he can't count the number of times he's died. All false promises; each one maddening him further. A torture so acute he can feel its claws deep in him at every time of day. Not that he knows what time of day it is.
His legs have long gone numb, atrophying from their immobilization, and Adam's given up on trying to move them - it only makes the pain worse when he does. He prays to every god he can think of to take his life away, to overlook the centuries of evil and have mercy on his soul. He is unsurprised that none of them answer his desperate call.
He's almost impressed by Hiro's cruelty, and he knows his timing is inopportune, but 400 years has certainly given Hiro a certain fire he didn't have before. Or perhaps, Adam muses, it was murdering his father that changed him. Poetic justice, in his eyes. Adam became a villain because Hiro stole what he loved most, and now HIro could feel the same pain. It was the only thing that could give him comfort in his infinite confinement.
Adam isn't sure anymore, the difference between waking up and resurrection. They both bring sharp pain from trying to breathe stale air long recycled. But this morning is different; this morning he will be free.
"My wife will come for me..." he murmurs, delirious in his endless loop of death and lack of oxygen. Surely she would find him, and love him, as none of the others had.
It is his fate to be rescued, he knows with unwavering certainty, and it's only as he breaks through his reverie that the pain starts. His hands are raw and freely bleeding as he claws at the lid of his casket. He feels like a man possessed, incapable of holding himself back or changing his own course.
Surely he was not strong enough to dig out six feet of compressed Earth over his head, but could he not heal from anything? He wasn't thinking anymore, adrenaline indistinguishable from intent, and as his fingers felt the cool breeze and open air of the graveyard above he could not be stopped. He would walk free again.
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