"X" - 04/18/10

The small office was dark, the only light being a dim glow coming from an old lamp hanging above a desk. The room was still, silent, dead. A figure sitting in the chair reached forward, his arms coming into the light. He set two objects upon the desk; the bottle of whiskey making a sloshing sound as its half-drank contents mixed around from the disturbance, the other settling down with a heavy metallic thud.

“For a long time now, I’ve been fighting against you.”

The voice drifted from the darkness; strained, slowed and a bit slurred.

“Like a fool I thought I could win. Thought I had a chance.”

The voice was calm.

“I’ve fought for too long. I am tired.”

The defeat in the voice was absolute.

“You…”

The figure leaned forward, his face coming into the light now. Raphael looked exhausted, utterly drained. He hadn’t slept for days, unable to keep his thoughts off of what she had said. What she had done.

“I never thought you’d sink this low…”

His tone was weary, his words bitter.

“…to take from me the only thing I had left. The only thing I loved anymore.”

He fell back into the chair again, the darkness once again covering his face.

“You bastard. After all I’ve done for you. All I’ve accomplished in your name. Did it all mean nothing? Was I playing the fool in your grand opera?”

Raphael’s hand reached out and grabbed the bottle again, lifting it up into the darkness. When it reappeared moments later, it was only a quarter full.

“After I finish this, I’ll have nothing left.”

His hand lay motionless for a second before seizing into a fist. Suddenly he let out a laugh.

“It’s been a long journey. I appreciate you dragging it out for me. I appreciate driving the nails in slow.”
A moment of silence.

“So much wasted time. Running errands for the unappreciative.”

Suddenly his voice drifted through a range of emotions. Anger.

“So much I’ve done for her, so many sacrifices….”

Hopelessness.

“…I can’t help but think that if I had done just one thing differently…”

Mirth.

“…things could have been so much better…”

Sorrow.

“…why? Why? Why why why why why?”

Resignation.

“….”

Again the bottle is picked up and disappears into the darkness, returning at only an eighth full.

“I was ready to follow her to the depths of hell itself. I would have done anything for her. I gave her my absolute loyalty. Above myself, above the Empire, above you…”

Raphael lets out a small, weak laugh.

“Perhaps that was the problem.”

He is silent for a moment.

“Complete, utter loyalty. And what do I get? I have it thrown back in my face. For my hard work and selflessness I get…I get…news of another. To share herself with such a beast…”

His voice goes quiet as he can’t even process the thought, his mind spinning in circles trying to make sense of everything. Finally a soft, desperate whisper emanates from the darkness.

“How could you?”
The bottle is picked up once more, but this time it returns with the rest of him. Leaning forward he examines the other object on the table as he holds the bottle with his left.

“Congratulations, God.”

He picks up the hunk of metal, the grip fitting into his hand comfortably. He hefts it a few times, feeling its weight.

“You’ve won.”

Raphael set the bottle of whiskey back down on the table and leaned back, once again disappearing into the darkness, taking the pistol with him.

--

This was a possible 10th Confession for my main IC blog Confessions of a Saint, and was written before, based on some assumptions I had and some ideas that sprang from that. However, I decided that I didn't really like it too much and instead just kept it on file, writing what would become #10 around 2 weeks later.