75 pages O_O thats longer then my own fursona story which is now 49 pages long. Not often I hear that but if it becomes a book consider it part of my collection.
Right now your story is annoying as hell, having to wait for the next installment is like waiting week to week for new episodes of your favorite shows
Chapter 3 - Damned if you don't
He rocked back and forth as the police car charioted him torwards his fate, it had only been a week since he learned of her disappearance. It was the most miserable week he had known up until this point, the blades of realization stabbing at him each passing day when she didn't turn up. Though the sun shone brightly the world seemed pitch black, flavors did not exist and the birds failed to produce song. He felt as if he had cotton in his ears when the police officer ordered him out of the car, then chains on his legs paling in comparison to the bonds of love lost. It was a mere blink of an eye before the gavel slammed down, condemning him. A mere breathe had had been loosed before the cage closed shut, trapping him. But a eternity would pass before the realization would free him from his sorrowful and living nightmare.
"Why god? Why did you not take me instead? Why take the angel that gave nothing but light and hope? Your own sun that day on the beach fell beyond the horizon, ashamed of its lack of luster and brightness in her presance." he said to himself angrily, baring his own hands like claws before him as he sank to his knees.
A voice behid interupted him and a cold hand grabbed his shoulder. "Shut up you fool, you will get yours soon enough boy." The inmate proclaimed as he made kissing motions with his lips. "Let me guess" he continued in a hostile and provocative tone."You didnt do it." A laugh rang from a unkempt and rough face, all of it was as needles assaulting his eardrums. The massive frame of this inmate was intimidating as a charging rhino, and his voice was deep and commanding. He was sure whatever he did had to be brutally sick and twisted. "Face it boy you took her life didn't you? You tore the life from her very flesh with your bare hands. You probably even had your way with the little wench" the prisoner, known as 709 practically yelled in his face.
Overcome with anger he charged 709, a blind fury fueled by what little remained of his heart. He punched and kicked but it was of little use, the larger inmate seemed invulnerable. The punches were stopped as if hitting a concrete wall and his kicks only found stone. "Ah a fighter" 709 laughed as he struck him down with a single and unbelievably forceful blow. "Welcome to the block meat, we are gonna be the best of friends aren't we" he welcomed as he slammed the broken ones head into the ground repeatedly till the guards shown up.
Three weeks went by in another blink of his eyes, the amount of stitches usually reserved for a article of clothing sewn into his head. Despite the beating and all the horrors of his current life, no matter the yells of taunting or the blames of those who call him guilty all he could think of was her. "Ah her beautiful face, and her wonderful laugh" he thought to himself. He thought of that moment on the boardwalk, and suddenly the room melted away, the crimson skies of a epic sunset in the background set the scene. He saw her face looking at him, wind blowing through her hair causing it to dance to the tune of the waves crashing upon the shore. Words could not find his lips, and his arms could not move. Suddenly she seemed to be pulled away and the crimson skies turned a shade of blood. "Mr Merk, snap out of it. Mr Merk! Can you hear me!" he heard a voice calling, appearing to come out of her mouth as she drifted away.
Suddenly he found himself back in the infirmary at the prison, the wonderous visage replaced by foreboding, blackened walls and metal instruments. A tear krept down his cheek as his eyes found their way to the doctor. "Aside from headaches you should be fine to return to your sentence" the doctor said coldly, knowing only torment awaited the prisoner. Why should he feel any pity, he was suspected of kidnapping and possibly even murder. he lazily got of the table and made his way back to his cell under the chained escort of a few guards. It was akin to a dog, broken and beaten whimpering at the call of its master, faithful yet knowing the fist would come again to great him. Prisoner 709, the harbinger of reality and misery. There would be no happy endings for him.
Months passed like raindrops, each pounding a dreadful rythem into mud and grime that was his life. One week he dodged death at the hands of one gang, another week he was forcively loved by a anxious and heartless criminal of multiple convictions. What could they possibly care about, they were going to die in there and as far as they were concerned he would join them. What more could you take from a man when his body was broken and his soul torn asunder. When his greatest pride and his greatest joy were stolen away in a way he had no control over. It was the unknown reality of it that killed him, who had taken her and what happened? "Is she still alive?" he thought curled up in his bunk. "If she is I hope she has managed to find help and maybe even return to happiness" All he wanted was for her to smile, and be happy thats all he ever wanted.
Two more years had passed away, he had become a forgotten note in history class and a statisical imprint on a prison logbook. He was no more of a man then a hollow shell, a zombie like look on his face as he sat in a chair in the lounge. He had to pull a few prideless strings to get here before he was now able to read and watch TV. Books hardly soothed him and the words inside seemed hollow, a fictional love story of a guy pining for a womans love. "Cry me a river" he said softly to himself. A fellow prisoner made his way past and turned on the TV to the news, but it didn't phased him. That was until he heard a familiar name on the news.
"Tonight on the six o'clock news, a light on the tragedy nearly three years ago when a young virginian girl went missing. Amy Marlands body was found late last night washed ashore the coastline of Myrtle Beach in South Carolina. Her body was badly decomposed and forensics say she was dead for at least three weeks..." the reporter on the TV announced. He was overcome by a burst of despair and sorrow, the first emotion he had felt in a long time. No tears could fall down his cheeks anymore, he didnt have the strength to cry. "She suffered for that long..." he said to himself, placing the blame all on his actions as he burst out of the chair and started to thrash about. "If I didn't have that dang crush this might of never happened. Its all my fault!" he screamed like a raving loonatic.
A bunch of guards rush in to quell the situation, aside him a few other inmates suffering from herd mentality throwing stuff around and causing a fuss. "No! I wont go, I did this to her! Let go of me!" he yelled panicing and under extreme duress. The world around him seemed to move at a slow pace as if it was a movie stuck on slo mo. Not ten feet away a guard hit a prisoner with the handle of a pistol. To the side Another stood atop a table shaking his fists in the air. None of the carnage averted his eyes from the TV were his love's face resided. "....She was 26 and will be missed" the reporter added like some ironic insult to injury. Through the slowed time flux of massive adrenaline rushes, he caught glimpse of a unguarded pistol in its holster as the cop tried to subdue one of the prisoners.
In a act of almost supernatural strength, he broke free of two guard's grasp and bolted for the gun. "This is my only chance to make things right!" he yelled, his mind so lost to fury he wasn't sure if he thought it or said it but he didn't care. He grabbed a gun as a tear managed to finally break loose as his hand slipped around the pistol pulling it free. time that ran slowly nearly stopped and he put the pistol to his head. "By my sacrifice may she rest in peace!" he yelled as he pulled the trigger, the click of the hammer singing the only song he had the heart left to hear.
His eyes awoke, the wind was blowing and he found himself on a familiar boardwalk. The seagulls where flying and cawing , drowning out the distant sounds of chatter near a ferris wheel. He turned his head and there she was, smiling at him, talking about her crazy flight to the airport. He smiled back and took her hand as they made their way down the boardwalk. The serenity was overwhelming he almost wondered if it were true, but the question eluded him as he simply didn't care. She smiled at him and hit him on the arm, "Snap out of it, this is the good part." she insisted. He smiled back and wrapped his arm around her neck as they walked off, in true peace.
Back in the prison a ackward silence had befallen the room. How could this prisoner how just claimed his own life have a smile on his face. He was truly as peace now, free from the pains of love sickness but now enraveled by loves true grace. As he had asked for she was able to rest in peace, with him. He had never made his name in history, never set the world a flame with wonderous deeds. If they had only known the length of the road of loyalty and friendship he had traveled, they'd of thought him to be a wonderful nobody. But as his soul traversed the infinite void of the afterlife with his love at his side, he truly was a somebody.
The end
