Helpless

The hurricane was drawn forth from her lips through a shade of rain, a torrent unleashed from the cyclone within her eye. That mad, dazzling green whirlwind cast forth the storm of tears from an otherworldly realm, a realm where rain conquered all. Rain conquers joy, rain conquers feeling, rain conquers life and death. Rain numbs and kills and dampens and drowns.

She conquered Jack as her eyes rained.

"Jack...I don't love you anymore."

Her rain numbed Jack's smile, the grin pasted onto his face as if painted. Emotion fled from his eyes, two hollow grey pupils, dissipating with the howl of the wind unto a world unkind.

Sanity fled with it.

The world blurred. Marie became its fulcrum, the weight of eternity resting upon her pretty little head. So fragile, so gentle, so utterly puny and helpless, and yet all of everything lie her burden. Colors blended and clashed, the world fading and expanding, chaos loose from every corner where it had lurked, hidden for all-time and time again.

Jack's mind was empty as his eyes but for one thought.

Someone really ought to clean this mess up.

Havoc became the world for the brief moment in which the world remained in existence, and then all that remained was Jack. Some wandering, utterly lonely, helpless stranger against a world unknown now forever lost in the realm of nothingness, of insanity.

Helplessness, after all, is the conquering force. Helplessness steals away the minds and souls and hearts of all, eventually, and helplessness succumbs only to death, to abandonment of existence. Helplessness robs a man of his world, leaves him stranded in the dark, interminable void, nameless, fateless, without hope, and thus without purpose, without reason to travel onward. And ultimately he is passed on into death.

Even rain doth helplessness conquer, for when helplessness strikes the storm, the rain hath no choice but to fall to the earth where the conqueror be conquered by man.

Life is a circle.

Jack had left that circle. He'd always been loosely tied to the circle to begin with, his thread that connected him worn and eaten away by the ever-hungry helplessness, that beast of the years. Love had been the thread that tied his thread to the circle, and he felt a child, orphaned, his innocence renewed, the only source of light against that black forever trapped behind his eyes.

He blinked.

"What?"

Her helpless cry had become a sob, desperate and alone, weary. Jack felt so empty inside all of a sudden, felt the emptiness in between his arms, in his lips, in Marie, in everything. He longed to fill the empty space up with love, to shine light unto the darkness that clouded of the minds who could not see.

Jack saw now.

"I'm going to fill you up, Marie."

"Jack, I don't--I don't love... I can't...I'm sorry, Jack--Oh God, I don't love you Jack..."

"I'm going to fill you up until you're all chock full, Marie."

Horrid, beautiful shrieks of angels flew forth from Marie's pale, trembling lips. All Jack wanted to do was taste them, kiss her all better. Just like a booboo.

"I miss you, Marie. Won't you let me fill you up?"

Rain fell from his eyes too, now. His smile remained painted, dried up upon his mouth, lifeless and hollow.

"Jack, you--"

"The world's so empty. Will you fill it up with me?"

She had fallen to her knees now, no match for the conqueror.

His grip on the knife tightened merrily.

"Fill up the world with me, Marie."

Laughter emerged from his taut lips as he set to work really filling up the place.

That was disturbing. I can't help but think if this is a backstory for the Joker. In the Burton Movies, his real name was Jack Napier. 8.95/10. I kinda liked it.

This is more like the Joker in the Nolan films.

Lol, RM, this was kinda weird. Yet still, it's weird how it kinda fits.

Darn it RM. How am I supposed to review you, if there is not a single thing that I could point at and triumphantly scream, 'HA! I KNEW YOU'D MAKE A MISTAKE SOMEDAY!'

Well, that was what I initially thought and then I saw this.

Rising Moon wrote:Jack's mind was empty as his eyes but for one thought.

Someone really ought to clean this mess up.

Okay dude, just no. You know me, I'm the cynical writer, who uses more dry humor in his writing than he's actually got in real life, so I'd probably like this line - if it was placed well. The sentence looks dropped randomly. For me, it just don't suit the situation. You could say something like that if, say, he was looking on a battlefield. Despite how mad as he was at the time, it simply don't seem to work. Plus, it falls quite far away out of your style here.

Rising Moon wrote:Havoc became the world for the brief moment in which the world remained in existence, and then all that remained was Jack. Some wandering, utterly lonely, helpless stranger against a world unknown now forever lost in the realm of nothingness, of insanity.

Helplessness, after all, is the conquering force. Helplessness steals away the minds and souls and hearts of all, eventually, and helplessness succumbs only to death, to abandonment of existence. Helplessness robs a man of his world, leaves him stranded in the dark, interminable void, nameless, fateless, without hope, and thus without purpose, without reason to travel onward. And ultimately he is passed on into death.

Even rain doth helplessness conquer, for when helplessness strikes the storm, the rain hath no choice but to fall to the earth where the conqueror be conquered by man.

Life is a circle.

Okay, this, dude, is amazing. I love the way you foray into the deep emotions and thoughts that even this madman has. Good work.

Rising Moon wrote:His grip on the knife tightened merrily.

"Fill up the world with me, Marie."

Laughter emerged from his taut lips as he set to work really filling up the place.

Good lord, disturbing as heck, this story of yours. Which is a job well done, because it's the point, it is, that's how I interpret it anyway. Look, RM, you can stop asking me to review your stories, it's the same thing all over again, I can't bear to review because there's nothing to properly review and criticize. Keep up the damned good work, RM.