Hiya folks! Just telling ya that I have no permission to write anything belonging to
Neil Gaiman and DC comics and Avon books and Vertigo and whoever, so don’t sue me
because I’m doing this out of my love for the comic book, and not to help feed your fat
paychecks due to a law suit. Hehe....sorry, had to get that out of me. Okay, so please
EMAIL ME!!!! or write in the suggestions box as to what you think. That’s all. Bu-bye!
* * *
am was. are leaves few this. is these a or
scratchily over which of earth dragged once
-ful leaf. & were who skies clutch an of poor
how colding hereless. air theres what immense
live without every dancing. singless on
-ly a child's eyes float silently down
more than two those that and that noing our
gone snow gone
yours mine
. We're
alive and shall be:cities may overflow(am
was)assassinating whole grassblades,five
ideas can swallow a man;three words im
-prison a woman for all her now:but we've
such freedom such intense digestion so
much greenness only dying makes us grow
- e. e. cummings
* * *
The realm of Despair was a gray and lifeless void, filled with mist and windows.
Each window held a figure inside, each figure doing something entirely different from
the next window. One could be shaving, another skinning a carcass, another could be
singing a choir hymn to one of the many gods still worshipped. Man, woman, god or
child, they all held one single thing in common which united their images together;
Despair.
She stood there, staring at a window with more interest then her rats could bare.
They gnawed at her flesh, pink and pulpy, till they reached the bone, squeaking and
chewing to attract her interest. She didn’t even swat them off. Not even when a large,
gray female climbed to her hair and began sever her earlobe did she glance away. The
pets of Despair couldn’t compare to the dutiful pleasure it gave their mistress to watch
her victims in action. This day, her attention was aroused in such a way that no pain, no
matter how wonderfully sharp, could turn her away. In the mirrored window of a
despairing soul, was her long-lost brother.
He stood next to Gein Fiscle (A cosmetics salesman who had worked at one of the
many department stores in the western United States) who had just witnessed his
brother’s suicide. His brother had blamed him for ruining his life, for stealing his only
love (A hypochondriac waitress who took more trips to the hospital then visit her mother.
She was also in Despair’s realm.) and for causing him to loose his job. No one was
certain as to how Gein had caused this last setback, but his brother blamed him for it
anyways. So did Gein.
At that moment, he was sitting on a park bench in Manhattan feeding pigeons.
Destruction sat on his right, beardless, listening to the man as he recounted his sad tale of
his brother’s death. Despair, although it was beneath her, listened in.
“....And I have no idea why she didn’t tell him! It wasn’t my fault. It just sorta...I
dunno...happened. She went over to me one day and told me exactly what positions she
could twist herself into and I just....well....I was curious. She told me that she told him,
so I thought that he wouldn’t mind if we borrowed his apartment for a little while....I...”
Gein stumbled off, his hands covering his face, perhaps to shield him from the world.
Destruction nodded thoughtfully to himself, and clapped the man on the shoulder.
“You know, I was rather in a similar situation a while back. It was a bit
upsetting, but I knew it would have happened eventually. I’d warned him earlier about it.
Sadly, I don’t think he quite understood at the time, or perhaps just ignored the advice.
That’s my brother, all right, famous for overlooking good advice. He was a fool, but he
was still my brother, all the same.” Destruction stopped for a second, as a dog barked
somewhere over on the other side of the park. Gein got out of his stupor for a second and
glanced at his companion.
“Your bro killed himself also? What’d you do, steal his broad or something?”
Gein grimaced as he took out his wallet, and opened it to a picture of a shapely,
well-endowed woman in her forties. His hand shook as he pointed to her, and small tears
fell from his eyes.
“I stole my bro’s broad. He blamed me for the job, too. Didn’t have nothing to
do with that. These things happen, you know. These things happen. She...well, Glenda
was one hell of a lay, but she wasn’t nothin’ in the brains department, if you know what
I’m sayin’. She didn’t know nothing about loyalty, either. She upped and left when she
heard the news, but not before blamin’ me for everything though.” He moved his hand to
rest on his meager hip, and the other waggled out in front, pointing at some unseen
wrongdoer. His voice became higher and scratchier to imitate his faithless paramour.
“Now, Gein, don’t you go putting the blame on me! He’s your brother, or was your
brother. How was I s’posed to know that he didn’t get my message on the ans’ring
machine? It’s all your fault for wantin’ to use his apartment...” He sighed and began to
massage his temples. “You know, maybe it was my fault. After all, she wasn’t even that
pretty. Just, you know, something to warm your hands on on a cold night, you know?
She...she...” Gein put his head in his hands and began to cry.
Despair watched with interest. Her brother was never one to deal well with
situations like these. The last she’d seen him advise on matters of death had been in her
realm for a thousand years before he finally abandoned his realm. Ahh, but that was
another matter. She pondered if she should show herself now, or later. Destruction
began to speak.
“My brother, Morpheus was one of his names, amongst others. He was never
really that easy to warm up to. I liked him all the same, but he just never became used to
being around other people. He was obsessed with responsibility. He used to claim that
he...” Destruction lowered his voice to pantomime Dream’s. “ ‘I forget nothing my
brother. I am, after all, an emperor, am I not?’” He gave a sideways glance to Gein, who
hadn’t moved. “He should have followed me. He should have....but he didn’t, now did
he? He went his own way. He followed his own, twisting path of Destiny’s garden and I
never could get him to step in the right direction. He was a strange one.”
Gein didn’t raise his head, but Despair heard his question, anyway. “So what did
he do? Why did he do it?”. Destruction thought for a second, pondering. He still
looked as handsome as he did. He still emanated satisfaction and well-being. Despair
felt a wave of pain build up inside her, threatening to tear her apart. Without taking her
eyes off the window, she placed a small hook onto her lower lip and tugged. Better.
Destruction was talking.
“Well, I guess that he hadn’t anything left. His place was always, despite an
occasional inconvenience or two, doing well. His few friends, his very few friends,
weren’t enough to make him feel well again. He hadn’t anything left to live for.”
Destruction stopped talking, struck once again by the same question that had been
plaguing him ever sense he’d learned of Dream’s death. He sat there pondering that if
he hadn’t abandoned his realm, would the same fate have happened to him? He seemed
to shake himself out if it, and noticed that the mortal was looking at him.
Gein gazed at Destruction sympathetically. “So he off’d himself because he had
nothing? That’s dumb. My brother didn’t have anything. Now, he had a reason.”
Destruction shook his head. “No, something happened in the end that convinced
him to end it all. This woman was prompted into believing that he had taken her child,
so she recruited help to convince him to kill himself. He found the babe, but it wasn’t in
time to stop them and he called my sister over and, well, he died.”
Gein frowned. “Why do they always do it in front of a sibling? Is it a rule or
somethin’? He clicked his tongue. “Johnny, that’s my brother’s name, by the way, he
sent this letter to me just before he died. I got it the day of the funeral. He told me that
he hated me, and that it should have been me his gun was pointin’ at, and not him. He
told me that he wanted to see me die. That I deserved to.
“That hit me pretty hard at first, an’ all. Then I got to thinkin’ that maybe Johnny
was right. Maybe I did deserve it. So right after that, I went and quite my job and sold
all of my things. He can’t use his, I thought. Why should I use mine? So I left and
started walkin’, and I thought that I’d feel better. After all, I’m in worse shape then he
was. An’ he’s dead! My mother still is lookin’ for me, but I don’t deserve to see her.
When I do die, I’m gonna go to hell. If I deserve anything, I deserve that.”
Despair nodded in satisfaction. She’d done her job well.
Destruction, however, looked both sympathetic and disgusted. A dog barked
again in the background, making him look around uneasily. Destruction got up and took
Gein by the hand. He whispered something in his ear, something long, then began to turn
away. He paused and turned back.
“Oh, and Gein?”
Gein looked back at the man and waited.
“You never have to do anything you don’t want to do. You never have to stay
anywhere you don’t want to stay, and lastly, you never can be what you originally were,
or at least not forever. Everyone changes, whether they want to or not.” Destruction
tipped his hat at Gein and left him, standing there.
Despair also stood in her realm, a million thoughts going through her head, a
million memories being replayed. Her brother was within her reach, but she had no wish
to contact him. After longing and waiting and dreaming, he finally came, and now she
didn’t rush to see him now that she could. Desire would be proud. A wave of....
‘feelings’ flooded her, and Despair felt something for the first time in 900 years. Without
pausing to think, without bothering to wonder what could happen due to her actions,
Despair drew back a gray, dun-colored hand and shattered the window that floated in her
dark realm.
Somewhere in Manhattan, next to a screaming woman and a hot-dog stand, Gein
Fiscle smiled.
