Chapter Text
It’s a weird feeling, going your whole existence waiting for the other shoe to drop.
You know what’s really funny about all this? He has no idea why he’s accepting this so readily. He never once thought something like this could happen, an angel like him dying? Yeah, right. Heaven is supposed to be an eternal reward, dumbass. How can you enjoy an eternal reward when you fucking croak halfway through it like a little hoe? It simply is a stupid concept. Where the hell would you go, anyway? Double heaven? That one fucking windows desktop background? A place of utter oblivion where the concept of oneself simply does not exist, and you float around until the heat death of the universe unable to have a conscious thought ever again?
That last one sounds tough as fuck, he likes it. He just hopes that not being able to have thoughts includes those of loneliness, being alone and knowing it sucks major ass.
Somehow, He knew this would happen.
Adam chokes a little, a salty sweet taste invades his tongue. He shouldn’t have had that plate of sweet barbecue before coming here. Who does that before going into battle? ‘I do that, bitch!’ is what he would say, but he’s choking right now so he can’t say that. Actually, that’s not sweet barbecue, that’s his own fucking blood. He’s choking on his own fucking blood. Why is he doing that?! Is he stupid?!
He got stabbed. He got stabbed a stupid number of times. What is a stupid number of stabs? Probably like fifteen or something. He got stabbed fifteen times.
The searing pain has already faded away, but the deranged laughter of whatever fucking hell creature that crawled on his back and treated his abdomen like a piece of meat that needed tenderizing hasn’t fully gone away. Or maybe it’s tinnitus or whatever fucking ear condition lute swore he would get from blasting his music way too loud.
He could barely comprehend his surroundings, his ears were ringing, and yet his thoughts that were running at a bajillion miles an hour seem somewhat clear to him. Is his life flashing before his eyes? He hopes not. His life was long as fuck, he doesn’t want to sit through that shit again. He tries to focus a tad and finds that his thoughts seem to be more about the gentler moments of his life, resting beneath the gentle sun rays, the ones that had a fuzzy warmth and never burned you no matter how much you stayed under them, blonde hair, blue eyes, the softness of another person’s body, the smell of wet earth, a warm meal after a long day in the wild, a small hand clutching his own, the soft cry of a child that let you know they were alive and here.
Somehow, He knew this would happen.
Everything is starting to become hazy now; his breathing is becoming shallower. He feels his blood gushing out of his body, the warmth of it strangely comforting. His face is scraping against the dirt of this hell-hole, it’s itchy, but he finds himself completely unbothered. A soft wave of acceptance washes over his body. Finally, it’s over.
What is over? No idea, but it’s over and that’s all that matters.
He does kind of want to move his body to a more respectable position, his body is probably going to be devoured by those cannibals like his poor girls were, it doesn’t matter what position those sick fucks find his body in, they were going to violate his corpse anyway. But his pride does kind of ache that those bastards are going to find him with a face full of dirt. His thoughts are cut off by his body being moved.
Someone grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him over. Through his shaky vision he tries to make out their features, the silver hair, and the sharp, pretty eyes give it away quickly, even though she and her sisters look so similar, Adam could still recognize her anyway.
It’s Lute. His top girl.
She’s shouting something, tears are running down her face. It shocks him a bit, a hard bitch like Lute shouldn’t be crying about anything, but she’s crying over him. He wants to reach over and wipe her tears, tell her it ain’t worth it, tell her that she’ll look so fucking cool with a synthetic arm, thank her for never leaving his side, tell her to get the fuck out of here before they get her too, tell to take care of Abel. Fuck, what would Abel do with him gone?
Unfortunately, there wasn’t any type of energy in Adam to spend anymore, so all he does is move the muscles on his face. He smiles at her, and he hopes it’s enough to tell her all he wants to say.
Adam’s eyes close, he feels the darkness take him in, softly cradling him. About fucking time.
He never really thought about it, the possibility of utter annihilation. that even eternal reward has an end, and yet it feels so expected. Maybe the fact that this wouldn’t be the first time he was handed the world, only to have it ripped out of his hand, got him feeling that whatever is considered impossible is actually inevitable. That even though he never once thought of this, somehow, he knew it would happen. That he was waiting for the day it would all finally be over, that he’ll see the day the other shoe would drop, and it did, it dropped.
Adam breathes his last breath, it feels practiced.
It really is a weird feeling.