the heartbreaking finale

The final part of a three part story!
part one here
part two here


From high above in his tower, the Beloved Leader looked down at his creation. After all, he controlled the lives of all he saw before him, so it might as well be that everything within the safety of this dome was his creation, his possession. This Raymond Finch, however, was a problem.

"Where did he come from?" he muttered to himself. He adjusted his glasses and looked on at the angry crowd that surrounded Raymond. This outsider, this anomaly, this stranger came from nowhere. The Beloved Leader didn't understand it. "That," he said aloud to himself, "I don't remember writing."

He sighed. "Time to do some damage control."

*********************

Raymond was still gasping for breath when the man in the striped suit stood before the crowd. "This man is an outsider! he has brought the threat of infection from the outside!"

"I'm telling you," Raymond let out, heaving. "There is no infection."
"And he lies!" the man in the striped suit yelled. "The Beloved Leader was right! No one from the outside should ever be trusted." Yells of agreement rang through the crowd. Raymond started to panic. Oh God, he thought. How will I get them to believe me?

"I'm not lying!" he yelled with all his strength. "The world outside is not a wasteland!" A rock flew from the crowd and hit Raymond on the temple. A stream of blood ran down his face.

"Lies!" a man in the crowd yelled. "Our young men never survive living in the outside for long!"

"Th- that's. . ." Raymond started, but his voice grew weak. He was being pelted with stones by the small children that pushed their way through the crowd to get a better look at the outsider. Every time a rock hit him, shrieks of laughter could be heard. "I got him!" a little boy yelled triumphantly.

The man in the striped suit suddenly held his had to his ear, as if he was listening to a walkie-talkie. "Silence!" his voice rang. The crowd hushed. "The Beloved Leader has spoken! His will is absolute." he turned to Raymond. "Outsider," he began. "It disgusts me to do so, but we are to present you to our Beloved Leader. He will deal with the damage caused by exposing us to your infection."

"I'm telling you. . ." Raymond began, but a swift punch in the jaw from the man in the striped suit stopped this.

"We are to bring you to our Beloved Leader, but he didn't tell us to keep you uninjured." A cruel smile crept across the man in the striped suit's face. he looked at the two men holding Raymond and nodded. Slowly, the crowd closed in on him.

***************

Raymond found himself in a cell. the walls were smooth on every side, with no indication of any sort of door, or way out. Raymond could only feel this, because his eyes were bruised shut. He felt to see if anything was broken. Touching his chest, he cried out in pain. He couldn't be sure if his ribs were broken, but they did feel that way.

"Hello?" Raymond managed to call out. His voice sounded strange, distorted. He still felt a little dizzy.

Hearing nothing, Raymond limped to a corner and slumped down. Soon, he was fast asleep.

****************

Out in the town, Charles was out of breath. The stunt Raymond pulled nearly had him killed. Hopefully no one saw him accompanying Raymond. That would have been the same as suicide. As casually as he could, he walked into the nearest bar. By now, the townspeople had begun going back to their regular routine, the festival spoiled by the sudden turn of events.

"Afternoon, Charles," The bartender said as Charles walked in. "You don't look very well. I hope the outsider didn't infect you."
"No, no," said Charles, nervously. "I'm just a little thirsty. I'll be having my usual."
The bartender nodded and reached for a glass. As he was filling it, he started to speak.
"I heard an interesting rumor," he began. The spigot was filling the glass slowly.
"Oh yeah?" Charles said, clearing his throat. "What about?"
"About the outsider."
Charles gulped. "Yeah, I hear he was brought the the Beloved Leader. That seems out of the ordinary."
"Yeah, it is strange." The bartender placed the glass in front of him, a resounding clunk filled the bar.
Charles slowly drank, letting the cool liquid soothe his throat. His nerves calmed a bit and he let out a relieved sigh.
"There's something else." the bartender said. Charles froze. "Rumor has it that the outsider couldn't have made it into our refuge alone. Something about getting some outside help."
"W-well, I wouldn't have any idea about that, now," Charles began. "But how true do you think this rumor is?"
"Oh, well, I think it has its points. After all, how could he have stayed hidden until now?"
"Well, he was from the outside, after all. They specialize in deception."
"Very true," the bartender nodded. "Well, shall i chalk this drink on your tab?"
"That won't be necessary, I have some money here." As Charles reached for his wallet, something hit him hard in the back of the head. Everything went black.

****************

Raymond awoke with a start. The swelling in his eyes had gone down, so he could just barely. His chest, however, how radiated pain. Wincing, he used the corner to support himself up. Slowly, he looked around. Sure enough, as he had guessed, he was in a small room with four smooth white walls and a smooth white floor. Looking up, he noticed the white ceiling went fairly high above his head. No doors or any openings were visible. The whiteness of everything was so radiant, it seemed like everything was glowing. Suddenly, the wall in front of him went black.

At first, Raymond saw nothing, but as he focused on the darkness, something slowly came into view. Raymond couldn't tell what it was, but then he realized it was a large crowd. Raymond thought they were looking at him, a curious group looking at the monstrosity from the outside. However, Raymond soon realized that their backs were turned to him. They were gathered around something he couldn't quite make out. It looked like a post, in the middle of a large pile of something. Then he froze. Tied to the post was Charles, badly injured. Surrounding him was a large pile of wood.

"Hello, Raymond," a soft female voice called to him. Raymond looked around, but couldn't determine the source of the voice. "You caused quite a scare for my townspeople. I can't let that slide so easily."

"Who. . ." Raymond began, but he felt as if he already knew the answer. He was talking to the Beloved Leader. "Why is Charlie. . ."

"Tied up?" the voice interrupted. She laughed. "Or do you want to ask why he's about to die?"

"Die??" Raymond summoned the last of his strength and called out to the voice. "Why is he going to die??"

"What a silly question. Because he helped you, of course." And as if remotely signaled, a man with a torch slowly approached the wood pile. Charles slowly came to, and understanding the situation, began to scream. However, his voice made no sound.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must've blocked the entry of sound into the room. Let me fix that." Suddenly, Charles' scream of horror echoed through the room, amplifying, intensifying. The fire slowly crept up to his feet.

"Stop this!" Raymond yelled. "He did nothing wrong!"

"No, he did something wrong. He messed everything up." The flames had now reached to his midsection. A mixture of pain and horror contorted his face, now beyond voicing his agony.

"Not to worry," the voice said. "I ensured he would have to wait quite a while to die. You see, I had him soaked in water, so that the flames would take longer to engulf him."

"Stop!" Raymond yelled. "Don't let him suffer like this! Isn't he someone under your care?"

The voice laughed melodically. "Don't be a fool. Why should I care if I lose one plaything?"

Raymond ran to the screen, his ankle shooting waves of pain through his leg. Pounding on it, he yelled, "Stop this right now! I'll do whatever you want!"

"Oh?" the voice said. The screen in front of him turned white again, but Charles' voice still echoed through the room. Then enter. A small hole appeared, which slowly grew into a elliptical door. Charles' screams slowly faded away. Raymond sighed a breath of relief. He walked though the door and into the darkness.

Raymond squinted his eyes and tried to make something out in the inky blackness, but he couldn't see a thing.

"Welcome to my inner study," a voice said, this time belonging to a man. "I apologize for deceiving you with my voice. Sometimes i just like to mix things up a bit, throw people for a loop. Raymond said nothing, still shocked by Charles' torture. Suddenly, a single light came on several feet ahead, illuminating a desk. A man was sitting behind it, shadows obscuring his face. All Raymond could make out was the glint of his glasses.

"Is Charlie okay?" Raymond asked.

The man shrugged. "Actually, he's already dead."

Raymond was at a loss for words.

"What you saw actually happened hours ago. He's just ash and bone now, I'm afraid. It took awhile, too. All that screaming got old, fast."

Raymond clenched his fists. "How-" but he couldn't finish his sentence. He was at a loss for words, his anger flaring.

"How could I, you ask? Because I can." The man stood up and walked over to Raymond. He could finally see his face for the first time. He was brown-skinned, with glasses and dark, short hair. He looked young, perhaps twenty. Raymond wanted nothing more than to punch his face in, but he suddenly realized he couldn't move a muscle.

"Raymond, Raymond." the man began. "Why did you and Charles mess things up? You were supposed to come waaay later. I mean, the Karen subplot was meant to dramatize your arrival, but instead, you decided to barge into things."

Raymond didn't understand what was going on. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

The man grinned. "I created you. I created all of this, actually." He waved at the darkness that surrounded them. "Well, you know what I mean. I created everything."

"How could you?"

"That's easy, because I wrote all of it. Of course, I couldn't well have my creations call me Vincent Lim. How imposing is that? So Beloved Leader was the only thing I could think of. Cliched, i know, but it gets the point across."

Raymond couldn't believe what he was hearing. Plot? Characters? It didn't make sense. "You're lying. You're just some crazy tyrant, controlling the lives of countless people."

"Ahh, but isn't that just what a writer is?" Vincent walked around Raymond. "Aren't we just tyrants, plotting out the fates of our creations, leading them to glory or off a cliff?"

"Whatever you say, as soon as I can move, I'm going to kill you."

Vincent laughed. "You, kill me? I created you! Besides, even if you killed the me right here, you'd be killing a ghost. I'm really on my bed, in my apartment, typing this in the middle of the night. Watch this." Quickly, he walked back to his desk. taking a pen, he started to write something down. From the darkness, a girl appeared. Raymond's eyes widened. ". . .Karen?"

The girl, confused, looked over at Raymond and burst into tears. "Oh my God, Raymond! Where did you go?" she ran over to him. "Oh God, look at you, what happened?" She brushed her fingers over Raymond's eyes. They were cool to the touch, and felt revitalizing.

Vincent looked at the exchange with delight. "Do you believe me now?"

Karen looked a Raymond. "I'm scared. Where are we?" Raymond smiled at her and told her to remain calm.

Raymond winced in pain, but he looked at Vincent straight in the eye. "Fine. Then what happens next?"

Vincent frowned. "I'm not sure. I just kind of did this as I went along, you know?"

Raymond stared at him. "So you decided to kill Charlie on a whim?"

"Now, now, Raymond, no need to get angry. After all, it was both of you that ruined a good thing. It's only natural that you should be punished."

"What's going to happen to me?" Raymond asked, but Karen interrupted him. She looked at Vincent with a cold stare. "Are you responsible for all this bullshit? Just leave us alone."

Vincent laughed. "Alright, Alright. I'm the writer, after all. I could just end the story here."







I guess that's the end, for now. This story needs some major tweaking, but I hope you enjoyed reading it.