In The Dark Of Day

doomed and blessed

There was something inside and he could see it. He could feel it, and he could see. The Hive. The aliens. It was beautiful. It was wonderful. It was everything and nothing. Darkness and light. Beauty and ugliness. It was his and no one's.

He wouldn't be alone, not anymore. Wouldn't be alone, inside and out. Together entwined. With this, with them, with nothing. With everything. It was wonderful. It was beautiful.

It was ugly. Hate. Nothing. Pain. He couldn't stand it. He wanted out. He wanted out. He wanted OUT.

Bliss. Love. There was no fear. No hate. No darkness. No pain.

There really wasn't anything.

He could see. He could see everything.

He couldn't see a damned thing. He was blind and trapped and buried and hollow and it hurt. He wanted out he wanted help. He needed help. He needed out. He needed Bach. Loengard. Stuart. Halligan, for god's sake help

There was light and sun.

The world was living. His world.

His new world. A world of chaos, a world of calm.

A world of polarization.

Nothing and something and everything, and he wanted to share it with everyone.

He wanted to save everyone. Wanted to die. Wanted to kill.

He wanted to feel everyone, be with everyone. He wanted everything and nothing and love and chaos and he couldn't

couldn't

couldn't

wouldn't

couldn't stand it.

It was awful and wonderful. Terrible and amazing. Beautiful and ugly. Hateful and hurtful and loving and amazing.

No one would save him. No one would save them. They were as doomed as the grays, he was as doomed as Kim Sayers. As doomed as that damned child of hers.

Doomed and blessed and he couldn't-