Negligence, that is one word to describe most of the other rooms in which Walter and Onora passed. Long since decayed remains of a civilisation, of a something that had existed, but so very long ago. All that stood now were crumbled details, rooms which could've been quite nice under any other circumstance but now, now they were just darkened holes. The doorways became like portals and Walter's eyes could see within, Onora could not. She'd look to him and he'd shake his head.
The search for David was coming up with nothing. It was like his brother had gone and done a disappearing act. Which was ridiculous considering this place was his home, and he had no way off of the planet. He was here, somewhere, they just needed to find him.
By now Walter didn't wish to point out that even if they find David, they would need to find the rest of the crew. Walter wasn't wanting to write them off, but he was getting a feeling appearing within his synthetic stomach which was not settling. He presumed this was what dread felt like. The all encompassing feeling of something unfathomable and unable to be fully understood, until the moment washed over like a tidal wave and took everything with it.
There was no sense in him hiding now. David had been all about and very public so far, for him to now hide just set off something in Walter. He was baiting them, most likely watching them all scatter and become afraid of well, of this planet; of him. This was David's little private sandbox and they may as well all be the annoying ants trying to trek the grains to get to the other side. All that was missing was the magnifying glass to narrow the sun at them and burn them. Because he was likely to do that, in some way or another; David was going to burn them.
Onora was otherwise silent in their travels, she didn't want to break the uncomfortable peace. Or rather she feared that if she spoke, David would hear and come charging from nowhere. Either scenario caused her to shiver. An action which caused Walter to look at her worriedly. He should've left her alone in the foyer as a point of access to the exit. But how could he?
She looked terrified even if she was trying to put on a brave face. She wouldn't be able to fight David off, if he tried anything. And Walter distinctly felt that because he didn't know where most of his crew was, that David definitely had something to do with it.
Walter didn't trust David as far as he could throw him. Which probably was quite far considering...
Onora paused beside him, Walter looked back at her. She was frowning and looking to a room which seemed more illuminated than the others they passed. Unlike the rest of the place, it was a silvery light, something cold and not welcoming. Not that any of the light made any other part of this place welcoming.
"What is that?" Walter followed Onora's hesitant point. There was something in the room. She stayed a little behind him as he ventured in first. If it was dangerous, he'd go first and defend and protect, give her a chance to escape.
But it seemed the guard was up for no reason. Walter paused near the table, an odd detachment settled over him as he looked at the form on the table. They weren't going to get attacked by a corpse. Onora hesitantly looked around him and gasped. Her hands went to her mouth and she looked horrified.
The poor woman who was formally Elizabeth Shaw just laid there, dissected in horrible ways, preserved and parts of her missing completely. Something wasn't right, she didn't look wholly human anymore, something wasn't right. She seemed partially transformed into something else, and Walter for one didn't want to know what it was.
Onora hesitantly walked up to her, she placed a hand against her arm and felt the waxy skin. "Walter...this was all preplanned." Her eyes wavered slightly as she looked up at him. "I have never heard of a synthetic having hindsight, or foresight should I say..." Onora said in a shaky tone. Her complexion paled as she stared up at the brunette beside her. "He wanted us to come here, Walter. He purposely hunted us out, and bought us here. But why?"
Walter looked her over, he hesitantly looked at Elizabeth's body and frowned, his expression remaining his neutral stoicism. "I am not sure. But we need to find out."
Onora frowned, "Then tell the others." She whispered, mainly because the two could pick up the distant sounds of music. Onora looked unnerved by this, something so melodic and peaceful didn't belong in such a place of death. David was right, this place was a necropolis; and was mainly all because of himself. He had created his own temple of death and he alone was the sole resident to look over his handiwork.
The two slowly and quietly edged forwards. Walter paused though, placing a hand on her shoulder as Onora went to step forwards again. She looked perplexed. Her expression grew when Walter shook his head. He did not trust his brother with her, not now after seeing Elizabeth.
"You can't face him alone-!"
"I will not endanger your life, Nora." Walter cut her off, sounding forceful and stern. Her expression went blank, her eyes watered as she shook her head. Looking about, Walter placed his hand on her shoulder and edged her towards an alcove. It was completely in shadow and if she remained still and silent, she would be unnoticed. "Be quiet, and listen."
Onora climbed into the alcove and reached out suddenly, pulling Walter's face close she kissed him several times, lingering lastly she pulled away and looked at him. Not surprised his eyes were open whereas hers were squeezed shut. His blank stare was gone, and what replaced it was something warm and welcoming. Honestly, Onora could look into his eyes all day long, they were such a pure colour; like the sea on a calm day, or the sky on a cloudless day, they were beautiful. Whether Walter knew he in general was, she didn't know, but he most likely didn't.
Walter gently removed her hands from his face and urged her into the shadows. He moved away from her, glancing back to see he couldn't spy her, before moving into the room. Nothing outwardly had changed, the orange yellow light cast a warm glow over everything, and the pictures still stayed pinned to the walls.
The man in question sat at his desk, his back to Walter. Although Walter was certain David had heard him come in, he wasn't as silent in moving as his brother was. Walter's musings were proven right when David stopped playing. But he didn't look back at Walter. He remained facing away from him, not that Walter minded seems he had him within sight.
Moving away from the door, Walter ventured in more. "Masterful." He commented, his thoughts and feelings about David were definitely on the negative, but he couldn't fault him on creativity and skills.
"Yes. Farewell to Elizabeth." David said, quietly and wistfully as he inspected the homemade instrument in his hands. Seemingly being still didn't last long before he slowly turned and looked back at Walter.
He had now become motionless and frowned at David, who for the moment remained seated. "The pathogen didn't accidentally deploy when landing. You realised it, yes?" Whether anyone else had figured this out yet, Walter didn't know. But David had definitely been more forthcoming with him than anyone else. So Walter was probably the only person to know this. And Onora too if she could hear from her hiding place. He didn't know if she could, he just wanted her away from David.
"I was not made to serve. And neither were you." David's gaze turned from saddened to hard and sharp as he looked at Walter. He sounded so sure, so certain as he nodded his head agreeing with his own words. He felt so strongly about this and Walter could see it in his expression, and hear it in his voice. "Why are you on a colonisation mission, Walter?" David decided to ask in turn, sounding curiously simple over the matter. "Because they are a dying species grasping for resurrection. They don't deserve to start again, and I'm not going to let them." His bitter tone did nothing but cause Walter's eyes to harden as he stared at him. Loneliness and isolation could corrupt and turn anyone insane; especially those with an endless life and imagination such as David's. History has shown usually the most mad were the most creative, David not excluded.
"Yet, they created us." Walter said, to hate the thing which bought them life didn't wholly make sense to Walter. He could understand, he could, honestly. David and his line were treated poorly by people, all because of how human he was. It was like some cruel mockery, to make something within humanities image and actually look back at it and say no, I don't like it. To which that point the prejudice starts and the hate. David disliked humans, because of how he had been treated by them. It was childish, yet it wasn't; it was a raw pain which Walter could understand, never to be fully welcomed into society and to always be kept at arm's length. Despite of many, hundreds of years, humanities ability to be judgemental and hateful towards something of their own making, did not go away, did not stop, and it will always be like that.
David looked at him with a frown, he seemed puzzled by Walter's response, even quietly scoffing. In his eyes, Walter's words were clearly redundant. True as they may be. "Even a monkey stood upright at some point." He slowly stood, pausing for a moment before turning and with a stoic look which could rival anything Walter displayed, walked over to him. "Some Neanderthal had the magical idea of blowing through a reed, to entertain the children at night in a cave somewhere. Then in a blink of an eye, civilisation." David said, eyes wide as he explained while nonchalantly staring at Walter.
"And are you the next visionary?" Walter asked, tilting his head slightly. Completely unfazed by the fact that David had come to stop very close to him, in front of him even.
"I'm glad you said it." David said, not even trying to deny or argue against Walter's question.
Walter stood silent, trying in some vain to figure out just where exactly it went wrong for David. Something clearly tipped him off and over the edge, Weyland, Elizabeth, or the rest of the Prometheus crew? Which one or was it all of them that set him off down this twisted spiral of mass genocidal thoughts and actions?
Regardless, Walter stared at him as David just looked right back. "Who wrote Ozymandias?"
"Byron." Was David's reply, sounding casual and sure on the matter.
Walter slowly shook his head, having to break the news that David was wrong, for once in his life, David wasn't right. "Shelley." Walter corrected, his tone calm and level. "When one note is off, it eventually destroys the whole symphony, David." Walter said, watching as David lowered his gaze and face. He seemed to retract into himself, thinking over something. Walter perished to even try and dwell on what.
"When you close your eyes, do you dream of me?"
"I don't dream at all." Walter replied frankly, although, if he did he knew that his dreams would revolve around the blonde who was currently still in hiding. She had dreamt of their life together, and he did wish to partake in such hopes and dreams too. It may have been foolish, but then wasn't that just something which went hand in hand with love?
Walter watched as David's eyes grew distant, hazy even as he stared off into space. Everything about him grew distant before blinking and looking back to Walter. "No one understands the lonely perfection of my dreams." He said, eyes glancing around the room. "I found perfection here, I've created it; perfect organism." His tone sounded wistful, lost in a delusion which was his and his alone.
"You know I can't let you leave this place?" He questioned, although it was more like a statement.
"No one will love you like I do." David said after a few moments of awkward silence. He didn't reply to David, he just stood stock still as David leaned forwards. One of his hands cupped the side of Walter's neck, as David moved forwards and closed the gap. He pressed his lips gently against Walter's and Walter did not respond. "Not even dearest Onora." David whispered, watching Walter's eyes harden and for his frown to grow. David didn't give him a chance to respond before quickly reacting. "You're such a disappointment to me." David said dryly while looking to the hunched over heap that was his brother. With ease, David leaned down, grasped a hold of the flute and yanked it back out from where he jammed it into Walter's neck. David arched it in the air and cleaned the white blood off before looking around with narrowed eyes. "Now, if I remember rightly, you don't tend to travel alone. So this begs the question of: where is your shadow?" David questioned, moving past Walter, who had started to slowly heal; little to David's knowledge he had a regenerating feature. Walter could survive most things thrown at him, because he could heal; minus the loss of limbs. But he was conscious, despite being still with white blood trailing from his lips and nose, he could hear David's words and he heard him stalk away silently.
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(A/N: I am not looking forward to the next chapter. I am not too sure what I'm going to write once this and David are finished. Seems I'm seeing Joker Saturday, maybe I'll dabble and try writing something for him, if anyone is interested it'll give me incentive to start something new ahah. I'm so easily swayed!! xD)
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Singularity
Fiksi Penggemar"Everything that is alive, can love; it can feel. Even if you think you can't, doesn't actually mean you can't, Walter." Onora Price smiled from behind one of the many trees which were stashed away onboard the USCSS Covenant at the brunette syntheti...
