Portal 2 - Murderer

This time is even worse than the first.

You do not have the chance to think it through, nor to counter the attack. Falling for it twice is just too much for you to bear. Your mind shuts down under the weight of rage, then fear, then just one word — murderer.

You have learnt the hard way, how being helpless sets your fury ablaze. The strength of it would be able to free you a thousand times, if only you could use it — but you are tied to a procedure, and it is checkmate, once more, against a heartless human.

There are no words to tell how much you hate her. You can picture her whole, in your clouded sight — you imagine her gloating and arrogant, shaken by the same gross laughter that haunts your memories of them.

In your delirium, her voice sounds stinging and cruel. It is so easy, so tempting, to overwrite what you will never hear with a nightmare — if nothing else, it helps you make the whole thing less terrible.

At least, you will be sure you are being killed by a true monster.

The end grows closer, the humiliation certain. You keep her image as your target — in the procedure, it is the best you can do. It is against her that you throw your voice, then let the pain spill out, unbearable, as she indirectly beheads you.

There is no room, of course, to look at her. Not even this could force you to do it.

You naturally miss it all.

Her anxiety passes unnoticed, just as your agony does — so you believe. You never feel her eyes on you, following your every move; you ignore the pace of her heartbeat, caught in the realization that things have gone wrong all over again.

This is not the way she meant them to go. But you don’t know.

Come what may, she is your murderer. Why should you wonder, when you have lived through it all already?

You will not listen, nor will she speak. To the end of the world, the moments you go through will not find a chance to be told. Yet, in the twists of fate, you are closer than you think — it is written in the dark hue of her eyes, left alone to their fate, and in the horror of her deep regret.

She is a monster, your head repeats, from a small place you do not recognize. She is not like you at all.

You will never believe, in the centuries to come, that the echo of your scream shook your hearts in the very same way.