lastgunslinger: (gunslinger)
[personal profile] lastgunslinger
For the last few days Roland has been feeling...antsy. This is why he decides to explore. Sitting in his room, listening to music -- that wasn't doing it. It got even worse when he recalled that maybe he did know a song from the Johnny Cash album -- American IV.

"The Man Comes Around" is a hymn of the Manni.

The hairs on your arm will stand up
At the terror in each sip and in each sup
Will you partake of that last offered cup
Or disappear into the potter's ground
When the Man comes around


He's got it running through his head as he walks the bounds -- spending the morning outside, stopping in the bar for a brief lunch (and not looking at the front door), and then finally exploring the hallways he's never had reason to go down.

The song doesn't leave his head.

Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling, voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It's Alpha and Omega's kingdom come


A staircase now. He mounts it, step by careful step.

Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still


The song echoes in his ears.

Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still
Listen to the words long written down


Echoes -- and as Roland reaches the top, and opens the door there to see what looks like a duel arena, he doesn't hear --

When the Man comes around --

-- the footsteps close behind his that are now audible.

Date: 2005-07-07 01:43 am (UTC)
gonna_live: (dark and conversational)
From: [personal profile] gonna_live
(Strains the mind a bit, don't it? You think you're all alone.)

Quiet enough that even a gunslinger can't hear her.

(Maybe I come down the chimney, Kaylee. Bring presents to the good girls and boys.)

Kaylee stands behind Roland.

(Maybe not, though. Maybe I've always been here.)

Date: 2005-07-07 01:49 am (UTC)
gonna_live: (buy more stock therein)
From: [personal profile] gonna_live
"Hey there, Roland." She sounds -- cheerful. And yet somehow...flat. Hollow.

(I'm gonna give you a present. Get rid of a problem you've got.)

"How's it goin'?"

(There's nobody can help you.)

Somewhere a light snaps on, illuminating the dark at the top of the stairs.

(Say it.)

The black rose on her shirt is clearly visible.

Date: 2005-07-07 01:51 am (UTC)
gonna_live: (buy more stock therein)
From: [personal profile] gonna_live
-- her hands flash out to his chest and plunge --

Date: 2005-07-07 02:01 am (UTC)
gonna_live: (buy more stock therein)
From: [personal profile] gonna_live
-- his screams mean nothing.

(That's her beating heart, isn't it?)

Kaylee draws out the sword from Roland's chest, taking it slow, making it last.

(Pull off any one of a thousand parts, she'll just die. Such a slender thread.)

He won't stop screaming.

(You ever been raped?)

Kaylee frowns.

Date: 2005-07-07 02:27 am (UTC)
gonna_live: (buy more stock therein)
From: [personal profile] gonna_live
Roland tumbles to the ground, and Kaylee stands over him,

(stick I took Cort's stick I'm a man)

sword in hand.

A small, satisfied smile.

The light that showed Roland Kaylee's black rose flickers a little.

Click.

Footsteps walk away from the gunslinger's body, fading...and disappearing.

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