Anita Blake
November 14th, 2009, 11:33
"Do you know why you're here?" the woman in a white dress asked her companion gently, her eyes filled with concern and hope.
"More importantly," the companion smiled, "Do you know why you're here?"
"That's not important and you know it. You're avoiding the question, and you know you have to answer me. Do you know why you're here?" Her chiding was gentle yet, but there was an edge of irritation to her voice that her companion chose to ignore. A dangerous choice, risky, but nothing is gained without risk, and in this place, there was little enough left to lose that risks were worthwhile.
"I know why you're here," said the companion, still smiling that irritatingly benevolent smile, as if he knew something that the woman in white didn't, as if he was about to impart some great wisdom. If there was anything that the woman in white doubted, it's that her companion had any wisdom whatsoever to offer.
"You are here," he continued, with no hint of malice in his voice, "because you represent a need in this world for control, for maintenance of order. You are here because someone pays you to protect the social order from ideas, from thoughts, from outdated modalities. You are here because you are too stupid to think for yourself, too mired in the ignorance that has been beaten into you from birth to recognize that things are not always what you're told they are. You are here as a symbol, a reminder that in this era, cruelty and viciousness and torture are wrapped in a cloak of kindness, caring and love. Regardless, you are cruel and uncaring, vicious in your torments, brutal in your execution of those things, those ideas and minds that fail to synchronize with your own to the level of satisfaction you have been instructed to feel.
You are here because you are mad, completely mad, lacking the ability to see the world for what it is, to even see yourself for what you are. You think you are here to help me, but that is because you are so far mired in lies and illusion that you don't even know your true purpose. You are blissfully unaware that you are a murderer, a Great Destroyer of life, a killer of dreams, a ravager of hope. You are blind, completely unaware of your crimes, lacking reason and wit. That is why you are here, madam."
The woman in white stared at her companion, her face hard, jaw twitching with restrained anger.
"Fine," she said through clenched teeth. "Have it your way. I won't talk to you when you're like this." She rose to leave, and signaled to a man, also in white.
"He's acting up again. Make sure he gets his meds, I don't care if you have to strap him into his bed." She looked back at her former companion, who was watching the exchange with the same benevolent smile on his face, his eyes filled with sorrow. "We need to help him."
"More importantly," the companion smiled, "Do you know why you're here?"
"That's not important and you know it. You're avoiding the question, and you know you have to answer me. Do you know why you're here?" Her chiding was gentle yet, but there was an edge of irritation to her voice that her companion chose to ignore. A dangerous choice, risky, but nothing is gained without risk, and in this place, there was little enough left to lose that risks were worthwhile.
"I know why you're here," said the companion, still smiling that irritatingly benevolent smile, as if he knew something that the woman in white didn't, as if he was about to impart some great wisdom. If there was anything that the woman in white doubted, it's that her companion had any wisdom whatsoever to offer.
"You are here," he continued, with no hint of malice in his voice, "because you represent a need in this world for control, for maintenance of order. You are here because someone pays you to protect the social order from ideas, from thoughts, from outdated modalities. You are here because you are too stupid to think for yourself, too mired in the ignorance that has been beaten into you from birth to recognize that things are not always what you're told they are. You are here as a symbol, a reminder that in this era, cruelty and viciousness and torture are wrapped in a cloak of kindness, caring and love. Regardless, you are cruel and uncaring, vicious in your torments, brutal in your execution of those things, those ideas and minds that fail to synchronize with your own to the level of satisfaction you have been instructed to feel.
You are here because you are mad, completely mad, lacking the ability to see the world for what it is, to even see yourself for what you are. You think you are here to help me, but that is because you are so far mired in lies and illusion that you don't even know your true purpose. You are blissfully unaware that you are a murderer, a Great Destroyer of life, a killer of dreams, a ravager of hope. You are blind, completely unaware of your crimes, lacking reason and wit. That is why you are here, madam."
The woman in white stared at her companion, her face hard, jaw twitching with restrained anger.
"Fine," she said through clenched teeth. "Have it your way. I won't talk to you when you're like this." She rose to leave, and signaled to a man, also in white.
"He's acting up again. Make sure he gets his meds, I don't care if you have to strap him into his bed." She looked back at her former companion, who was watching the exchange with the same benevolent smile on his face, his eyes filled with sorrow. "We need to help him."