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brookheimer · 1 year

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the one thing i feel pretty certain about for this episode is that america will not decide the election. a decision will be made, a president will be elected, but america will not be the deciding factor.

succession can’t mimic 2016 or 2020 point blank, that would be boring and have nothing to say. it can’t try to outdo trump because it’ll go too whacky and fall flat like veep’s last season (sorry conheads, no way he’s winning). but what it CAN do is illustrate the immensely corrupt, often arbitrary, and hugely influential nature of news media and conglomerations on political processes. i think probably jimenez will be in the lead, then atn/waystar does something to, i don’t know, discount votes or cast suspicion on jimenez or call the election for mencken early, and the tide will shift, even though the votes are already in. the votes don’t actually matter. the actual result doesn’t actually matter. that’s the power logan (and as an extension, billionaires and CEOs in general) hold. shiv says it herself to logan in s4e2: “just cause you say it’s true doesn’t make it true. everyone just fucking agrees with you and believes you, so it becomes true and then you can turn around and say like, 'oh, you see? see? i was right.'” but it doesn’t matter that logan’s “a human fucking gaslight,” everything he says comes true anyways. not because he was right, but because that’s how it works. he says things and then they happen, regardless of what the truth is or what should actually come to pass. that’s been one of the key throughlines since the very first episode of the entire show when, in response to kendall calling logan out of touch because times are changing and logan isn't changing with them, logan hisses that everyone always says you’re wrong until you do it and prove you were right: “you make your own reality.” you can't miss the bus if you're the one driving it. the election, the votes, the political process? none of that matters. it was always going to come down to the roys and their ilk (allies or enemies, just the top 1%) — that was the whole point of “what it takes” (the mencken episode) last season, after all.

i’ve seen lots of theories about what america will choose and how the candidates will respond and all that and i just don’t think that’s the show’s focus; i think the whole point is to demonstrate the lack of agency, the illusion of democracy. because, i mean, we’ve already seen the fall of democracy via fascist election and fascist election-denial, both in real life and in the countless (usually mid) satires created afterwards. it would be disappointing to see succession use the election to reiterate that same point of 'ohhh alt-right ahhhhh!!!' i don’t think it’ll be about ‘fascism’ at all — at least, not ‘trump-y’ fascism. it’ll be about fascism in the broader sense, the kind that doesn't sport a KKK hood (even when it keeps one tucked away in the attic). it's the fascism that every single roy (very much including shiv and kendall) aid and abet -- the fascism that so many succession fans don't seem to regard as fascism, despite it quite literally being the definition of fascism. trump wasn’t the entrance of fascism into our political process. he wasn’t the lone sign of the failing of american democracy. democracy in america has long been illusory, trump just made it more blatantly evident with his particular brand of hate-speech-ridden masculinist in-your-face fascism.

so i think that’s what this episode will hopefully focus on — america will not decide. corporations, news media, and the roys will. thus, the president will most likely become president not because the country supports his policies the most, but because he’s likely to agree to help block a business deal for a major media empire, and the other candidate is unlikely to. and this will likely come to pass due to said major media empire's interference and influence: they create their own reality. they say it, and everyone agrees with them and believes them, so it becomes true.

#WOOF okay here's my unnecessary ~thematic prediction~ for this episode #i have some more like random thoughts ab what'll happen but those r less thought out and more throwing shit at the wall etc #but i've been thinking a lot ab this ep n idk i just can't see any other way it could be done satisfyingly -- they can't just do 2016/2020 #again. the focus has to be elsewhere. i have some specifics thoughts on details but again those r kinda random n will be in another post #after bizarrely getting a lot of things right this szn i know a lot of people are looking to me to see what i'll say for this ep and let me #remind yall that I AM LITERALLY JUST GUESSING BASED ON MY UNDERSTANDING OF THE SHOW AND HOW NARRATIVES #TEND TO WORK PARTICULARLY IN SUCCESSION! if i am wrong which i very well might be please do not crucify me. i know literally #nothing more than anyone else i'm just a random english/gov major who likes speculating about media ! that said if i end up right again #somehow then yes i am a prophet i am jesse armstrong i have never been wrong about anything in my life. etc #watch this age so poorly tho.#LOL #also fwiw i dont think the Shock etc is going to come from the election results - maybe possibly from the way things happen (i could see a #line of miscommunication resulting in fucked up outcomes etc which i can get into in another post) or a roy sibs moment but i just #don't think there's any way the results themselves cld be surprising. it's jimenez or mencken. it's not gonna be connor guys.#succession #succession spoilers #except not really. just succession speculation more than anything else #long post #succession speculation #100

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shmorp-mcdurgen · 1 year

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Mandela Prophet AU: Confrontation

After a couple of months of dealing with, and being controlled by the parasitic alternate living in him, Adam decides to confront the being that cursed him.

CW: Body horror, religious imagery, blood

Notes: around 4′300 words. I’m actually decently proud of this one, and. stayed up late making it but either way hope you enjoy!

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Adam awoke on the cold, damp asphalt of a parking lot.

His back stung, feeling as though it had caught fire, the barely healed wounds pressed against the ground, the small stones digging into his skin. Adam slowly opened his eyes, gasping as he glanced around the empty lot he found himself on. He looked down at himself, seeing he was missing his shirt, and that his pants and parts of his pale skin were stained with crimson; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if it belonged to him or not. Either way, he hated that he was used to the sight of blood.

He attempted to sit up, only to let out a quick yell, immediately falling as he felt the muscles in his back cry out in pain at the motion. Adam grimaced as he curled his hands into fists, suppressing more cries of discomfort as he forced himself to stand on his feet, stumbling as a wave of dizziness hit him at once. He took a few steps back, his bare feet cold as they pressed against the asphalt. His breathing was uneven as he steadied himself, trying to ground himself by grasping and running his hands through his ratty, pale brown hair.

He grasped his head, groaning as he shook his head, as if he was trying to literally shake off the migraine that was developing. The rising sun shone from just under the horizon, with even the dim light from it making Adam’s dilated eyes sting. It was as if his eyes didn’t work as well in the light as they did in the dark anymore, like an owl, or a bat. The night vision would’ve been nice, if it meant he wouldn’t tear up during the day sometimes. Though, the feeling of dry tears on his face proved that he had been crying anyway.

Adam reached behind him, his cold, clammy hands lightly pressing against his back, the action making him wince. There were deep, pale reddish pink indented parts of his skin, just barely healed over so it wouldn’t bleed out. Dried and coagulated blood was stuck to his flesh, trails of it running down from the large blotches on his back. Every muscle and bone in his body ached, his spine and ribs popping and cracking with every motion he made, the ligaments and cartilage burning from stretching and bending in ways they weren’t made to bend. Adam simply sighed, his voice growling slightly before he crossed his arms and hunched over, beginning to walk down the sidewalk, hoping to get back to the BPS HQ without being seen; he needed some fucking clothes.

He stumbled down the sidewalk, his eyes darting around erratically as he hoped that the people in the cars passing by didn’t pay much attention to him, nor his haggard appearance. He could only imagine being mistaken for an alternate due to his pale skin, sunken eyes and the blood staining his clothes, and though the person wouldn’t necessarily be wrong, he didn’t want to be shot by someone due to that, instead trying to stay in the shadows, taking any shortcuts he can to get him to his house quicker. His legs felt wobbly, and his head was foggy, though nevertheless he continued, the thought of sleeping being far too tempting for his own good. Hell, he would’ve felt fine falling onto the grass of a random person’s yard, sleeping for a few hours, not being able to feel the overwhelming soreness that overtook him. However, he didn’t think of the idea much further than that, deciding to walk the last few blocks instead of having the cops called on him.

He trembled uncontrollably, rubbing his shoulders as he walked in an attempt to comfort himself, telling himself reassurances under his breath:

“It’s over, it’s alright, it’s not going to hurt you for a while, you’re okay.” Were among the statements he told himself, feeling comfort over the fact that the parasite within him wasn’t moving in the slightest; no twitches, no shifts, and no prodding. It was asleep, and hopefully it would stay that way. Despite the lack of motion in his torso however, Adam couldn’t help but feel the pressure in his chest, and the feeling of dread that clouded his thoughts. He felt like complete shit, in and out, physically and mentally. He shut his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, getting his thoughts together before he flinched at a sound nearby.

“Are you alright?”

Fuck.

Adam looked to his right, seeing a woman on her porch, staring at her with a look in between fear and concern. Adam didn’t even realize how haunting his crazed stare was until he looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat as he attempted to speak. “U…u-uh…I-I-I…” Adam could do nothing but sputter words unable to create a story to explain his state.

“Do…Do you need a doctor?” The woman asked innocently, though Adam couldn’t help but think she was stupid for asking; what would a doctor do to help him at that point? He didn’t need a fucking doctor, he needed a priest.

“N-No…no, I d…don’t.” Adam stated. “I’m…fine.”

“Hold on, I’ll call an—”

“DON’T!” Adam shouted, immediately regretting doing so when he saw the woman flinch. “Don’t…I-I…fucking hell—”

Adam glanced at the woman before running down the sidewalk until he was out of view, ducking behind another house as he shook; fucking shit, what if she called the cops? How the fuck would he even begin to explain his situation? He felt the fear coming from her, and he hated it. He hated that he could sense fear towards him, coming from a woman that only wanted to help out. He leaned against the outer wall, putting his hands over his face, staring through his fingers with wide, crazed eyes. He slid down the wall, sitting on the cold, dewy grass as he crossed his arms on his knees, curling into himself as he held his head low.

Such a fucking moron. Took a deal from the devil just because he wanted to know more than his mind could handle, finding out he was never human in the first place. God damn it, even his harsh breathing and crying sounded inhuman. Why couldn’t he have lived as a normal kid? Why was he chosen to be this stupid prophet? Why him of all people? Why him? Why him? WHY HIM?

“Why…me…?” Adam squeaked under his breath through the tears.

Sarah opened the door to see Adam leaning against the doorway, his stare vacant and fixed on the floor before he slowly looked up at Sarah’s face. He looked like death; a look that had become the norm for him. Sarah let out a breath, glancing towards the ground in a mutual understanding before stepping out of the way, muttering a defeated “Get in” under her breath before Adam walked inside of the apartment.

“Is that where you’ve been all night?” Sarah asked as Adam fell onto the couch, lying across it with a wince as the fabric pressed against his back.

“…Yeah.” Adam sighed quietly.

“It’s only been…what, a week? Two maybe?” Sarah said. “It seems like it’s been…especially irritable lately.”

“Yep.” Adam rubbed his face with his thin, bony hands.

“What haven’t we tried yet?” Sarah asked. “Antibiotics do fuck all, bullets work but…only if we hit you square in the chest with them; Surgery maybe?”

Adam scoffed. “What would a doctor do?” Adam said softly, a slight, disingenuous smile on his face. “They’d cut me open…dissect me. Gawk at the fact there’s a new species of alternate living inside me.” Adam pressed his hands against his face. “I’d rather take my chances with the stupid thing than be some…science experiment in a lab.”

“Okay, then what?” Sarah asked, her shoulders tensing. “Nothing seems to work, so…” Sarah gasped. “…exorcism.”

“No.”

“…Hey it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

“Since when have fucking exorcisms worked against alternates?” Adam sat up slightly. “You hold up a crucifix to them and they laugh at you. If anything, that would probably just piss the thing off more.”

“Come on, I’m just trying to help.” Sarah sighed.

“Whatever…” Adam groaned as he stood from the couch. “I need to take a fucking shower anyway. I’ll figure something out myself.”

As Adam walked down the hallway, Sarah glanced at the floor, grasping the sleeve of her jacket as she thought to herself. There had to be some way to get rid of the parasite…right?

That night, Adam laid on the couch, dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a black hoodie, its hood covering his head. He had his hands folded on his stomach, absentmindedly staring at the wall as Sarah sketched something in her notebook. He glanced over towards her, seeing a blank, yet focused expression as her pencil scratched across the paper. “…What’re you drawing?” He asked.

“Oh…” Sarah said, her eyes glancing around before making brief eye contact with Adam. “Just…thoughts.”

“…What ‘thoughts?’”

“I don’t know.” Sarah sighed. “Just doodling stuff I guess.” She glanced down at the drawing she was working on, being a diagram of what she believed the parasite looked like inside of Adam’s body, with its own “heart” under his sternum, and “veins” reaching through his limbs. She stared at it before shutting the sketchbook entirely. “Nothing important.”

“Right.” Adam looked away, sighing before leaning his head backwards to hit the armrest of the couch. He barely even fit on the couch anymore, with his legs seeming to be longer than he remembered. He stared at the popcorn ceiling, brows furrowing as he thought to himself. “…You think…I’ll ever be cured?”

Sarah paused, staring at Adam with uncertainty in her eyes. “…I don’t…know, maybe?” Sarah said. “There’s got to be a way to get rid of it, if it works like other parasites—”

“But it doesn’t, Sarah.” Adam stated with a half-lidded glare. “It works nothing like other parasites. It’s alive, it’s…able to make its own decisions.”

“Doesn’t…seem like that to me.” Sarah said. “Always seemed like it ran on instincts from…you know—”

“That time I almost killed you?” Adam said, despite the sour feeling in the air when he said it. “I get it. I don’t know it sometimes acts like…this dumb animal, and other times it feels like it’s being—”

Adam froze, his eyes widening as his mind began connecting the dots. He sat up, planting his elbows on his knees and covering his mouth with one of his hands. Sarah looked at him, feeling pressure building in her chest before she spoke. “You…alright?”

“I’m fine.” Adam shut his eyes for a second. “Don’t worry about it, just…figuring some things out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…” Adam sighed. “Just…thinking.”

Adam sat on his bed, still in his normal clothes before he glanced at the clock on the wall: 1:00 AM. He stood up, walking towards the door before slowly opening it, glancing at Sarah’s bedroom door, his eyes gleaming in the dark. Seeing that it was closed, Adam turned to the other side of the hallway, seeing the moonlight pouring into the living room through the window. He sighed through his nose, walking down the hallway and into the living room, grabbing his boots and slipping them on, tying them up quickly and quietly. He grabbed a flashlight from the coffee table, taking one last look around the room before shaking his head and walking through the front door.

Adam drove down the dark road, passing by the last home on the edge of town as his piercing gaze fixated on the road illuminated by the headlights. His throat felt dry, feeling the mandibles curled up next to his jaw scratching at the flesh in his inner cheek. The Parasite seemed to be slumbering, though he couldn’t help but feel as though the mandibles were scratching at his jaw and cheeks, trying to get him to turn back despite him having no desire to do so. He ran on intuition, following the road towards where he knew he needed to be, trying his best to ignore the faint blood stains on the dashboard and the fact that he was sitting in a car that belonged to someone…Adam preferred not to think about. It made him sick just thinking of him.

He drove silently, seeing a fence to his left, stretching on in front of the forest beside it until it ended at a large metal gate. Adam parked the car on the side of the road, sighing deeply before shutting it off and opening the door. Despite the darkness, he could see clearly, reading the metal lettering above the black gate: “ST. GABRIEL’S CHURCH”

Adam stared at the sign before looking down at the gate itself, seeing that it had torn police tape draped across the rusted metal. It swayed in the wind like ribbons as Adam pushed open the gateway, hearing the shrill squeaking and screeching the hinges let out as he passed through, walking down the gravel road as he turned his flashlight on, seeing the two large bell towers of the cathedral above the tree line.

He walked into the large opening where the church sat, his boots echoing off of the parking lot pavement as rain sprinkled down from above. He looked up, his determined gaze fixed on the larger-than-life church that sat before him, staring at the tall doors that led inside. He felt his heart beat hard in his chest, the mandibles in his cheeks scratching even harder, to the point where he could taste blood. Despite it and the intense dread building within him, he took in a deep breath and walked towards the doors. If that angel was anywhere, it would be here.

Adam pushed open the doors, seeing that it was nearly pitch black inside of the building. He looked forward, seeing the rows of pews to his left and right, the large pillars on the left and right walls reaching for the tall, vaulted ceiling. Steel, tall candle holders lined the walls, the candles unlit. The only light aside from Adam’s flashlight in the entire great hall was the moonlight shining from behind the giant stained-glass window behind the elevated stage, depicting an angel in white garb and long, flowing hair, holding their hands out with their eyes closed, along with a faint smile on their face. Their wings were pristine and perfect, and the background of the piece was made of blue, green, and yellow shards of glass.

There was a large pedestal in the middle of the stage, around the size of a desk but made of what seemed like carved stone. There was writing on the front of it, though Adam couldn’t make out what it was due to the staining covering it. Adam walked down the red carpet in between the rows of benches, his eyes fixed on a shadow in front of the stained glass window, hearing the faint clinking of metal as it swayed in an unfelt wind. Adam pointed his flashlight at the object, finally making out what it was; an analog television, being hung up by the chains wrapped around it, suspended above the large stone pedestal.

Adam’s expression turned to one of confusion as he pointed his light behind him, seeing nothing aside from the empty benches and unlit candles, despite the feeling of being watched. As he looked around, a bright white light hit his back, with the sound of static filling his ears as he swung around. The TV had switched on by itself, despite the cord hanging loosely underneath it, not connected to anything around it. Adam stared at the TV, swallowing hard, unable to help but notice that the mandibles abruptly became still.

Adam switched off his light, the static reflecting off of his dilated eyes before he saw random cords begin to appear from behind the screen, hanging from inside of the screen and spilling out from it. Adam stumbled back a few steps, staring at the TV as he saw something come into view from behind the glass; a thin, bony hand. It pushed through the screen, grasping the side of the television before being followed by the other, cool grey colored hand. Soon, a head appeared, along with a thin torso, both being concealed by a black hoodie. The beings head faced down as its hands gripped onto the sides of the TV, all before he looked down at Adam, his face finally being visible to Adam as his breath hitched. It was the man in the TV; the one who took him away.

Six’s right eye appeared to have been gouged out, dark, thick blood running down his thin cheek and staining the patchy facial hair below it. His remaining yellowed eye was fixated on Adam, seeming more surprised than anything else. His hoodie appeared to be stained and torn near where his torso was protruding from the TV, with cords seeming to be attached to the skin in his arms and his torso, attaching him to the television. Adam didn’t even let himself wonder what happened to him before he clenched his fists and grimaced.

“It’s YOU.” Adam stated through clenched teeth.

“…The…prodigal son…returns.” Six wheezed, his voice deep, and as rough as sandpaper. “How…stupid.”

“You…you’re the reason I’m here.” Adam stated. “You made me into this fucking THING; I COULD’VE HAD A NORMAL LIFE IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU.”

“Adam…you don’t understand…the…mistake you’ve made by coming here.” Six continued, glancing around the room. “It…knows you’re here now.”

“I don’t care!” Adam shouted. “Why?! Why me, of everyone you’ve taken, why me?!”

“Adam, LISTEN TO ME! You’re a FOOL for coming here.” Six snapped, leaning down as more of his torso revealed itself through the static, Adam finally being able to see it fully. He didn’t have any legs or even hipbones; his spine was all there was, wires and cords wrapped around the bones, forcing him to stay inside of the television. He was trapped.

Adam stared at the exposed spine before Six caught his attention yet again. “What I did…was for a reason.” He continued, his voice going back to the wheezy, out of breath inflections it was in before. “A reason RUINED by…it. The false shepherd.” Six spoke that statement with pure distain, staring off into space before fixing his gaze back onto Adam. “I…am not to blame. They…are the reason…you’ve been made into…this.”

“I know that…” Adam stated. “But I wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t replace some poor kid with ME.”

“I am just as stuck…as you, Murray.” Six stated. “Yet you refuse…to see what is right in fr—”

Six was interrupted when the TV began to short circuit, sending shots of electricity into his body as he screamed, his voice distorting and stuttering before he quickly retreated into the static, the screen flickering off soon after. Adam stared at the TV before he noticed faint orange lights appearing behind him. He turned around, seeing the candles lighting themselves, illuminating the dark hall as Adam’s flashlight shut off. He looked at his own torch, smacking it to get it to work, only making it flicker on before shutting off right after. As he looked forward, the flickering light caught something on the pedestal, Adam’s breath hitching when he saw it. A blackened, bony hand pressed against the top of the stone, soon followed by a thin, grey arm.

A figure emerged from behind the pedestal, standing tall above Adam, her long, black cloak covering her skeletal body. Her head was partially covered by a hood, along with white coif which was wrapped around her long neck and forehead. Her mouth was wide open, slack as if her jaw was dislocated, Adam only being able to see yellowed teeth in it. Large black eye sockets were situated high on her face, with two eyes being visible from inside of them, sunken into the void. Her skeletal face stared at Adam as she stood up straight, walking around the pedestal, her cloak flowing as her sharp, pointed legs silently walked across the floor, with her long arms moving to fold her hands in front of her.

Adam stumbled back from her, recognizing the haunting face from the home he and Jonah were investigating, shocked it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He tripped over his feet, falling backwards onto the ground as his flashlight clattered against the white tiles. He stared as the figure looked at him, her head tilting slightly as if she was waiting for something. She only looked away when everything went eerily silent and see looked right behind Adam, her head lowering as she kneeled on the ground.

“Coming here…searching for answers?” An echoing, raspy, choked voice stated from right behind Adam, making his hair stand on end as it chuckled. “How stupid. For once, I must agree with the tulpa; you’ve made a mistake coming here to see me.”

Adam scrambled to his feet, swinging around to see the tall “angel” in front of him, their gaze trying to be soft and inviting, though it gave the stark opposite feeling looking at it. The monochromatic entity stared at Adam, folding its hands in front of their chest as their giant, half-formed wings spread out across the church, blocking off any exits. Adam stood his ground, standing up straight and trying to shake off the overwhelming dread he felt growing within him.

“Y-You…you’re the one to blame for…all this, huh?” Adam stated.

“So…it’s a blaming game?” Gabriel asked, pressing their palm against their cheek as he tilted their head. “How fun! I suppose I can play it as well. First off…you are the one that took my deal, Murray. You were free to walk away.”

“That’s complete BULLSHIT!” Adam shouted. “You told me I’d learn everything I wanted to know, not that I’d get this…this fucking PARASITE!”

“Every deal comes with a price.” Gabriel leaned down towards Adam. “I told you to follow me…that was your end of the deal. I’ve given you everything you needed to know, yet you seem to resist holding your end of the bargain.”

“No.” Adam growled. “Never.”

“…Really.” Gabriel cackled, the sound drilling itself into Adam’s ears as he reached for something attached to his belt, covered by his hoodie; a pistol. “You think you have a choice in the matter anymore, Murray?”

Adam swung up his pistol, pointing it up at Gabriel’s smiling face, their all-too-wide smile not fading despite it. “Get. It. Out.” Adam commanded. “The deals off. Let me live my fucking life…and we’ll never see each other again.

Gabriel let out another loud cackle, Adam’s stern and determined expression fading slightly before he regained it, moving his finger to the trigger. “Oh, Adam.” Gabriel laughed. “The deal has already been made, there’s no going back now. However…I am capable of following one of your demands.”

Gabriel’s distorted laugh continued as Adam stared up at them with fury, all before the brave expression on his face disappeared in an instant as he felt a sharp pain in his torso. He shook, dropping his pistol before falling to his knees, loud ringing piercing his ears as Gabriel’s laugh and crazed, impossible expression taunted him. Adam could feel the parasite wriggling inside of him, awoken despite just having gotten out the night before. The pain seemed worse however, as if he was in the late stages of the parasite taking over instead of going through the discomfort and droning on and on he was used to.

“Adam…you have yet to follow your end of the deal…” Gabriel said calmly as Adam convulsed and shook, the parasite prodding at his skin and one of the mandibles pushing out of his mouth. “You disappoint me. I hope you won’t end up the same as the previous prophet; such promise…disappointing that his mere human form couldn’t handle the task.”

“F-F-Fuck…y…y-you.” Adam stammered through the pain, choking each word out.

“I’m giving you the option to start simple, Murray.” Gabriel continued as Adam slammed his fist against the floor, inhuman whining and screeching being audible from deep within his form. “You see…your friend, Sarah…she’s beginning to get in the way of your tasks. Still stuck in the past…thinking about her poor brother, as if he isn’t rotting underground already.”

Adam wanted to yell at them, but found himself being unable to.

“Or…perhaps that girl you were with…you don’t like her much anyway, do you?” Gabriel smiled. “Oh…of course; the cop.”

“I…I w…I won’t…” Adam growled, yelling right after as he felt the parasite jab itself into his back.

“Won’t what, Murray? Don’t you remember?” Gabriel said. “You’re mine. You are under my control…I’d recommend you don’t forget that…lest you regret it.”

Adam shut his eyes tight, clenching his teeth before he suddenly felt the parasite stop moving, as if it abruptly fell back asleep. The mandibles retracted, the sudden lack of pain making Adam fall onto his side, lying on the ground as he gasped and coughed. Gabriel stood up straight, the tall “nun” approaching them and standing by their side, her gaze also fixed on Adam’s form. “Tick tock, Murray.” Gabriel said. “My patience is waning. If you refuse to uphold your end of the deal…I’ll make you do it instead. You have so much potential…don’t waste it.”

Adam shook, drenched in a cold sweat as he watched Gabriel and the “nun” disappear, the candles blowing out and plunging the church in darkness. Adam couldn’t make himself move, curling into himself as tears ran down his cheeks. He wanted to tear Gabriel apart; limb by limb. He wanted to tear the smile off of its face and see its wings pinned to the wall. However, despite the rage in his heart, he wondered if it was worth resisting. He shook off the thought, shakily and weakly pushing himself onto his feet, stumbling a couple steps before he looked down the hall, his breathing harsh. His brows furrowed, his fists curling up tight enough to make his knuckles pop.

As long as there was time on the clock, there was time to fix things. All he needed was help, and soon. Tick tock, Adam. Tick tock.

#mandela catalogue #tmc #mandela prophet #adam murray #sarah heathcliff #alternate gabriel #tmc preacher #tmc six #body horror #blood tw #religious imagery cw #shmorp writes sometimes #I don't know what possessed me to write this cause. the motivation was. so sudden-#Literally stayed up until 2 AM last night writing this. was it worth it? actually yeah kinda #Adam you big dumbo you can't just go up to basically satan themself asking for a damn favor-#Here's me back on my bullshit. being fixated on my own aus. /lh #also yes I'm aware. 10/10 titles for my fics. so cool so. descriptive- /s #Prophet Adam (tmc)

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