literature

The SR Project: When it Ends (sad ending)

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The sun had barely risen properly as Fletcher carefully wheeled his wheelchair through the graveyard. The snow made it difficult, but he was getting used to it. After some time he finally reached his destination, severely out of breath. Rebecca was already there, waiting for him. They greeted each other with silent nods. Silently Fletcher handed Rebecca the wreaths he had on his lap. He noticed she had already brushed the snow away from the two graves and laid flowers on both.
"When did it happen?" he asked as Rebecca placed the two wreath on the two graves and he had regained his breath.
"Nine years ago today," Rebecca said, wiping the tears from her eyes. Fletcher carefully, with effort, moved closer to the newer of the two graves. The gravestone had a picture of a smiling woman in her late twenties. She was as beautiful as Fletcher remembered her, but something was wrong. Rebecca seemed to read his thoughts and sighed. "Her sister chose it... She felt it better to use a picture from before the accident," Rebecca said and stood next to Fletcher, handing him a photograph. He had to go through a painful coughing fit before he was able to accept it from her. It was the same woman, now in her early thirties, but at the same time not the same woman at all. The woman in the picture he was holding was no longer smiling, but instead she looked scared, holding her right hand up as a shield against the camera. What drew Fletcher's attention was the woman's left side and hand, or rather where the hand should have been. Was this his fault‽
"Good lord!" Fletcher said, drawing an angry look from an old lady close by, and suffered another fit of coughing. Rebecca took hold of his wheelchair and began guiding it out of the graveyard. He tried to protest, but Rebecca interrupted him.
"You are too old to be out in the cold like this, I believe they would understand," She said. Fletcher nodded, he hoped they would. He hoped they could forgive the things he had done. He looked again at the photograph he was holding and shuddered. They exited the graveyard in silence just as snow began to fall lightly from above. Outside the gates to the graveyard there was a woman, who upon seeing Rebecca, slowly approached them. Fletcher tensed, was this some cruel joke? "I'm sorry, but her sister wanted to meet you. They look quite alike don't they?" Rebecca said, noticing him becoming tense. Rebecca and the woman pleasantly exchanged greetings, but the mood darkened when the woman turned towards Fletcher. The look in the woman's eyes was pleasant, but with a dark sadness hidden underneath.
"So I finally meet you... I am Emily," the woman said and held out her hand. Fletcher hesitated for a moment, noticing the slight undertone of anger in Emily's voice, before taking her hand.
"Dr Creosote Yeoman Dibbler Fletcher, I apologize for what I have done," he said, shaking her hand. The slap wasn't hard, only enough to sting slightly, and seemed to make Emily satisfied. It was more of a statement than an attempt to cause harm.
"Let's get somewhere warm and get a coffee," she said and began walking towards a car parked close by.

Getting into the car caused some amusement, though not meant irreverently to those residing in the graveyard, as both Rebecca and Emily had to all but lift Fletcher into the car. It was not that he could not walk, but that he couldn't walk without support. Once inside, he looked around with wide eyes.
"Never been in a car before?" Emily asked with a smile, seeming confused when he shook his head.
"Last time I was in a car was in 1978 and that was a Triumph Dolomite..." Fletcher said with a sad smile. It had been his last, and first time, being intimate with a woman. Her name had been Amelia or something along those lines. It had been three days before his first major breakthrough in his research. He never saw her, or any of his old friends for that matter, again after that.
"1978! How old are you old man‽" Rebecca said jokingly as Emily stared the car and drove out of the parking lot. He had to think about that for a while; his mind slower than it had been when all this started. He appreciated Rebecca's lightening of the mood, but could still feel the sadness.
"What year is it?" he asked stroking his beard. When was the last time he had gotten the beard trimmed? Last year, no, two years ago maybe.
"Today's date is the second of February 2040," Emily said as they drove onto one of the main thoroughfares leading to the city centre.
"Then if I was born in 1953 I am 87," Fletcher managed to say just before another, although less severe, coughing fit kicked in. "Where are we going?" he asked when the coughing finally stopped once more. There was no reply and the rest of the journey was done in silence.

After about half an hour they arrived at their destination. It was a nice little café just off the high street, with few customers so early in the day. After finding a table and a waiter having taken their orders, Rebecca and Emily engaged in small talk. Fletcher didn't mind and decided to take a closer look at the photograph, taking it out of his chest pocket. He also took one of the photographs, this one taken twenty-four years earlier, he kept in his wallet out. The two photographs he now held were of the same woman, but taken at very different times and under completely different circumstances. The older of the two photographs was of a girl in her mid-twenties, with long brown hair and shining dark green eyes, smiling happily at the camera. The other photograph was the opposite in almost all respects. Instead of the joyful girl in the first photograph, she now looked like a cornered animal. Her hair was shorter and her eyes, although the same colour, seemed even darker. Where her left hand should be, there was just a bandaged stump. Slowly Fletcher noticed that the woman wasn't shielding herself from the camera, but instead was trying to cover the left side of the face. Looking more closely he saw it and gasped in shock. Most of the left side of her face was covered in an intricate dark scars. Looking closer still, knowing what to look for, he could see the same intricate scars on her arm and leg.
"Are you alright?" he heard someone say and felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and almost had a heart attack upon seeing Emily's face, but instead suffered a violent coughing fit.
When it died down some time later and he had been given a glass of water by a waiter, he noticed he had dropped the photographs and his wallet on the floor. It seemed like Emily had noticed as well, having picked them up before Fletcher could try to do so himself. After having picked them up, Emily stared at the photographs for a while. When she finally gave them back to Fletcher, she was crying and Rebecca began comforting her. It took some time, in which the waiter arrived with their orders, before Emily relaxed and carefully wiped her eyes with a napkin.
"May I ask what happened to her? Rebecca mentioned an accident," Fletcher said cautiously, needing to know. Emily blew her nose before clearing her throat and nodding.
"She was in a fire fourteen years ago," she said.

"The occupants of the flat beneath the one she was living in had forgotten to turn off an electric appliance, which caught fire during the night. She and her partner managed to get out, but she suddenly ran inside again. She had forgotten her five months old daughter, Hanna, inside. The fire-fighters found her unconscious in Hanna's bedroom curled in a corner, Hanna in her arms. She had a lot of burn down her left side and her left hand severely burned and full of glass. It had to be amputated or there was a risk of infection of some sort," Emily said, tears pouring down her cheeks. "When she woke up in the hospital, they had to restrain her to the bed until they managed to sedate her," Emily continued. Fletcher carefully laid the photograph on the table, pointing to the scars.
"I've never seen scars like these before, what happened?" he said, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"It was an experimental treatment, some sort of powder I think, it sped up the healing time and decreased chance of infection. Her partner was unsure, but allowed them to use the treatment. It worked, but left those scars behind, among others," Emily said, taking the older of the two photographs from Fletcher. None of them spoke for a while, consuming their coffees and pastries, letting the information sink in. "Five months..." Emily began, but stopped to clear her throat. Again there was silence until Emily continued; "Five month later, the burns were almost completely healed, she tried to kill herself. The nurses managed to stop her and she didn't try again. Her partner supported her all the way and a year later, she was allowed to leave the hospital. She moved in with me, that's when my own daughter took that picture, her partner stayed with his parents."
"Her death?" Fletcher asked, finding the look Emily gave Rebecca odd.
"She was getting better, but was scared stiff if a stranger saw her or she saw young children. After a while she got pregnant again with her partner and things seemed to go fine, but after the birth she shut herself away. One morning she was found dead, having jumped out of a window," Rebecca said as Emily's phone began to ring.
"What happened to the daughter?" Fletcher asked as Emily answered the phone. There was a short conversation and Emily put the phone away, quickly drying her tears with a napkin, less carefully this time. Neither Rebecca nor Emily answered, instead looking at the entrance to the café. A girl of about ten had just entered the café and was coming towards them.
"Mom, can I have a hot chocolate?" the girl asked Emily, who nodded. The girl enthusiastically waved at a waiter and ordered a hot chocolate. "Hello Aunt Rebecca! Who are you‽" the girl said, turning first to Rebecca and then to Fletcher.
"I am Dr Fletcher, and who are you?" he replied.
"I'm Avalon!"

THE END
Wrote a new ending for The SR Project (sad one at least)

It is slightly more depressing than the previous one. 
I had a few thoughts around the storyline and thought maybe making it into a visual novel (without the ero stuff)

Note: This story contains the use of interrobangs "‽" they are a combination of ! and ?.

Please leave a comment so I can improve my writing style(s)
© 2014 - 2024 MoskusAS
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