Richard Castle [Castle] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thebestseller) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thoughtformed2012-09-23 10:33 pm
thebestseller) wrote in thoughtformed2012-09-23 10:33 pm
Entry tags:
A lost chapter
[At first, the static on the television screens seems to fade into blank nothingness- then, slowly, as the camera moves around, one can see that it's actually dark streets, surrounded by tall buildings, skyscrapers reaching up for what seems like forever. The sky itself is lost in a sea of blackness- there is no moon, no stars, though it is clearly nighttime. There's only the occassional dull street lamp visible, but none of the buildings are lit up, although even now, in the middle of the night, some of them should be. Big cities never truly go to sleep, after all.
Some may recognize these as the streets of New York City, but the Big Apple is, for once, silent. No traffic, whether by vehicle, on foot, or by bicycle moves along the streets and avenues. There is no sound of chatter, no hustle and bustle. No people. No signs of life at all. It's as though every living being has vanished all at once. Steam comes out from underneath manhole covers, giving the whole place a very eerie, empty, ghostly sort of quality. One almost expects there to be some sort of monster or spirit prowling.
Then, suddenly, the moon appears, bathing the streets in its pale light, and a familiar voice begins to speak without emotion.]
Meddlesome. Sticking your nose in places it doesn't belong, and look where it's gotten you.
[It's Castle- or someone who looks remarkably like him, anyway. When the camera rounds a corner, he's visible, looking upon the body of a dead woman. The woman's face is turned away, and she's a black and white image, though there are still stab wounds visible on her body. Castle's face is impassive as he gazes upon her, shaking his head. He's dressed in a long black coat and black hat, his eyes sunken and with dark circles underneath them, his face gray with unshaven stubble, looking for all the world like your stereotypical film noir detective.]
Curiosity killed the cat, after all. And gullibility killed the innocents. Following the evidence is supposed to mean the criminal gets captured. It's supposed to mean that justice has been served, and at the end of the day you can rest a little easier, keeping the scum off the streets. But one got away. Another of them had to be killed to protect your own life.
[Another person passes nearby in the shadows, one of the streetlights glinting off the blade of a knife he holds in his hand.]
People who wanted to see justice done in the world. People who got too close to the truth. People who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. All ending up in the same place for their troubles. Dead, buried, and mourned. Mothers, sisters, fathers, brothers, best friends, family.
[Castle's Shadow begins to walk, and the camera follows him. More bodies, both men and women, are visible on the ground as he passes by them, heedless- some have been stabbed, some have been shot, some are laid out peacefully with their arms crossed over their chests, ligature marks still plainly visible around their necks. However, none of them have visible features- their heads are all turned away, as though they are nameless victims of no importance.]
You opened up that Pandora's box, even though you were warned how dangerous it was. When you were told that it was an old wound that she'd healed and never wanted to open up again. When you were told the evidence didn't lead anywhere. You could have just left well enough alone...
[He turns a corner, and there sits a writing desk, though the top of it has begun to rot away. A file folder sits on top of it, filled to bursting with pieces of paper.]
Could have just enjoyed your fame and your cushy life. Could have stayed safe. You didn't even try and foresee the consequences, and look where you both ended up. Weren't strong enough to protect them. To protect her. You let that killer get away, to take more lives another day. You've lived with that ever since he escaped.
[Castle's Shadow passes by dark alleyways, where two men peer out- one whispering the name "Nikki" over and over, like some sort of madness mantra. The other has a knotted rope in his hands and is turning it over, looking thoughtful. However, none of them pay Castle any heed, and he doesn't pay any attention to them, continuing to walk until the landscape suddenly changes- to a graveyard. There are mourners, veils and shadows obscuring their features, and a podium with a fresh blood spatter over it.]
It's your fault. Your fault. You don't deserve her forgiveness for all of the mistakes you've made. You couldn't control yourself and did it for your own selfish reasons, no matter what you told her afterwards. It would be better for everyone else if you just faded away.
[There's the crack of a sniper's rifle, and one of the featureless figures in the crowd drops. The camera pans around to show the Shadow's front, and he opens his coat, revealing an awful, bleeding wound on his chest.]
The world will remember you for this one last bullet.
Some may recognize these as the streets of New York City, but the Big Apple is, for once, silent. No traffic, whether by vehicle, on foot, or by bicycle moves along the streets and avenues. There is no sound of chatter, no hustle and bustle. No people. No signs of life at all. It's as though every living being has vanished all at once. Steam comes out from underneath manhole covers, giving the whole place a very eerie, empty, ghostly sort of quality. One almost expects there to be some sort of monster or spirit prowling.
Then, suddenly, the moon appears, bathing the streets in its pale light, and a familiar voice begins to speak without emotion.]
Meddlesome. Sticking your nose in places it doesn't belong, and look where it's gotten you.
[It's Castle- or someone who looks remarkably like him, anyway. When the camera rounds a corner, he's visible, looking upon the body of a dead woman. The woman's face is turned away, and she's a black and white image, though there are still stab wounds visible on her body. Castle's face is impassive as he gazes upon her, shaking his head. He's dressed in a long black coat and black hat, his eyes sunken and with dark circles underneath them, his face gray with unshaven stubble, looking for all the world like your stereotypical film noir detective.]
Curiosity killed the cat, after all. And gullibility killed the innocents. Following the evidence is supposed to mean the criminal gets captured. It's supposed to mean that justice has been served, and at the end of the day you can rest a little easier, keeping the scum off the streets. But one got away. Another of them had to be killed to protect your own life.
[Another person passes nearby in the shadows, one of the streetlights glinting off the blade of a knife he holds in his hand.]
People who wanted to see justice done in the world. People who got too close to the truth. People who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. All ending up in the same place for their troubles. Dead, buried, and mourned. Mothers, sisters, fathers, brothers, best friends, family.
[Castle's Shadow begins to walk, and the camera follows him. More bodies, both men and women, are visible on the ground as he passes by them, heedless- some have been stabbed, some have been shot, some are laid out peacefully with their arms crossed over their chests, ligature marks still plainly visible around their necks. However, none of them have visible features- their heads are all turned away, as though they are nameless victims of no importance.]
You opened up that Pandora's box, even though you were warned how dangerous it was. When you were told that it was an old wound that she'd healed and never wanted to open up again. When you were told the evidence didn't lead anywhere. You could have just left well enough alone...
[He turns a corner, and there sits a writing desk, though the top of it has begun to rot away. A file folder sits on top of it, filled to bursting with pieces of paper.]
Could have just enjoyed your fame and your cushy life. Could have stayed safe. You didn't even try and foresee the consequences, and look where you both ended up. Weren't strong enough to protect them. To protect her. You let that killer get away, to take more lives another day. You've lived with that ever since he escaped.
[Castle's Shadow passes by dark alleyways, where two men peer out- one whispering the name "Nikki" over and over, like some sort of madness mantra. The other has a knotted rope in his hands and is turning it over, looking thoughtful. However, none of them pay Castle any heed, and he doesn't pay any attention to them, continuing to walk until the landscape suddenly changes- to a graveyard. There are mourners, veils and shadows obscuring their features, and a podium with a fresh blood spatter over it.]
It's your fault. Your fault. You don't deserve her forgiveness for all of the mistakes you've made. You couldn't control yourself and did it for your own selfish reasons, no matter what you told her afterwards. It would be better for everyone else if you just faded away.
[There's the crack of a sniper's rifle, and one of the featureless figures in the crowd drops. The camera pans around to show the Shadow's front, and he opens his coat, revealing an awful, bleeding wound on his chest.]
The world will remember you for this one last bullet.
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