CK: Hello, ladies and gentlefolk, and welcome to the first fanfiction that I've written in a looooooong time.......to those of you who are fans of my three works-in-progress, I'd best warn you that I've lost all inspiration I once had for them, so I don't think I'll be coming back to them.

To everyone else, this story has three chapters, at least (I'm not positive where I want to end it), so stick around. All three (prepared) chapters are songfics, though the third one is different than the first two. And be prepared, because it's going to be sad.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh, 'Easier to Run' by Linkin Park, or any of Lemony Snicket's books

Thanatopsis: Necrophilia

"For Beatrice-

My love for you shall live forever.

You, however, did not."

-A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Reptile Room, by Lemony Snicket

It was sunset on a quiet fall evening. This late into November, the trees had all dropped their leaves and stood ominously throughout the horizon, almost commanding the winter to come and replace the former leaves with snow. The abandoned leaves sat in small piles surrounding their trunks, dead and rotting, being eaten by worms. Their former color of green was a mere memory, being replaced with a continuous sickly brown.

The sun was slowly disappearing, taking its time to take away the warmth it had brought to the earth throughout the day. It took its time to hide behind the horizon, almost as if to say: "Ha! I brought you warmth for a little while, but I'm going to take it away, and I'll keep on doing this day after day after day!"
Amid the signs of the end of the day and the end of fall was a castle, looking more in place with medieval times than with the new millennium. In one of its higher towers sat a man, with his easel and brushes, dabbing every now and then into a bit of color, then placing it onto a piece of canvas.

Pegasus J. Crawford stared out of the tall window to the scenery below, capturing that moment in time with every stroke his brush made. He really didn't care about the sunset or the trees or the rotting leaves, but he had missed the sensation of painting for so long. He hadn't done it very often in the last several years, and it relaxed him to know that he hadn't lost his touch in that space of time.

He would have liked to have painted more often.......he knew all too well that he had plenty of leisure time for it. But it made him uneasy to go back to his old hobby. There were too many memories he had that were just too painful.

He remembered her..........his muse. The girl with the blue eyes and golden hair who could always make him smile. The girl who seemed like an angelic being to him whenever he saw her or sensed her presence. She was his inspiration, his reason for being, his life....

Cyndia....

It's easier to run

Replacing this pain with something numb

It's so much easier to go

Than face all this pain here all alone

Cyndia, the girl who was everything. She haunted his past and present, and would probably define everything he did in the future. She was like a phantasm to him: she always seemed to be within grasp, but then slipped away to leave him with a cold, harsh reality that he didn't want to face. She had loved him, and he had loved her, yet that wasn't enough, apparently, to save them both from terrible fates. She had to face death itself, while he had to face a lifetime of loneliness and grief.

He had always tried his best to keep her a secret. The staff had learned long ago that the best way to keep their jobs was to keep quiet and not ask too many questions. The paintings on the wall were just seen as the whims of that loony Pegasus, some harmless thing he had in his throes of madness. No one seemed to care, which was just what Pegasus had come to expect, and he encouraged that. No one needed to know his weakness. No one needed to know that he was human.

Something has been taken from deep inside of me

A secret I've kept locked away

No one can ever see

Cyndia was his dark past, the hidden memory that no one could know about. Pegasus, the epitomy of evil genius, couldn't allow his enemies to see him hurt. They couldn't see that he was human, just like them. He couldn't let them know the pain that he felt every day of his life. Pegasus had been raised to wear a mask, a mask that always smiled. Smiled in an often cruel and slightly sadistic manner, yes, but smiling nonetheless.

Who would have thought that a man like Pegasus could hurt so deeply? What would people think if they knew that the great Pegasus knew how to cry? What would they say if they knew that his near-alcoholic manner was just a way of drowning his sorrows in the form of wine? What would they do if they ever found out that he was a human being, just like everyone else?

His past defined him. Everything he did or said came from how he was raised to be a gentleman, or how he was taught to always be calm and show little emotion, but most of it came from his deep longing to feel like he was loved again, to feel like there was someone out there who cared. But the one person who cared for him unconditionally had left a gaping hole in his heart so that not only was he alone, but he could never forget what it was like to live a normal life, making his own seem much the worse.

Wounds so deep they never show

They never go away

Like moving pictures in my head

For years and years they've played

Pegasus was the son of a Las Vegas businessman and a debutante obsessive with appearance, giving him an odd message throughout his childhood: live the great life, enjoy yourself to the fullest, take high risks whenever it pleases you, but never, EVER let the neighbors know about it. Should anyone find out that you are less than absolutely perfect, you have failed in life. And always, always remember this: emotions are lethal. Never let anyone think that you are anything other than pleasantly happy, unless doing so would be inappropriate. That means no crying unless it's a funeral, no anxiety unless it's a crisis, and no depression EVER. Being depressed is absolutely rude, and always makes conversation awkward.

So, as you could see, Pegasus was in a bit of a rut. His upbringing demanded that he forget Cyndia after a period of mourning (approx. one month), and then get on with his life, meet another nice girl (from an upper-class, respectable family, of course), and have lots of little grandchildren for grandma to coo over (not that Pegasus could see either of his parents cooing over anything). Yet, even after several years, Pegasus couldn't forget Cyndia. And as much as the memories of her hurt him, he didn't want to forget. She was such a large part of him, of his past, even of his present and future.....

.....if only she hadn't DIED......

If I could change, I would

Take back the pain, I would

Retrace every wrong move that I made, I would

If I could

Stand up and take the blame, I would

If I could take all the shame to the grave, I would

Well, that's what it all came down to, wasn't it? If she hadn't died, if she hadn't died, if she just hadn't DIED. Everyone would have been much better off if she just hadn't died. And as hard as Pegasus tried, he couldn't reverse the fact that she was dead. He had come close.........but how was he to know that everything would fall apart? How could he have known?

It hurt to much to remember that failure........the fact that the one time it counted the most, Pegasus had failed. He had to block out the memories, or they would drive him mad......

If I could change, I would

Take back the pain, I would

Retrace every wrong move that I made, I would

If I could

Stand up and take the blame, I would

I would take all my shame to the grave

Pegasus's painting was coming along quite nicely. The basic forms for everything he saw out the window was coming into place. All he needed to do was add the details, and the painting would be complete. There was a large red blur towards the bottom of the painting, one that didn't belong to the scene that he saw, but that was alright.....he'd fix that once everything else was done.

Everything in Pegasus's life had gotten so depressing lately.......in the last few months, he'd lost to Yuugiboi, lost any favor he had with the Big Five (not that it mattered, since they all got fired anyway), Funny Bunny had jumped the shark, his Prozac prescription had run out three weeks before it was supposed to, and worst of all.........he had forgotten Cyndia's voice.

It's easier to run

Replacing this pain with something numb

It's so much easier to go

Than face all this pain here all alone

It would probably seem silly to anyone else.......it had been years, of course Pegasus was going to forget a little bit of his memories of Cyndia. But Pegasus wasn't supposed to forget. He remembered everything else about her......the way she always played with her hair when she was nervous, that she always giggled or smiled when she tried to get away with a lie (harmless ones, of course), that she had a small scar on her left hand from when her cat bit her when she was ten......how could he forget her VOICE? How?!!?!

It saddened him greatly, but, try as he might, he couldn't conjure up her voice. He could remember the way her hair felt when he ran his fingers through it, he could remember the smell of her perfume, he could remember every detail of her face.......but when he thought Cyndia's voice, all he could draw up was a blank. How......how could he forget??? Cyndia.........

Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past

Bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have

Sometimes I think of letting go

And never looking back

And never moving forward so there'd never be a past

Whenever he thought about Cyndia, it felt like a strong hand was squeezing his heart. Pegasus could swear it felt like his heart would burst sometimes, but it never did, it just kept beating and beating, forcing Pegasus to continue with his daily routine, day after day after day...........it seemed very monotonous, looking at it from his perspective. What was their really to look forward to? He'd supposedly achieved the American Dream already: big company, big mansion, big riches. But what good had that done him? All it had gotten him was a torn out eye socket, and nothing to show for it.

Well, no matter what, there wasn't much he could do to change things for the better. Cyndia was like a ghost, one that never went away. Everything Pegasus did or said was haunted by her memory hanging there, smiling sadly into the darkness. There was also something else haunting him, a question that never went away: what if things were different? What if he could forget her, and maybe move on? Maybe he'd be able to meet someone, someone who was just as wonderful as Cyndia.........

If I could change, I would

Take back the pain, I would

Retrace every wrong move that I made, I would

If I could

Stand up and take the blame, I would

If I could take all the shame to the grave, I would

Of course, whenever he thought such things, he heard an inner voice screaming at him: "Idiot! You'll never be able to find someone as good as her!! No one can be better than Cyndia, and you must always remember that!! No one can be better than her, and you were lucky to have ever had her in the first place!!"

If only, if only.......Pegasus wanted to move one so badly, to just forget.....but he knew it wasn't possible. And he knew that he was the only person holding himself back. Letting go meant letting go of any hope that he would see Cyndia again, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to do that for very long. She was just too much of who he was.

If I could change, I would

Take back the pain, I would

Retrace every wrong move that I made, I would

If I could

Stand up and take the blame, I would

I would take all my shame to the grave

The painting was really coming together. Everything was complete, except for one small part: the red blob that had appeared. It was the only thing out of place in the painting, the only thing that had yet to appear in the view Pegasus saw from his window. Pegasus grinned slightly, adding detail to the blob to make to seem like it was just another part of the scenery.

Red, red, red, what was it about the color red that Pegasus liked so much? He wore a red suit, he drank red wine, his one remaining eye was red.......what was it about that color? Maybe it was its vibrancy, the fact that the color red stood out from all the others, demanding attention from everyone. Yes, that was probably it.......

Just washing it aside

All of the helplessness inside

Pretending I don't feel misplaced

Is so much simpler than change

Pegasus glanced at the window in front of him. It had been designed perfectly for painting its view, the way it stood from the floor until it almost hit the ceiling. Pegasus had always meant to paint by this window, but he had never gotten around to it before. Things were always getting in his way. He was always too busy......or too depressed.....to paint.

The sun was almost gone now, just a sliver was left to peek over the horizon playfully. Soon, the moon would keep watch over the world while the sun had its rest, at least until tomorrow, when it would come back again, just like the day before. Over and over again, the sun and the moon would follow the same routine, never changing.

It's easier to run

Replacing this pain with something numb

It's so much easier to go

Than face all this pain here all alone

Finally, the painting was done. Pegasus looked down at the red part of the painting. It no longer looked like just a blob of color, lying in the middle of the scenery. Instead, it had taken form. It was a red suit, attached to a head with white hair, with white shoes on the other end.....and on the head, there was a red eye....

Vacant......

It's easier to run

The sun was gone now. It had disappeared. Pegasus stepped up, onto the window ledge, and surveyed the ground beneath him.

The scenery before him had always looked the same before, day after day. Now he was going to change it. He would add himself to the scenery.

If I could change, I would

Take back the pain, I would

Retrace every wrong move that I made

He had wanted to make one last painting. He hadn't painted for so long. It would be a tribute.....the sunset in the painting would be a tribute to the end of the drudgery that was his life.

Not any more.

It's easier to go

Pegasus took one last breath of air, and felt the night breeze pass quietly. It felt cool and comforting.

He had been looking to reunite himself with Cyndia. He had found a way.....a way that was so simple, he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before.....

It was all over....it would finally, finally be over with......

His legs pushed off of the ledge.........

If I could change, I would

Take back the pain, I would

Retrace every wrong move that I made, I would

If I could

Stand up and take the blame, I would

I would take all my shame.......

Croquet and Kimo were playing poker in the drawing room of the castle. Kimo twisted his head to the left as he heard a sickening thud.

"Hey, did you hear that?"

"No, what?"

"....eh, musta been nothing. I've got two pair, aces and fives."

"I gotta full house, so I win. Now pay up."

...to the grave

"I wish this book could begin: Once upon a time, after a confusing if exciting childhood, I met a woman, fell in love, and lived happily ever after.

Once upon a time, after a confusing if exciting childhood, I met a woman, fell in love, and was never happy again."

-Lemony Snicket: The Unauthorized Autobiography

CK: Okkei, that's it for now! Don't forget to read Chapter Two: Tourniquet, and Chapter Three: Transience. Ja ne!