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KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2131 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 34
- 35
Title: KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Author: Robby a.k.a. Mr Naked
Rating: NC17/AU
Pairing: everyone and then some more
Disclaimer: I was smoking some really good stuff when I came up with this.
Betas: Hannelore_K
Author's Note: a bit of explaining for this story, at http://community.livejournal.com/mrnakedslash/17435.html#cutid1

KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Part III – Just Like You Imagined

Chapter35

It sounds as if someone is throwing a few specks of sand onto the floors. Then it feels like an illusion, the illusion of a short and sudden dizziness.

“Oh, fuck, look!” Olli shouts pointing to something outside the windows.

I look and see the mountains, and the gravel and stones falling, one, two at first, then, more and more, as I realize that the whole ground is shaking under our feet.

“To the gate! Now!” Richard orders.

At first it is like a thin line, but it runs fast and grows thicker and thicker on the wall, then we hear this prolonged moan, as if the whole building realizes that it will collapse. As more and more walls start cracking, the floors seem to be crossed by these waves, breaking the exquisite mosaics and marble tiles.

“Till!”

They should leave me here. Only five of us can get through after all.

But Flake pushes me, and I start to run with the rest of them, through the hallways of this place. I guess the instinct of surviving is stronger. When in a situation of crisis you do things you wouldn’t have even dared to think you’re capable of doing, otherwise.

We find our way out, through walls and ceilings collapsing only a few centimeters behind us; we keep running even if we can barely see through the dust. We shout at each other, to signal where each of us is, so we can still stay together, even if our voices are covered by the tremendous sounds of this world disintegrating. The earth is shaking and quivering, threatening to swallow all six of us, along with this world. But we keep running; we are outside the castle, and continue to run and jump over the crevasses forming in an instant under our feet.

I should turn the page, I think. But what if it throws us somewhere else, not on the peak where the gate is. The gate to what?

I look at Olli as he pulls Richard, who was about to fall into one of the abysses opened on our path toward the peak where the gate is supposed to be. He said the highest peak. That must be it, I think as we all stop near what seems to be the tallest part of the mountain, its tip amongst a thick and black cloud.

We gather at the foot of it, trying to catch our breaths, preparing ourselves to climb the rocky wall. The whole island shakes, and we can see afar, at the horizon, the dark furious waters of the ocean breaking the whiteness of the ice, fighting with the crust and cracking it, threatening to sink the whole world. I look up, to the skies – it’s as if it’s another ocean with furious, black waters, swirling mad, around that peak we are starting to climb now. There is this icy cold gust of wind starting to lash our bodies, throwing and spreading pieces of ice, sharp like pieces of shattered glass.

“Don’t worry, go ahead!” I tell Christoph, as we begin to climb. Flake is the first one, followed by Olli, and then Paul followed by Richard. I allow Schneider to get in front of me, and I am the last one in the row.

The rocky wall trembles under us, as if trying to shake us off the back of the mountain, but we continue climbing, huffing because of the effort. A thin layer of ice covers the stone, but we struggle to hold on to it. I look behind and see other peaks falling into crumbs onto the ground; it is raining with rocks and ice.

I wonder what was the point of all that. What was the point of all our troubles? What if we aren’t in fact escaping, but just about to fall into another crazy world where things are twisted just as they were until now? Maybe I shouldn’t have killed him. He wanted me to do it, and I played along with his game, without figuring it out.

I should have stayed there, with him, if it is only for five of us to escape from here. My legs feel numb. I know that I want them to feel numb. My foot slips.

“TILL!”

Christoph’s shout.

As if I just woke up, I see the sky above the mountain, and Christoph’s face – I am hanging over the crevasse and Schneider is holding me by my forearm so I won’t crash into the abyss.

“Hold on, Till!” He whispers, squeezing my flesh and bones in his fingers.

In spite of the moans and the groans of this world collapsing, I can still hear that calm voice. Not Christoph’s voice. His. And I hear decay in his words. My decay. I would never be able to live, there would be no more Sun in my life, I would only be this ruin, carrying this emptiness in my soul, remembering the way his bones snapped, broken between my fingers. The way life slipped through my fingers.

That’s what we went after - peace and happiness, smiles and kindness, not that piece of plasma ball up there in the sky. That’s what you meant, right?

“I’m sorry Christoph,” I whisper.

It’s so unbelievable, unclasping one finger after the other. Like in a dream, I shake my arm to force him to let me go. Then, I start to fall. I am looking at the skies as they are clearing and turning into the purest blue. The skies are smiling at me. And I am like an angel falling, a feather, a speck of dust blown by the breeze off the cliffs.

The image of Christoph crying my name as he is stretching out his hand in vain, it is getting further and further away from me; so far away.

“I’m sorry,” my thoughts whisper.

My back hits the ground. It feels as if this huge fist has punched me, while everything inside me is getting squashed. My gaze remains propped upon the blue of the sky. Somewhere, miles and miles above me, the echoes of their voices screaming my name are hitting the stone walls of the mountains, like scared birds.

I don’t hear anything; I just acknowledge what he tells me, as I stare at the pure blue crystal sky – they are coming down after me. And it is as if even the sounds of this place crumbling are fading away. There’s the dull pain paralyzing my entire body, but it is only somewhere there, like that me in the corner in the dirty green room where an angel from Hell was sucking me. They are free to get through the gate. The skies are crying on my face with white tears.

“Till!”

“Man, that was quite a fall!”

“Don’t move him! His back might be broken!”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“We can’t just leave him here!”

It’s cold, so cold. It is snowing. Their voices are harsh gasps. White damp vapors come out of their nostrils and mouths as they talk and breathe.

They fight, they feel guilty, Christoph’s blue eyes are darkened now. If only he could have kept me there, in his grasp. But, no, no, please don’t feel guilty, please go, you’re all free now, you can all escape now. Otherwise we would have had to choose, draw a straw or whatever. Now, go, go…

But they can’t hear my thoughts. And I can’t talk. I suppress my moans of pain as Richard and Christoph carry me toward the peak.

It’s even colder, snow covers the mountains, a thick layer, sucking at our feet, making it even more difficult for us to climb. And it’s hard to take one step after another through this blizzard.

They decide we should stop and set a tent for the night. They still have those backpacks we prepared before leaving the ship stuck in the ice. It is as if I am covered by a crust of ice, my skin and my superior layer of flesh turned into ice. I am becoming slowly, millimeter by millimeter an ice block, until my heart will freeze, too.

I refuse the food and the hot tea they try to give me. They should stop wasting resources, time and energy. And, somehow, I figure that Flake realizes already what’s going through my mind, but he refuses to do it. It should be all six of us, after all! None of them is talking; we are all listening to the wind howling outside our little world wrapped in the thin fabric of the tent. It’s not only the storm; there are the shakes of the Earth, and the world crumbling.

“We’re wasting time,” Paul says at one point, nervously.

“And where the fuck do you want to go in the blizzard out there, and when it’s so dark!” Christoph grumbles at him.

He is right. I wish I could tell him it’s not his fault. It’s me that let go of the hand. Actually, I think, as I’m the only one awake while the others sleep, I wish he would stop feeling guilty. Because no matter what I’d tell him, he would still feel like it’s his fault. I wish I had died on the spot, there.

Now I’m a burden that they struggle to carry to the top of the mountain, to that gate that I know I’ll never get through. The blizzard has stopped, leaving this thick layer of white snow sparkling in the sun, under the pure blue sky. Snow so deep that their legs sink to their knees as they move up to the top of the mountain, slowly, exhausted. But it looks like we are at the end of our road of a million miles. We made it.

They place me to sit on the snow, while we all six contemplate the peak. It’s just a piece of stone, frozen, while in the background is the blue of the sky. That’s it. We are at such an altitude that we don’t hear anymore as the rest of the world is destroyed. This point is so high, not even the earthquake can reach it. And the sun is so warm on the skin of my face, while the snow is so bright, blinding us.

“Where’s the gate, then?” Olli asks.

He runs right on the tip of that top of the peak and looks around. Flake and Christoph are holding me, as I’m sitting half buried in the snow.

“He lied, didn’t he?” Paul asks.

I look at each of them, for one more time. The sun is up there, warm like a smile, like the peacefulness inside my heart. The gate is there, I tell them in my mind.

I inhale the harsh, frozen air and I close my eyes with eyelids turned into icicles. Yes, there’s this gate, made of massive warm wood. And it has a reddish, pleasant color, the thick wooden trunks being held together by old iron bars and nails. And there are intricate carvings on the wooden frame.

I open my eyes just a bit to look at it – it stands right on the top of the peak, surrounded by the sky like by a blue wall. It worked, and the gate looks just like I imagined it.

Now, go! You’re all free!

I close my eyes back again. From behind the darkness under my eyelids I hear their shouts fading away: “Till! Fuck, don’t do this now! Till!”

Go, I am turning the page. And the page is black. I am sinking into a warm ocean with dark waters.

Far, far away from me, there’s the sound of the rusty grunts of a heavy wooden gate opening.

*

I sense it sliding off my thigh, even before opening my eyes and waking up. I slam my hand over its pages, as if I am catching a fly. Then I open my eyes, a bit scared.

The purring sounds of the engines and the constant whooshing remind me that I am in the plane. A plane?

“You fell asleep.”

I twist my head to see Christoph sitting on the seat on my left.

“Yeah, apparently,” I reply with this rusty voice, as I close the book and put it between the plane’s wall and my thigh.

I rub my face, wondering what the hell is going on.

“Wish I could sleep while traveling,” Christoph says and he starts stretching.

I hold my hands over my face, as I feel this painful pounding under my forehead bone.

I hear the person fidgeting on the seat in front of me, followed by Paul’s voice: “What happened, Till?”

I run my fingers through my hair and sigh heavily.

“I had this really fucked up dream,” I reply.

“Really? What was it about?” Paul asks.

I look at Schneider. He cracks a smile, but I guess I really look like shit. Because I really feel like shit.

I recline back on my seat and close my eyes.

“It was really fucked up. Paul, you were, at one point, dead on a table, but still not dead, and I was supposed to perform surgery on you to save your life. Then, Schneider was this transgender, and we all five were his dogs.”

I am so thirsty. I think of asking one of the flight attendants for some water, but it’s too much of an effort for me right now.

“What happened?” I hear Richard’s voice, but I keep my eyes closed.

“Till had some weird dream,” Paul has to share it with him.

“It was really fucked up,” I add. “We were all living in this apartment, and there was this cruel Beast that ruled the world, in a dictatorship…”

“And what was I in your dream?” I hear Richard’s voice addressing me.

I open my eyes. I freeze. He is standing near Schneider’s and my seats. He is… oh, fuck, I’m choking, he is… He is wearing this blue velvet coat, over this white shirt and white pants. He is also, shit, this can’t be true! He is also wearing this dark blue top hat… and…

I look at Schneider! I turn to Paul. They both look ok. Except Richard – his face! Oh my God, his face… hold me I’m choking! This can’t be true!

I should turn the page! Yes! The page! The fucking page! All my thoughts are yelling, as I can’t unglue my glare from his face – painted in white, with dark blue lipstick on his lips, and dark blue make-up around his eyes, representing some sort of hellish flames! Please, the page! Turn it! Now!

But Richard grins, like he grinned back then, when we were about to perform surgery on Paul! No, no, NO! Turn the page! Turn it! NOW!

~ THE END ~
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KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)