bushwacka666
12-23-2005, 07:43 AM
Alrighty then. This is a standalone fic that I started writing a little while ago. I came across an actual anonymous quote some time ago, and immediately knew it could work under this context.
Technically speaking, the entire fic's there. But I'm open to constructive criticism and suggestions for improving and expanding on it. So feedback from anybody is very much appreciated. Hope you like this little piece I call:
LIFE OF A DEAD MAN
***
"Imagine not being able to find mention of your kind anywhere.... Imagine having no newspapers, books, helplines, support groups etc. where you can contact similar people. Imagine the feeling that you are the only one in the world living your secret life because it has no recognition, acknowledgement, or identity..."
He had heard that quote once, a long time ago, and had never forgotten it since. He had no information about who had said those words or when, just that they were by some human from Earth.
He himself was not from Earth. Far from it: he originated from some far away place, many light years away from the beautiful blue and green planet that provided the only settlement for life in the solar system of the Milky Way galaxy. Nevertheless, few words had ever before touched him as deeply as those from this planet.
He was the Phantom Ranger, a defender of good and truth like so many other Rangers both before and after him. And yet he was unlike any other: mysterious, enigmatic, covert. A ghost among the living. A spectre among the visible. An unknown and intangible obstacle placed in the path of darkness.
Years had passed since he had encountered the Turbo Rangers of Earth. He had appeared to them without warning, entering a battle only when the situation called for it, and then fading away again just as quickly. And this was exactly how he had operated for countless millennia. He had his reasons for secrecy, but they never made the reality any easier.
This is why he related to that Earthen quote on such a personal level: “No mention of his kind”? Yes he was used to that: when he assisted, very rarely had those in need ever been allowed to know of his existence or presence. As a result, even with his undetectable but unrestricted access to many information repositories throughout the Universe, finding any mention of his call-sign was a rare and extraordinary event.
“No support groups etc. where he could contact similar people”? Yes he was used to that also: he worked alone, sometimes willingly, other times with a hint of more subtle reluctance. He had long since convinced himself that he was truly unique among the ranks of the Rangers. How could he contact similar people when no such beings existed? Despite all the advanced equipment and expertise at his disposal, he possessed no means of communication that could ever stop him from feeling truly alone. No technology, he felt, could ever be that advanced! And if by some miracle there were others like him out there somewhere, they were probably keeping themselves just as well concealed as he was.
“The feeling that he was the only one in the world living his secret life because it has no recognition, acknowledgement, or identity”? Indeed, he was very much used to that as well. It was because he was so covert in his operations that he rarely received any recognition of his efforts. Alright, it was a fair point: many Rangers fought the forces of evil without receiving any form of tangible reward, but at least they still got thanked for it. Him on the other hand? Even a simple “thank you” rarely resounded in his ears.
So why? When he never even received so much as a thank you, why carry on the battle? Why continue to save these people? Simple: because it was the right thing to do. No other explanation was necessary. In his opinion, the good and innocent was worth protecting. Countless beings of virtue and justice throughout the Universe, yet it never seemed to be enough. He always wished there could be more creatures like that, willing to follow the good path. But in the end he would fight for them all. The forces of evil were dangerous and powerful, and he vowed to stand in their way. Not because he expected rewards, but because he wanted to help.
He had to help, but he had to stay hidden. He had reasons, although after all this time those reasons were becoming lost even to him. Yet he had nobody but himself to blame for this: he had chosen this life of secrecy. He had willingly made those unspeakable sacrifices. The choice not to interact with the world was his and his alone. He watched over them from the shadows, from the concealment of darkness. And when he was out in the open, his power of invisibility negated that freedom immediately. Those were times when he could get so close to people, and yet feel more alone than ever before. They did not know he was there, and they did not care.
There had, however, been occasional exceptions to these circumstances: when he had met the Turbo Rangers of Earth, and again with the Space Rangers. He had still been his usual enigmatic self, but even that had not been enough. He had grown close to them – too close! Perhaps the pressure of loneliness had finally gotten to him, perhaps at that time he felt he had finally had enough of solitude. Whatever the reason, he had interacted with those Power Rangers on a level that few others had experienced. Why had it happened? What had caused it? Maybe it was their overwhelming courage and inspiring righteousness. Maybe it was the knowledge that they had been fighting for the same goal. Maybe it was even a touch of insanity on his part!
Or maybe it had been Cassie. He could not deny it: the Pink Ranger had somehow managed to touch his heart like no other. There had been something about her that affected him even now. Her captivating eyes? Her radiant smile? Her good heart? Actually it had probably been all three, and then some! To this day he still thought about her from time to time. She had probably long since moved on, but in his situation he could do little else but remember the past. He had grown very fond of Cassie in the short time he had known her, and although part of him still could not believe it, he had the feeling that she had grown fond of him also. And once, just once, he had been tempted to reveal his identity to her…
The temptation had been quickly abandoned. He could do no such thing. He had to conceal himself, for her sake if nothing else. She may have felt something for him then, but if she had known who he was… he could never put her through that. He could never put anyone through that!
So that was why he lived his existence (“life” somehow seemed like too strong a word!) the way he did. Many people depended on him, but he could never allow himself to get too close to them. It killed him sometimes, but then he was the Phantom Ranger – he wasn’t supposed to be able to feel!
And so, it was just that one Earthen quote that he could relate to. Of course, that was not even surprising. The author of that quote was just as unknown and suppressed as he was. Whatever the author’s reasons for existing in obscurity, Phantom had the feeling that they probably were not that different from his own. And there was the irony: the two of them could connect on that level, yet in essence were no closer together than they were with anybody else…
"Imagine not being able to find mention of your kind anywhere.... Imagine having no newspapers, books, helplines, support groups etc. where you can contact similar people. Imagine the feeling that you are the only one in the world living your secret life because it has no recognition, acknowledgement, or identity..."
He could relate, but he did not need to imagine this existence – he was experiencing it! These were the words of emptiness that filled him. This was the only thing that he could ever truly understand.
This was the life of a dead man.
Technically speaking, the entire fic's there. But I'm open to constructive criticism and suggestions for improving and expanding on it. So feedback from anybody is very much appreciated. Hope you like this little piece I call:
LIFE OF A DEAD MAN
***
"Imagine not being able to find mention of your kind anywhere.... Imagine having no newspapers, books, helplines, support groups etc. where you can contact similar people. Imagine the feeling that you are the only one in the world living your secret life because it has no recognition, acknowledgement, or identity..."
He had heard that quote once, a long time ago, and had never forgotten it since. He had no information about who had said those words or when, just that they were by some human from Earth.
He himself was not from Earth. Far from it: he originated from some far away place, many light years away from the beautiful blue and green planet that provided the only settlement for life in the solar system of the Milky Way galaxy. Nevertheless, few words had ever before touched him as deeply as those from this planet.
He was the Phantom Ranger, a defender of good and truth like so many other Rangers both before and after him. And yet he was unlike any other: mysterious, enigmatic, covert. A ghost among the living. A spectre among the visible. An unknown and intangible obstacle placed in the path of darkness.
Years had passed since he had encountered the Turbo Rangers of Earth. He had appeared to them without warning, entering a battle only when the situation called for it, and then fading away again just as quickly. And this was exactly how he had operated for countless millennia. He had his reasons for secrecy, but they never made the reality any easier.
This is why he related to that Earthen quote on such a personal level: “No mention of his kind”? Yes he was used to that: when he assisted, very rarely had those in need ever been allowed to know of his existence or presence. As a result, even with his undetectable but unrestricted access to many information repositories throughout the Universe, finding any mention of his call-sign was a rare and extraordinary event.
“No support groups etc. where he could contact similar people”? Yes he was used to that also: he worked alone, sometimes willingly, other times with a hint of more subtle reluctance. He had long since convinced himself that he was truly unique among the ranks of the Rangers. How could he contact similar people when no such beings existed? Despite all the advanced equipment and expertise at his disposal, he possessed no means of communication that could ever stop him from feeling truly alone. No technology, he felt, could ever be that advanced! And if by some miracle there were others like him out there somewhere, they were probably keeping themselves just as well concealed as he was.
“The feeling that he was the only one in the world living his secret life because it has no recognition, acknowledgement, or identity”? Indeed, he was very much used to that as well. It was because he was so covert in his operations that he rarely received any recognition of his efforts. Alright, it was a fair point: many Rangers fought the forces of evil without receiving any form of tangible reward, but at least they still got thanked for it. Him on the other hand? Even a simple “thank you” rarely resounded in his ears.
So why? When he never even received so much as a thank you, why carry on the battle? Why continue to save these people? Simple: because it was the right thing to do. No other explanation was necessary. In his opinion, the good and innocent was worth protecting. Countless beings of virtue and justice throughout the Universe, yet it never seemed to be enough. He always wished there could be more creatures like that, willing to follow the good path. But in the end he would fight for them all. The forces of evil were dangerous and powerful, and he vowed to stand in their way. Not because he expected rewards, but because he wanted to help.
He had to help, but he had to stay hidden. He had reasons, although after all this time those reasons were becoming lost even to him. Yet he had nobody but himself to blame for this: he had chosen this life of secrecy. He had willingly made those unspeakable sacrifices. The choice not to interact with the world was his and his alone. He watched over them from the shadows, from the concealment of darkness. And when he was out in the open, his power of invisibility negated that freedom immediately. Those were times when he could get so close to people, and yet feel more alone than ever before. They did not know he was there, and they did not care.
There had, however, been occasional exceptions to these circumstances: when he had met the Turbo Rangers of Earth, and again with the Space Rangers. He had still been his usual enigmatic self, but even that had not been enough. He had grown close to them – too close! Perhaps the pressure of loneliness had finally gotten to him, perhaps at that time he felt he had finally had enough of solitude. Whatever the reason, he had interacted with those Power Rangers on a level that few others had experienced. Why had it happened? What had caused it? Maybe it was their overwhelming courage and inspiring righteousness. Maybe it was the knowledge that they had been fighting for the same goal. Maybe it was even a touch of insanity on his part!
Or maybe it had been Cassie. He could not deny it: the Pink Ranger had somehow managed to touch his heart like no other. There had been something about her that affected him even now. Her captivating eyes? Her radiant smile? Her good heart? Actually it had probably been all three, and then some! To this day he still thought about her from time to time. She had probably long since moved on, but in his situation he could do little else but remember the past. He had grown very fond of Cassie in the short time he had known her, and although part of him still could not believe it, he had the feeling that she had grown fond of him also. And once, just once, he had been tempted to reveal his identity to her…
The temptation had been quickly abandoned. He could do no such thing. He had to conceal himself, for her sake if nothing else. She may have felt something for him then, but if she had known who he was… he could never put her through that. He could never put anyone through that!
So that was why he lived his existence (“life” somehow seemed like too strong a word!) the way he did. Many people depended on him, but he could never allow himself to get too close to them. It killed him sometimes, but then he was the Phantom Ranger – he wasn’t supposed to be able to feel!
And so, it was just that one Earthen quote that he could relate to. Of course, that was not even surprising. The author of that quote was just as unknown and suppressed as he was. Whatever the author’s reasons for existing in obscurity, Phantom had the feeling that they probably were not that different from his own. And there was the irony: the two of them could connect on that level, yet in essence were no closer together than they were with anybody else…
"Imagine not being able to find mention of your kind anywhere.... Imagine having no newspapers, books, helplines, support groups etc. where you can contact similar people. Imagine the feeling that you are the only one in the world living your secret life because it has no recognition, acknowledgement, or identity..."
He could relate, but he did not need to imagine this existence – he was experiencing it! These were the words of emptiness that filled him. This was the only thing that he could ever truly understand.
This was the life of a dead man.