Total Drama Porn Story: Heaven Chapter 1

Hi, everyone. You have to read Innocence, and then Dying, before you read this. It is the sequel to both, and it is from Wallys point of view. I would like to credit Numbeh 013 for the middle name “Ikari”, as I read it in his/ her (sorry, I don’t know which!) story, A Juliet Without Her Romeo, which used “Ikari” as Kuki’s middle name. I would also like a special thanks to go to BreezyKuki for being so supportive, and encouraging. So, thank you. Now on with the story!

Heaven

(theme challenge 7, sequel to Innocence, and Dying)

Heaven. It is blank. It is plain. It is nothing compared to radiance of Kukis smile, or the sparkle in her eyes.

Heaven. It is quiet. It is peaceful. It is nothing compared to Hoagies loud shouts of glee when he wins that new video game we bought just last Saturday.

Heaven. It is white. It is holy. It is nothing compared to Abbys ghost tales she tells us in the middle of the night to try and spook us out.

Heaven. It is understanding. It is nodding its head, contemplating. It reminds me of Nigel, except Heaven has no glasses, bald head or bossy girlfriend.

Heaven. I always thought Id land in Hell. I didnt believe, you see. I didnt go to church. I didnt, never, couldnt, wouldnt. It doesnt matter now, why, because, despite it all, Im in Heaven.

Im in Heaven. But Im not happy.

Not happy? In Heaven? The idea cannot seem to wrap itself around peoples heads. They cannot fathom the reason I am unhappy.

Kuki.

I watch Kuki, constantly. I see her grief, her misery.

I want to reach out, I want to tell her, I want to say, I forgive you, Kuki, and I love you, I love you, I love you…

But it is not allowed. I cannot reach out. I cannot tell her. I cannot put an end to her misery.

The days that I am allowed to keep an eye on her is numbered. I rushedly grasp the last few important details.

I wanted to look at her face, see her expression. I wanted to peer at her, inspect every last bit of her, ravish her, take it all in.

I didnt. I tried to comfort myself by telling myself it was for the better.

That would be a lie.

I was doing it for myself. I dare not look her in the eyes and say goodbye yet again.

A couple of seconds, and I grasped at straws, little details, that perhaps could mend her broken heart, and crushed spirit.

But the methods only ensured temporary relief.

The sellotaped heart would soon crack, and the blutacked spirit would soon peel apart.

The little details.

She is in Japan. Mushi is helping her. Mushi is her little sister. But only by a couple of minutes.

A few minutes make a big difference.

But the important thing is that Mushi is helping her. Help. A word I was unfamiliar with and a word that Kuki was born with.

I refused help, while I was alive. I had been proud of it then, but Im not so sure now. Dying changes your view on almost everything.

The joyful days were far and few.

I saw her laugh once.

It made me smile, to see that she was moving on, though there was a itch in my heart that I did not dare scratch I was scared of what would come leaking out.

But I knew.

There was some horrible part of me that did not want her to move on. I was selfish. I wanted her to only think of me and love me. I wanted her never to forget about me. I did not want her to move on.

Perhaps it was that wish that caused the trouble, though I reckon that was only a pebble on a heavy mound, piled on her shoulders.

It felt like the world was leaning on her. One day, a feather would land on that pile, and she would collapse.

Not today, though, today was a pebble.

She was feeling guilty. She felt like she was forgetting me. That horrible part of me celebrated, though the celebration was limited.

She was drowning, sinking, falling.

She needed help, desperately, and fast.

She needed help.

Help I could not give her.

The other angels pity me. They look at me with regret filled looks. I dont want their pity, though it feels nice to have some sympathy, once in a while.

I stumble upon the truth, one day. It felt like a curse, though it was probably a blessing that I found out about it before it happened. I had time to prepare for the worst, because the worst was to happen.

I remember the thoughts running through my mind, the conflicting emotions.

I am shocked; I remember my shock quite well.

I cry, as the grief has overwhelmed me, and I have no choice but to let out my tears, and weep for my beloved.

I throw things. I want to feel powerful and in control again. I dont want to feel small, and helpless, like I do.

I scream. This might have been the first option to do, but I couldnt scream, at least not at first.

I tried to, but I couldnt breathe, and I needed to calm myself down before the scream could rip through my dry and hoarse throat into the still and calm air.

I didnt scream, not yet. I broke down instead. It fills me with shame, to cry like a baby, like a sissy. But I needed to cry. The salt burned my cheeks.

Whatever I did, it didnt make a difference.

The prophecy has already been started.

You cannot not finish it, they said.

I did not believe them. Or perhaps I did, but I did not want to believe them. It seemed surreal, it seemed like a dream, or a nightmare, except it was not night, and it was not a dream, a hateful hallucination, or some illusion. It was real.

As everything begins to unravel, my life flashes, and Kukis life flashes, and everything we did together runs past me, into the dark, deep forest, somewhere where I cant get them back.

Because, Kuki is depressed. Her sister will betray her. She will kill herself. Her parents will be sent to jail. Her sister will go to a mental hospital, wracked with guilt.

I cannot change what has already been foreseen, nor can I change the past, the history.

Because, Kuki will not go to Heaven.

She will not be with me for eternity.

We will not be together, forever.

We will be separated, torn apart, and I will never see Kuki again.

Because Kuki is be going to Hell.

I can only watch as the prophecy fulfils itself, and as the story plays out.

I want to help.

You cannot help.

I want to save her.

There isnt anything to save.

Her heart is a black hole, empty and dark.

I want to fill it up with love.

I need to. It would be good for her, but more importantly, it would be good for me. I need to see that I have not failed her, again. I need to see the person I have sold my heart to.

I need to see her smile, laugh again. I need to see her happy. I need to see her.

Shes overpowering the devil. Again, I pleaded, begged, to see her. Cried, and sobbed to speak with her. Shouted and screamed to stay with her.

The devil granted my wish. His words of advice to me was, Many fear the devil, but the devil only fears his wife. She is more beautiful than any woman, and her voice is prettier than the song of a lark. The devil fears her because she does not love him. She uses him, and plays with him, toys with him. She is more evil than the devil could ever be.

I did not pay attention to his words.

I was going to see her.

When I saw her, I gasped.

She was fire. She was ice. She was a shadow in the night. She was poison in sips, and thrill in my lips. She was there, she was here. She was everywhere. She haunted my nightmares, and visited me in my sleep. I saw in my room, just standing there.

She wore a black cloak, and had a hood. She smiled at me. My heart melted. She lifted me in her arms, and took me away. We flew, we raced, we leapt over ocean and sea, and jumped over the moon and the stars.

We were in love, we were together.

We broke the prophecy.

She was my Heaven. I was hers. Together, we were in Heaven, and that was all that mattered, at least to me.

So, what did you guys think? Good, bad? Please review and let me know! Flames ARE accepted, as long as you have an explanation and an improvement suggestion. x. Smaginn.