An Empire Will Celebrate

I want to look away, I really do, but my eyes are somehow transfixed on him. The violent convulsions have faded away and given in to pathetic twitching as the once brilliant crimson coloring begins to fade from his eyes. The end is near. He must know it too, because his broken voice hisses quietly, but just loud enough for me to hear it in my close proximity.

“T..take them...*gasp*</I>...away from... *gasp*</I> …Earth. K-keep yourself...a-and Miz...*gasp* ...and Gretchen sa-” He coughs and a warm dark purple liquid spatters against my face. I don’t even bother to wipe it away. Somewhere in the background I can hear my daughter and wife behind us cry out, as well as chuckling coming from all around the hall. Zim’s teeth scrape together audibly as another crackle of electricity sparks from his PAK effectively frying both of his brains.

“Pr..promise me...*gag*</b>... that...you’ll-” He seems to loose all thought for an instant as the electricity continues to cook him. “Syrax...SYRAX wiq-...*gasp* ...mpefeg...xamgrob Dib!!” Apparently his translation chip is done for. God, the fading of his eyes has progressed nearly to black in only a few short moments... I don’t know what he wanted me to promise. But I nod anyway. I wish I could at least hold his hand. But I‘d most likely be killed instantly.

“...s..syrax Di-” Anything more he wants to say is lost forever as more blood bubbles forth from his throat, dripping down his jaw and soaking his clothing. The Irken hangs his head in painful silence for a moment before his now blackened eyes suddenly go wide. I assume that it’s because his vision has finally gone out, but then he begins grasping at his chest. It’s a classic sign of a heart attack in humans... For Zim it means that his atmospheric processor has finally shut down. He begins thrashing in a desperate attempt to get air, his claws leaving his shirt in shreds and ripping open the green flesh beneath. More of his purple life’s blood spatters onto the floor.

“He sure puts up a lot of fuss about something as simple as dieing.”

“But it’s more interesting to watch this way.”

The comments cause something in my mind to snap. A furry I didn’t know I possessed starts bubbling to the surface. Who do they think they are? What gives them the right to play god like this? I tear my eyes off of Zim’s suffering and level both speakers with what I hope is the most loathful and hate filled look either of them has ever received. My anger peaks even higher when neither of them seem moved. But I’m forced to turn back as Zim’s frenzied thrashing beguines to weaken. I hate this feeling of helplessness. I can’t even reassure him that it will stop hurting soon. I can’t... help him. His body stills, curled into a fetal position on the now stained floor.

“I’m so sorry Zim.” I can feel a dampness on my cheeks that has nothing to do with the Irken blood coating them. When did I start crying?

A dull thud rings out as the PAK that had kept Zim alive for 200 years falls to the floor. The skin of his back where it had rested is charred a dark brown and has pealed away some. I fight back the urge to vomit as the smell of his cooked flesh reaches my nose. He died with more honor than I could ever muster. He’d only screamed once...

My silent tears are interrupted abruptly as a loud roar erupts from all around us. Whoops and whistles and thunderous clapping follows as tens-of-thousands of Irkens celebrate. I feel like I’m suffocating at the sheer injustice of it. I can’t move... I just keep staring at his body, still smoldering on the floor. My vision clouds as more tears pool in my eyes. But I won’t let them fall.

I have to be strong...