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Description
Twigs snapped and dry leaves crunched under Dibs feet. The cold-hearted wind whistled an angry song and Raffle huddled closer to his master.
The boy trudged through the snow miserably, though his legs were numb from three days of nothing but ice grabbing at his calves. His stomach was empty, his feet were protesting with every step, and his neck hurt from craning it upward every five minutes, trying to see a light, a building, smoke, anything but the dreaded voot cruiser, that would lead him out of the icy labyrinth.
Raffle sneezed miserably, and Dib did the same. "Bless you," he said to Raffle, between chattering teeth. Raffle looked up and raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'Yeah, you too.'
The wind gave another unfriendly howl, and Dib's stomach growled back in response. Head spinning, throat sore, and body numb, Dib settled into the crook of a tree trunk. It wasn't much shelter for keeping out the wind, nor any ravenous animals, but it was a place to rest ones head for the night.
Vaguely, as Dib stared straight ahead with Raffle tucked at his side, Dib began to wonder what he would do for food. He couldn't eat Raffle; that was just plain savage. He stared down at the top of his dogs head, and Raffles eyes shot up. "Don't even think about it, Dib," they said. 'As if Raffle knew what I was thinking!' Dib thought to himself, shaking his head.
He couldn't eat the bark on the tree (the only thing that seemed remotely edible to a mind numb with cold). He was debating eating his hand, up his arms, and when he finally died, leave the rest of himself for Raffle to eat, when a soft snap got his attention. Raffle's ears shot up as he gave a worried whimper. "Oh relax you stupid dog, it's probably nothing…" Dib assured the dog, patting him on the head. "Or…HOPEFULY nothing…" Dib sighed, remembering the incident with the wolves.  As another snap was heard, Raffle barked loudly. "Raffle," Dib hissed, "Shut up!" 'Perhaps they liked the looked of me', Dib thought, foolishly leaving his shelter, 'and now they actually crave my flesh…'.
Dib stretched up onto his tip-toes and took hold of the nearest branch he could find.  He jumped up and hung there for a moment, putting as much weight as he could on the branch. If he could snap it, he could swing out in defense, had the wolves come back. The winter wind howled. Nothing. Not even soft creak indicating the stress that Dib was putting on the branch. "Oh come on!" Dib chattered, now kicking and swinging his legs. "Why – won't – you – break!" Dib huffed, pumping his legs forward and back. The momentum worked; it broke, tumbling to the snow-cushioned ground with Dib underneath.
"Ow. Ow, ow, owwwwww!" Dib complained, kicking the branch off of him. He was close to snapping, not caring what was watching him in the woods. He was tired, he was hurting, and was missing everything back home.
The snap of a tree branch startled Dib, and he backed up, snatching up his newfound weapon. He was still on the ground, and the cold snow had shoved it way up his shirt, making his body tremble a tad more.
The snaps got louder, closer. Branches began to quiver. A shadow could be seen approaching. Dib's shakes now had nothing to do with the cold. He saw the tall figure made of shadow creep toward him, knew the confidant saunter in which it walked.
Zim.
He emerged from the shelter of the trees, into the natural light the dim half moon provided. The irken smiled at the cowering Dib, who was holding his branch out in front of him, both hands shaking. Dib thought he was looking brave. But Dib's false bravery was only a quivering ball of fear in Zim's menacing, glowing red orbs.
The alien took his time getting to Dib. He walked slowly forward, the confidant smirk he had always worn at the school now a fully fledged grin. At one time, the grin may have annoyed Dib to no end. Now, it scared him, scared him more than anything. That, doubled over with the slow walking, chilled Dib to the bone, to the marrow underneath. Why was he walking so slowly? If Dib could move he could out run the irken, and get to a safer spot. But where would he…go. He wouldn't. That was the idea, the reason Zim took his merry time. Dib could run anywhere he wanted, but he was lost. And Zim would find him, always find him.
"Hello, Dib," Zim said, he smile only growing wider when Dib flinched.
"Zim," Dib spit, sliding back a little farther, finding that Zim was closing the distance between them fast, despite his slow pace. "Fancy finding you here. Out for a stroll?"
"You could say that," Zim answer, a bit too innocently. Something glistened on his waist. Eyeing it quickly, Dib's frightened eyes met Zim's hate filled orbs once more. "I've recently acquired a taste for the…wild life of the forest, Dib," Zim explained, reaching for the hidden item. "I'm going hunting."
Zim unsheathed a knife and examined it in the half moon light. "Recognize this Dib?"
Swallowing, Dib's fear filled eyes flicked to the knife. The handle was a rusted metal color in the moonlight, the end tipped the elegant form of a raven about to take off. The tip, even in the darkness of Zim's shadow, Dib could tell it was bronze. Lyn's precious bronze knife was grasped tightly in Zim's gloved fingers.
"I do," Dib whispered, in awe. "Where did you get that?"
"I found it," Zim answered.
"That's bullshit!" Dib screamed, his fear bubbling into anger for just an instant. He had taken one of Lyn's most favored items, and planned to use it against him. "How did you get that out of her house Zim?" Dib asked. His anger was only slightly marred by his shaking voice.
"Stupid, hyooman! How do you think?" Zim growled.
Dib thought. Zim was vicious. He was advance in everything Dib knew. He was determined. Sometimes, when Dib felt hopeless he'd use the word unstoppable. Was it possible he killed Lyn? That she was in a hospital somewhere, with a wound that couldn't be healed by inferior human technology? The thought froze Dib's blood.
"I'm going to kill you, Dib. I'm going to end you, and make sure you suffer." Zim's voice was ice.
He didn't see him move. Before he could act, Zim was on top of Dib, trying to force Dib onto the freezing ground. The more Zim struggled to bring his opponent down, the harder Dib fought, trying to kick him off.
Something caught Dibs sleeve, preventing him from pushing Zim away. Jerking it free, he lost what balance he had sitting down, his spine roughly on the ice.
But that pain wasn't what made him cry out in agony. Something cold, straight and metallic pierced his stomach. He screamed, the cold sting warming to over whelming pain as Zim yanked the knife out, and then inserted it quickly back into his stomach, next to his new wound. Dib bit his lower lip, fighting the urge to scream again.
The irken was pinning his wrists down with his knees, making shoving Zim away impossible. He tried to wiggle out from under him, but the knife just cut deeper. The handle was nearly touching his stomach. With a cruel smile, Zim yanked the knife out again, and laughed.
The irken sampled the blood on his stolen knife, his worm-like tongue caressing the point. Dib's thoughts raced. His arms were pinned; he couldn't push him off. The alien's legs held his hips in place, so he couldn't squirm away. How could he get out of here? Zim's voice brought Dib back to the current, terrifying reality.
"Having fun, Dib-thing?" Zim taunted lightly, happy with the thought that he was going to get off scott-free. Dib wiggled, trying desperately to separate himself from Zim, and the irken menace laughed. "It is no use Earth-smell. Even if you could get away, and you won't, you could never make it back to you pitiful human town. You'd die trying!" He burst out laughing, and Dib tried again, whimpering slightly.
"Does it hurt, Dib?" his enemy asked, digging the knife into the open wound. Dib screamed, the pain much like a whip of fire draped over his stomach. He thrashed, as much as one could while being pinned down, only making his wounds open wider and the pain less tolerable by the second.
'Think, Dib, think!' Why could he do to momentarily distract Zim? Try to fling snow at his face? No, no that would never work. Tei made snow angles in it for crying out loud. He didn't have much time. He could tell the irken only wanted to play with his toy a few more minutes before discarding it. What would make Zim get off of him? Dib shut his eyes. Things where starting to blur around the edges. He straightened both his legs and whimpered, it barely heard over Zim's hysterical laughing. He kicked out once in frustration, nearly kneeing Zim's PAK in the process. Zim's PAK….without a second thought, Dib kick again and again, each time only brushing the bottom panels. 'Please, dear god, please help me. Help me reach his PAK. Please. Please.'
A popping noise followed by the sound of mechanics was music to Dib's ears. Zim stopped laughing at once. He felt his back with a frantic hand. Feeling nothing there, he let out a panicked yelp. "My PAK!" he screeched, jumping off of Dib. Immediately Dib sat up, quicker than he should have. The burning of his gash doubled, and he bit down on his cheek to keep from screaming. He stood slowly, watching the frantic Zim search for his PAK. Maybe he'd lose it and die in the wilderness. The thought was only happy for a minute. Dib would be short after him. Maybe even before.
Arm wrapped around his torso, eyes flicking away from Zim, he mentally calculated how long it would take him to run, rouse Raffle, and get the hell out of there. He looked back at Zim. He seemed like he was calming down. 'Must have found it, the green bastard,' Dib thought hatefully. The time for thinking through a plan was over. As much pain as it caused him, Dib ran.
It took a lot less time than he had planned, but took a lot more energy, to get to the tree. Bracing his right hand against the tree, and keeping the left wrapped tightly around his torso, Dib took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm his hammering pulse. He could see the blood even in the darkness of his shadow, staining his clothes, his shirt, and the half-inch of snow. Dib's stomach churned at the sight of it. 'Breath, Dib,' he mentally instructed himself.
In. Out. In. Out.
In. . .
On the out, Dib's arm was pulled away from the tree. Violently, Zim spun him around so he was facing him. Every ounce of fury and hatred that his body could hold, up to the brim, now glistened in his squinted red orbs. Dib's fear rose. Zim was more than angry and wanting vengeance; he was infuriated. His eyes shined with bloodlust. Dib's back hit the tree, and he let out a surprised gasp. He hadn't realized he moved.
In a blur of movement, Zim slammed himself into Dib, his elbow crushing Dib windpipe. "You sickening hyooman," he hissed pressing his elbow down harder on Dib's windpipe. Tears sprung into Dib's eyes as he gasped for air, air that was barely coming. "Kick off my PAK, you inferior worm," the irken before him growled, jabbing his three finger fist into the other's stomach. Dib let out a soft strangled cry of pain. It hurt, oh god it had hurt. The tears ran warmly down Dib's cheeks, and he tried to turn away from Zim.
Zim push down harder, and lifted Dib to his full height by the neck. His wound stretched, but Dib refused to make another noise. If he showed backbone, maybe it would scare off Zim. Dib was taken a little higher off the ground, until his toes could barely feel the pressure of the ground beneath him. The fire on his stomach was now in his lungs. He needed air. He glared at Zim, trying to look fierce. Zim smiled.
"You're foolish attempts to scare me off are over now, Dib," Zim whispered. He unsheathed the knife again. Despite his earlier plan, Dib shivered.
"No more accusations in class," Zim hissed, thrusting the knife again into the open wound. This time though, he didn't just push it in deeper. He dragged it downward. Dib screamed as loud as he could. His nails scraped the tree, trying, again, to escape Zim. Zim stabbed again, this time in the place between the shoulder and chest area. Dib cried out in agony. "No more break-ins."
"Please," Dib whispered, as Zim raised the weapon again.
"What?" Zim asked, his antenna perked to listen.
"Please, Zim. Please," he rasped, louder.
Zim paused. "Please?" He laughed. "As it should be; begging for your life to the superior race. Once you die, the pleading will probably come more frequent." Zim pushed the knife into Dib's check and drug it down. Dib winced.
"Please," Dib said again, his voice fading. He was going to die. Everything was going black. He could barely breathe. His head was pounding. His hearing was muffled by the blood in his ears.
"No, Dib-thing. Never." His smile was wicked. Zim raised his weapon. Accepting his defeat, and his fate, Dib closed his eyes, and stopped struggling.
He could hear the metallic whoosh.
He could almost see his mother. . .
A cry of pain stabbed at Dib's tired mind. It wasn't his voice. Dib's eyes snapped open. As soon as he did, he was dropped onto the ground. Cold air, delicious and never unwelcome, filled his lungs. He blinked several times, staring ahead at the scene before him.
Raffle had his teeth sunk into Zim's arm. Zim was screaming a long line of human profanities, prying the dog's mouth from his arm. As soon as Raffle dropped, and Zim turned to Dib, Raffle struck again. He bit down on Zim's leg, hard, and Dib thought he could hear the bone crunch. "Good boy," Dib gasped, still regaining his breath.
Zim's cry of anguish echoed. Dib savored it, taking it in like he air he was gulping into his lungs. The alien had his teeth gritted in agony and Raffle shook his head back and forth, as if it he were holding a rag doll. Dib almost smiled. Almost. He saw Zim raise his good leg. "No!" His voice wasn't strong enough.
Zim's foot connected with Raffle's brown head. The animal let go, and cried in pain. "Damned mutt!" Zim screeched, bringing up the knife. Everything happened so slowly after that.
The knife connected twice when Dib rushed to his feet, and launched himself at Zim. He was air born at five strikes, getting ready for the impact. The eighth strike and Zim was down. The irken wrestled under the human, trying to get free.
Running on pure adrenalin, Dib forced the knife out of Zim's hands and grabbed it. He sliced along Zim's cheek, enraged. "You sadistic, vile, discussing cockroach!" Dib screamed. "My dog! You fucking bastard that was my dog!" he got off of Zim so suddenly it was as if he was yanked off. His dog…Raffle.
"Raffle?" Dib whispered, approaching his dog. The dog's answering whimper was weak. "Raffle," Dib said, kneeling by his dog head. He stared at the damage Zim had dealt; eight neat, deep, messy, and bleeding knife wounds. Dib's eyes went misty. "Oh no…" he whispered. Raffle looked up at Dib. It's almost as if he said, 'I'm sorry Dib. You were…brilliant.' Dib sniffed. "Raffle, you're a good boy." He stroked his dying pets ears. "Such a good dog."
Raffle's breathing slowed after awhile, and his eyes grew cloudy. "Thank you." Dib sniffed and wiped his eyes. The dog's breathe hiss out slowly. His eyes closed. His quickening heart beat merged together as one, and then was lost. "Good boy, Raffle. Good boy. Good boy. Goodbye…" Dib sobbed.
Ten minutes later, the boy staggered out into an opening, his vision blurry, whether it be from blood loss or the tears he'd been shedding non-stop. He didn't care. He had been walking blindly, leaving a bloody trail to follow. After he had said goodbye to his dog, he turned to see that Zim had  disappeared, along with the knife. Now Dib was waiting, dying, and running, all at the same time.
He shook his head, trying to clear the fog. 'Where are you? Dib, concentrate,' he thought, looking around.
As far as the eye could see, there were rocks. Tall ones, short ones, shaped, and flat. Graves. The graveyard in his town. He smiled weakly. "Almost home, Raffle," he whispered sadly.
Dib trudged through the graveyard, grasping a headstone when he got too dizzy. Everything was spinning, and going hazy. His head pounded, and he was completely numb. Dib had to sit down. He needed rest.
'No,' Dib thought wistfully, now accepting this matter. 'I need to give up now. I'm dying.'
Dib leaned slid down a taller headstone, and eventually his head hit the muddy ground. Dib didn't have to turn around to know who grave it was. "It's…ironic, Mom," he whispered weakly. "I made it…to your grave…only to die…of a worn out body." He looked up. Something cold hit his face. Freezing rain. Spring, maybe. Dib smiled. It was sad, full of weakness, grief, and pain both physical and mental. "A…new…beginning…" he said softly, eyes closing. "My…permanent…ending…"

After that, all that was heard was the pound freezing rain over packed dirt, and iced graves.

Description
Twigs snapped and dry leaves crunched under Dibs feet. The cold-hearted wind whistled an angry song and Raffle huddled closer to his master.
The boy trudged through the snow miserably, though his legs were numb from three days of nothing but ice grabbing at his calves. His stomach was empty, his feet were protesting with every step, and his neck hurt from craning it upward every five minutes, trying to see a light, a building, smoke, anything but the dreaded voot cruiser, that would lead him out of the icy labyrinth.
Raffle sneezed miserably, and Dib did the same. "Bless you," he said to Raffle, between chattering teeth. Raffle looked up and raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'Yeah, you too.'
The wind gave another unfriendly howl, and Dib's stomach growled back in response. Head spinning, throat sore, and body numb, Dib settled into the crook of a tree trunk. It wasn't much shelter for keeping out the wind, nor any ravenous animals, but it was a place to rest ones head for the night.
Vaguely, as Dib stared straight ahead with Raffle tucked at his side, Dib began to wonder what he would do for food. He couldn't eat Raffle; that was just plain savage. He stared down at the top of his dogs head, and Raffles eyes shot up. "Don't even think about it, Dib," they said. 'As if Raffle knew what I was thinking!' Dib thought to himself, shaking his head.
He couldn't eat the bark on the tree (the only thing that seemed remotely edible to a mind numb with cold). He was debating eating his hand, up his arms, and when he finally died, leave the rest of himself for Raffle to eat, when a soft snap got his attention. Raffle's ears shot up as he gave a worried whimper. "Oh relax you stupid dog, it's probably nothing…" Dib assured the dog, patting him on the head. "Or…HOPEFULY nothing…" Dib sighed, remembering the incident with the wolves.  As another snap was heard, Raffle barked loudly. "Raffle," Dib hissed, "Shut up!" 'Perhaps they liked the looked of me', Dib thought, foolishly leaving his shelter, 'and now they actually crave my flesh…'.
Dib stretched up onto his tip-toes and took hold of the nearest branch he could find.  He jumped up and hung there for a moment, putting as much weight as he could on the branch. If he could snap it, he could swing out in defense, had the wolves come back. The winter wind howled. Nothing. Not even soft creak indicating the stress that Dib was putting on the branch. "Oh come on!" Dib chattered, now kicking and swinging his legs. "Why – won't – you – break!" Dib huffed, pumping his legs forward and back. The momentum worked; it broke, tumbling to the snow-cushioned ground with Dib underneath.
"Ow. Ow, ow, owwwwww!" Dib complained, kicking the branch off of him. He was close to snapping, not caring what was watching him in the woods. He was tired, he was hurting, and was missing everything back home.
The snap of a tree branch startled Dib, and he backed up, snatching up his newfound weapon. He was still on the ground, and the cold snow had shoved it way up his shirt, making his body tremble a tad more.
The snaps got louder, closer. Branches began to quiver. A shadow could be seen approaching. Dib's shakes now had nothing to do with the cold. He saw the tall figure made of shadow creep toward him, knew the confidant saunter in which it walked.
Zim.
He emerged from the shelter of the trees, into the natural light the dim half moon provided. The irken smiled at the cowering Dib, who was holding his branch out in front of him, both hands shaking. Dib thought he was looking brave. But Dib's false bravery was only a quivering ball of fear in Zim's menacing, glowing red orbs.
The alien took his time getting to Dib. He walked slowly forward, the confidant smirk he had always worn at the school now a fully fledged grin. At one time, the grin may have annoyed Dib to no end. Now, it scared him, scared him more than anything. That, doubled over with the slow walking, chilled Dib to the bone, to the marrow underneath. Why was he walking so slowly? If Dib could move he could out run the irken, and get to a safer spot. But where would he…go. He wouldn't. That was the idea, the reason Zim took his merry time. Dib could run anywhere he wanted, but he was lost. And Zim would find him, always find him.
"Hello, Dib," Zim said, he smile only growing wider when Dib flinched.
"Zim," Dib spit, sliding back a little farther, finding that Zim was closing the distance between them fast, despite his slow pace. "Fancy finding you here. Out for a stroll?"
"You could say that," Zim answer, a bit too innocently. Something glistened on his waist. Eyeing it quickly, Dib's frightened eyes met Zim's hate filled orbs once more. "I've recently acquired a taste for the…wild life of the forest, Dib," Zim explained, reaching for the hidden item. "I'm going hunting."
Zim unsheathed a knife and examined it in the half moon light. "Recognize this Dib?"
Swallowing, Dib's fear filled eyes flicked to the knife. The handle was a rusted metal color in the moonlight, the end tipped the elegant form of a raven about to take off. The tip, even in the darkness of Zim's shadow, Dib could tell it was bronze. Lyn's precious bronze knife was grasped tightly in Zim's gloved fingers.
"I do," Dib whispered, in awe. "Where did you get that?"
"I found it," Zim answered.
"That's bullshit!" Dib screamed, his fear bubbling into anger for just an instant. He had taken one of Lyn's most favored items, and planned to use it against him. "How did you get that out of her house Zim?" Dib asked. His anger was only slightly marred by his shaking voice.
"Stupid, hyooman! How do you think?" Zim growled.
Dib thought. Zim was vicious. He was advance in everything Dib knew. He was determined. Sometimes, when Dib felt hopeless he'd use the word unstoppable. Was it possible he killed Lyn? That she was in a hospital somewhere, with a wound that couldn't be healed by inferior human technology? The thought froze Dib's blood.
"I'm going to kill you, Dib. I'm going to end you, and make sure you suffer." Zim's voice was ice.
He didn't see him move. Before he could act, Zim was on top of Dib, trying to force Dib onto the freezing ground. The more Zim struggled to bring his opponent down, the harder Dib fought, trying to kick him off.
Something caught Dibs sleeve, preventing him from pushing Zim away. Jerking it free, he lost what balance he had sitting down, his spine roughly on the ice.
But that pain wasn't what made him cry out in agony. Something cold, straight and metallic pierced his stomach. He screamed, the cold sting warming to over whelming pain as Zim yanked the knife out, and then inserted it quickly back into his stomach, next to his new wound. Dib bit his lower lip, fighting the urge to scream again.
The irken was pinning his wrists down with his knees, making shoving Zim away impossible. He tried to wiggle out from under him, but the knife just cut deeper. The handle was nearly touching his stomach. With a cruel smile, Zim yanked the knife out again, and laughed.
The irken sampled the blood on his stolen knife, his worm-like tongue caressing the point. Dib's thoughts raced. His arms were pinned; he couldn't push him off. The alien's legs held his hips in place, so he couldn't squirm away. How could he get out of here? Zim's voice brought Dib back to the current, terrifying reality.
"Having fun, Dib-thing?" Zim taunted lightly, happy with the thought that he was going to get off scott-free. Dib wiggled, trying desperately to separate himself from Zim, and the irken menace laughed. "It is no use Earth-smell. Even if you could get away, and you won't, you could never make it back to you pitiful human town. You'd die trying!" He burst out laughing, and Dib tried again, whimpering slightly.
"Does it hurt, Dib?" his enemy asked, digging the knife into the open wound. Dib screamed, the pain much like a whip of fire draped over his stomach. He thrashed, as much as one could while being pinned down, only making his wounds open wider and the pain less tolerable by the second.
'Think, Dib, think!' Why could he do to momentarily distract Zim? Try to fling snow at his face? No, no that would never work. Tei made snow angles in it for crying out loud. He didn't have much time. He could tell the irken only wanted to play with his toy a few more minutes before discarding it. What would make Zim get off of him? Dib shut his eyes. Things where starting to blur around the edges. He straightened both his legs and whimpered, it barely heard over Zim's hysterical laughing. He kicked out once in frustration, nearly kneeing Zim's PAK in the process. Zim's PAK….without a second thought, Dib kick again and again, each time only brushing the bottom panels. 'Please, dear god, please help me. Help me reach his PAK. Please. Please.'
A popping noise followed by the sound of mechanics was music to Dib's ears. Zim stopped laughing at once. He felt his back with a frantic hand. Feeling nothing there, he let out a panicked yelp. "My PAK!" he screeched, jumping off of Dib. Immediately Dib sat up, quicker than he should have. The burning of his gash doubled, and he bit down on his cheek to keep from screaming. He stood slowly, watching the frantic Zim search for his PAK. Maybe he'd lose it and die in the wilderness. The thought was only happy for a minute. Dib would be short after him. Maybe even before.
Arm wrapped around his torso, eyes flicking away from Zim, he mentally calculated how long it would take him to run, rouse Raffle, and get the hell out of there. He looked back at Zim. He seemed like he was calming down. 'Must have found it, the green bastard,' Dib thought hatefully. The time for thinking through a plan was over. As much pain as it caused him, Dib ran.
It took a lot less time than he had planned, but took a lot more energy, to get to the tree. Bracing his right hand against the tree, and keeping the left wrapped tightly around his torso, Dib took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm his hammering pulse. He could see the blood even in the darkness of his shadow, staining his clothes, his shirt, and the half-inch of snow. Dib's stomach churned at the sight of it. 'Breath, Dib,' he mentally instructed himself.
In. Out. In. Out.
In. . .
On the out, Dib's arm was pulled away from the tree. Violently, Zim spun him around so he was facing him. Every ounce of fury and hatred that his body could hold, up to the brim, now glistened in his squinted red orbs. Dib's fear rose. Zim was more than angry and wanting vengeance; he was infuriated. His eyes shined with bloodlust. Dib's back hit the tree, and he let out a surprised gasp. He hadn't realized he moved.
In a blur of movement, Zim slammed himself into Dib, his elbow crushing Dib windpipe. "You sickening hyooman," he hissed pressing his elbow down harder on Dib's windpipe. Tears sprung into Dib's eyes as he gasped for air, air that was barely coming. "Kick off my PAK, you inferior worm," the irken before him growled, jabbing his three finger fist into the other's stomach. Dib let out a soft strangled cry of pain. It hurt, oh god it had hurt. The tears ran warmly down Dib's cheeks, and he tried to turn away from Zim.
Zim push down harder, and lifted Dib to his full height by the neck. His wound stretched, but Dib refused to make another noise. If he showed backbone, maybe it would scare off Zim. Dib was taken a little higher off the ground, until his toes could barely feel the pressure of the ground beneath him. The fire on his stomach was now in his lungs. He needed air. He glared at Zim, trying to look fierce. Zim smiled.
"You're foolish attempts to scare me off are over now, Dib," Zim whispered. He unsheathed the knife again. Despite his earlier plan, Dib shivered.
"No more accusations in class," Zim hissed, thrusting the knife again into the open wound. This time though, he didn't just push it in deeper. He dragged it downward. Dib screamed as loud as he could. His nails scraped the tree, trying, again, to escape Zim. Zim stabbed again, this time in the place between the shoulder and chest area. Dib cried out in agony. "No more break-ins."
"Please," Dib whispered, as Zim raised the weapon again.
"What?" Zim asked, his antenna perked to listen.
"Please, Zim. Please," he rasped, louder.
Zim paused. "Please?" He laughed. "As it should be; begging for your life to the superior race. Once you die, the pleading will probably come more frequent." Zim pushed the knife into Dib's check and drug it down. Dib winced.
"Please," Dib said again, his voice fading. He was going to die. Everything was going black. He could barely breathe. His head was pounding. His hearing was muffled by the blood in his ears.
"No, Dib-thing. Never." His smile was wicked. Zim raised his weapon. Accepting his defeat, and his fate, Dib closed his eyes, and stopped struggling.
He could hear the metallic whoosh.
He could almost see his mother. . .
A cry of pain stabbed at Dib's tired mind. It wasn't his voice. Dib's eyes snapped open. As soon as he did, he was dropped onto the ground. Cold air, delicious and never unwelcome, filled his lungs. He blinked several times, staring ahead at the scene before him.
Raffle had his teeth sunk into Zim's arm. Zim was screaming a long line of human profanities, prying the dog's mouth from his arm. As soon as Raffle dropped, and Zim turned to Dib, Raffle struck again. He bit down on Zim's leg, hard, and Dib thought he could hear the bone crunch. "Good boy," Dib gasped, still regaining his breath.
Zim's cry of anguish echoed. Dib savored it, taking it in like he air he was gulping into his lungs. The alien had his teeth gritted in agony and Raffle shook his head back and forth, as if it he were holding a rag doll. Dib almost smiled. Almost. He saw Zim raise his good leg. "No!" His voice wasn't strong enough.
Zim's foot connected with Raffle's brown head. The animal let go, and cried in pain. "Damned mutt!" Zim screeched, bringing up the knife. Everything happened so slowly after that.
The knife connected twice when Dib rushed to his feet, and launched himself at Zim. He was air born at five strikes, getting ready for the impact. The eighth strike and Zim was down. The irken wrestled under the human, trying to get free.
Running on pure adrenalin, Dib forced the knife out of Zim's hands and grabbed it. He sliced along Zim's cheek, enraged. "You sadistic, vile, discussing cockroach!" Dib screamed. "My dog! You fucking bastard that was my dog!" he got off of Zim so suddenly it was as if he was yanked off. His dog…Raffle.
"Raffle?" Dib whispered, approaching his dog. The dog's answering whimper was weak. "Raffle," Dib said, kneeling by his dog head. He stared at the damage Zim had dealt; eight neat, deep, messy, and bleeding knife wounds. Dib's eyes went misty. "Oh no…" he whispered. Raffle looked up at Dib. It's almost as if he said, 'I'm sorry Dib. You were…brilliant.' Dib sniffed. "Raffle, you're a good boy." He stroked his dying pets ears. "Such a good dog."
Raffle's breathing slowed after awhile, and his eyes grew cloudy. "Thank you." Dib sniffed and wiped his eyes. The dog's breathe hiss out slowly. His eyes closed. His quickening heart beat merged together as one, and then was lost. "Good boy, Raffle. Good boy. Good boy. Goodbye…" Dib sobbed.
Ten minutes later, the boy staggered out into an opening, his vision blurry, whether it be from blood loss or the tears he'd been shedding non-stop. He didn't care. He had been walking blindly, leaving a bloody trail to follow. After he had said goodbye to his dog, he turned to see that Zim had  disappeared, along with the knife. Now Dib was waiting, dying, and running, all at the same time.
He shook his head, trying to clear the fog. 'Where are you? Dib, concentrate,' he thought, looking around.
As far as the eye could see, there were rocks. Tall ones, short ones, shaped, and flat. Graves. The graveyard in his town. He smiled weakly. "Almost home, Raffle," he whispered sadly.
Dib trudged through the graveyard, grasping a headstone when he got too dizzy. Everything was spinning, and going hazy. His head pounded, and he was completely numb. Dib had to sit down. He needed rest.
'No,' Dib thought wistfully, now accepting this matter. 'I need to give up now. I'm dying.'
Dib leaned slid down a taller headstone, and eventually his head hit the muddy ground. Dib didn't have to turn around to know who grave it was. "It's…ironic, Mom," he whispered weakly. "I made it…to your grave…only to die…of a worn out body." He looked up. Something cold hit his face. Freezing rain. Spring, maybe. Dib smiled. It was sad, full of weakness, grief, and pain both physical and mental. "A…new…beginning…" he said softly, eyes closing. "My…permanent…ending…"

After that, all that was heard was the pound freezing rain over packed dirt, and iced graves.