The Beat .x.

By: Etern

Disclaimer: I do not own by any means the characters and in this case enemies in Kingdom Hearts.

.x.

There is a beat, far off. Smothered.

It is raining.

They are coming.

From the puddles runs black, dark rivulets that converge, form, create, smother the ground, the world. This world that should have no existence at all. More puddles, more rain, more darkness. A cycle that goes on so long as there as night. Puddles that arise so long as there is somewhere, someplace, a heart to beat.

From the puddles, glowing eyes of amber, of yellow, of faux light, emerge. Two cadaverous holes that stare blankly up at the rainy world they have been called to, empty hands stretching into long tendrils sharpened, murderous. Sharp enough to fight, to dig for what they can not have in their empty, ravenous bodies. For what they can only hope to seek. Small antennas twitch, sounding out that single sound above the pouring of the rain, the beat of the thunder. It is another beat that they are searching for, a beat that does not fill up their tiny little bodies, composed of only what they emerged from, dark puddles on the ground. The remains of what once was.

They, with their hollow eyes, their long bear fingers that scrape the ground, scrape the rain, the pavement, the darkness they leave behind them. They, with their forms that drift, search, fight so weakly that if they had anything within them at all, they would have been ashamed. Sometimes, it is almost a blessing that they walk alone, unknowing of their fate. Sometimes, it's a blessing that they don't have mouths so no one can hear their inward cries. Sometimes, it seems like the darkness is enough.

But they, these seekers, these pathetic beings with their desperate fingers, their fragile bodies, their hunched world weary forms, know that it is not. They know that it is not, because they can not feel the rain, beating upon them. They know it is not because no matter where they turn their eyes can't catch the sunlight, can't catch the life.

They can't because they know, they know that everyone wants them dead.

And when they do not hear any beats, only silence, only rain and puddles and sounds that never should be, just as they should never be. In the silence, they know that they want themselves to be dead too, to stop their futile search.

They want to be dead too, so that when the rain falls, the heart falls with the beat of life, they don't have to look up and somewhere, in their hollow chests, wonder where theirs is, that tribal beat, that tattoo against the ribcage, that rush that lets them feel and feel and feel that makes them remember that they have never felt at all, and if they have they can't remember.

As they hear hearts fall and rise, hunched forms bowing under the blows so that they snake along the grounds just a shadow, they wonder where theirs is, that beat, and where it has gone.

And if they can ever get it back.

Shadow against shadow, thin spindles of fingers against similar bodies, and the reflection of emptiness into each waning yellow eye, tells them that they won't. They can't.

It is raining.

There is no beat, only empty falls of water.

There are only shadows.

.x.

Feel free to leave your thoughts. This entire thing was so random I even surprised myself! But really, sometimes I feel bad for the Heartless. After all, it's not their fault that all they want is a heart, and have to fight for it. It's really sad… So this was my tribute to them. Hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading.