~*CITYSCAPE *~
Disclaimer: I no own 'Weiss Kreuz', nor do I own the bishie that be Farfarello. But hey, I can have my fantasies right? ^.~
Author's Note: This is told from Farfarello's point of view, in case you can't tell by the incessant God ramblings -.-;;
Night, sweet night. Devoid of the light and commotion that persists in the daylight, leaving only the darkness and those nocturnal creatures such as myself that scurry about the nooks and crannies of this dilapidated old town. There are no people trying to push orders on me or trying to bind me up in straightjackets- here, the stars are my only companions.
Somewhere, someone is being murdered. Somewhere, a little boy is whoring himself on the streets. There is sin in this town. I can fit right in. I intend to spread sin and blood over this pain-filled world that hate has created. How can people believe the lies society feeds them? That there is hope for the human race, that the future is bright, that somewhere, somewhere far away, a divinity is loving us and shielding us from all things vicious and evil. I learned long ago that things are quite different. There is no gentle, loving God out there- only one divine liar who laughs at us from his Heaven. A puppet master who uses us for his amusement.
.
I smell blood. Following the scent, I am lured down a dark alleyway, one of many that is littered about the city. I see someone curled up off to the side. Upon closer inspection, I find that it is a girl, probably a few years my junior. And from the angry wounds that are engraved up both her forearms, blood surges out onto the cold concrete. Her breathing is slow, and half-lidded eyes gaze at me for a moment, before lazily focusing back into nothingness. "Don't worry, child. I am not here to rob or rape you- just to watch as your life flows out of you like those tears on your cheeks." She pays me no heed. I squat down and stroke her cold, porcelain cheek. So soft. Would it be as tender if there were a scar running down it?
I sit with her as the blood drains from her body. I must say, she picked a fine way to do it- with a knife. That's how I would have done it. She was smart- she chose to escape this sham world. God doesn't like suicides. Some of his children even claim that to take one's life is to suffer eternal damnation. But can this world not be classed as just that? I have experienced emotional pain. And I doubt that any hell could possibly compare to the acidic torment that can eat away at a person from the inside.
And now, her breathing ceases. Blood continues to pool all around her, soaking our clothes. May your soul fly free, girl, for you are one of the few brave enough to soar away from here. You have slapped God in the face.
And perhaps, someday, I shall do the same.
~*OWARI*~
Disclaimer: I no own 'Weiss Kreuz', nor do I own the bishie that be Farfarello. But hey, I can have my fantasies right? ^.~
Author's Note: This is told from Farfarello's point of view, in case you can't tell by the incessant God ramblings -.-;;
Night, sweet night. Devoid of the light and commotion that persists in the daylight, leaving only the darkness and those nocturnal creatures such as myself that scurry about the nooks and crannies of this dilapidated old town. There are no people trying to push orders on me or trying to bind me up in straightjackets- here, the stars are my only companions.
Somewhere, someone is being murdered. Somewhere, a little boy is whoring himself on the streets. There is sin in this town. I can fit right in. I intend to spread sin and blood over this pain-filled world that hate has created. How can people believe the lies society feeds them? That there is hope for the human race, that the future is bright, that somewhere, somewhere far away, a divinity is loving us and shielding us from all things vicious and evil. I learned long ago that things are quite different. There is no gentle, loving God out there- only one divine liar who laughs at us from his Heaven. A puppet master who uses us for his amusement.
.
I smell blood. Following the scent, I am lured down a dark alleyway, one of many that is littered about the city. I see someone curled up off to the side. Upon closer inspection, I find that it is a girl, probably a few years my junior. And from the angry wounds that are engraved up both her forearms, blood surges out onto the cold concrete. Her breathing is slow, and half-lidded eyes gaze at me for a moment, before lazily focusing back into nothingness. "Don't worry, child. I am not here to rob or rape you- just to watch as your life flows out of you like those tears on your cheeks." She pays me no heed. I squat down and stroke her cold, porcelain cheek. So soft. Would it be as tender if there were a scar running down it?
I sit with her as the blood drains from her body. I must say, she picked a fine way to do it- with a knife. That's how I would have done it. She was smart- she chose to escape this sham world. God doesn't like suicides. Some of his children even claim that to take one's life is to suffer eternal damnation. But can this world not be classed as just that? I have experienced emotional pain. And I doubt that any hell could possibly compare to the acidic torment that can eat away at a person from the inside.
And now, her breathing ceases. Blood continues to pool all around her, soaking our clothes. May your soul fly free, girl, for you are one of the few brave enough to soar away from here. You have slapped God in the face.
And perhaps, someday, I shall do the same.
~*OWARI*~