Farfie's Thoughts



Sitting in his cell, a regular occurrence for this Irishman, Jei

Farfarello was thinking.

Thinking about his life, how he'd gone from a good little Catholic

boy to a killer with no remorse. Or maybe everyone just called him

a killer with no remorse because they didn't know him, always

judging his appearance with no thought to whether he had a soul or

not.

He paused, absentmindedly licking his knife. Did he have a soul?

He'd never thought about it. Ah, well. The times he got locked up in

his cell from now on would be quiet reflection time, until he found

something better to do, like terrorise the other 3 members of

Schwarz.

He'd been raised a Catholic. What made him hate God so much that

he killed his family? Possibly the fact that he'd been told so many

times that murder was one sin that could never be forgiven.

Farfarello wasn't sure he believed that, but he decided to test the

boundaries. After that, it seemed that he'd acquired a taste for

blood. And at the age of 12, too. So young, they'd said. Curse his

Catholic beginnings! Then earlier this year, he had killed a nun. A

nun! The scorn he received for this did not affect him. He was jaded

to the point where he couldn't feel pain, testing the boundaries yet

again with every slash of his wrists and arms and wherever else he

decided to mutilate himself.

Why was it that everyone cringed whenever they laid eyes on him?

Could it be the fact that he wore an eye patch? The reason for it.

The private Catholic school he attended had archery as one of the

subjects. One of the other students had decided to make it hell for

young Farfarello, who had changed from the public schooling

system to private at the age of 8, and was unaccustomed to the

snobbish ways of private school students. His silver hair made him a

target for ridicule. The boy, James, had purposely aimed an arrow

at his head. Farfarello saw it coming, but it was too late. His eye

had already been pierced by the arrow. The doctors could do

nothing for it, and already he blamed God for losing the use of his

eye. Was he justified? He couldn't say. Revenge was his main

objective, though. He had tracked James down only last week,

gouged out his eye and killed him. An eye for an eye. A saying that

had been around for years. It never made sense until now. Sweet

revenge, but he felt almost guilty. He had been incapable of feeling

guilt for some time, why was it that now he started to feel it? He

couldn't feel pain, pain and guilt go hand in hand, so he shouldn't

feel guilty. Maybe living with someone like Nagi, who felt guilt at the

best of times, was not the best thing for him. Nagi's guilt was

rubbing off on him. He hoped that wasn't the case. It would ruin his

reputation.

But what did he care about reputation? He was labelled a

psychopath. What kind of reputation was that to have? Crawford

always said that the best reputation to have was none at all. That

was good coming from Crawford, almost funny, seeing as he had

the biggest reputation for being fairly efficient in disposing of

people. So that would bring Schuldig, Nagi and Farfie under the

same label, being connected to Crawford and all. Did he hate

himself for being with Schwarz?

Medication. Another thing that bothered him. The others were

always at him to take it, and for what? If the ever thought to give

him a chance, he might just willingly take his medication without

complaint. Instead, they just shove it down his throat. It was a

miracle he hadn't killed them yet for it.

His pondering was cut short by Schuldig, opening his cell door. Time

for another mission. It would have to wait. [pic]