More Than You Know
Yearning, aching, twisting in his belly stirs the waters of his dark toiling tides. It's an ever raging sea held behind a crumbling reef of barrier. It waits for an excuse to drown all the unfortunate souls forced to walk the plank, or fall dead from the bright sky. A shark, he is, to snatch you from the surface and wrangle your body to helpless little shreds deep down under the surface.
He is the jungle beast prowling under the screaming shadows hiding his luminescent tangerine eyes from view; because that's the only way you'll be able to spot him in the endless abyss; the shrouding canopy. It is his only contribution to light, and those eyes have seen many things through many men. He rips the roar of a jaguar because he's always hungry, painfully hungry. Sacrifice your heart to feed his inner god; his burning desire.
He wants only one thing, but deep down inside he secretly craves another. It's something he can not fathom or manufacture on his own because he's missing many parts, and others are no longer operational though in his possession.
One in front of the other he walks the road of solitude, of cruelty, of brutality. He took the road less taken by because no one wants to venture a tunnel with no guiding light at the end. But, he doesn't need light. He doesn't want light. He can see in the dark. It's what he was built for beneath this mask of man he dawns on every day. He is a man, however, not human, but very much a man.
He says he wants only one thing, but deep down in his loins that man is lusting for something other.
Tired is even unavoidable to his being. "Obey." He snarls. "Submit." He bays in the pit of his chest. He doesn't have time for an insolent brat that understands not about his reasons, and refuses to accept what is truth. He doesn't have time to be told no. He doesn't take no. He doesn't like no. Xehanort was told no. As much as he loathes it, he will also tell himself no. He keeps it wrapped tight under the covers of his demeanor and the wickedness that drips from his teeth. He does not want any one to be aware. Make them believe he is nothing more than the villain.
All will perceive that he only seeks after one glorious thing, but deep in his mind he tells himself that he can never have that other.
The boy and his friends are nothing but tools to carve his way onto a boundless victory; to etch away at the word and claim the utmost in his large hands. A great object, yes! But, the boy could only help him in giving him what he wanted. Only what he wanted, and he never found that other. Riku could not help him find it, not even inadvertently.
He wanted. He wanted. He wanted.
But he needed more affection than what was known.