A/N: This was previously published on my old account 'memoriesofatimelord'
It's another night, one for me to get my hands on. People are unsuspecting, I, Captain Jack Harkness, am the unsuspected. Each night I commit the most unholy sins imaginable, if only the devil could spare me a few less souls. One thousand souls to see his beauty. That was the offer. Not one more, not one less. But, of course, each mutilated body is just one step closer to seeing my beloved. Tonight, is my last kill... Nine hundred and ninety nine depraved, hateful lunatics buried deep beneath the earth we stand upon, their justice bought by me. Strewn across my wretched path of blood and guts, I've come so very far to find my last target. At this point, I am not aware of the situation I am yet to find myself in. The man I believe to be looking for is strolling down the street, coming closer toward the alley. His foot reaches the opening and swiftly, I reach for his ankle, and throw a hand over his mouth. He begins to struggle in my grip, but this doesn't distract me at all, images of the treasure I am about to receive flashes before my eyes, preventing any feeling of guilt from surfacing. I position my hands around his neck, ready to snap what was left of his god-forsaken life out of him, when I hear a voice. It beckons in my ear and my head fills with images of all the men, women and creatures whose lives I have taken... The looks on their faces as the light left their eyes for the very last time. The thought of the one man left claws at my mind. Distracted by my sudden remorse, my victim has managed to escape my grasp. Now leaving me to notice, I am the last man. Number one thousand. But I couldn't just kill myself, could I? A voice dripping with death itself, starts to taunt me. It was my conscience. Yes you can, and you should, it whispers grisly in my mind. My voice is no different than normal. My blood the same as my victims'. Although I may be lost, I know my way out. My vision is filled with dripping blood, the shadows of death, the screams of every last creature whose lives I ever took.
I get up and rush out of the alley, glancing over my shoulder, I see something lurking behind me. For the first time since I made that deal with the Devil, One thousand souls to reclaim my beloved Ianto, I am afraid. Even after everything I have done, I now come to realise that I am still afraid of the very thing I have become- the dark. The blood, dripping down the walls as I pass, shines a dark red. I notice I am covered in it, or is this just a trick of the mind? You monster, my mind whispers; I don't know whether to agree with the voice, starting to realise what I have been doing, I start clinging on to the last piece of humanity I still conceal. I am a man, haunted by the death of my love. A man who saw his chance to reclaim the love of his life, and took it. Thus, turning him into a monster. I let the lives of those other men and women become a game to me, become humorous, and sadistic. I played then like a game of Poker. Love was my true insanity. One that grips your soul, ripping it from your insides, wrenching your heart, and twisting your veins. To get at you, is what it wants.
I slowly turn around, as I hear the click of a revolver, that I would later realise is pointed toward the back of my head. Thoughts of every delightful memory I still have inside my brain, all coming back to me at the same time. "Goodbye, my love. I tried. I'm sorry I failed you." I whisper, as the dark shadowy figure that I now see clearly, pulls down the trigger. The person I see before me, is me. But how could this be? I close my eyes, and picture Ianto for the very last time. I feel a slight tickle, as the bullet penetrates my skull; in through the front, out through the back. Darkness descends, as I hear the blood expelling from my head, the brains bubbling through the hole in my skull. All at once, I feel all of the insanity, the rage, the hate, the love, and the once happy memories, leave my body.