Boiling, festering inside the darkness of a lowly prison cell. There he sat, rotting away in a dampened pit. All those who suffered, it didn't matter to him. He was done. Done like all the rest. With a black heart, he would make them too feel the million blades, and the eternal flame of hell.
They would pay. They would all pay. With a thousand voices ringing in his ears he knew all the secrets, all the dark and twisted ways. The power was his, and he had already gotten a mere taste of what power he could now unleash. It burned inside him like a thousand fires, stained his soul like black ink.
The whispers... The whispers... They will not cease... Telling me to kill they are... And oblige I am honored to do.
Yes, yes, they are talking to me. Kill, kill, I must. The world, it has wronged me. No longer will I sit and be a victim. The voices may be driving me, but I had a motive far before I ever heard them talk. Battered and bruised I was. Never wanting, never asking for anything. Used and abused I was, and until now, I have pretended to love every painstaking moment... But no longer. No longer will I sit, and watch, as my life dangles on a Thread before me.
They put me here for punishment, but little do they realise, that this is my haven. My place to be, where nobody can come close, nobody can hurt me any longer. So why do I still feel like I need to get rid of them all? Maybe because they are still out there, and that's a fact undeniable. It rips me apart inside to think that they haven't gotten what they deserve.
... And the voices aren't happy either...
A small Shadow approached. He sat on his cold iron bench, head down, eyes hidden, but watching, and waiting for the figure of whom he knew quite well to approach. The small man slid open the heavy bared door, and stood in the entrance to the small cell.
"So... Here you are. A former master, and loved member of the furious five. What made you change your ways, hmm?" asked the newcomer, raising an eyebrow and lifting his chin.
"Master... What a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?" He asked in a raspy, psychotic voice.
"Answer the question" The master knew there was something wrong right from the beginning. Now he could tell that it was more intense than he had ever imagined. His former students voice was cold and demonic. No doubt there was still a trace of his own personality left, but it had been tainted with the darkness of whatever had, quite literally, "gotten into him". His voice was clearly corrupted with the voices of many others. A demons voice sounds like a million voices talking at once, with an air of raspiness that can only be portrayed as someone dying a painful, strangled death. It holds also the sounds and voices of hell... a million screams, and painful shouts...
"What is there to answer master? You say I was loved, but I felt only hate, and judgement"
"And when did you start feeling like this? You always seemed so happy to me"
"Happy... Heh heh heh... You never know what someone may be hiding behind a mask... What lies they may be saying to your face, and then turning the other direction behind your back"
"Hmmm... That may be true. But I ask again. When did you start feeling like this? Or, since you apparently say that you had always felt this way, a better question would be to ask, when did you figure it was time to take a more... Severe... Action"
"Don't know... It just started feeling right over time... May have been after that mission to the catacombs"
"mhmm" Shifu now knew exactly where this thing had come from.
"I will send an exorcist in to see you tomorrow. Just remember, that we will not leave you here like this" The tiny man turned on his heel and began to walk out.
"Master Shifu" The old master turned at the hip to look at the person from whom the voice was coming.
He looked up, for the first time since he had been situated in that small, damp excuse for a prison cell. Looking up, you could see his bloodshot, black retna'd eyes, filled with hate... And slight... What was it?... Amusement?
"Don't bother... I like the way I am now... You will never change it"
The old master stared blankly for a moment, then turned around again and walked away. And as he did, he spoke.
"See you tomorrow, Crane"
As he walked out of the prison, and the bared cell door slammed shut behind him he heard a gruesome whisper.
"I will never leave..."