I guess I excel at writing ficlets. Well anyway, it's short so it shouldn't take you that long to read it.
Disclaimer: Weiss is Not mine, wish it was. Then we'd get to see a lot more shirtless assassins running around. It belongs to its repective owners, and I'm not getting anything out of writing this - except of course my own satisfaction. Oh, and the name was inspiried by a book series - Blood Jewel series by Anne Bishop (I love that story!).
Reflections in the Twisted Kingdom
No! I'm not! I've never, would never do something like that! I'm not that kind of person. I love chocolate chip ice cream, children, and spending days at the beach. I'm also the best goalie the J-League has had in ten years. No one like me could ever do something so horrible. I get squeemish at just the thought of killing a fly. Every life is precious. That's what I was taught. That's what I believe.
But I did, and I do. When did I change? Was I alwasys this way, and just didn't know it? I'm not like that. I'm doing this for the innocent ones that didn't get to fight back. Yeah, that's right. Those little children that couldn't lift a finger to protect themselves. I always image their faces when I need the courage to continue.
In the heat of battle, thought, their faces always illude me. That's when I see the faces of those that have fallen before me. The horror written in their eyes never leaves me. They haunt my dreams, when I can't run anymore. They alwasy find me, no matter where I am. I've learned to loose them, but it is very difficult. The others would notice if I picked up a constant drinking habit, and I takes me a long time to collapse from exhaustion. I think my record for staying up is one week. I was tripping over my own feet before I was forced to go to bed. And still they followed me. I swear I saw them watching me, out of the corner of my eyes, but that's impossible.
They are dead. I'm sure of it. I saw the life draining from their eyes. I felt their bodies grow cold.
But that wasn't me. I didn't do that. That was Siberian. He's the assassin. He kills for a living. He knows the exhilaration of watching flesh tear and blood flow.
I'm just the washed out soccer player, working in a flower shop, trying to make ends meet. But I just can't ignore the blood stained hands hiding in these plain gardening gloves any longer.
I couldn't have done it, but I remember their names.
I was never there, but I see their faces.
I'm the boy next door, but I killed them all.
I never meant any harm, but I can't take it back.
I wish I could take it all back, but I enjoyed every minute of it.
~Owari~
SoLeo
Disclaimer: Weiss is Not mine, wish it was. Then we'd get to see a lot more shirtless assassins running around. It belongs to its repective owners, and I'm not getting anything out of writing this - except of course my own satisfaction. Oh, and the name was inspiried by a book series - Blood Jewel series by Anne Bishop (I love that story!).
Reflections in the Twisted Kingdom
No! I'm not! I've never, would never do something like that! I'm not that kind of person. I love chocolate chip ice cream, children, and spending days at the beach. I'm also the best goalie the J-League has had in ten years. No one like me could ever do something so horrible. I get squeemish at just the thought of killing a fly. Every life is precious. That's what I was taught. That's what I believe.
But I did, and I do. When did I change? Was I alwasys this way, and just didn't know it? I'm not like that. I'm doing this for the innocent ones that didn't get to fight back. Yeah, that's right. Those little children that couldn't lift a finger to protect themselves. I always image their faces when I need the courage to continue.
In the heat of battle, thought, their faces always illude me. That's when I see the faces of those that have fallen before me. The horror written in their eyes never leaves me. They haunt my dreams, when I can't run anymore. They alwasy find me, no matter where I am. I've learned to loose them, but it is very difficult. The others would notice if I picked up a constant drinking habit, and I takes me a long time to collapse from exhaustion. I think my record for staying up is one week. I was tripping over my own feet before I was forced to go to bed. And still they followed me. I swear I saw them watching me, out of the corner of my eyes, but that's impossible.
They are dead. I'm sure of it. I saw the life draining from their eyes. I felt their bodies grow cold.
But that wasn't me. I didn't do that. That was Siberian. He's the assassin. He kills for a living. He knows the exhilaration of watching flesh tear and blood flow.
I'm just the washed out soccer player, working in a flower shop, trying to make ends meet. But I just can't ignore the blood stained hands hiding in these plain gardening gloves any longer.
I couldn't have done it, but I remember their names.
I was never there, but I see their faces.
I'm the boy next door, but I killed them all.
I never meant any harm, but I can't take it back.
I wish I could take it all back, but I enjoyed every minute of it.
~Owari~
SoLeo