Disorganized

Stories that never happened to people who didn't exist

by: Joshua Zediker

Chapter 1: The Tragedy of the Razor Scream

Who am I? Where am I?

The man opened his eyes, looking at the bleak city around him. There were no stars; nothing getting past the thick veil of clouds covering the sky. The air was cold and harsh, as though all warmth had been sucked from it by some unknown force. Shadows moved about on the walls, as though observing the man.

What's going on? Shouldn't I be scared or curious?

He sat up, inspecting himself now. He was wearing a black robe which zipped up to his neck, and had a hood attached to it. He stood slowly and walked over to a window, inspecting his reflection. His crimson hair fell across his left eye, hiding it from view. Beyond that, there were no distinguishing features. He touched the glass. Cold. Like everything else.

Name...My name...it is Xerit.

Yes, that sounded right. Xerit. But how had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was a shadow engulfing everything, himself included. He couldn't remember his surroundings, his past, anyone he knew, or where he lived. But his name was Xerit. That was a start.

He shook his head. Something was still wrong.

Why don't I feel? Where is my fear? My curiosity?

He thought for several moments, then lashed out, his arm going through the window, following the blade of a katar that had appeared in his hand. It wasn't anger that made him do it, but rather the feeling that he would have otherwise.

"This is wrong," Xerit said aloud to no one. "This is wrong. I should feel. I should remember. I should know. What is wrong?"

The answer came in a faint thought. Heartless.

As he thought that word, the shadows around him took form. Small creatures appeared around him, looking as though they were sizing him up. They must have liked what they saw, because Xerit got the distinct feeling they were awaiting orders. He looked to them, analyzing them. His eye moved to one in particular - appearing as a soldier - and he nodded, giving a silent command. The creature responded instantly, attempting to strike at Xerit with its armored foot. There was a flash and a shriek, and the shadow creature vanished, struck through the core by another ornate katar which had appeared in Xerit's hand. As the creature faded. Xerit noticed something. Where the being had died, a heart, torn in half, faded from view. He was sure as he watched it that he could feel something. Jelousy? Longing? He didn't care. It was a feeling.

Xerit nodded. He knew what he had to do.

He gave another silent command, and the other shadows leaping out at him. Any who neared him were torn apart instantly, his lethal blades ripping through them. As he saw and felt more and more of the hearts being destroyed, his insanity deepened. He knew that those hearts were what he needed, what he lacked. That's what kept him from being complete, and therefore they were what he would slaughter for.

Soon there were no more of the heartless he'd called to him. Xerit looked around, trying to find more, and still feeling empty. Even with all the heartless he'd massacred, he still felt empty. Even with all the hearts he'd destroyed, he still hadn't found his own. There had to be a way to fill his void. He started to focus. Perhaps he could summon more.

Nothing.

He kept focusing. There had to be something more. And there was. He discovered another force he could call upon. He called out to them, those like him, those who were empty. The nobodies.

Silver bodies appeared around him, taking the forms of soldiers and assassins. He could tell there were many others, but was unable to call out to them. It didn't matter to him. These ones would do. Now he had to find prey...

The darkness he traveled in dispersed, leaving Xerit to look at his new surroundings. He was in a small city now, known to itself and other travelers as Traverse Town. He inspected the buildings, wondering why this place seemed so familiar. There had to be something he could hunt; something that would release the hearts he needed. He began walking. There was movement around him, laughter coming from restraunts, and talking in the shops. People walked through the streets, paying Xerit no mind. Most didn't even seem to see him. A few individuals walked straight at him, and when he didn't move aside, they passed through him as though he were a mere illusion. He headed down an alley, wandering into a small group of youths. They smirked apparently able to see him, and thinking perhaps that he could be a good target for a mugging. They walked over, one of them grabbing at Xerit's shoulder. He didn't realize that his hand went straight through the man, and having assumed that he just missed he assumed a different position.

"Hey pops," the youth sneered, "ya gotta pay a toll to come through here. One hunded Munny, no less. And a gratuity is expected. So hand it over, and we don't make a mess of you." As he spoke, the others moved around, surrounding Xerit. Each of them pulled a knife, ready to attack. Xerit simply smiled, making the grin on the first youth's face fade from view. "You gonna pay or not?"

"Why should you pay them?" came a voice, going apparently unnoticed by the boys. "They already possess what you lack. Perhaps it is they who should pay."

The youth's face went from anger, to pain, to fear in moments. Xerit's katar was stuck in the boy's chest before anyone could see him move. There was no blood, but the boy fell to the ground, his face lacking any sign of life. The others backed away slightly, seeing their leader drop. Xerit began grinning as his assassin minions appeared in the alley, now surrounding the remaining youths.

"Now you shall pay, instead," Xerit said, smiling. "You shall give me your hearts. Make me whole, boys."

A shriek sounded from the alley, not from the boys but from the sheer speed of Xerit's movement. He dropped them in a heartbeat, their bodies falling onto the concrete. He watched them, waiting. It should happen soon. Where were the hearts? They did not come out of the bodies like they had from the heartless, but he knew these people must have had hearts. He could see the fear before they died. As he waited, he grumbled. something was wrong. The hearts didn't escape from the bodies when he killed them. He shook his head and hid the bodies. He didn't want anyone finding them and hunting him down. He began to wonder if there was another way to extract the hearts...

There was. He realized it immediately. With a single thought, he summoned them, a small militia of shadows. The heartless took form around him, their lust for hearts rivaling Xerit's own. He grinned, knowing that they would do exactly what he wanted. With a silent command, he sent the heartless out on a hunt for hearts. They would not be able to take them immediately. In fact, he would probably be lucky to get one each night. But it would be worth it. He was sure he could find his heart out among them. Once they were off, he began searching for a place to wait.

He spotted a belltower. A good location, he thought. He began heading for it when he bumped into a woman, probably heading home from dinner or some other event. She bowed to him. "I'm sorry, sir. I guess I wasn't looking where I was going..."

Xerit stared for a moment, before hurriedly raising his hood. By the time the woman looked up, his face was completely hidden. He nodded silently in acknowledgement of her apology, and then continued on his way. He wondered why he'd raised his hood as he walked. Something was different about her. Others hadn't noticed him, and some had walked straight through him since he arrived. But somehow she'd not only seen him, but touched him. Run into him, even. There had to be an explanation, but he'd focus on that later. Now he needed to find his heart. He needed to be whole.

Xerit sat patiently atop the belltower as the nights passed, one after another. The heartless - he had discovered - tended to escape his control once they went beyond a certain range, which had hindered his progress in the harvest of hearts. As it stood, only a few had been stolen, and Xerit still did not know how to extract the hearts from the heartless once they were taken. He'd heard rumors of a blessed blade which could destroy the heartless and actually recover the hearts instead of destroying them, but as of yet he'd heard nothing of where this blade may be or who possessed it. He rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger - another meaningless mannerism that he seemed to have retained.

He stood and lept from the belltower, landing on the street below and starting to walk. He looked about as he wandered, his feet taking him down a random street in the city. It was late at night now, so there were no people to pass through him as he walked. He looked around at the buildings and signs, examining them.

He suddenly stopped, staring at a house. There was a twinge in his mind, as though it were trying to feel something but still incapable of it. He could see movement inside. Someone was still awake, though he couldn't make out what they were doing.

As he stared, he felt his control over a distant heartless slip. He couldn't afford a loose one. He tore himself from the house, heading into the alleys and moving towards the stray shadow. He summoned his katars as he neared and rushed forward to the little demon. Without hesitation, he shoved his blades into it, wiping it out of existance.

He never once wondered why, seeing the heartless about to claim a heart, he had destroyed it instead of reassuming control over it. He simply returned to his belltower, ignorant of how he'd delayed his own designs.

He continued waiting atop the belltower. He didn't know how long he'd been there, now. With the inability to feel, he'd also lost all track of time. For all he knew, he'd been sitting and plotting for years now. He still had no idea how to extract the hearts from the heartless, and due to the disappearances, people had become more cautious, staying in at night and slowing his harvest of hearts even more. He grumbled a bit at his failure - another empty gesture.

Then something strange happened.

Spirals of darkness errupted from the ground all over the town. Heartless he'd never seen before tore their way into the world. He tried to exert his will over them, but there was no response. He could only conclude that another force was controling this army. Another like him? Or a senient heartless? He shook his head. It didn't matter to him. This force could ruin his designs in this world. Unable to exert control over the heartless swarm, he summoned his own nonexistant force. Nobodies faded into existance all over the city, beginning a ruthless assault against the demonic heartless which had spawned. Xerit glared down as the conflict began. Unfortunately for his plans, the small war had not gone unnoticed. People were panicing, rushing out of their monster-infested homes and into the fray.

"DAMNIT!!" Xerit summoned his katars and lept down, entering into the merciless and chaotic battle himself. His body moved swiftly among the inhuman warriors, a screech following him as he ripped through the air around him. His arms moved as he rushed about, ripping into heartless as he passed with his katars, and ignoring the paniced and injured humans completely. He had to eliminate them as fast as he could, or at least find the controller.

It didn't take him long.

A giant shadow loomed over the plaza he was in, its yellow eyes glowing as it watched the carnage and chaos below. Xerit abandoned his extermination campaign. He had a new target. He rushed up towards the monster, aiming to stab it through its head. The beast's massive hand lifted up and swung, knocking him off course. Xerit spun in the air and attempted a second charge. The creature blocked again, creating a shield of dark energy. Xerit focused, coating his blades with the same energy, extending them and striking at the shield. He could feel the barrier and blades conflicting, the shield slowly giving way beneath him. It would take a while, but soon he would punch straight through the dark barrier.

Then he heard the scream.

He broke away from the leader, shooting down into the fray and towards the scream, ripping through the heartless and nobodies alike with his augmented blades. He landed, his back to whoever had made the terrible noise. He began fighting off the heartless, creating a perimiter around the subject. The nobodies swarmed around him, following his subconcious command. The heartless couldn't penetrate the wall of nobodies. Until the subject gasped.

"Tier? Oh my god, Tier!?"

Xerit looked behind him, the name and voice ringing in his mind. He stared at he person he'd begun defending.

It was the woman.

The woman who had seen him.

The woman who had run into him.

The woman he'd seen in that house.

He stared in confusion. She could see him still, and she called him by another name, yet he responded. What was going on?

He didn't have long to think about it. Seeing the momentary failure of the defence, the giant above swung his hand down, ripping at Xerit's body.

Xerit looked down at his body. Where the claws had gouged him, his body was dissolving from existance. He looked up at the beastly heartless and glared. He could already tell there was no way to repair his decaying body, but he damn well wouldn't let this thing best him.

Xerit shot into the air, creating a sonic boom as he launched from the ground. He stopped in front of the heartless' face, staring into its eyes. "You think you've won, don't you?" he commented. "You believe that this shattered body cannot harm you. You believe that I'll just give into death." Shadows began to spiral around Xerit as he spoke, the horrible noise of a thousand screams surrounding him as he gathered the strength for one last strike.

The bodiless voices went silent for a moment, and Xerit doubled over, the shadows gathering inside his body. He gave a defiant glare to the giant.

"I will die. So will you all."

The power within him exploded, and his body along with it. Blades of sheer sound ripped through the heartless and nobodies below. The heartless giant let out a silent roar as the blades ripped through it, tearing it to pieces which faded from existance.

As the sound passed, the people of Traverse Town looked about, unsure what had happened. And not knowing that their savior never existed.

Imani Paros walked out to the cemetary the next day. Of all the people who had been hurt in the attack, thankfuly none had died. She was not coming to see someone off. She was coming to say thank you.

She knelt before the grave, setting a flower on it and smiling a bit. "I don't know how you did it," she said to the stone. "I don't know what happened, or what you could have done from beyond the grave, and after that monster took you from me. But I know I saw you last night. And I'm certain you were the one who saved us."

She spoke to the stone for a short time before giving a final prayer and standing. She walked away from the stone, and back into town. Back to her life, which she knew the man in the incription had saved.

Tier Paros. 354-389. A kind soldier and loving husband. May his soul rest in peace.