Big Boss inner thoughts Attempt 2
Arsenic Cerebellum
No one could ever understand the pain and horror I've seen. The carnage, blood and waste of human life. Horror bonds people, it bonded me to Eva, which proved to be a mistake...and it bonded me to Boss...maybe that was another mistake. Does this make me a fool? I never believed in love, but is it really a feeling? Or is it an ideal turned propaganda?
Life is full of enough chaos, turmoil and ideals making it a muddled mess undecipherable by man. No one can truly tell us why we exist...why we're here. It's almost funny, how wide the spectrum of life ranges, from the lowest of the low, to the highest of the high, no one's situation is identical. Perhaps this is why we fail to understand each other, or maybe I'm just making excuses. We are all responsible for our own actions...our own destiny.
I regret...nothing. There is no room for regret, guilt or fear. I can't- I can't feel these emotions- I shouldn't, but I'm only human. I must never linger or reflect on them let alone admit them. I must remind myself that I'm a machination of war, trained to destroy. And I've destroyed so much, can I atone for it? Why do I feel guilt for so many of my actions? Why is it only fleeting? Such things are a poison that courses in my blood, eating at my nerves, wearing on my hypothetical soul.
Disgrace...
Shame...
Disgust...
I feel these poisons too, slithering under my skin, making sweat bead at the back of my neck. It shakes my focus, an impediment I can't avoid. When will it all end? When will I be free?
My hands are forever stained with the blood of my enemies, the blood of those that crossed me. Blood will never wash away, it coats my mind with it's stain, luring me away with a deviant grasp. I am defiant, reluctant to accept my official kill count. How can I when everyone lies? The world is full of lies and deception, blood, violence and facade's. Nothing is true, or real, nothing and no one can be trusted. They're all snakes in the grass, waiting for a situation they can manipulate for their benefit. Humanity is repulsive that way. Sometimes I can't help but question our meaning for existence in this hell. The fleeting sparks of beauty do not make up for the shit I've been through.
I let my fingers slide over the cool metal of my gun, the Smith and Wesson I stole off a guard, not a great piece, but not a bad one either. The ridges and grooves are soothing, relaxing. I can feel my mind unwind. My guns always put me at ease, something about the cold steel, the smell of gunpowder. Quietly, I switched off the lamp and pulled the thin blanket up to my chest. My head fell back as I nodded off, my hand still cradling my piece, an old habit I never wanted to break.
Old habits die hard, just like Heroes, it's villains that have all the fun, I thought before I entered that subconscious of my mind.
A/N: This is my second drabble for big boss and it will probably be my last. He's an interesting character to toy with but it's just not grooving with me at the moment, so i'm moving on to other things. I hoped you enjoyed the inner thought drabbles, R&R, and I"ll see you in the next story. Much love to my readers.