Wee. Finally got Guilty Gear for PSX! *glomps Sei-ko* I luv her. ^_^ I'll dedicate this fic to her, because she's special like that and needs lots o' lovin'. (Plus, she sent me the game and the GGXX soundtrack XD )
*yawns* a 3am ficcy, hope it's enjoyable enough.
Insanity
by Eike
Ky Kiske was a famed person. Loved by all, hailed by the masses, desired by women (and quite a few men), hated by only those vile things called Gears, Ky Kiske truly had everything he could ever had wanted in life.
Ky Kiske was insane.
That was the only way he could explain any of it anymore. The blood he spilled on the battle field, the blood he suddenly lusted for, the blood that made him feel alive. His newest addiction. He could no longer just fight like a human, like a soldier of God as he had once liked to call himself. Now, now he resembled a devil. A horrendous, vile creature, no better than those he killed, not stopping his attacks until every last one of his enemies was dead, until every drop of blood had fled from their bodies, until he was covered in their blood, until he had tasted it on his lips and saw red in his eyes.
That was considered insane.
He always lost his train of thought these days. When had it started? When had his fighting style changed so drastically? When had he started to enjoy this war? When had everybody forsaken him? When had he stopped caring? When had he last had a complete thought?
When had he gone insane?
His rational mind couldn't piece it together. He couldn't remember ever having thought differently, he couldn't remember not having hated with a passion, he couldn't remember not loving with a passion, he couldn't remember... he couldn't remember anything important.
Was he really insane?
He could compare himself to... to... Sol Badguy. Yes. He killed Gears with a similar passion, and he was still human. Nobody accused him of being... or maybe they did. What did people say about him behind his back? Which of those rumors had Ky not started? Who knew who had started them? Why had they been started?
If he knew the answer, would he be less insane?
Or maybe it was that voice, that damnable voice that whispered in the back of his mind, that caressed him when he needed it and beat him when he needed it and loved him and hated him and did everything he needed but never had the chance for. And what did it ask in return but a blood sacrifice?
Did only the insane hear voices?
But was such a small sacrifice really such a big deal? Nobody would miss it, nobody would notice it, nobody would care, nobody would say a word, nobody would even dare to look at him anymore. Nobody cared enough to notice, nobody cared enough to say anything, nobody cared enough to glance twice at him.
Oh God, he really was insane.
His memory was hiding something from him now. That whisper, that caress, that mental block was keeping him from seeing something important. He fought for control, he fought to catch that thread of something that could save himself, if he had the strength to, of course he had the strength to, he was Ky Kiske, the leader of the damned Holy Knights, he could defeat a mental demon as well as a real one and just because he heard voices and tortured victims -- they weren't even human! -- didn't mean he was any less strong or any less competent and it certainly didn't mean that he was allowed to lose.
Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't insane.
That grasp of memory would help him, wouldn't it? So he fought that purr from inside him, grabbing hold of anything he could. Pain, pain, pain, dear God, how could he have killed in such a way, was he truly a berserker? No, that wasn't him. That was somebody else, somebody who took his shape, his form, his voice, his skill, somebody who warped it all for his sick, sadistic pleasures. He closed himself off to those illusions --- delusions? --and searched further inside of himself.
He wasn't insane. Not really.
He wasn't, because he found that slip of memory that he had so longed for. Recognition from somebody, proof that somebody cared, proof that he cared. Just a small uttered sound that infuriated him to the point of wanting to kill again, and perhaps he had, but now was not the time, now he had remembered and he was sure of it.
He just could not be insane.
Because the insane wouldn't remember a small brush of the shoulder, smoke puffed into his face, or a simple phrase like "You insane now, boy?" that had been the cause of his downfall.
Heh. Proof then. He was fucking insane.
So, all he would have to do was fight it. He would be stable. Because if he became unstable, everybody else would die.
And because he was insane, a part of him just didn't care.
And that part, that part smiled at him, soothed him, reassured him, smiled a bloody smile and grinned the Devil's grin and promised endless promises that only it could fulfill.
You're completely insane.
And that small part that did care, it died much like those Gears had, at the hands of a ruthless killer who had nothing to lose and nothing to gain, a killer whose only joy was to destroy himself inside out.
Ky Kiske was insane.
Weee. Like it? Hate it? Does it make sense? *rolls eyes* I doubt it. I wrote it at 3am. And dangit, I need to stop with these introspective things that last only 2 pages and always always always have one word titles. *sighs* Comments please? Flames too, those make me laugh. Criticism is greatly appreciated. I do want to improve.