It's easier to die than to live. Right? Death couldn't hurt as much as this. Human emotions, they just drag you down. Humans have human emotions. Humans are scum. So I'll be more than human, and throw away emotions. That way I'll be strong.
Because the strong live, and the weak die. The world revolves around this one law. Every single thing in life is there to help the strong. The weak are food, and that's all there is to it.
With emotions gone, there's more room for strength. I don't have emotions, so I have a lot of space for strength. I can always be stronger. And already, I'm strong. And stronger. I'm almost the strongest.
It's raining, and the water flowing down is blurring my vision. But my senses are acute, and I can hear, smell, feel, taste everything around me. Mostly, I'm feeling blood. Red, sticky, bittersweet, a hazy aroma. But the water is diluting the blood.
I'm looking at the people that I've killed. It doesn't matter, because they're weak. I'm strong. They deserve to die, but I get to live. Even if life hurts, it's what I do. Because life is for the strong, and I'm strong.
The sword in my hand is lowered, and the blood on it is being diluted by the water. It's dripping off in rapid succession. And I smile. I smile and I smile, and I'm hardly aware of it. That smile is my lifeline, because without it I'll crack. So I smile.
I lift my head, because my head is starting to hurt. The water streams down my face and my eyes, and they don't sting anymore. Why were my eyes stinging? But now it's over, and my smile becomes wider. I'm strong, and I live. That's why I smile.
It's cold outside, but inside I'm colder. It's a good, strong coldness. It helps me kill. I lower my head and I can feel the gathered drops of water run down my nose, my lips. The rain tastes salty. How interesting. Maybe it's the blood.
The blood. When I see the blood, my senses become a little hazy, but I shake my head, and it's gone. The strong feed on the week, blood keeps the strong alive. Blood is good. That's what I'm taught, that's what I believe.
So why do I feel that life hurts? Because, actually it does. Am I really more than a human? Becomes sometimes, I feel that maybe I'm not strong. Maybe I'm weak, and maybe I'm worse than a human.
But of course, that's a silly thing, because I'm strong.