Title: Remebrance
Rating: T
Word Count: 485
Pairings: None
Summary: He didn't need to remember. The prince's past need not be re-lived.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
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Rivulets of blood trickled down the pale skin, following every line, every curve down his shaking body.
Knives littered the bed, the light of the dim lamp reflecting specks of brightness onto the wall. The figure hunched over, watched over blankly by the multitudes of stuffed animals around the room, their lifeless button eyes shining in the light. Ripped tails, torn-off heads, stuffing overflowing like blood. Everything seemed focused on the lone person in the room.
A breathless groan tore through the still air, ripping into the silence. The boy convulsed, arm straining to stop him from flinching as the blade dug into his skin. Dragging the knife slowly, almost lazily down his arm, unseen eyes narrowed as they watched the cool metal carve a red path. Blood welled up in the fresh cut, red and gleaming as it began to stream freely down his porcelain skin. Trickles ran down the sides of his arm, dripping slowly onto the soft covers, staining the lavishly embroidered surfaces with rapidly spreading red splotches. His breath hitched only the slightest as the invading tool was sharply yanked out. Then it was discarded onto the covers, a soft clink as it bounced off another one of its kind.
Belphegor reached down for another knife, hand blindly feeling around the plush fabric for one that was not stained with his blood. Stopping briefly, he surveyed his hands- smeared with crimson, a stark contrast to the pale skin underneath. Pushing his oversized sleeves further up arms, another sharp instrument already gripped between thin fingers, the self-proclaimed prince tugged up the hem of his shirt and pressed the point on the barely-healed skin of a previous cut.
Suddenly, Bel sat up, mouth opening with shock.
"N-No…" he cried, knife sliding through slack fingers as a myriad of memories assaulted him. His mother… Father…
He was remembering again.
The memories he had kept suppressed throughout his life. An assassin didn't need emotions. A cold blooded killer didn't need to be held back by the sins they committed in the past. The blank eyes of his dead parents stared at him, so vivid it was as if the two people were in the room. The parents that he killed.
Lifeless eyes.
Just like the toys, strewn around the room.
Discarded, unneeded.
"I-I don't need you," cried Bel, weakly throwing the nearest dislocated bodypart of a toy at the spot on the carpet where the ghosts of his past lay, "A prince doesn't need anyone like you in his life."
If I hurt myself, I can hurt them. Make them go away.
With that, he tore into his skin with more vigour, focusing all his attention on marking himself. Jerking his weapon erratically, abstract lines were etched deep into his skin. Beautiful, bloody art.
Blood dripped like tears. The tears Belphegor would never shed. Not over insignificant things like that.
I don't need to remember.
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-Panda's little corner-
Currently Playing: Spiralling- Keane ("But everytime I reach for you, you slip through my fingers. Into cold sunlight, laughing at the things that I had planned")
Rahaha~ Panda wrote this during one of her more.. Depressed moods. I wasn't planning to upload it since it wasn't quite up to my normal standards of writing (I think) but thought hey, this could become some sort of a companion piece to my previous story, Mercy. Maybe like an aftermath? -shrug- it's up to you guys to decide.
Panda thinks the whole point she wrote this was to get across that even insane (genius) killer princes like Bel have their sane if not, human moments. -nervous laugh- Once again, it's up to you guys to decide whether he does or not. And in this fic, no- Bel doesn't go insane when he sees his own blood. Just one of those (rare) sane moments hey?
Hope you enjoyed reading! reviews/criticsm is most loved! -prepares bunches of balloons and tiara-shaped cookies-
