Howdy! Or *cough* Good day.

This is my first fanfic with Amnesia so I hope you like it! English is not my first language either so I'm sorry if there's minor mistakes. Tell me and I'll correct them!

Enjoy!

He was not happy.

Even though his goal had been accomplished, there was no reason to be relieved, breathe out, let the air leave his body. There was no reason to let his lips curl into a smile. There was no reason to go back to London, live there, work there or maybe marry a lovely maid and even start a family.
He still felt no euphoria. And the reason of it? He wanted to know it so badly.

Didn't Daniel want to kill Alexander, even though he did so? Was his revenge really worth it? Had he done it the right way? Had the nightmare ended once and for all?
He surprisingly knows the answer to that question, and only that question that surprisingly he had asked himself and have a memory and answer for it of his own experience.

The horrible nightmare...it had not ended.
Or, if you put it another way, yes it indeed had, the monsters were gone and Alexander hadn't opened the portal. But for Daniel...was there a suppose for him to be happy? All he had wanted was revenge...but really, revenge wasn't all, was it? He felt no satisfaction to any foolish act he had gone through, even though it was the only thing he could have done in his position.

He couldn't doubt that he felt less worried and used, but still, there was that stone in his heart that hadn't been removed. It was stuck there like there was a thing he had missed through the dangerous and frightening mission of his. He had put his hand to his chin and meditated. The possibilities would be the murders he committed on all the innocent people, but that was a burden he had to live with, even if it was the worst he could remember from his memories. Maybe he shouldn't have thought of revenge or kill the baron at all? Would that have given him more peace to his soul? And less guilt?

No, that was doubtful. Anyone in his place would have done the same. They would have made up to everything that wasn't entitled rightly. But, he couldn't shake of the thought; could he had done anything...what was the word...different? The orb for example. Couldn't he just have thrown away the piece of devilish offspring? Well, not clearly an 'offspring', but there really wasn't a better, or a matter of, word to describe that piece of rotten garbage. It was sparkling like the devil greeted and seduced him by looking at the orb. It did too. He had that urge to touch it, feel it, embrace it. It had been a must. His human needs had betrayed himself. As the popular wise words used through centuries; The heart is more treacherously than anything else.
He fully believed that. He could tell that by his own experience. Which wasn't something he felt proud of one bit.

If running back to the thoughts of what he could have done different; maybe he could have declined Alexander's invitation, as he thought of doing first? But no, he jumped to conclusions. He couldn't have thought it through properly until he let a 'yes' slip pass his lips and it was not available to return his words. Alexander was a stubborn yet wary man. He had learnt that by the time they had worked together on the orb. And...
Daniel swallowed. He started to violently itch is neck and stomach; as well as arms, legs, everything he could get at. He couldn't believe it. He had behaved like a murderer, a monster, which he hadn't behaved as, rather been. That was not all either.

Alexander gave him all the blame. The worst part is; it was true. Alexander hadn't killed them. He hadn't took away their lives. He hadn't brutally murdered them like a psychopath. No, no, no.
It had all be Daniel's doing. Even though Alexander had ordered him to do it, Daniel could have spoken up, saying that it's horrible and illegal, but his selfishness of saving himself from the shadow hunting him, had taken over his mind and he felt an addicted urge of following the orders. He had acted like an egoistic psychopath. He had forced himself, still he hadn't won anything out of it. No profit. Alexander made him look like a murderer and took the reward of Daniel's work for himself.
Come to think of it, Alexander had behaved more like a monster than him, if you thought it the psychological way. That egoistic scumbag. He was a devil in human form.

Daniel tried to remind himself over and over, that Alexander was the monster. He was the blame behind it all. Daniel had even tried to let out a chuckle to convince himself: 'It's not my fault. Alexander forced me to. He's the traitor, not me.'
He still couldn't think of Alexander being behind all the blame. He just couldn't. He could have spoken up. He was a selfish bastard, just like the baron of Brennenburg. He had been so full of himself that he currently let the world surround him, not thinking of anything else around him, the desperation devouring him completely.

Daniel started to cry. The eyes got filled and in an attempt of wipe the tears away, like he had done countless times already, he couldn't. Right now, he just couldn't. This time of thinking through everything had left him in heavy agony. This was the last straw.
He cried violently. Tears dropping down in his hands, on his stomach, even in between his legs. He was sitting down on his knees so that was not a strange matter.

A few minutes full of agony and sadness in his heart, he sobbed and wiped the last tears of his daily cry away with his filthy hands. Suddenly, his eyes became dry. A short thought struck him. For a couple of minutes he stared at his well-shaped, most used parts of his body, still filthy hands.
"These", Daniel murmured in thought. "It's their fault. Every little bit is." He clenched both the hands into fists as anguish started to replace itself with with a sensation of being furious. Furious still remorseful. He started trembling, his small, strong young body. Even though he was a full-grown man, he felt like a little child who had just been lectured by it's mommy, for yet milder crimes, like stealing toys from an other child. Daniel kept on shaking as he tried to position himself in that role. He was the child, he had stolen toys and was lectured by the mommy; the remorse itself, for more heavier and evil crimes, such as his murdering deeds. For that stupid ritual and for fleeing from whatever it was that was chasing his soul, following him while he was in fear since May. The day he found the orb along with his men.
He clenched his head. Voices ordering him illegal and taboo things, for a single human being, started to take over.

He stood up instantly, so fast his legs started to ache from sitting in that position for god knows how long. His feet hurt as he stumbled though the dark little dungeon-alike room and started to work himself up. After a while he got used to walking; it didn't hurt as much anymore, but his fists started to ache by the muscles in the hands. He tried to open his fists, but to no avail. Some kind of force kept it that way and he didn't care less of opening them later.
His paranoia still caused him to hallucinate monsters walking towards him. Their growl almost hurting his eardrums. The monsters had been his worst fate of bumping into. He knew that too well. He'd rather cut up his own wrists than meet such a repulsive creature ever again in his whole life.

Ignoring the pain in his feet, he began to walk determined. He didn't know where he was going, but a lighter place would be nice. It perhaps would make him forget his hurtful memories and nightmares for a while. Even the shortest minute would help.
He got to the floor upstairs. He was still in the castle and he hadn't met a monster since he murdered the bag of scum. A slight relief it was, but the feeling of all those horrible crimes he had committed still gnawed his psychotic flesh.
He damned himself of the thought. He wasn't going to think of that the whole damn time. He was on his way up on the purpose of calming himself down, not to gnaw on himself more.

The floor upstairs had a slight tone of light in it, but it still brought the feeling of being abandoned. Daniel was just about to take another step for a lighter place, when his foot's touch reached something beneath him. Something sharp. His quick reflex made him remove the foot, something dark red appearing on it. He moaned of exhaustion. "I'm already psychologically damaged, why must my physical ability get some too?" he whined. However, underneath him was a sharp knife. He bent down and picked it up, clenched it hardly around the blade when he very well knew that was not the real purpose of the weapon.
He stared at it for a few seconds before, hesitantly, licking on it. He started unsure, his face bringing a light frown, but the more he licked on it his eyes got more lidded; as well as cloudy. He licked it faster, a heavy blush appearing on his face. He had no idea what he was doing, but acting like this actually made him feel better, making him forget his sadness for a while.
"Blimey, that tastes soo good..." he purred with addiction.
He flinched when a thought hit his mind. He actually thought licking up blood from a knife was a...turn-on? He shook his head quickly. Seldom. This was a knife he was talking about. It was meant for murdering purposes. But still...
He stared at the half clean knife from blood. Even though it was not meant for sexual desire, he felt a heavy lust, of death, and getting erected, to it. It was indescribably. His mind must have taken more damage than he thought. He face palmed. "I can't believe this..."

He kept on licking the blade until it was clean from blood, salivated all over, as well as Daniel's lips. "Godness...what is wrong with my own thinking directions of lifestyle?"
Daniel caved in, falling onto the floor, and the sound echoed through the hallways, never letting go of the knife. He felt a lump in between his legs and he groaned with a lack of satisfaction. "No...it can't be..."
He slowly unzipped his pants and took out himself. Wangling with it, he tried to keep his mind far away, but it didn't work. He was fully erect and he got to do something. But at the same time he didn't want to pleasure himself in a time like this. The time of trying to fulfill himself of relief, not arousal. But as he kept on holding the groin and slightly groan he couldn't resist. But at the same time he felt like he deserves pain and fulfilling at the same time.
An idea struck him. He glanced at the knife in a couple of seconds, and he started to look...calm. Freed. From the prison of agony.

He took the knife...and let the blade stroke along the shaft. A the start, it felt like no pain, but no pleasure either, but it started to build up when he kept repeating the action faster. He moaned quietly. "Ah..." A small flood of blood made pathways down the edge of the member. He began to press the blade in between seconds at the member, and it started to hurt, like he was going to tear apart.
But what it gave him made him satisfactory. That he could get rid of the erection and getting pain at the same time from being cruel. Nothing could beat this record of being contented.

After sweating bullets from the mix of pleasure and pain; getting rid of the psychological pain only, and gaining the others, he felt himself ready of going further.
He started to stab the member, trying hard not to scream from pain. Butterflies in his stomach of becoming happy, he felt the blood spurt out in small spurts. He breathed heavily and he felt a small bit of arousing pleasure. "Ahhh...haaa...ah..." he moaned, not in the strength of screaming available. What was happening to himself was horrible; aggrieving himself out of physical pain and pleasure. How the hell was that supposed to help his damaged mind?
The glans of his was bleeding, and he kept stabbing until his genital had gotten rid of completely. A few minutes later, he moaned in pain.
"What the fuck have I done to myself?" Daniel talked loudly to himself. "Dammit! How is this helping getting rid of my grief?"

He clenched his chest where his heart was located and he didn't feel the stone leaving it. 'It hurts everywhere, especially here.' was the thought that made him uneasy.
How was he going to let it go away? The pain hadn't left him, the pathways of finding better content, he couldn't think of. He got to...no...
He felt empty of tears, instead he caught a sad look plastered on his face. "It's the only way out." he stated with so much sadness it could not be described in words.

With aching pain, he walked further and found a thick rope. He knew where he should go. Off to the torture rooms.
He went to the room where the rapist had been cut in half with a saw. His head pounded and he heard the man's groaning in pain in his head. He always felt torturing someone was wrong. No one deserved to die that way. Not a single soul, no matter what they did.
He walked straight to the room and found the big poles holding a plank, with stumps from the ropes that had been torn off when the victim had died. He avoided the whole time to look at the demonstration painting on the left to him. He felt himself hulk of the knowing what the painting described.
The blood from in-between his legs had dried and he felt himself fall unconscious any minute.
But he didn't want to. He wanted to finish something first, and that quickly.

He tied the rope around the plank, took a box and placed it below. He brought himself onto it, whilst holding one of the hands on his aching once-member. With one hand he tightly tied the rope around his neck. He felt a last smile curl his lips before he kicked the box away.

No one heard from Daniel, the young man who came from London, since then. For the better.

He was gone for good.

Gone forever.

A/N: Well, what did you think? Don't be afraid of reviewing me, I love getting reviews! ^^

But please give me constructive criticism and don't be mean to me ;_;