Blessed with a Curse.
He was doing it again.
Refusing to fall asleep, because of the monsters who will tear his guts apart in his dreams. Desperately trying to stay awake, only to avoid those endless nightmares.
Dark circles under his eyes, hazy look. Dry mouth, and shaky hands.
His mind messed up with haphazard pictures, mixture of upcoming dreams and reality. Cold shivers run trough his body, making him feel nauseous again.
Forced attempts of insomnia.
He hates it. It brings nothing but exhaust and makes his life harder. Downing a cup of coffee after another, as a silly attempt to keep his drowsy eyes open. He's afraid, he doesn't want to experience it.
Those nightmares that keep haunting him.
Night by night, he keeps strolling around the dirty yards of the place he used to call home. Believing that the fresh air would cleanse his thoughts, and give him the energy to stay awake. Sitting down on an old bench, he'll just breathe in the cold oxygen, wind messing his long dark blue locks.
Not that he minds it.
Falsely thinking that it'll change one day. That he'd actually manage to stay up, and not fall into the cold hands of his own twisted imagination. He knew it would backfire someday, being insane. A quiet laughter escaped his lips. He'd suffer either way, so what did it matter? In the end, he could never escape the endless cycle of life.
When he dies, he will be born again later. There's no use trying to run from it, it'll happen anyway.
All of the memories will still follow him. All the screams and pain from the past, that he had tried so hard to forget for all his life. The blood, the torture. The twisted smiles of people just as mad as he was.
Maybe it was his punishment, for taking everything for granted. For being greedy, for wanting to have everything.
And then destroy it all.
His drowsy gaze bounced from a star to another, forming pictures in his messed up head. He thought about it every single night the stars were visible. Thought about how everything was just a coincidence, and how earth was merely a grain of sand in the huge universe. It made him smile. People think of themselves as something special, as if someone actually recognized they're existence.
They're still killed as easily as any other creature, so what could possible make them any more important than a mere weakling?
His hand hovered over his right eye, covering it. That's right, he was special. One of a kind, there was no one like him. No one to match him, no one superior to him. They were all just puppets in his eyes, not worth more than trash. It was the truth, after all. For a predator, such useless little creatures meant nothing.
Slowly, without realizing it, his eyes began to shut. His mind blurrier than ever, weird figures jumping around the insides of his head. He couldn't help it, the sweet temptation to just drift to sleep was too overwhelming.
Soon his body was laying limb on the bench, soft breathing overpowered by the cold wing blowing over him. The nightmares began, as twisted and horrid as ever. Damage much worse than reality could ever deal. Lone hair locks draping over his pale face, which was decorated by the slightest of frowns.
He could never escape it, never hide from it. Never get rid of it, nor forget it. It would be there, haunt him for the rest of his life.
And the life after that.
And after that...
And as long as the world would exist, it would still be there. Killing the little humanity he had left, turning his mind into a twisted place, where no one would ever dare to visit.
His innocence was long gone, and so was his sanity.
What was left, was nothing else than a mere shell of a human being, with the mind of a psychopath.
And still, he was afraid.
Afraid of those endless nightmares, that kept tearing him apart.
As afraid as a little child, he once used to be.
End.
Sorry if this is confusing, I just wrote down the things I currently had in mind. Just some silly things that I thought would actually fit Mukuro rather well. :3c
Reviews and the likes are really appriciated~
KHR belongs to Akira Amano.