( I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin or the lyrics from Get Scared's song, 'Sarcasm'. )
'If you could be the corpse...'
Dragging the halved body behind him, the navy haired man laughed; an eerie sound to reverberate along the pitch-black alleyway and then out onto the streetlight-illuminated street before dying down to erase any evidence of there being anybody around the seemingly empty city. Nobody to see the trail of bright scarlet blood, nor the organs trailing against the concrete from the cut directly down the corpses' middle.
'And I could be the killer...'
Oh, he wasn't simply a killer. No— he was ( without any exaggeration ) a complete, psychopathic madman. His second kill within the past few hours; this one being a random passerby he'd felt needed to be cleaned.
Of course, this was referring to his organs as well.
'If I could be the devil...'
The devil? Ah, even the devil had more grace than him. The devil didn't take strangers and clean their skin like an animal, then sneak the rest of the being into his plans for others' demises.
'And you could be the sinner...'
That's all he was doing; cleaning them of their sins against humanity. At least to him. That's what justified such cruel and unsightly behavior such as he was employing now, dragging the halved body to a solid black car awaiting his return at the back of the alleyway.
'If you could be the drugs...'
Throwing the limp corpse into the backseat along with the other gruesomely dismembered victim from earlier, he soon found himself hunched over with violent coughs racking his body. A fresh coat of scarlet dripped to the ground as the coughing turned to frantic gasps for air between hack after hack of blood from his lungs. Finally, after a near ten minutes of this torturous display of weakness, he managed to calm down to the point of spitting up the last bit of blood in his system, breathing heavily as he stared at the pool of blood at his feet. Groaning, he shuffled around in his pocket and pulling out a handful of pills, shoving them into his mouth without regard to what they were or what their later effects may be.
'And I could be the dealer...'
His silver eyes focused back on the door of the car, his eyes struggling to focus on one place as his vision began to blur. Even the simple task of closing the door grew difficult as his center of balance began to shift, making him sway slightly in place. A soft curse muttered under his breath was followed by him taking a deep breath, exhaling shakily before he turned and began trudging back down the alley, a grin forming on his lips once again as he wiped the blood off his chin. A dealer? A dealer of punishment, perhaps.
'Everything you say is like music to my ears.~'
His grin remaining, he stepped out onto the dimly lit street, soon putting on his emotionless facade as he slowly slid down the wall facing the street, pulling one knee to his chest and allowing his head to hang down. Such was how he normally tricked people; waiting there as pitiful as he could appear until some unfortunate soul stumbled upon him and uttered something along the lines of, "Are you okay?" or, "Do you need help?". It was surprising how many fools would fall for his act. They'd walk up with such worried stares. Offer a hand. Sometimes drape a jacket over the much younger seeming male, sitting beside him, their eyes fixed on the blood staining his clothes with the idea that it was all his own. Human compassion so kindly offered to a human that'd lost all empathy and sympathy towards any being whatsoever.
Ironic, hm?
Author's Note! This used to be an AU roleplay starter for my Rivaille/Levi muse, but I had fun writing it, so if it gets a couple reviews I'd love to turn it into a full-blown fanfic!~ ;w; See you all later...?~
