AN:Helloeveryone!ThisismyfirstPOTOone-shot!It'satragedy,butwhatever!Donottakeanyoffensefromthisstory!AndIdonotownthePhantombySusanKay.IonlyownAkuma!
Akuma 1843
I traveled more frequently in a week than most men and women do in their lifetimes. I would travel from one town to the next in search of permanent residence. However, there is no such thing for a devil's child. Hence my namesake: Akuma. It was literally the Japanese word for demon.
If I'm correct, I was born somewhere in Germany of the year 1832. I find it sad really. I was born with a minor deformity of the eyes. My eyes were two colored, brown on the left and an eerie, pale white on the right. My parents, being religious, had assumed that I was possessed at birth, and that some sinister and ominous fiend had taken their child's soul captive. They had taken me to be exorcised by the father of the nearest church. After throwing holly water onto my form and carving a cross upon the right side of my face, the father told them that I was lost to the fallen angel and that God had abandoned me. This influenced my mother and father to leave me in a forest with nothing but a letter explaining why I was there, a blanket, and a mask to conceal my eyes.
A gypsy woman, named Ginus, had found me and discovered my little disfigurement. She took me under her wing and educated me in Grammer, Mathematics, Alchemy or Science, and the languages of many different countries. In turn, I helped her with her money needs by cheating random men out of their money in a poker game. After I had nothing more to learn or to offer, she too, abandoned me.
After wandering for a few days or so, I stumbled upon an opera house. For a moment, I had lingered outside of the theatre. The music coming out of the magnificent building enchanted me and left me teeming with curiosity. When I entered the building, my life was forever changed.
The manager of the theatre was also the composer of the music. He had found me wandering the building and asked me what I was doing there. After years of studying the French language with Ginus, I immediately understood what the overseer had asked me.
"I had been wandering around outside until I heard such beautiful music coming from this theatre. I was enchanted and felt the urge to acquaint myself with the composer and musician." I had explained.
The man, who was introduced as Jules Émile Frédéric Massenet, became slightly surprised at my formal and intelligent way of speaking and asked me if I wanted to learn how to read, write and play music. My answer was yes even before he asked me. In the next few years, I studied the beauty of music with Monsieur Massenet as his apprentice. But after my fourth year studying with him, he finally questioned my reason for wearing the mask. When I revealed the reason, he too became frightened and abandoned me on the streets.
I believe I was only 8 years old when I began living and traveling on my own. No matter what town I went to, it was always the same for me. Someone would take me into his or her home, and when they discovered my disfigurement, they left me on the streets to die. After moving from each location and living with many different people, I had yet to be named.
After my first year living in such a state, I came to resent the world and my eyes. From that point on, I made it my goal to bring suffering to anyone who would abandon me and to never take my mask off. The next home that abandoned me was set aflame by a 'fire that was left untreated'. It went like that until the villagers of each town started to piece together my leaving the village and the misfortunes that were set upon the families that abandoned me. Eventually, word of 'a child with a pale eye that caused misfortune to any family that took him in' reached neighboring towns and countries. A foreign couple that had taken me in had called me Akuma. That was the origin of my name and how the current me was born.
I resided somewhere in Spain when I encountered a traveling gypsy camp. I disliked gypsies especially since a traveling caravan had taken the gold I had borrowed from past hosts. I starved for the next few days because I couldn't buy food. After that incident, I vowed to stay away from any gypsy caravans as much as I could. No matter how alike I was to the gypsies, I could never accept the status of one.
I watched as the gypsies set up their camp under the tree that I rested in. I ignored their chatter as they set up their tents. None of them particularly interested me, until my eyes caught a white mask among the crowd. I believe he was my age, or at least a little bit older than me. A white mask covered his face, but he was tall for his age. I watched as he set his tent up and retreated into it. He was an interesting one that was for sure.
I had never seen anyone that was forced to wear a mask like I did. Was he deformed like I was? I wondered. I snuck over to a tree that was behind the boy's tent and began to climb down until I heard the sound of women gossiping.
"The boy that lives here… What was his name?"
"I wouldn't care if I were you. But if you must know, we call him 'the Living Dead' during our little show."
"So, he's the little freak that made voices appear out of nowhere."
The boy in the tent had heard that. I could tell by the nervous shuffling of blanket sheets. I had heard enough and decided to voice my own thoughts from the cover of the trees. "It's called ventriloquism, ladies."
Both women gasped aloud and the boy in the tent stopped shuffling. "W-who's there?"
I chuckled darkly and with clear elocution shouted out. "Who I am is none of your business. But, I do not appreciate your improper harassment of this boy. Why do you go around judging others? Take a long look at yourselves: two ugly, wretched women with horrid personalities and clothing choice. Now, run along before I become even more infuriated."
The hags ran away in ire dread as I sent a pebble rocketing in their direction. I laughed in delight at the fear on their faces. They won't mess with the boy ever again.
For the next week, I kept an eye on the little gypsy camp and the boy. He talks in his sleep and through those mumbles I discovered that his given name was Erik. He was talented in music and illusions and his deformity was not something that I could be afraid of. Half of his face was sunken, giving a look of a skull with skin. He had it better than me. I couldn't hide my eyes no matter what kind of mask I would wear. Erik just needed half a mask to hide behind.
The people of the camp feared him that is why I continue to watch him right now. I also kept an eye on Javert, the ringmaster of the gypsy camp. He was a menace and had an ulterior motive to having Erik in the camps. I had learned about a year ago that men like Javert were to be taken care of before they set their eyes on something. Men like him were greedy, desperate, and are abominations.
I watched from the trees as Erik began to walk after a naïve girl called Dunicha. I glared at her as she screamed when Erik approached her without his mask on. I watched as he tried to help her and how she threatened him. I snarled at the girl as Erik fled to his tent. Jumping out of the trees, I scared the life out of her.
"W-who are you?" Dunicha demanded, backing away from me.
I grinned in a way that a hunter would to its prey. "I am Erik's keeper. What you have done has caused my ward to flee this camp. He no longer has a home because of you." I began to retreat into the shadows again, my dirty hair making me look like a demon from hell. "Keep an eye open at night, Dunicha. If you don't, it might be your last moment." With that, I ran in search of Erik.
I found him in his tent packing his bags hurriedly, not paying any attention to his surroundings. A low feral growl escaped my throat when Javert approached Erik's tent and reprehend him. I heard struggling and decided to peek into the tent. My eyes, for all they have seen, had never wanted to witness such an act.
Javert was above a shirtless Erik, with his belt off. I watched as Erik struggled, before launching myself at Javert, dagger drawn. Erik's eyes widened as he saw me tackle Javert off him. I handed him the dagger. "It's your choice, Erik."
He gripped the dagger tightly before turning to Javert. I turned around as the dagger plunge into Javert's gut. I turned around just as Erik finished mumbling and cleaning the dagger that I gave him. He handed me the dagger and I returned it to its sheathe "Who are you and why did you help me?"
"I would find it obvious, Erik. After all, I did help you get rid of those two women the other day." I tilted my head to the right.
His eyes widened, but quickly reverted back to their normal size. "So you're my guardian angel?"
I nodded happily. "I resided in this forest when this caravan set camp here. I originally planned to move on to another location, but when I saw you, I thought that I would help you."
"Why? Because I was an abomination that needed pity?" he sneered.
I frowned. "No, I-…"
"Then what made you want to help me?"
I sighed, "I'm only doing this once." With that, I proceeded to pull my mask off, to show him the scars upon my face and to show him the disfigurement of my eyes. "In a way, I'm just like you. I was abandoned at birth and taken in by countless people that also feared and abandoned me. I guess I just wanted to speak with a person that had the same problem as I did."
He was shocked. I could tell that he was due to his silence and open gasp. "I didn't think that anyone had the same burden as I did, but I do believe you have it slightly better than me, my dear."
I chuckled darkly before grabbing his hand and leading him out of the tent. "The others will discover Javert's disappearance soon, so I suggest we get moving."
He stopped walking. "We?"
I turned around to look at him. "You said that murder was only another art to master right after you killed Javert, right?" He nodded and I grinned. "I may not look like it, but I've been living alone for the past 3 years. I know a thing or two about surviving off the streets, if you care to listen."
He nodded eagerly. "Please teach me, Madame!"
I smiled brightly. "Of course, but there is no need to be formal. I am younger than you, if I'm correct. Just call me by my name, Akuma." I stuck a hand out for a handshake. Erik looked at a loss for what to do, so I gently took hold of his hand and entwined it with mine to shake. "It's a handshake, Erik. People do it when they make a deal. And they do this when they greet people." I stood onto my toes and gave him a small peck on each cheek.
I watched in amusement as he fingered the spot where my lips met his cheek. His face glowed red and a small smile had found its way onto his face. I turned to walk off a little more, before I felt a hand in mine. "I like saying hello."
Akuma 1856
I taught Erik all that I knew before we had to part ways. He was determined to travel to Persia and I had my sights set on the land of my birth. Before he left, we made a promise to meet again in Boscherville, France after we had done what we wanted to do. Boscherville was in fact, the town wear he was born. I knew not where I was born, so we couldn't meet in Germany. It's been more than 10 years since I last saw him so I might as well go to Boscherville for a visit.
In the past thirteen or so years, I had developed a sort of illness and had begun to cough up blood. The doctors that I've seen had all said that there was no cure to the disease I had. I hope I'll be able to find Erik again. There's some thing that I want to tell him. But as I walked through the gates of Boscherville, my vision became black and I collapsed to the floor, unable to breathe. This wasn't the way it was supposed to end for me. I needed to tell Erik that… that… I choked, tears coming to my eyes as I raised my hand to the sky. My eyes closed and I was met with a never-ending darkness.
That I love him.
