Damned

There was a clamoring all around him. He felt a strange pulling sensation, as if the ground beneath him was shifting forward. When he pushed his senses to work, he saw that there was a pillar that glowed from between the clouds to the cracks and crags of the graveyard's floor. He was dizzy with sickness, and his chest ached with desperation and loss. Kingdom Hearts was made. What was his purpose now?

He was not noticed among the gatherers staring at the pillar. He knew that he could be invisible if he pleased, if he was quiet, if he pretended that his existence was false like he sometimes believed. He felt the overwhelming urge to take something, anything, a rock, or a splinter of a fallen keyblade, and slaughter the lot of them. That made him smile.

No, he whispered to himself. That would not do anything for him. He had a vision of himself standing amongst the corpses, his skin dyed red to his elbows, and that crushing emptiness would grow to become unbearable. He'd always given himself credit for being patient, being smart, taking his time to assess his enemies before deciding what to do with them. What was he without them?

For a long while he stood, his lips trembling, his legs unsteady, and his eyes feeling moist. Within him, a wave of sadness shuddered through the emptiness. Purpose and life— what did that matter now that he had no use? He couldn't fathom his own mind anymore, nor could he push himself to do what his instincts bid him, to destroy and destroy and destroy and destroy and destroy a little more.

It was weakness. Falling to his knees, he felt his stomach churn, and his heart throb, and his eyes burn. He hated himself. That was a familiar feeling, a familiar hatred that made him wretch. Of all the things in all the contemptible worlds, he loathed nothing more than he loathed himself.

He laughed suddenly, his body twisting and arching painfully, and he felt a grin on his lips when they finally noticed him. He was half blind in agony, and the feeling of his bones cracking and slipping beneath his skin made him heave and laugh some more.

When Ventus's face floated above him, he struggled to spit in his face, and even then the only thing that came from his mouth was darkness, which was acidic and vile against his tongue. It oozed from his lips, and his eyes, and he laughed and screamed. It only made him loathe himself more, hate him, hate them, hate everything.

Their whispers were loud, and their words were harsh against his ears. He heard bits and pieces, things that made no sense. He moved his hands to his face, but found that it did nothing but add to the pain. Was his skin falling into his hands, or was he clawing at his flesh?

"Don't…" Ventus gasped, his hands fumbling to catch Riku's wrist. "Not… no… dead…"

That was him. He was dead. Or was he dying? His existence was confusing. His thoughts were convoluted, and contradictory. He had no place, no face, no name. He was nothing, and he was damned.

He caught sight of Aqua, that girl, that stupid girl who ruined everything. Her face was strange, a clear picture amongst the haze and darkness and pain. Perhaps he hated her the most. Maybe he wanted to hate her the most. He was tired, and sick, so that mattered little to him.

Riku's reply was garbled and tense. When Vanitas pushed himself to listen, he screamed, and the pain caused laughter to bubble once again in his chest. Why did pain fill him with such joy?

"I admire your compassion," Riku spat, his face shifting with his voice's pitch. "But… you care, then… out of his misery."

That was funny. He laughed at that. Put him out of his misery, he said! What a fantastic notion, to save him from himself. It was disgusting, really, because it was Ventus who was feeling for him, who had opened his heart and his eyes, and a realization had struck that they were one and the same, and perhaps he felt the emptiness too, as he felt his joy and restlessness.

Aqua was the one to lean close. She was squinting at his face, his lips moving, but her voice was not reaching him. It was muffled and he struggled to catch even a word of her whispering.

"Insane…" Her voice drifted after that, and Vanitas closed his eyes. As usual, her wisdom exceeded her. Yes, he was crazy, and perhaps that meant this pain was not real. He was frustrated in his own delirium. He was a hollow soul, and he laughed at that fact until the very end, when Ventus shook his head, and pulled Vanitas into a sitting position.

That hurt. He heard his scream, but he felt no joy afterward. Only a spiking agony that shot throughout his body. He slumped, wishing he was stronger, telling himself he was stupid, and weak, and he felt a sense of alienation when Ventus reached out for him.

He could feel it too. The tables had turned, and now he felt the misery and hatred, and thirst for satisfaction. He felt like a weepy child, and he did not understand that. His body moved against him, and when his fingers closed around Ventus's throat, he felt no pleasure in it, it gave him no momentary spark of happiness.

In the end, even when Riku's Way To Dawn pierced his heart, Vanitas felt empty. His pain, and sickness, and hatred were illusions. This was his nature, the faceless monster, Darkness for blood and stone for a heart.

In the end, he still ached for purpose.

Letter D in my 'Dani's Death Alphabet' challenge. Similar to A, in the length and the sense that there is very little dialogue, and a huge emphasis on how the character's thoughts and feelings as they die. I'm a super morbid person, and I am fascinated by all the possible directions a character's death can take, so that's mostly why I'm doing this.

This is dedicated to Celine, better known as Alacquiene, because she's very fond of Vanitas, but since he's pretty much doomed in everything, she can handle his death better than say, Aqua's (who I won't be killing, because she has not made my hit list).

Don't expect much feedback on this one. I consider it very simple, and sort of uninteresting unless you have a thirst for blood here.

Tbh I just like putting Vanitas through hell, it's really fun. He's one of the few characters that you can take a huge amount of liberties with, because you can make him as complex as you want.