A short little something to hopefully get me back into the habit of
writing. This is my first Weiss fic, so please take pity, and it's based
on the song "Hallowed Be Thy Name (Shallow Be Thy Grave)" by Cradle of
Filth; the lyrics can be found at the end so as to not give the fic away.
Warnings: Angst, undertones of homosexuality, death. The fun stuff.
Enjoy and review!
Sacrificial Lamb
His execution was scheduled for five o'clock. They hadn't had the death sentence in Japan in a long time, but it was put back into place just for him; his crime was too heinous. The murder of hundreds of people, all of who seemed innocent enough to society, business men who made countless donations to charities, family men, the likes. But he knew better, behind that façade that society was blinded with, he knew about the drug deals, prostitution rings and kidnappings. He knew the truth of how those men had truly gotten their money and good names.
He had been their dog, doing as they commanded when they commanded. He had been chosen to be their pet assassin because he had wanted revenge, and he had been willing to do anything to achieve it, including sell his soul to the devil himself. And so he had.
Now, however, he had outlived his usefulness. After all, what use was a dog that no longer obeyed its masters to Kritiker? None, as he had found out.
When he had first arrived in his cell - When exactly had that been? It was hard to determine the passing of time there, but he was assuming it had only been hours. Hours that had felt like lifetimes. - he had been hoping this had been nothing but a bad dream. That his being abandoned by Kritiker was a nightmare, that his sister finding out the truth had been nothing but a delusion, that his joining Weiss was just a flight of the imagination, that his entire life since the explosion was nothing but a hallucination.
Oh how he had wished, but it had served no real purpose. He had then tried to pinpoint the exact moment his entire life had gone wrong. Once again he found too many possibilities, every one of them after the death of his parents. Perhaps it had all gone to hell the moment he had been born?
He had eventually calmed down, accepting his fate. He knew he would die one day or another, one way or another. As a killer you would have to prepare for death, for it loomed around every corner, but he had never expected to die like this. He had never thought he'd feel so alone and so small, so helpless. He never thought he'd simply give up and give in. But he had, and that was that.
He was simply too tired to resist anymore. He had grown so fatigued of living this thing he was to call life, of coming home covered in the blood of others. He could no longer stand to hide whom and what he was, could no longer stand to lie to his sister. The charade had been slowly killing him inside, a slow painful death worse than anything he'd handed out before, and it had finally succeeded.
He was so tired, and yet he refused to allow himself to sleep. He had succumbed to the oneiroi but he had woken up screaming and in tears. No dream could be more nightmarish than his own life story. He refused to cry, and therefore refused to sleep, for fear that he might awaken once more sobbing.
He had come to accept his fate, and maybe perhaps even embrace it. Death would allow him to escape his personal hell, and maybe he'd be allowed to accede to something greater than this earth-bound life. This wasn't the end, only the beginning of the possibility of so much more.
He had seen no one other than Manx since arriving here. What was it that she had said? "God be with you?" He had to chuckle at that. God? There was no God, not for him. He refused to believe that a god had existed and had damned him from the start. Or had even God abandoned him? He'd been left by all mortals, why not immortals and supreme beings as well?
Yes, he'd been abandoned. His sister had not come to see him, though he hadn't expected her to. The look of disgust on his face had been enough to warn him that he'd never see her again, though whether the look was from his choice of a profession or his choice of a lover, he knew not. Both possibilities had hurt in the beginning. That she would be disgusted by the lengths he would go to for her, it would mean that it had all been in vain. He had become a dog for her, to pay for her medical fees and to make the world a safer place for her. That she would be disgusted by his choice of a lover, well, that had hurt as well. Had she believed that he did not deserve love and happiness? That his entire life should be dedicated to her? Or was it the mere fact that he had chosen another man? Or another assassin who was also man? He had finally decided to stop torturing himself over this and accept it, she was disgusted with him, and probably due to both choices, and there was nothing he could do about it. He would not feel remorse this far into the final act.
His lover. He wasn't sure what to think about him, so he had tried to avoid thoughts of his teammate. Had he forsaken him as well? Or was Kritiker preventing him from coming somehow. He knew that had his lover really wanted to see him, he would have found a way, but he refused to consider that. He knew that both of them should have been punished, after all they had both been stubborn and had not followed orders to stop sharing each other's bed, but he didn't not want to contemplate that. He had wanted one good memory to bring with him to the grave, and thoughts such as those would have only dirtied it.
He wondered if Manx realized that she too was nothing but a dog, but he had doubted it. One day, one day when she was deemed useless to Kritiker, she would realize that she too had had strings, just like her little puppets in Weiss had had. Would she accept her fate as he had? Understanding that this was the only way to reach something better? Or would she deny it, clinging on to her illusions till the end? He wondered.
END
Lyrics taken from Dark Lyrics
Hallowed Be Thy Name
[Iron Maiden Cover]
I'm waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime
Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time
Cos at 5 o'clock they take me to the Gallows Pole
The sands of time for me are running low
When the priest comes to read me the last rites
I take a look through the bars at the last sights
Of a world that has gone very wrong for me
Can it be there's some sort of error
Hard to stop the surmounting terror
Is it really the end not some crazy dream
Somebody please tell me that I'm dreaming
It's not so easy to stop from screaming
But words escape me when I try to speak
Tears they flow but why am I crying
After all I am not afraid of dying
Don't believe that there is never an end
As the guards march me out to the courtyard
Someone calls from a cell "God be with you"
If there's a God then why has he let me die?
As I walk all my life drifts before me
And though the end is near I'm not sorry
Catch my soul cos it's willing to fly away
Mark my words please believe my soul lives on
Please don't worry now that I have gone
I've gone beyond to see the truth
When you know that your time is close at hand
Maybe then you'll begin to understand
Life down there is just a strange illusion.
Warnings: Angst, undertones of homosexuality, death. The fun stuff.
Enjoy and review!
Sacrificial Lamb
His execution was scheduled for five o'clock. They hadn't had the death sentence in Japan in a long time, but it was put back into place just for him; his crime was too heinous. The murder of hundreds of people, all of who seemed innocent enough to society, business men who made countless donations to charities, family men, the likes. But he knew better, behind that façade that society was blinded with, he knew about the drug deals, prostitution rings and kidnappings. He knew the truth of how those men had truly gotten their money and good names.
He had been their dog, doing as they commanded when they commanded. He had been chosen to be their pet assassin because he had wanted revenge, and he had been willing to do anything to achieve it, including sell his soul to the devil himself. And so he had.
Now, however, he had outlived his usefulness. After all, what use was a dog that no longer obeyed its masters to Kritiker? None, as he had found out.
When he had first arrived in his cell - When exactly had that been? It was hard to determine the passing of time there, but he was assuming it had only been hours. Hours that had felt like lifetimes. - he had been hoping this had been nothing but a bad dream. That his being abandoned by Kritiker was a nightmare, that his sister finding out the truth had been nothing but a delusion, that his joining Weiss was just a flight of the imagination, that his entire life since the explosion was nothing but a hallucination.
Oh how he had wished, but it had served no real purpose. He had then tried to pinpoint the exact moment his entire life had gone wrong. Once again he found too many possibilities, every one of them after the death of his parents. Perhaps it had all gone to hell the moment he had been born?
He had eventually calmed down, accepting his fate. He knew he would die one day or another, one way or another. As a killer you would have to prepare for death, for it loomed around every corner, but he had never expected to die like this. He had never thought he'd feel so alone and so small, so helpless. He never thought he'd simply give up and give in. But he had, and that was that.
He was simply too tired to resist anymore. He had grown so fatigued of living this thing he was to call life, of coming home covered in the blood of others. He could no longer stand to hide whom and what he was, could no longer stand to lie to his sister. The charade had been slowly killing him inside, a slow painful death worse than anything he'd handed out before, and it had finally succeeded.
He was so tired, and yet he refused to allow himself to sleep. He had succumbed to the oneiroi but he had woken up screaming and in tears. No dream could be more nightmarish than his own life story. He refused to cry, and therefore refused to sleep, for fear that he might awaken once more sobbing.
He had come to accept his fate, and maybe perhaps even embrace it. Death would allow him to escape his personal hell, and maybe he'd be allowed to accede to something greater than this earth-bound life. This wasn't the end, only the beginning of the possibility of so much more.
He had seen no one other than Manx since arriving here. What was it that she had said? "God be with you?" He had to chuckle at that. God? There was no God, not for him. He refused to believe that a god had existed and had damned him from the start. Or had even God abandoned him? He'd been left by all mortals, why not immortals and supreme beings as well?
Yes, he'd been abandoned. His sister had not come to see him, though he hadn't expected her to. The look of disgust on his face had been enough to warn him that he'd never see her again, though whether the look was from his choice of a profession or his choice of a lover, he knew not. Both possibilities had hurt in the beginning. That she would be disgusted by the lengths he would go to for her, it would mean that it had all been in vain. He had become a dog for her, to pay for her medical fees and to make the world a safer place for her. That she would be disgusted by his choice of a lover, well, that had hurt as well. Had she believed that he did not deserve love and happiness? That his entire life should be dedicated to her? Or was it the mere fact that he had chosen another man? Or another assassin who was also man? He had finally decided to stop torturing himself over this and accept it, she was disgusted with him, and probably due to both choices, and there was nothing he could do about it. He would not feel remorse this far into the final act.
His lover. He wasn't sure what to think about him, so he had tried to avoid thoughts of his teammate. Had he forsaken him as well? Or was Kritiker preventing him from coming somehow. He knew that had his lover really wanted to see him, he would have found a way, but he refused to consider that. He knew that both of them should have been punished, after all they had both been stubborn and had not followed orders to stop sharing each other's bed, but he didn't not want to contemplate that. He had wanted one good memory to bring with him to the grave, and thoughts such as those would have only dirtied it.
He wondered if Manx realized that she too was nothing but a dog, but he had doubted it. One day, one day when she was deemed useless to Kritiker, she would realize that she too had had strings, just like her little puppets in Weiss had had. Would she accept her fate as he had? Understanding that this was the only way to reach something better? Or would she deny it, clinging on to her illusions till the end? He wondered.
END
Lyrics taken from Dark Lyrics
Hallowed Be Thy Name
[Iron Maiden Cover]
I'm waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime
Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time
Cos at 5 o'clock they take me to the Gallows Pole
The sands of time for me are running low
When the priest comes to read me the last rites
I take a look through the bars at the last sights
Of a world that has gone very wrong for me
Can it be there's some sort of error
Hard to stop the surmounting terror
Is it really the end not some crazy dream
Somebody please tell me that I'm dreaming
It's not so easy to stop from screaming
But words escape me when I try to speak
Tears they flow but why am I crying
After all I am not afraid of dying
Don't believe that there is never an end
As the guards march me out to the courtyard
Someone calls from a cell "God be with you"
If there's a God then why has he let me die?
As I walk all my life drifts before me
And though the end is near I'm not sorry
Catch my soul cos it's willing to fly away
Mark my words please believe my soul lives on
Please don't worry now that I have gone
I've gone beyond to see the truth
When you know that your time is close at hand
Maybe then you'll begin to understand
Life down there is just a strange illusion.