Hi. Chapter 2. Here ya go. Why am I speaking like this? I. Dont. Know. Also, I would appreciate any support, i live off support, without it i die. Im a support-vampire. I also died and came back to life XD. Happy Future Easter.


Soon this baby was two. And, marvelously, he could already walk. Or, atleast, for a few feet before falling over. The baby continued to learn. At night, he would hunt through the orphanage in search of books. Or anything with written language on it. Even if he couldn't read it, he would absorb it. Memorize it for later. For when he learned what those words meant, what they were. In his tiny little head, he surmised that all words have a certain ring. This "ring" is different for everybody. But, there is usally one word that would ring so well, that it would sound like the most beautiful instruments. "Death" was the best sounding word, the best instrument, to this baby. However, after that first time he said that word, he never said it again. Instead, he repeated it in his head. Trying to wrap his thoughts around it. THe discover the "tune" it had. If that "ring" is an instrument, then the meaning would be the "tune".

The babie's favorite story was contained in a small black book, that looked like it has gathered dust for years. Untouched, this book was a very mysterious object to the baby. 'Why', he would wonder, 'was this book so untouched? Unloved?' Since he always wondered about at night, never in the day, he decided to investigate furthur. Upon reaching the book, in its unusally high spot, by dragging, or rather, pushing with every muscle in the boy's body, he fianlly reached the bookshelf it was perched on. Up the boy climbed. He fell several times, each time was pretty painful, but eventually, he made it to the top of the chair. From there, he easily reached the book. Or atleast, knocked it off the shelf, unto the floor elicting a very loud noise. He jumped off the chair, hurting his legs and knees, grabbed the book, and carried it away from this place before someone woke up and adventured over here.


Upon finding a nice, quiet corner, the boy looked at the cover of the book under the moonlight. "Death of Love". Death. That word made a nice ring as the boy said the name of the book out loud. The author of the book was from somebody called, "Kuro". That was the only word that was also on the cover. The boy figured that this "Kuro" either had no last name, or was withholding it. Either way, the boy praised "Kuro" for writting a book about "death", or whatever was in this book that had death on the cover. The rest of the cover, was black with the edges turning white. The words were also in white to help distinguish them from the background. The boy flipped open the first page.

"Little, little butterfly!
Oh, so full of hope and love!"

"This little flying insect,
Held great love inside of its small frame!"

"The boy loved its wings, antennae, everything!
The boy wanted to love it forever."

"The boy hatched a great plan,
To make this butterfly immortal."

"The boy loved its wings,
So he plucked it from the butterfly."

"The boy loved the wings indefinetly,
But, in the end, he was not satisfied."

"The boy loved its legs,
So he tore them off the butterfly."

"The boy loved the legs indefinetly,
But, in the end, he was not satisfied."

"The boy loved its antennae,
So he pulled them out of the butterfly."

"The boy loved the antennae indefinetly,
But, in the end, he was not satisfied."

"What else was left?
The boy thought every day until the answer appeared."

"The boy loved the butterfly.
So he squished it."

"The boy loved the remains indefinetly,
He was very satisfied."

"The boy faced the remains of the butterfly, and said,
This must be love!"

"The boy, next fell in love with another butterfly.
The boy repeated this process until his love faltered."

"He did not love butterflys.
What else is there, he wondered."

"In the end, he found the last thing he loved.
Himself."

"He loved his legs.
He tore them off."

"He loved his eyes.
He ripped them out."

"He loved his life.
He crushed that life"

"To this day, the boy finds a new love.
And kills it, for that is what his love is."

THE END.

The boy closed the book and took a slow breathe. Amazing. The boy's intelligence was enought to understand every word that was said in this book. He was very proud to be able to read it so well. 'So,' the boy wondered. 'Is this love? Is this the meaning of death?' The boy did not have a clear answer. The only thing he could do, was to experiment. But first, he must hide this book. He must not let anyone else find it. He went back to his bed. He then hid the book underneath his bed, but he knew, that someone would eventualyl find it. He then ran to the kitchen and grabbed some tape and scissors. It was a pain to get them, because they were in a shelf far away from his reach, so he had to get another chair. Luckily, he didn't drop either item, and he was soon back in his room, taping the book to the top of the bottom of the bed. He ran back to the kitchen and returned the items.


The next day, he asked if he could go outside. He knew that butterfly's were located outside. However, he did not think he'd be able to catch one. So he went with the next best thing. He searched around the grass outside, out of eye shot of other children or any adults. He quickly found what he was searching for. An ant.

For the next year, until his third birthday, he played around with any small bugs he managed to find. Ants were currently his favorite. He tried to catch multiple butterflys over the year, but he always failed. Oh well. This just means that he isn't ready to play with them. Only once, did somebody find him "playing" with an ant. Luckily, it was one of the ignorant children. A two year old, just like himself at the time. She had blonde short hair and blue eyes. She was shorter than the boy. Since he read the book, and because of his need of a name, he asked that his name be "Kuro" after the author of that book. Although the adults never knew why he picked that name, they never questioned him. They thought it was a fine name. Though, while he was hiding, he happened to overhear them talking about it. They had apparently searched it, and found out that it was japanese for "black". "Black" would often be assiociated with "death". However, it didn't have a nice ring as death, so I didn't really care. But if my name was associated with death...it made me closer to it. And that made me happy.

But back to the girl who saw me playing with an ant. She watched me as I decapitated the ant with my index finer and my thumb. Though she did not know what happened, she tilted her head like she was interested. I knew she would not be interested in death, so I just ignored her, as I often do with everybody else here. However, following that incident, she followed me around everywhere. She followed me outside and watched me kill ants, she followed me to eat breakfast, lunch, or dinner, and she followed me to bed. Of course she did not sleep in my bed, in my little space, we all shared rooms. Multiple beds lined the room, and she just so happened, was assigned to my room. In the room, you can sleep in whatever bed you want. She slept in the one to my left. The bed closer to the door. Though, I would normally change the bed I sleep on, this is the bed that I taped the book under, so I can't easily leave it there.

A few days after she started following me around, she finally asked me what I was doing. At first I acted like I didn't hear her, but after she repeated the question three more times, I just told her. "I am killing bugs." She looked at me like she didn't understand my words, but she clearly heard them. She obviously didn't know what they meant. I would explain, but, I don't really care.

Some time after my fourth birthday, I managed to catch a butterfly. I felt so alive, so exhilerated, after I caught it. It was a grand feeling. I found a spot outside, where nobody would be able to see me. And then, I started. Like in the story, I first plucked the wings out of the butterfly. Then I tore the legs off. And finally I pulled the butterfly's antennae out. After these three steps, I squished the butterfly using the bottom of my little baby shoes. All in all, It felt great creating death in this tiny butterfly. But it all changed when I turned five.

My birthday is on June 15th, so when I was five, I was told that I'll be going to school. Honestly, I didn't want to go. But, I knew that school would help educate me. I would learn more and I would fianally find my true calling. The job I always wanted. I knew my fascination with death would help me, so I thought I would be a doctor. Surrounded by death everyday, that would be pure bliss. But that would be a long way away from today, so all I had to do, was to learn. So far, nobody wanted to adopt me, but it would all start to change once they learn that I would be making excellent grades.


I think Im missing some edits, so imma go back and do that. anyway, have a good night, day, and happy easter. please leave a like, favorate, review, and take a cookie on your way out.