The Killings.


Miku began to trek back towards the circus, leaving the slumped body of the two-headed twins to rot away. She paused for a moment, touching her head, her chest and her two shoulders before looking at her hands. There were tiny flecks of blood on her fingertips and her palms.

Her face however, was covered. She knew it was. She could feel the warm, sticky liquid beginning to dry and crack on her face. She licked her hands and began to try and clean herself. When she had finished, her palms were an odd orange-red colour.

Miku then continued to walk, grasping her knife tightly. It felt cold against the fur like hair on her goat legs, but she didn't think about that. She chose to think about Len and Rin's journey into heaven.

You see, Miku had never believed in anything but God. She had been brought up on tales of purgatory, heaven and hell. She was quite happy to believe in it.

To her, hell sounded better than just dying. What was the point in life, if afterwards, there was just eternal darkness? No feeling, no anything. That scared her more than anything. Buried and forgotten, with no memory, feeling or sensation.

The tall man knew this. Once, when Miku had been particularly disobedient - she had refused to sing that night, refused to do anything at all - the tall man called for her. He sat her down and said, ' Do you want to know what death feels like? Real death?'

Miku had shook her head. The tall man did not deserve too kill her.

But, sadly, there was no stopping the tall man. Of course there wasn't. He blindfolded the young girl swiftly. She was surrounded by darkness, so suddenly that she feelings of anxiety immediately began to stir.

No more sight.

He manipulated her mind, until all she could think was the distant pound of his power.

No more memories.

He slowed her heart, until she really was on the verge of death.

Not much feelings; where was the feeling?

Finally, he softly pressed his hand against her nose and her mouth. Why couldn't she breathe? What was happening?

If Miku had been able to string together enough thoughts at that point, her first thought most probably would have been panic. She tried to concentrate on the things she could feel - his hand on her mouth; her slow heartbeat; the uprising worry that was struggling under the tall man's power. Her body, demanding that she began to breathe.

The pound in her head grew stronger and stronger as she felt herself slipping away, into the unknown abyss of nothing. Just as Miku began to feel the tug of death, the circus own removed his hand. He removed the blind fold, and the pound in her head began to leave.

Miku bolted upright, breathing hard. Panic burst into her head, like the scream of victim. Her heart began to thump speed up considerably. She sat there a moment, regaining her senses; her memories flashing by one by one, a split second each.

"Wasn't that fun?" The tall man chuckled, bending down and staring at Miku. She didn't turn to face him. "Now off with you," he continued, narrowing his eyes. "Get out of my sight. Next time, I want a very good performance."

Miku quickly agreed, standing up shakily on legs that weren't right. She sat in her cage, taking great care in noting every breath, every heartbeat and every memory. She then prayed.

The moment that memory popped up in Miku's mind, she dismissed it. She was going to go and visit Pochi.

Miku liked Pochi. He didn't speak much. He had blue hair and a pale face, with dark sunken eyes, that looked like the life had been drained out of them. Pochi ate people, but Miku knew he wouldn't eat her. Pochi liked the attention that his fellow freaks gave him from time to time, though his favourite person of all was Master. Master who fed him,

(Master who whipped him)

Master who loved him,

(Master who killed him).

Miku found Pochi in his cage. Her nose wrinkled slightly. She was still not accustomed to this smell of the dead bodies that Pochi ate.

The blue haired beast was at the back of his cage. Clad in a straight jacket, he was lying down, empty blue eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling. After the show, Master would untie Pochi from the chair, and place him somewhere in the room. Sometimes Master would stay for a while, and talk to Pochi, but most of the time, he did not.

"Hello, Pochi," Miku greeted, sitting beside Pochi and leaning her head over his so he knew who she was. Pochi sometimes forgot who was who in the circus; everyone seemed to blur into one sometimes. Apart from Master. Pochi recognised Master.

"Pochi," the cannibal replied, flashing Miku a small smile. His teeth were sharp. Even his molars. It was like meeting a vampire.

"Yes, Pochi," Miku replied softly. She knew very well that Pochi could only say certain words. 'Pochi' being one of them. From what Miku knew, he could also say 'Master', 'Evil' and 'Food'. Miku assumed that Pochi had picked up 'Evil' from the crowds that gather round his cage to watch him eat. "You doing okay?"

"Pochi."

"Indeed," Miku agreed, toying with the knife in her hand. It was like an urge, shouting at her, ordering her to kill. Though, it was all for the greater good.

"Pochi," Pochi echoed himself. He didn't look like he was truly paying attention. His mind was elsewhere. His fingers curled on the ground; his arms strapped behind his back. It wasn't his fault he was such a taboo. He had not been born to eat his own race. Change can be a wonderful thing. But for Pochi, it was not.

Miku's fingers clenched around the knife. They unclenched. Clench, kill, unclench, wait. For the first time in her murderous career, Miku felt nervous. What if she was wrong?

No, no, she couldn't be wrong. Surely God was backing her up with this matter? She was helping people. Helping them be free, helping them to a better place.

Her fingers remained clenched.

She slowly, and cautiously dropped the knife to the ground. Her hands began to unbuckle the belts on the straight jacket. Pochi looked down at her hands.

"Master?" He whispered, confused about what was going on. He was never allowed out of the jacket. It was tight and sometimes, he grew very hot in it. Pochi was ignorant to the fact that he was in the jacket because the audience believed him to be a danger to them all.

Miku ignored his voice. She continued to unbuckle the strap, revealing a white top with thin driblets of dried blood upon it. Miku dragged the shirt upwards with a force that she didn't realise she had. She then sat on Pochi's torso, pinning him with her legs.

And here it was. Pochi's naked chest, vulnerable and exposed. Miku picked up the knife with steady hands, pressing it lightly against Pochi's skin. He began to whimper.

"Master? Master," he repeated. His eyes were as big as saucers as he looked down at the knife.

"Hush," Miku ordered, a harsh undertone to her quiet voice. She slowly plunged the knife into Pochi's chest, making him yowl. She flinched. What if someone heard? What if they all heard? She pressed her free hand against Pochi's mouth. He tried to nip her, but it was no good.

The teal haired girl began to cut a square in the beast's chest, making sure her long hair was well out of her way. Pochi's muffled cries met her ears, as her eyes met the red-pink flesh of the blue haired adult. Veins pulsed inside the soft pink mass. The knife clunked against the hard bones of Pochi's ribcage. Miku imagined them rattling together, though the bone was too strong for that.

"Master! Evil, Master!" Pochi tried to yell, but of course, his voice was weakened by Miku's hand. Air rushed out of the cracks in between his attacker's fingers.

Miku dropped the knife. She looked at her hands for a second, before digging her fingers into the exposed flesh. She forced apart the rib cage with a loud crack. The sound was accompanied by a struggling wail from Pochi. He flailed around, and for a second, Miku thought she was going to be knocked to the ground. He was growing weaker though; pain was taking over.

She took hold of his shoulder for a second, steadying herself become continuing. She took the knife in one hand, and cupped Pochi's vulnerable heart with the other. It was warm and soft, veins visible as it thumped in her hand.

With one swift cut, the heart was disconnected from the body. Kaito convulsed, shuddering for a second. His head lolled backwards and Miku could hear a gasp-y creak coming from his lungs. His mouth hung open, and what Miku assumed was supposed to be a scream came out as a spluttering cough, that left spots of blood on the ground near his head.

Miku looked at the heart for a second. So this was what was inside her? She felt slightly nauseous for a second, but no guilt arose from the pit of her emotions. Miku sat for a second, sideways on the corpse of Pochi. She then stood up and walked to his head. Kneeling down, she stuffed his own heart in Pochi's mouth - much like stuffing a pepper with rice for a dinner party.

"The last meal," Miku murmured, once again touching her head, chest and shoulders before deciding to flee the scene.


AN: Another one bites the dust. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Reviews are greatly appreciated, and concrit is fine. :-)

Review Replies;

Aisu-kun - Thank you very much! I'm glad you're finding the writing captivating. I really appreciate the review!

Too Lazy To Log In - Thank you for such high praise! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.