Duo's POV about his life. Warning: suicide and death. If you are underage or cannot handle that, please, do not read.

I don't own them and you all know that

Shades of Grey

I had finally done it. Hildi's gone and there's nothing I can do about it. Ran off with some other guy. I sit here and contemplate my life as the blood seeps through my veins and all over my wrists. No more left for me here, in this world, so why not try the next? She, Hildi, ran off and left me because I had not coddled her enough during the war. Tell me, does that make sense? Total confusion, complete sense. That sums my life up in less then five words. Tell me, how do you fuss over someone in a war? Can you? Or is it a hopeless situation?

The blood is staining the carpet, Hildi's carpet, a vivid red now. Good. She should be thankful that's all I'm ruining and not her new boyfriend's face. I slump to my side thinking of my tainted soul and soiled hands stained with the blood of thousands. I should have died years ago in some fateful battle with Deathscythe, killing innocents and saving lives. There were good people on both sides of that pathetic war. People with homes and families, lives and children and I destroyed them all.

My eyes begin to close and the living room is becoming indistinct and bleary. Objects are slurring together to form morbid shapes and the hollow faces of people I have killed in my short reality as the great destroyer. But what do I care? That burden is lifted from me now. I'm well aware that suicide is the easy way out, but hey, can't I have it easy for once?

Life. The word has no meaning, unless you look in a Webster's. Existence, being, time, living, days, years. What do those mean? Nothing, nothing at all. Nothing to look forward to except death. It all boils down to one element and that is it, everyone dies and there's no way around it. Being buried in the cold ground separated from everyone. A black and bleak outlook.

The others, they have life, love and happiness. I got nothing, the short end of the stick if you will. I am only Shinigami, bringer of death and ender of life, black cold death.

The blood is a dramatic red and I marvel at how something representing pain and loss could be such a beautiful color. It soaks my clothing and mats my hair as I fade into black nothingness. Oh well. Everyone has colors and everyone has shades. There are shades of purple, blue, yellow, orange and thousands more. Some are cheerful and positive, some depressing and poignant

Take me for example, nothing to look forward to 'cept shades of grey.

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