A/N- *Sneezes* Here is the third and final part to the Sorrow Trilogy. It's third person surrounding... the person it was about in Love is Death. I think something went a bit off, though. So for the purposes of this particular story, the guy is somewhat able to hear the voices and/or thoughts of those around him, not just his...aibou's... Right...If you haven't read the other two in the Trilogy, then go back and read them. It might even make this make sense...
And once again, here is my standard yaoi warning: Warning! This story can be, and is by me, considered yaoi. So if you rabidly hate this type of thing, now is your chance to hit the 'Back' button. This means you, Kaiba_Girlfriend, Reoato, Crazywitch666, Darknessshadowsme666, Faithenough02, Spottyweeone, Dark_Pessimist01, _Dark_Tears_, Lovelessga12345, Dev_Hood or anyone else from Neopets that I talk to, especially those of the Yu-Gi-Oh Center and Lance and Dev's Yu-Gi-Oh Academy. And also BlueOrange, Psychotic Potato, and Raging Toilet. Got that? No open mind, no read. Simple as that. I'm done with my rant/warning now. If you're still here and I haven't scared you off yet, then feel free to read on.
Disclaimer- I own nothing more than the barely existent plot and the whole color idea. Not much to be proud of, but that's not the point...Kaiba_Girlfriend is going to come after me with a pitchfork for this, isn't she...
Purple Skies
He heard almost distinctly the crunch of autumn leaves as he walked, silent and alone amid the bare trees, wishing that he was not alone. But he was. The only person he could ever love was gone.
Crimson eyes tilted upwards, taking in the blue sky, seeing purple. Falling lower, greens turned brown and dark colors darker, just like that fateful night...
Memories flashed before his eyes, all thoughts focused on him. His chest constricted, making it hart to breathe. He loosened a buckle. It didn't help.
The memories were talking to him. So many voices... He could hear them in his mind.
They were screaming. They were crying. They wanted out. He wanted out. But he couldn't get out. They couldn't get out. He would have them forever. And it was killing him slowly, from the inside out.
He continued into the cemetery, not paying attention to the surroundings, but feet traveling over the well known path by themselves. And it was late. Almost all people were asleep.
But not in his mind. The voices were there, screaming their memories to him. All the insults, taunts, scathing remarks, everything he had ever said in his presence, it was all there. Mocking him, tormenting him, yet remaining dear to him. They were all he had left...
Naturally, he hated himself right now. Or maybe it was just the people in his mind thinking that for him. Or maybe they hated the people in his head. Parents he never had, filling him with the memories of the beatings that never took place on his body. Cold blue eyes, no longer blue and no longer cold, staring at him through the darkness.
His feet paused by a bench, then went on, only a momentary hitch in their movement.
He had known it was a curse. They didn't believe him, even back then. He was lucky. He go to have all the power in Egypt. But what comes with power?
Torment.
So many emotions. Love. Hatred. Pain. Confidence. Fear. Who are these people? Were they him? They couldn't be...
Hatred. So much hatred. They all hated him. Did they really? It was hard to tell, and he couldn't remember anymore. He was so cold, or maybe he wasn't. maybe the heat was so painful it was making him numb, and the world around him was just a cold nothing.
His friends...his friends didn't hate him. It was all just a mask. They couldn't hate him. They just no longer loved him.
Finally, trained feet reached their destination. One lone grave lay before him. His grave...how he missed him. His chest constricted tighter and both hands and knees hit the ground.
Crystalline red drops fell freely from crimson eyes, and still the sky remained purple. Or was it? He didn't know.
He was so tired. He could hear the voices talking still. At least he thought they were talking. Maybe they were crying. Like he was.
He was scared. Had he died? Was this what being dead was like? A cold burning pain, cold with despair, hot with pain, flooded by torment. Being dead hurt so much. Why did he have to leave?
Free him. Save him. Restrain him. Leave him. He's gone mad. He went mad and he took it.
Nobody understood anymore. They didn't get it. Nobody did. Only he and his dead love would. But he was gone, and so he was alone.
Alone.
Left on earth in a stoic silence while that ever sadistic gods existed proceeded to prolong his torment. It was beginning to get hard to tell the difference between life, death, and love. This must have been what he had thought.
Tears fell faster as he remembered him. Millions of scarlet drops creating a vast ocean of despair. And at the horizon, the sky remained purple, viewed though a pair of crimson eyes. Why had the fates done this to him? Had he done something wrong? Something to deserve this? Apparently he had. Had committed an invisible crime that he hadn't realized. Unless...
No.
It couldn't be. Was it really? He cursed himself silently for not telling him while he had the chance. Of course, he wanted to now, but that was impossible. Dead men hear no tales.
Killing himself wouldn't either. Dead men tell no tales.
Shoulders shaking with unsuppressed sobs, he withdrew a cluster of slightly crushed roses. Red for love, yellow for admiration, black for sorrow. All were gently set with trembling hands over the green grass covering the grave.
Dark clouds rolled in and lightning began to flash overhead. Rain came down, mingling with the scarlet drops falling.
The voices were fading away. Not leaving. They never left. Just fading away into his body, hiding somewhere for another day when they would be back to torment him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, was very tired. He would think of it all later. He saw his face in his mind, the flare of cold blue eyes. He looked up, blinked, could almost see him. He was here. He was looking on.
Sapphire eyes narrowed, softening, head turning away, then vanishing. He was alone again. Loving and loveless. Hands and knees left the ground and he appeared almost normal. As normal as a person could get with tearstained cheeks.
And as he left, sapphire eyes remained soft, watching him go. Above them both, the heavens rained down their celestial glitter, crying as he was. Crying their celestial tears from a sky that remained purple, viewed through crimson eyes.
~Owari~
A/N- *Sighs* That was the third and final piece to the Sorrow Trilogy. I hope you liked it. Did I confuse you? If enough people request it in reviews, I'll add on a short dissection of the Trilogy. Oh, and there will be absolutely NO flames for content. You were warned. If you have something to say that I have not already outlawed, then by all means, feel free. Sorry you had to sit through my two rants.