After what seemed like an eternity, feeling as if at random, the man's eyelids finally decided to open, while at the same time his stomach felt as if it was still debating whether or not it wanted to burst open. He was on a bed, and it felt impossible to get up. The man's sight invited him back to a blurry mess of a world, mangled with muddy pixels of blacks and greys that were meshed with a glowing orange that most likely represented light, and on top it all off, he was just about having the shittiest headache he ever had in his life. He wasn't dead at the very least, but dear god he might as well have been.
"Daddy, you're finally awake!"
Listening to that voice yet again...he now unmistakably knew that it was his daughter who was talking.
"Mikan, what happened? What are you doing here?" The man's gritty growl of a voice, strained from obvious- stress finally uttered the name of his child. The pixelated colours that represented his proposed daughter were still mixed in with the blacks and greys of the room but slowly yet surely, he could already tell his sight was reorganising the world back together again.
"The outside world daddy." She purred. "It's scary out there. People who I thought were my friends started stabbing each other and some even started slicing off their hands and fingers and if it wasn't that they'd end up killing themselves. I was so scared."
She wasn't being serious. Given The context of her small speech, the man should have been able to feel some small amount of sorrow, but he felt none. All he could catch was the disguised yet painfully clear sarcasm in the girl's voice, which drained all the weight from her words.
"I came back home because I knew it would be safe."
That wasn't true, was it? She was back to kill him, just like the rest of me. It was the only thing that made sense; to get revenge on how he treated her. After thinking about it for a second though, the man probably deserved it.
"I saw you fainted on the floor when I found you daddy. So, I took you to my room and took very special care of you."
Another obvious lie added to the man's paranoia and was beginning to feel Iller by the second. What in God's name did mikan-
!
He couldn't move his right hand. No. He couldn't feel his right hand. In disbelief as well as desperation, the man worriedly wiggled every last limb that was still attached to his body, and where his lower left leg should have jolted...
Shit! He was drugged right? He must've been dreaming right? It was a dream. It had to be a dream! The meshy fog in the man's eyes finally felt like clearing and with all his inner strength he turned his head round to face his right arm; but all that was left was the arm and all that came out of its tip it was a small lump of thickly layered bandages, dyed in dry blood.
It was a fucked up dream. The man continued thinking. He couldn't feel the pain, right? So, it was just a fucked up dream, birthed from his newfound daily stresses. The pain from his old arm injury must have been giving him a horrific nightmare.
"It was hard patching you up when you were bleeding so heavily daddy." The bitch went on. "I had to give you a ton of painkillers and stuff to keep you from feeling the pain. I'm sorry. You must feel terrible right now. It's a good thing I saved you."
She was fucking insane. Painkillers? No- the only reason he couldn't feel the pain was because he was dreaming; This was just my mind's way of punishing him. There's no way he should still be alive like this.
"Good thing the ultimate nurse was here to save you daddy and don't worry I'll take care of you. I won't let you die like everyone else daddy. You're safe with me daddy."
"All you need now is me."
Fuck. Shit. fucking shit. This can't be fucking happening! How the hell did it come to this? The man couldn't curse enough. This was too fucked up to be a dream, but at the same time it was too fucked up to be real, but it just had to be fucking dreaming. Being drugged by his own daughter had to be a fucking dream. All of the last few weeks had to be a fucking dream. He had to believe it was. He had to for the sake of what small sanity he had left, and as if by reading his thoughts the monster smiled. malevolent, vengeful and pure evil were the only words that spawned when the man's now mushy mind attempted to decipher such a grin. This was how he died: by the hands of his own fucking kid. Now accepting that, the man then realised that keeping himself aware of the living world was only going to make him fearful of the inevitable and so he let his heavy eyelids fall just so he could at least have the luxury of dying without knowing what hit him, but something out of place then uttered from Mikans small lips.
"So, what do you want to do first?"
A question instead of a threat. Was it curiosity instead of bloodlust? Despite still hearing that wrongfully playful tone in his daughters still silk like voice, for whatever reason, the girl's strange question gave the man enough hair on his balls to open up his eyes to his assassin yet again. This time he was eye to eye with mikans face; her straw like hair gravitated towards him and her skin: crystal clear, causing what was left of her innocence to glow, while also horribly smudged with scars and bruises of the past, reminding the man of why he was here now. She was almost on top of him and only her slender arms held her above the man, acting as cemented pillars beside his neck. The man's response was delayed by the surprise of Mikan's random actions and all he could offer in exchange was a limp whimper of confusion.
Was she going to kill him or not?
Mikan then suddenly retreated from her pose and sat down at the end of the bed, avoiding squishing his leg. Well, the one that still had an end to it.
"Comon' daddy, now we can play anything you want. Maybe you can try drawing on me, everyone always loved doing that back at school so you should give it a try!"
"What?" The man finally spat out.
"I'm sorry!" She blurted apologetically, while also completely out of place. "Maybe that's too weird for you. Do you want me to squeal like a pig again? You always loved doing that daddy. Roleplay was always your favourite."
Why? Why was she asking this? Did she develop a thing for fucking masochism while she was gone? He couldn't question everything enough; the man's mind just began to melt from stress and confusion. Despite the lingering silence the man couldn't help but create though, without any sign of permission Mikan settled onto the floorboards on all fours and simply started to squeal like a pig.
This was it. This was hell. This was God's heavenly punishment.
" #$ %*!"
It was his fault she ended up like this. The man knew this now. Why did fate have to ram the fact down his throat?
"#$ %*^=!"
He fucking got it. He made his kid into a fucking psychopath. Big hoo-fuckin-ray! Just kill him for it already!
"Oink. €£#$ %*^=! oink oink."
But the universe thought death wasn't enough. Oh no, the sweet release of death was never enough to right this man's wrongs, experiencing the end of the world was never enough, being dissected like a fucking frog was never enough. No.
"#$ %€¥₩! Oink."
He had to endure the desperate screams for attention. Take in the blood curdling cries for mere notice. He had to tolerate the broken girl's ungranted wishes for a better father.
"₩¥€*$% ! $$%£ !"
And he did...until he couldn't.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
She stopped squealing, but the animalistic screams still remained in the man's ears.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
"...Daddy?" She mumbled, somehow sounding shocked at his response.
"Shut...up. please." The man begged. He couldn't take it anymore.
"I'm sorry Daddy." The girl apologizes again. With her voice finally sounding more mellow than sadistic. "I forgot you liked to see me do that with all of my clothes off...give me a second."
At this point the man was truly bewildered how he raised such a sad creature.
"Mikan." The man once again called out the name of his child as his eyes began to leak. "Please, enough of this."
Mikan then climbed back onto the end of the bed and locked with my eyes; hers instantly succumbed with certain grief as if she feared those words from the start.
"Daddy, I thought you liked playing with me."
I stared back into her eyes with an assertive glance. One way or another, she had to learn that tearing off people's limbs was some fucked up shit and no way to get what she wanted. It was the only way of redeeming himself, yet not even several seconds passed before she couldn't bare the silent treatment.
"Don't ignore me, Daddy. Don't do that again, please don't ignore me! please forgive me. I know I cut off your arm and your leg but I only did that so you wouldn't leave me alone again, I only did that so we could play forever. I only did that for us Daddy, because I love you! And Daddy loves me."
...
"...right?"
The man did not deserve to admit he loved her back because now he realized that He never deserved love. Not from his daughter, not from his late wife, hell, not even from his own old folks. The man now realised that he was human shit and all he ever offered was a shitty stench to smell for everyone around him and now he had intoxicated Mikan with his vulgar stink. The least he could do now was to relive some of the fumes and stop his daughter from absorbing any more of his odour. All he had to do was ignore her and be lucky for the man: that was what he did best.
!
As if Satan himself sent everything he had to crush every shred of the man's newfound resolve, an intense surge of pain he had never felt before, striked at the ends of the dismembered body parts the man had almost forgotten about. He already saw his arm freshly bitten off and his leg cut clean, but his mind was only now reacting to his sights and now every ounce of thought he once carried was instantly drowned out by a powerful, primordial pain.
"Ahhh...ahhhhhggghha. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhh!" This time it was the man's turn to squeal like a pig. The entire world's suffering encapsulated in one single moment - all the man could do was vent all the pain out for all to hear.
"Daddy, don't scream! Please...please stop screaming like that!"
Panic flourished in the depths of the girl's mind. The painkiller's effect wore off more quickly than she had originally calculated, and it was only a matter of time before her dad died of the pain caused by his dismemberment. She knew she had to drug him back to sleep immediately and wait for his wounds to heal, but somehow, the few words that slithered out of the dying man's lips, kept her sat, frozen on the bed.
"Mikan...help me please."
Those few words changed everything.
Her legs were glued. Her heart beated faster and faster but her head paused, and her sense of urgency plainly disappeared. The girl's body simply couldn't be bothered to move anymore. What was this feeling?
"Mi-kan...Mi-"
Daddy was dead.
The girl felt no grief. No regret, no remorse, not a trace of despair birthed from her mistake.
She just sat there.
The non-existent glue still sews her short legs to the mattress of the bed. Her beating heart was still rapid, but her mind acted first.
That feeling was so close to euphoric. She might have been unusual but she always imagined the death of her only family would make her sad, but she felt far from that. Then she knew why.
"Daddy...-I was the last person daddy was thinking about. I was the last person on Daddy's mind."
All she wanted was attention, all she wanted was acknowledgement, all she wanted was to be loved. Her patients were always weak and broken but thanks to that they depended on her, they were grateful for her, and they gave her all the attention she could ever ask for. Drugging daddy and immobilizing him was just a way to make him like one of her patients and if dismembering daddy was going to make him love her forever then that was what she should do. Instead, though she ended up murdering him and now she was all alone again But still, that emotion remained. The fact that she was daddy's last thought accelerated her and the feeling of knowing that made her feel so relieved and somehow Mikan couldn't barely bring herself to regret what happened. Daddy was nothing but a corpse now, she knew that she had failed at being the so called 'ultimate nurse,' she knew she'd never see, touch or talk with her father ever again and yet the final begs and pleads for his life felt like more attention than he had ever decided to give to her.
"Daddy is dead." She sobbed. Lines of tears streamed down her skin.
"But I was his last thought. Daddy yearned for me. Daddy wanted me to save him." She giggled. She didn't know why but she went on giggling until the giggles evolved into laughter and eventually the seeds of her laughter bloomed into a savage song of sorry cackles. The conflicted emotions of depression and pleasure clashed in war inside Mikan's mind and the effects of their battle gushed out of Mikan in the form of chuckles and sobs. She didn't know what she should have felt anymore. Mikan had now truly lost her mind.
!
Warmth. Embrace. Love. It was all in a single moment. Her beloved.
"Jun-ko?"
"Shush now Mikan. It's okay."
Her beloved was here and for the first time in ages, Mikan felt cleansed. Her wobbling knelt legs gave way and tumbled down sideways like skyscrapers that crashed down onto the duvet, as the warmth from Junko's breasts aroused her. A Slender yet tender arm caressed the girl's hip and softly squeezed her core; while another gently stroked off the pieces of dandruff burrowed within her straw like hair, giving Mikan an inviting fuzzy feeling inside. It was pure love. If only the world could let her stay like this forever.
"Junko..." Mikan began to vent. "Your plan didn't work. D-daddy just decided to ignore me in the end." She went on. "A-and when he died, he said my name, he begged me to save him and then I-I had this strange feeling."
Junko's voice then hummed in Mikan's ear. Her boiling breath was gentle and warm and just like the sun in a snowstorm, it melted every little bit of Mikans of well earnt fatigue.
"What kind of feeling was it?"
"It was a pleasure. I-I felt good. I even felt happy, even though he's dead now..."
Before a seed of panic could begin to spread in Mikan's soul, the slight sound of Junko's voice once again quelled any flames of anxiety lit within her and the words that were delivered with that voice, finally Settled the mental storm brewing within Mikan.
"You're just like me Mikan."
That was it. She was just like her beloved. It made so much sense now and with that everything was right again. Suddenly the frail girl broke free of the others hug just to turn around and dive into the cushiony breasts of her beloved and just like that she let it all out.
"Merry Christmas my little Mikan." Junko made one last whisper.
Hajime.
A skinny girl, dressed in a smart yet tattered nursing uniform stood anxiously outside a holiday cabin. This girl was no ordinary girl though as in the last few hours she had mercilessly murdered two of her own classmates. The girl felt no grief, no regret, nor remorse as she felt nothing but joy when being the last reflection of someone's eye before it was darkened forever. Ibuki and Hyoko were really nice friends and they just had to be her next victims to help relieve herself, as well as in helping along Junko's killing game but for some reason, instead of covering up her tracks, her instincts brought her here. To her neighbour's beach cabin who was coincidentally investigating her crime.
It was a dumb move in the perspective of a killer to randomly show themselves up to the detective but to Mikan; it was something she had to do. As expected, the door was open and just by opening the door the girl could see the boy she was looking for completely conked out on his bed. Being the ultimate nurse, she could instantly tell that Hajime was sleeping on the investigation due to obvious stress but despite that she couldn't help herself and without a second thought the girl dug under the boys covers and gently squeezed the slumbering life saviour to her core. Just like last time in the hospital, her hunch was correct. Hajime was just as warm, soft and comforting as her beloved.
She held the boy tight and as the emotions that came with the memories of her last Christmas came back to haunt her, she held tighter and tighter. The raging battle inside her soul was back. The truce of those emotions was not going to last forever. The fight between love and pleasure. What was more important to her? Seeing her friends free themselves from her beloved's killing game and live out the rest of their lives together? Or was it making sure that she was the last face, the last person, the last thought everyone would have minds before they finally die and witnessing all their anguish and hatred for herself? The attention she always craved was so close in her reach but the accursed emotion of guilt she thought she had repealed long ago was getting in the way again.
She then came to an ultimatum and whispered in Hajime's ear
"Hajime. I did it."
...
...
He was still asleep.
With her internal struggle more or less settled, the girl squeezed the boy one last time and slept peacefully beside her second yet brief love.
Amazing art i used goe to: 'いお'
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