In the Mind of a Killer
I hate life. I hate all living things. I hate humans. I hate all the little boys and girls that get to sleep and smile and laugh and feel . Feel joy, happiness, sorrow, euphoria, excitement, contentment, fear, pleasure, enjoyment . I hate them.
I exist to kill every human besides myself. I must, it is my destiny in this world. I exist to kill, and feel no love for anyone but myself . But I cannot. I feel no love towards myself. Not towards others, either, but no love of myself. I hate myself. I hate the sand, I hate the demon, I hate my village, I hate my family, I hate my mother and father and sister and brother, and I hate my uncle. I hate all those who fear me for the demon. I hate life. I hate laughter, and smiles and joy and pride. I hate all and everything. I hate death.
Most of all . More than anything else in the world . I HATE MYSELF!!!! I HATE MY FEELINGS! I HATE THEM AND MYSELF! I WANT TO KILL MYSELF, BUT I CAN'T . I cant .
I go through this existence other humans call life . and I end it. I end life because I hate it. I end humans because I hate them. I end their feelings because I hate them. I end joy because I hate it. I end fear . by killing . because I hate it, yet revel in it. I hate happiness, so I end it with fear, and I hate life, so I end it with death . I hate death . but I cannot end death .
And so I keep killing, and hope that maybe . maybe one day I'll find that I don't hate death so much, so I don't kill anymore. I hope that maybe one day I'll find I don't hate life quite so much . I kill . I kill . I kill because killing and pain and death and fear and blood . makes me feel alive, and watching all the people and children and LIFE . kills me.Because I know that I can never be like that and never have that, and that I am condemned to hate and death and pain and fear and sorrow . and loneliness.
I hate them . for having what I can never have. I hate them because they love, and I can't. I hate them because they smile, and I can't. I hate them because they know joy, and I never shall. I hate them because they are naïve and innocent and kind and good, and I am destined to never know or be these things. I hate them because they have a family who loves them, and I never have, and never will. I hate them because they feel pain, and I CANNOT and that is what I wish to do. I hate them because they can FEEL and I don't. I hale them because they feel fear, and it us what I have never known. I hate them because they don't HVE to kill. I hate them because they can die. I hate them because they live ... And that, I have never done, and I wish to above all else . I hate them, because each and every day they are killing me . And they don't even know it.
I hate them all for what they have that I lack. I hate them.because hate is all I know how to do. So I walk onwards, always onwards, to wherever the paths may take me.
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I can feel the human's fear . The pain . the death . A sweet, sweet red liquid . Blood, I realize. Staining my hands, dripping from my face and clothes. It drips slowly, ever so slowly, making a sickening splash as it hits the ground . In the middle of a puddle of this half-dried red life. I delight in the terror and pain in the man's eyes as my sand slowly crushes him .
"Pl ...please!" He cries, and I am compelled to watch the blood fly from his mouth in slow motion, fascinated. "s-stop . I-I beg . of you ." His words are not heeded.I can feel the demon's glee at the carnage. Abruptly, the sand drops the man, and he lands in a trembling heap. It is silent as I make m way to him, slow and deliberate. By now he is halfway up, with tears of pain running down his face. He looks up at me, and the world holds its breath, tension mounting in the air around us, as I simply stare at him.
He looks up at me, torn, bloodied . Broken in body, mind, and spirit. The look in his eyes is one that would gain mercy and pity from many others . But not I. I know not mercy, and have no use for pity. In a swift moment, he is dead, and blood splatters across my face . I can feel the heavy drops sluggishly make their way down my face, leaving streaks of red in their wake.
I continue on my way. It is quiet, save for the sounds of night. No human makes a noise, and even the crickets have stopped their songs. I leave the dark and silent city behind me before long, always at my slow, leisurely pace.
In the town behind me, not a being stirs. No child rolls over in bed, dreaming sweet dreams a child may have. No mothers get out of bed to comfort a baby. No fathers get up to have a drink. No teenagers sneak out of their homes to do what they will. The whole place is still. Until a flame licks up a curtain, burning the soft material quickly. Quickly the tiny flame grows to a raging inferno, spreading through the village quickly. However, no shrieks of fear, no splash of water from the bucket brigade. The flames are left to do as they may, turning the once great village in the space of a night, into a smoldering, withered city of ash and death.
And I walk on, ignoring the furious roaring of the flames, ignoring the quiet explosions as houses collapsed in on themselves. On an impulse, I turn, and watch as sand rose as a wave, covering the city, the surroundings . Providing a burial for the dead, and they lay mutilated beneath the crushing weight of the sand, and it greedily drank up the blood from the bodies, turning a sick crimson brown color.
Looking over the sand-covered plain that used to be village, seeing the dark brown spot that glistened wetly in the strong moonlight, a tiny, ever-so tiny smile touches my passive face for a moment, and I turn, continuing on my way, somehow feeling satisfied with the way things are.
Owari
A/N: I was looking at a pic of Gaara, and it just kinda . came. Review and tell me how pathetic it was please!!! Flames will be used to make s'mores!!!!
I hate life. I hate all living things. I hate humans. I hate all the little boys and girls that get to sleep and smile and laugh and feel . Feel joy, happiness, sorrow, euphoria, excitement, contentment, fear, pleasure, enjoyment . I hate them.
I exist to kill every human besides myself. I must, it is my destiny in this world. I exist to kill, and feel no love for anyone but myself . But I cannot. I feel no love towards myself. Not towards others, either, but no love of myself. I hate myself. I hate the sand, I hate the demon, I hate my village, I hate my family, I hate my mother and father and sister and brother, and I hate my uncle. I hate all those who fear me for the demon. I hate life. I hate laughter, and smiles and joy and pride. I hate all and everything. I hate death.
Most of all . More than anything else in the world . I HATE MYSELF!!!! I HATE MY FEELINGS! I HATE THEM AND MYSELF! I WANT TO KILL MYSELF, BUT I CAN'T . I cant .
I go through this existence other humans call life . and I end it. I end life because I hate it. I end humans because I hate them. I end their feelings because I hate them. I end joy because I hate it. I end fear . by killing . because I hate it, yet revel in it. I hate happiness, so I end it with fear, and I hate life, so I end it with death . I hate death . but I cannot end death .
And so I keep killing, and hope that maybe . maybe one day I'll find that I don't hate death so much, so I don't kill anymore. I hope that maybe one day I'll find I don't hate life quite so much . I kill . I kill . I kill because killing and pain and death and fear and blood . makes me feel alive, and watching all the people and children and LIFE . kills me.Because I know that I can never be like that and never have that, and that I am condemned to hate and death and pain and fear and sorrow . and loneliness.
I hate them . for having what I can never have. I hate them because they love, and I can't. I hate them because they smile, and I can't. I hate them because they know joy, and I never shall. I hate them because they are naïve and innocent and kind and good, and I am destined to never know or be these things. I hate them because they have a family who loves them, and I never have, and never will. I hate them because they feel pain, and I CANNOT and that is what I wish to do. I hate them because they can FEEL and I don't. I hale them because they feel fear, and it us what I have never known. I hate them because they don't HVE to kill. I hate them because they can die. I hate them because they live ... And that, I have never done, and I wish to above all else . I hate them, because each and every day they are killing me . And they don't even know it.
I hate them all for what they have that I lack. I hate them.because hate is all I know how to do. So I walk onwards, always onwards, to wherever the paths may take me.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I can feel the human's fear . The pain . the death . A sweet, sweet red liquid . Blood, I realize. Staining my hands, dripping from my face and clothes. It drips slowly, ever so slowly, making a sickening splash as it hits the ground . In the middle of a puddle of this half-dried red life. I delight in the terror and pain in the man's eyes as my sand slowly crushes him .
"Pl ...please!" He cries, and I am compelled to watch the blood fly from his mouth in slow motion, fascinated. "s-stop . I-I beg . of you ." His words are not heeded.I can feel the demon's glee at the carnage. Abruptly, the sand drops the man, and he lands in a trembling heap. It is silent as I make m way to him, slow and deliberate. By now he is halfway up, with tears of pain running down his face. He looks up at me, and the world holds its breath, tension mounting in the air around us, as I simply stare at him.
He looks up at me, torn, bloodied . Broken in body, mind, and spirit. The look in his eyes is one that would gain mercy and pity from many others . But not I. I know not mercy, and have no use for pity. In a swift moment, he is dead, and blood splatters across my face . I can feel the heavy drops sluggishly make their way down my face, leaving streaks of red in their wake.
I continue on my way. It is quiet, save for the sounds of night. No human makes a noise, and even the crickets have stopped their songs. I leave the dark and silent city behind me before long, always at my slow, leisurely pace.
In the town behind me, not a being stirs. No child rolls over in bed, dreaming sweet dreams a child may have. No mothers get out of bed to comfort a baby. No fathers get up to have a drink. No teenagers sneak out of their homes to do what they will. The whole place is still. Until a flame licks up a curtain, burning the soft material quickly. Quickly the tiny flame grows to a raging inferno, spreading through the village quickly. However, no shrieks of fear, no splash of water from the bucket brigade. The flames are left to do as they may, turning the once great village in the space of a night, into a smoldering, withered city of ash and death.
And I walk on, ignoring the furious roaring of the flames, ignoring the quiet explosions as houses collapsed in on themselves. On an impulse, I turn, and watch as sand rose as a wave, covering the city, the surroundings . Providing a burial for the dead, and they lay mutilated beneath the crushing weight of the sand, and it greedily drank up the blood from the bodies, turning a sick crimson brown color.
Looking over the sand-covered plain that used to be village, seeing the dark brown spot that glistened wetly in the strong moonlight, a tiny, ever-so tiny smile touches my passive face for a moment, and I turn, continuing on my way, somehow feeling satisfied with the way things are.
Owari
A/N: I was looking at a pic of Gaara, and it just kinda . came. Review and tell me how pathetic it was please!!! Flames will be used to make s'mores!!!!