Kiriska: PRAISE ME I UPDATE! O_O Don't get confused by this...this takes place *before* the last two chapters...to fill you in on all the nice little events that happened after Yama left school. =3 Neh. *dies and stuff*
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The Homicidal Maniac
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Chapter Forty-Six: Hands Finally Stained
Yamato
It giggled, a most noxious version of my own voice. The giggle grew louder, evolving into a menacing, cackling laughter. It had a reason to be laughing though,...I stood wedged between the walls of two buildings, in a tiny alleyway some ten blocks away from where I had just been. I was out of breath and tired, exhuasted, but my brain still had enough energy to conjure up sadisitic voices and versions of myself...You killed her haha! I didn't think you would, but you did! Congratulations Yama-chan! How do you feel!? How did it feel!? Exhilarating wasn't it? It sneered at me gleefully as I panted as softly as I could, trying to keep as silent as fucking possible in the dark alley. Yammy killed Kari; Yammy killed Kari! I'd never thought I'd see the day! I'm so prrrouuuddd!
"Shut the fuck up!" I hissed, completely destroying whatever silence I had attained earlier, cursing again, I started to run again. There always seemed to be footsteps behind me, always a slapping of rubber against the pavement and the huffs of fat, doughnut-gorged officers as they chased me. Where're you going Yammy? I don't know, shut up! They laughed at me and continued on with their congratulatory cheers on my deeds. Fuck...What's wrong? They sneered. Can't you all just shut up?! My temples pulsed as I strove to not scream out loud, but half of me knew I was only keeping myself occupied with my happy little voices to keep from thinking about the real matters at hand. To stop myself from fully acknowledging that I was a killer,...
Of course I could not evade the thought forever, and as my breath ran short again and I stopped behind a large trash bin, the sick feeling returned to my mouth. Why, for the love of god, did I kill her,....?
Oh, you know exactly why! Don't ask stupid questions, Yammy-kun! You wanted Taichi to feel your paaain. Like, duh. "But no,...I..." My voice was hollow and dry, and vaguely I acknowledged that the footsteps had died away again. What do you mean no? Don't you remember? How Taichi was so un-understanding towards you? How he accused you of playing right into Aymichi's hands! He deserved to lose Kari! "No he didn't! He didn't deserve to lose her! God fuck it,..." I slammed my knife into the brick wall, twisting it sideways accidentally and cutting myself. "He was right,...I'm doing Aymichi's work for him,..." My stomach churned as I heard my own words outloud. He didn't deserve to have to feel what I felt,...he didn't deserve to have his sister killed,....by me.
I leaned against the wall and the rough brick caught my shirt, scratching against my bare back as I slid down into a sitting position. Taichi would hate me now, if he hadn't already cursed my wretched name and existence. Koushirou too. I was completely alone now. I thought you said you were completely alone already, a voice pipped. "Shut up,..." How could I have believed that Tai didn't feel my pain before? How could I have believed that he had lost nothing already? In what fucking mind was I in when I said those things to him? When I threatened him? When I climbed up the fire escape to his sister's window,...? I drew my legs to my chest and leaned forward, feeling really cold all of a sudden. I killed Kari.
I closed my eyes and remembered her petrified face. I remembered the scream as she realized that she was going to die. And that her brother's supposed best friend was the one who wielded the knife. What the hell were her last thoughts? And Taichi was there in the room; he saw me; he recognized me; he'd seen the murderer of his sister. What would he be feeling right now? What would I have felt? If it had been Taichi that had killed Takeru? "Gods,...Takeru,....I'm sorry,....I'm sorry,...." Did he know? Did my brother know? Could he see from up there, that I killed her? When he sees her ascending up those golden stairs, would he know that I was the one that killed her? Would he ever be able to forgive me?
Do you really deserve forgiveness, Yamato? A cold voice chided. "No,...fuck it, just kill me now." Well, sure, Yammy, kill yourself if you wanna. You have the knife in your hands. I blinked and looked down at the blade, stained with my own blood, and Kari's. I had neglected to notice the pain from my cut until now, and anyway the bitter cold numbed it down. The blood was dark, almost a black color in the dead of night. Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! A chorus of voices chanted like those stupid M&Ms in that commcerial,...heh,...TV, commercials,...that other life I had lived. I gripped the knife, wondering. Are you sure it's time yet? You still have to kill Aymichi, you know, you promised you would, a voice said. Promises were made to be broken, said another. You have all those people to avenge! But you can also avenge Hikari,...save Taichi the trouble. You know you won't be able to fight him if he comes after you.
So avenge them all, stupid! Find that stupid rat, slaughter him, then commit suicide like a stupid little mental case you are! That's what you planned anyway wasn't it? You deserve to die as much as he does! So get on with it and stop sniveling in the damn alleyway. "Shut. Up." I growled at them for about the thousandth time that day. Yammy, you're cuh-ray-zee. Talkin' to yourself again, I see. "Shut up." So whatchu gonna do now, whatchu gonna do?! Hurry up with it, y'know? Don't got all night! Ok, well, technically --- wait! No you don't! The police are still looking for you, duh! What if they catch you now?! Then you won't be able to do anything! Not kill yourself, not nuttin'! So hop to it, yo?! Goddamn, since when did I ever talk like that? These voices couldn't possibly represent me,...I wasn't that psychotic,...pssh, listen to yourself, Yammy.
I stood up only to get blasted by a sudden gust of winter wind, like I was being punished already. So what's it gonna be? I felt like there was a whole audience of little bastards in a theatre in my head, watching, waiting, anticipated my actions like this was all some sort of sadistic movie. I looked down at my pathetic excuse for a weapon, a simple knife, and one that was never really intended for anything more than display. Did I stand a chance? Oh, who cares?! You can tell your Hellmate buddies that you tried! And so what if you died while fighting him? You're going to die either way! If you win, you die! If you lose, you die! So c'mon! "Will you all just let me THINK!?" We are! We are you thinking! If we weren't here, then you wouldn't be thinking! What the fuck, you aren't me thinking! I don't think I like fucking street punk! You talk like you're stoned or something! Do not,...awwww,...now you've hurt our feeeeelings! Bad Yammy,...
For the love of Christ,...I felt like stabbing myself in the head with the damn knife. "Hey Yamato." For a moment, I thought that it was another voice, another little crazy person in my head, and so my response was impulsive, "Shut up." It was when he laughed at my reply that I slowly looked up and realized. I knew that voice, and it certainly was not one of my own - even though I refused to accept that I ever talked like that - it was Aymichi's. And his laugh,...his deranged, psychotic laugh,...that could never be my own,...never, never, never,...no matter that I've stained my hands with Kari's blood, no matter that I'm more like him than I would have ever wished,...I could never have that voice,...never,...
"Why the short fuse tonight, eh? Aren't you glad to see me?" My gaze met his. His blue eyes grinned wider than his mouth ever could, like a maniac, and I could guess his intentions here tonight. I found that I had trouble transitioning my mindset to fit my new company. My mind was still alone in an alley arguing with itself and feeling guilty while Aymichi swaggered closer, hands threateningly in his jacket pockets. So my second response was slow, which only succeeded in amusing him more. "Awww, whassat'matta, Yama? You look really surprised! More surprised than I thought you would be! Something wrong? Something in my teeth? Did I kill someone else maybe?" I got over myself at his stupid try at humor and spat at his feet, "Maybe you did."
His grin widened, "Ahh, maybe I have, but word on the street is that you've done a pretty good job of stealing my job." I stiffened. How the FUCK could he possibly know what I've done?! Had he been following me?! How could he know!? "What the hell are you talking about?" My voice was barely audible through clenched teeth. The murderer (could I still call him that and be specific?) took a step back in mock surprise, "You mean you don't /know/? But I must congratulate you! You did a fine job of it! Killing Kari I mean." I lunged.
The hatred and frusteration lost this afternoon returned in an instant. I know what I had done, and I had heard half of my twisted self congratulate me for it. But hearing it from HIM was not something I needed,...I didn't need,...didn't WANT him to APPROVE of ME! How are you supposed to feel when you do exactly what your mosted hated, most detested enemy wants you do to do?! How can you help but feel STUPID!? A magnified sense of the word! Magnified tenfold, a thousandfold! I HATED myself, almost as much as I hated him,...and he had to rub it in by PRAISING what I had done,...Goddamnit, LET HIM DIE! My grip on my knife was not good in my rush, my impulsive attack. And he was easily able to step out of the way of my crazed assault.
I immediately turned and slashed again, forcing him to draw his own weapon to counter. We both hit clothing and a sliver of flesh. Droplets of blood splashed on the ground, insignificant in the growing heat of a battle. "Why the hate Yammy? Aren't you proud?!" I rewarded his taunt with another attack, he grabbed my wrist and pushed me back, "No?" He jumped back, then forward again, and kicked at me. I sidestepped, but he hit my side, I felt a sting. A reminder that my old wounds had not healed completely. Wait,...if mine hadn't healed, then neither have his. Another leg was launched at me as I processed this thought; I took a step back then threw my knife at Aymichi's head.
Surprised, he just barely moved out of harm's way, but he turned to look at where the blade had landed, giving me a chance to slam elbow-first into his side, where I had slashed him in our last encounter. He let out a sharp yelp and crashed against the wall, cursing. I retrieved my knife and and stabbed at him. He rolled away, but hit the trash bin. "Think you're so clever, don't you Ishida?" he snarled, amusement gone from his voice. I smirked, it was unbelievably satisfying to see him suffer,...it was a morbid feeling, and a part of me didn't like it. It made me feel even more like my enemy.
He moved suddenly from his position, shoving me with one hand while the other slashed forward. The combination had me stumble backwards and into the opposite wall and a large warehouse window. Aymichi pounced, literally crouching and pushing off on all fours (or three, as knife was in one hand) and landing almost on top of me with his blade. He caught the tail of my shirt, which thankfully tore, as I hauled ass out of his way. I got to my feet and backed up more, trying to find some time to think. This time he threw his knife, missed, and the weapon crashed through the fragile window, shattering it into a million pieces. I jumped through, hoping to get to his knife before he did.
It was dark inside the warehouse and there was now broken glass all over the floor and random boxes. Thank god I decided to steal shoes yesterday. My eyes prowled for the discarded weapon, but Aymichi joined me inside the building before I could find it. I turned to face him, only to be kicked in the stomach and thrown into a pile of empty boxes. I groaned out loud and forced myself to get up. It hurts, it hurts, but you have to get up, the voices chorused from the sidelines in my head. Aymichi's eyes glowed demonically from the other side of the room, "One of us is going to die tonight, Yamato,...." There was something different about his voice; it was even more serious than it had been when I hit his old wound. But I didn't really care, what he said was true. I was not going to stop here tonight unless I was killed, or unless he was dead. "So be it." I hissed at him, and ignoring the pulsing sting at my side I dashed towards him again, knife ready.
So tonight would end everything, would it?
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Kiriska: *stretches fingers* Cripes,...I'm so glad I finally sat down and made myself write this without stopping and without going back to second guess what I wrote. Now I'm all excited like and wanna get on to the next chapter right away. And I hope I do. Thanksgiving holidays are next week, so there's hope eh? Four more chapters to go. Please review!
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The Homicidal Maniac
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Chapter Forty-Six: Hands Finally Stained
Yamato
It giggled, a most noxious version of my own voice. The giggle grew louder, evolving into a menacing, cackling laughter. It had a reason to be laughing though,...I stood wedged between the walls of two buildings, in a tiny alleyway some ten blocks away from where I had just been. I was out of breath and tired, exhuasted, but my brain still had enough energy to conjure up sadisitic voices and versions of myself...You killed her haha! I didn't think you would, but you did! Congratulations Yama-chan! How do you feel!? How did it feel!? Exhilarating wasn't it? It sneered at me gleefully as I panted as softly as I could, trying to keep as silent as fucking possible in the dark alley. Yammy killed Kari; Yammy killed Kari! I'd never thought I'd see the day! I'm so prrrouuuddd!
"Shut the fuck up!" I hissed, completely destroying whatever silence I had attained earlier, cursing again, I started to run again. There always seemed to be footsteps behind me, always a slapping of rubber against the pavement and the huffs of fat, doughnut-gorged officers as they chased me. Where're you going Yammy? I don't know, shut up! They laughed at me and continued on with their congratulatory cheers on my deeds. Fuck...What's wrong? They sneered. Can't you all just shut up?! My temples pulsed as I strove to not scream out loud, but half of me knew I was only keeping myself occupied with my happy little voices to keep from thinking about the real matters at hand. To stop myself from fully acknowledging that I was a killer,...
Of course I could not evade the thought forever, and as my breath ran short again and I stopped behind a large trash bin, the sick feeling returned to my mouth. Why, for the love of god, did I kill her,....?
Oh, you know exactly why! Don't ask stupid questions, Yammy-kun! You wanted Taichi to feel your paaain. Like, duh. "But no,...I..." My voice was hollow and dry, and vaguely I acknowledged that the footsteps had died away again. What do you mean no? Don't you remember? How Taichi was so un-understanding towards you? How he accused you of playing right into Aymichi's hands! He deserved to lose Kari! "No he didn't! He didn't deserve to lose her! God fuck it,..." I slammed my knife into the brick wall, twisting it sideways accidentally and cutting myself. "He was right,...I'm doing Aymichi's work for him,..." My stomach churned as I heard my own words outloud. He didn't deserve to have to feel what I felt,...he didn't deserve to have his sister killed,....by me.
I leaned against the wall and the rough brick caught my shirt, scratching against my bare back as I slid down into a sitting position. Taichi would hate me now, if he hadn't already cursed my wretched name and existence. Koushirou too. I was completely alone now. I thought you said you were completely alone already, a voice pipped. "Shut up,..." How could I have believed that Tai didn't feel my pain before? How could I have believed that he had lost nothing already? In what fucking mind was I in when I said those things to him? When I threatened him? When I climbed up the fire escape to his sister's window,...? I drew my legs to my chest and leaned forward, feeling really cold all of a sudden. I killed Kari.
I closed my eyes and remembered her petrified face. I remembered the scream as she realized that she was going to die. And that her brother's supposed best friend was the one who wielded the knife. What the hell were her last thoughts? And Taichi was there in the room; he saw me; he recognized me; he'd seen the murderer of his sister. What would he be feeling right now? What would I have felt? If it had been Taichi that had killed Takeru? "Gods,...Takeru,....I'm sorry,....I'm sorry,...." Did he know? Did my brother know? Could he see from up there, that I killed her? When he sees her ascending up those golden stairs, would he know that I was the one that killed her? Would he ever be able to forgive me?
Do you really deserve forgiveness, Yamato? A cold voice chided. "No,...fuck it, just kill me now." Well, sure, Yammy, kill yourself if you wanna. You have the knife in your hands. I blinked and looked down at the blade, stained with my own blood, and Kari's. I had neglected to notice the pain from my cut until now, and anyway the bitter cold numbed it down. The blood was dark, almost a black color in the dead of night. Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! A chorus of voices chanted like those stupid M&Ms in that commcerial,...heh,...TV, commercials,...that other life I had lived. I gripped the knife, wondering. Are you sure it's time yet? You still have to kill Aymichi, you know, you promised you would, a voice said. Promises were made to be broken, said another. You have all those people to avenge! But you can also avenge Hikari,...save Taichi the trouble. You know you won't be able to fight him if he comes after you.
So avenge them all, stupid! Find that stupid rat, slaughter him, then commit suicide like a stupid little mental case you are! That's what you planned anyway wasn't it? You deserve to die as much as he does! So get on with it and stop sniveling in the damn alleyway. "Shut. Up." I growled at them for about the thousandth time that day. Yammy, you're cuh-ray-zee. Talkin' to yourself again, I see. "Shut up." So whatchu gonna do now, whatchu gonna do?! Hurry up with it, y'know? Don't got all night! Ok, well, technically --- wait! No you don't! The police are still looking for you, duh! What if they catch you now?! Then you won't be able to do anything! Not kill yourself, not nuttin'! So hop to it, yo?! Goddamn, since when did I ever talk like that? These voices couldn't possibly represent me,...I wasn't that psychotic,...pssh, listen to yourself, Yammy.
I stood up only to get blasted by a sudden gust of winter wind, like I was being punished already. So what's it gonna be? I felt like there was a whole audience of little bastards in a theatre in my head, watching, waiting, anticipated my actions like this was all some sort of sadistic movie. I looked down at my pathetic excuse for a weapon, a simple knife, and one that was never really intended for anything more than display. Did I stand a chance? Oh, who cares?! You can tell your Hellmate buddies that you tried! And so what if you died while fighting him? You're going to die either way! If you win, you die! If you lose, you die! So c'mon! "Will you all just let me THINK!?" We are! We are you thinking! If we weren't here, then you wouldn't be thinking! What the fuck, you aren't me thinking! I don't think I like fucking street punk! You talk like you're stoned or something! Do not,...awwww,...now you've hurt our feeeeelings! Bad Yammy,...
For the love of Christ,...I felt like stabbing myself in the head with the damn knife. "Hey Yamato." For a moment, I thought that it was another voice, another little crazy person in my head, and so my response was impulsive, "Shut up." It was when he laughed at my reply that I slowly looked up and realized. I knew that voice, and it certainly was not one of my own - even though I refused to accept that I ever talked like that - it was Aymichi's. And his laugh,...his deranged, psychotic laugh,...that could never be my own,...never, never, never,...no matter that I've stained my hands with Kari's blood, no matter that I'm more like him than I would have ever wished,...I could never have that voice,...never,...
"Why the short fuse tonight, eh? Aren't you glad to see me?" My gaze met his. His blue eyes grinned wider than his mouth ever could, like a maniac, and I could guess his intentions here tonight. I found that I had trouble transitioning my mindset to fit my new company. My mind was still alone in an alley arguing with itself and feeling guilty while Aymichi swaggered closer, hands threateningly in his jacket pockets. So my second response was slow, which only succeeded in amusing him more. "Awww, whassat'matta, Yama? You look really surprised! More surprised than I thought you would be! Something wrong? Something in my teeth? Did I kill someone else maybe?" I got over myself at his stupid try at humor and spat at his feet, "Maybe you did."
His grin widened, "Ahh, maybe I have, but word on the street is that you've done a pretty good job of stealing my job." I stiffened. How the FUCK could he possibly know what I've done?! Had he been following me?! How could he know!? "What the hell are you talking about?" My voice was barely audible through clenched teeth. The murderer (could I still call him that and be specific?) took a step back in mock surprise, "You mean you don't /know/? But I must congratulate you! You did a fine job of it! Killing Kari I mean." I lunged.
The hatred and frusteration lost this afternoon returned in an instant. I know what I had done, and I had heard half of my twisted self congratulate me for it. But hearing it from HIM was not something I needed,...I didn't need,...didn't WANT him to APPROVE of ME! How are you supposed to feel when you do exactly what your mosted hated, most detested enemy wants you do to do?! How can you help but feel STUPID!? A magnified sense of the word! Magnified tenfold, a thousandfold! I HATED myself, almost as much as I hated him,...and he had to rub it in by PRAISING what I had done,...Goddamnit, LET HIM DIE! My grip on my knife was not good in my rush, my impulsive attack. And he was easily able to step out of the way of my crazed assault.
I immediately turned and slashed again, forcing him to draw his own weapon to counter. We both hit clothing and a sliver of flesh. Droplets of blood splashed on the ground, insignificant in the growing heat of a battle. "Why the hate Yammy? Aren't you proud?!" I rewarded his taunt with another attack, he grabbed my wrist and pushed me back, "No?" He jumped back, then forward again, and kicked at me. I sidestepped, but he hit my side, I felt a sting. A reminder that my old wounds had not healed completely. Wait,...if mine hadn't healed, then neither have his. Another leg was launched at me as I processed this thought; I took a step back then threw my knife at Aymichi's head.
Surprised, he just barely moved out of harm's way, but he turned to look at where the blade had landed, giving me a chance to slam elbow-first into his side, where I had slashed him in our last encounter. He let out a sharp yelp and crashed against the wall, cursing. I retrieved my knife and and stabbed at him. He rolled away, but hit the trash bin. "Think you're so clever, don't you Ishida?" he snarled, amusement gone from his voice. I smirked, it was unbelievably satisfying to see him suffer,...it was a morbid feeling, and a part of me didn't like it. It made me feel even more like my enemy.
He moved suddenly from his position, shoving me with one hand while the other slashed forward. The combination had me stumble backwards and into the opposite wall and a large warehouse window. Aymichi pounced, literally crouching and pushing off on all fours (or three, as knife was in one hand) and landing almost on top of me with his blade. He caught the tail of my shirt, which thankfully tore, as I hauled ass out of his way. I got to my feet and backed up more, trying to find some time to think. This time he threw his knife, missed, and the weapon crashed through the fragile window, shattering it into a million pieces. I jumped through, hoping to get to his knife before he did.
It was dark inside the warehouse and there was now broken glass all over the floor and random boxes. Thank god I decided to steal shoes yesterday. My eyes prowled for the discarded weapon, but Aymichi joined me inside the building before I could find it. I turned to face him, only to be kicked in the stomach and thrown into a pile of empty boxes. I groaned out loud and forced myself to get up. It hurts, it hurts, but you have to get up, the voices chorused from the sidelines in my head. Aymichi's eyes glowed demonically from the other side of the room, "One of us is going to die tonight, Yamato,...." There was something different about his voice; it was even more serious than it had been when I hit his old wound. But I didn't really care, what he said was true. I was not going to stop here tonight unless I was killed, or unless he was dead. "So be it." I hissed at him, and ignoring the pulsing sting at my side I dashed towards him again, knife ready.
So tonight would end everything, would it?
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Kiriska: *stretches fingers* Cripes,...I'm so glad I finally sat down and made myself write this without stopping and without going back to second guess what I wrote. Now I'm all excited like and wanna get on to the next chapter right away. And I hope I do. Thanksgiving holidays are next week, so there's hope eh? Four more chapters to go. Please review!
