Kiriska: Omigod, we're almost there. o_o Omigod, this story's second anniversey is in like a month. Think I'll finish by then? o_o *really hopes so*
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The Homicidal Maniac
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Chapter Forty-Eight: I'm Sorry
Yamato
There is no way to decribe pain. You have to feel it for yourself. You can't understand the agony of having holes in yourself until you've felt it for youself. All of my fingers were sticky with warm blood, my blood, his blood, Kari's blood, everyone's blood. My hands were pressed against my wounds in attempt to stop the flow, but I knew it was futile. Hell, I had just fucking been shot four times. I was sitting in a freezing, old, abandoned warehouse in the middle of no where. I had just been stabbed and kicked and shot. I was leaking blood from twenty different places. I couldn't feel half my body parts and my head was throbbing so hard I found it surprising I hadn't passed out yet. I figure my chances of dying were pretty damn good; I was hoping it happened soon actually; everything just hurt so fucking bad.
I wondered if it would have hurt even more if it hadn't been so cold, if I didn't feel so numb. I deserved to suffer, didn't I? //You do, Yama, you do. But still, maybe you deserve to suffer less since you managed to kill Aymichi?// No, I don't,...killing a killer doesn't make up for killing the innocent,...My shoulder burned. Taking my hand away from the wound, cold air suddenly touched the open cuts, causing them to sting even more. I could see the bullet embedded in my flesh. God, it was so gross looking. The piece of metal seemed to have been crushed upon impact, the twisted bits of grey catching against my pale flesh. Clotted red surrounded the impact point, covering half of the bullet. The rest of the shoulder had been skewered by a blade, carved up like meat. The skin had been cut away to reveal layers of pink muscle, muscle that bled with all the blood it had to bleed with. The substance had leaked and dripped and spilt everywhere, covered my fingers and the floor. It hadn't stopped yet, but the flow was slower. I guess I was running out of blood.
My side hurt even more than my shoulder. The ragged excuse for a shirt was barely holding onto existance, having been reduced to several shreds of fabric tied together by thin threads. It was heavy and wet, the touch of the soaked shirt felt really disgusting against my skin. //Isn't it funny how you can feel that but you can't feel your toes, Yammy? I think it's funny.// I'll bet you do. I could only see one of the bullets that had landed in my stomach, but I knew there was another one somewhere, buried deep, because I could see the circle of red that exploded out from the hole it made. Heh. I was like swiss cheese,...cheese leaking blood,...there's a joke in that somewhere, I'm sure. God, it hurts,...it hurts so fucking bad. But I deserve it, don't I? I deserve to suffer, to be in pain. //If you're so sure, why do you keep asking?// A voice questioned, sounding annoyed. I don't know. //Maybe you're expecting someone to tell you you deserve it?// Maybe. //You deserve it.// I know.
I looked at Aymichi's body. His eyes were closed but he was grinning at me. Was he really dead? It didn't feel like he was. //Were you expecting some sort of feeling of triumph?// "I don't know,..." It felt no different. Because all the pain and agony was still there. Takeru was still dead. Mimi was still dead, and Joe, and Sora,... They were all still dead. Aymichi being dead didn't change any of that. And Hikari was still dead. And when I died, she wouldn't come back. //So what've we accomplished here, Yama-chan?// The rest of them will live,...I guess,...Taichi is still alive. //But he'll suffer for the rest of his life - because of you.// Koushirou is still alive,...but he will suffer as well. //Because of you.// But they would have suffered anyway,...it's not my fault,...yes it is. //They might have suffered, but you've managed to worsen it haven't you? Tai could still have his sister now if it weren't for you,...it's your fault, Yamato. I know it, you know it.// (Considering, I'm you, I guess that's sort of obvious huh?) So what's there left to do? Nothing. I just need to die.
Aymichi's gun lay discarded a few feet from the body. His knife was on the ground a few feet from my feet. My own knife was still embedded in him; he had not bothered to remove it. All the weapons seemed so far away; it would require great deals of effort and pain to get to them. So which was easier? Sitting here, waiting, waiting until I ran out of blood, until I died from that, until I died from cold, or moving and causing myself hideous pain to retrieve the blades and bullets so that I may go quicklier to Hell, where even more pain awaited me? //Yammy's doomed! Doomed! Doomed!// I sighed; my chest heaved painfully and my stomach tightened with the movement. My lungs stung horribly, wasn't quite sure why. Maybe they were bleeding too. The smell of blood suddenly seemed very strong, I hadn't really noticed it. I smelt like roadkill. Aymichi smelt like roadkill. The whole room smelt like rotten meat that had been left in the sun too long. I felt like throwing up, but no doubt that would only add to the smell and make me want to throw up even more,...
//If you throw up, you'll die sooner, you know. Yeah, you've lost enough of your insides, why not loose the rest of it?// Gee, I never knew I was so sarcastic on the inside. //Yes, you did.// Oh, shut up. My vision was starting to go; the room blurring together in a dizzying spectrum of colors. The shadows seemed to grow and envelop everything else in the room; boxes, trash, random things that had been left behind. Was I dying? //Well, duh.// If I just closed my eyes, would it go faster,...? I did so, shutting away the spinning room. But I wasn't greeted with darkness, I saw Taichi's face when I accused him of whatever it was that I had accused him of. God, I don't even remember. I was so stupid,...so selfish,...I was the one who hadn't understood. I saw Kari's face when I grabbed her, when I killed her. I saw Sora's face when I had threatened her. I saw Mimi's face when I held her up against the wall. I saw TK's lifeless face as he lay there in the hospital bed. I saw Aymichi's dead grin.
I opened my eyes again. The grin was still there. The rest of the room had been consumed by darkness, but some cruel light was keeping him illuminated for me, so I could see that it was he that had won after all. He had destroyed everything that had ever meant anything to me; what did it matter that he was dead now? He had already taken everything away; killing him didn't bring back what he had stolen. And he was right; he would see me in Hell, and then he would be all I had for company for the rest of eternity. Burning, burning. Actually,...I remember once, I took one of those stupid online personality test things,...it was to see which level of hell you would go into based on some book by some famous dead guy, I think. I don't know. I remember where I went though. The seventh level of hell, for the violent bastards of the world. Fits you, Yama. Do'ye think? Funny time to remember such a stupid and insignificant part of my life, huh? Well, if that Dante guy's made-up hell really turns out to be true, and I land in the 7th circle of hell; at least I'll be carrying some irony down with me. Yay.
I saw a light. No, it wasn't the train or God, or whatever else lays at the end of the tunnel. It was a little red light blinking in the midst of the darkness. I blinked and stared at it. It stopped blinking, but shone bright red now. Had it always been there and I just hadn't noticed? What the hell was that? I moved slightly, reminding myself that I couldn't exactly get up to see what it was. Well, I could try, but I'd rather not. The puddle of blood I was sitting in was starting to loose its disgusting warmth, and the coldness of the floor was making itself known again. Jesus, am I dead yet? I continued to stare at the little red light, wondering if whatever lay around it in the darkness would come into focus if I looked long enough. So I just sat there, waiting for myself to die, and wondering if my curiosity would be satisfyed before I went. Or maybe someone thinks I should be tormented even more and stuck that stupid light there to taunt me. I probably deserved it anyway.
After a few moments, I looked away, tired of the constant brightness of red burning into my retinas. Returning my gaze to the darkness around me, a stupid after image of the red light blinked in my head, worsening my headache. My stomach gave a painful lurch and the feeling that I was going to throw up came back. A feeling like a finger prodding me from the inside of my head made me cough suddenly; more warm blood trickled down my chin and down my shirt. Damnit, the shirt was annoying the hell out of me. It was so gross and warm and sticky and disgusting to touch. I thought for a moment, then used my better arm to rip the remaining strands of red-soaked fabric off of me. The threads caught on my back and stung horribly for a few seconds before they snapped and I threw the rag at Aymichi's head, half-hoping it would cover his stupid grin. I missed. My bare back then leaned back against the freezing, freezing wall, and I wondered again when I was going to die.
//Hey, Yammy. Do'ye got any last words?// A voice pipped up out of no where. "What's the point? There's no one to here me." I answered it allowed, not really realizing that I was talking to myself again. //So? Takeru can hear you, can't he?// I swallowed some blood that had been in my mouth, gagging at the bitter taste. Could he here me? I didn't know; he was an angel, but would be even want to look at me after all that I'd done? //Kari can hear you. And Sora and Joe and Mimi. They can all hear you. // Yeah, they're probably all up there, just waiting for me to die. I was waiting for me to die. Why wasn't I dead yet? I had holes all over me; there couldn't be that much blood in me. My heartbeat was still thumping against my chest, but each beat sent pain through my chest. I thought I saw Aymichi's lip twitch, still grinning. Was he really dead? Was he just pretending and waiting for me to die as well? Was the pit where I was to spend all the rest of eternity all fired up to recieve my wretched soul? Were they waiting as well? Was I just still living on borrowed time? //Probably.//
I took a deep breath and sighed again. My lungs burned; my heart burned; my shoulder burned when I relaxed my muscles again; my stomach burned at the slight movement, and continued to burn. "I'm sorry 'Teeks,..." My voice was barely a whisper, my chest hurt even more with the talking, and my throat decided to jump on the bandwagon and start aching like hell too. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry that I was stupid." I paused, wondering if anyone was actually hearing me. Did I believe in angels? Did I believe in God? I don't know. I just felt like talking, even if it hurt so fucking much. "Mimi, Joe, Sora,...I'm sorry,...Hikari,...God, I'm so sorry,...I-I,...I,..." I didn't know what to say to her, if she was listening, if I could really talk to her again; I don't know what I would say, what could I say? I fucking killed her! I slit her throat and I killed her; what could I possibly say? "I-I...forgive me,..." A voice snorted in my head, "I don't deserve it,...I know,...I'm sorry,...I'll never see you again, but I'm sorry,...I don't expect you to forgive me; I wouldn't forgive me, but,..." I trailed off again.
//What are you saying, Yama-chan? Are you really begging for forgiveness when you know you don't deserve it?// I don't know,...I,...I guess I wanted them to remember me before I went insane with grief and anger and shit,...I guess I wanted them to hate me for me now, but remember that I hadn't always been like that? //Oh, but weren't you always like that, Yammy? Short-tempered, stupid, hot-headed, protective, did I say stupid yet? And quick to make stupid decisions? You don't deserve their forgiveness.// So, I don't. Goddamnit, I hate me. Am I dead yet?
"Taichi,...Taichi, Taichi, I'm sorry,..." I looked up into the darkness, not really knowing why. Taichi wasn't up there, after all. He was probably with the police somewhere, with his parents, at home maybe, mourning over the loss of the sister I had killed. He wouldn't hear me. He wouldn't hear my useless apologies or lamentations. He wouldn't hear that I was sorry. It didn't matter. He'd never forgive me anyway. "It's my fault, isn't it? It was all my fault from the start. You understood it; I didn't. You were right; I was wrong. You were smart; I was stupid. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,...I could say that til my voice breaks and my heart blows up, but it won't make any difference will it? I'm sorry, Tai,..." I realized I was crying. The warm tears tumbled shyly down my cheeks and mixed with the half-dried blood elsewhere streaked across my face. Tears, tears, those forbidden tears.
I hadn't cried when Takeru died. I hadn't cried when Mimi died. I hadn't cried when Joe or Sora died. I hadn't even cried when I commited murder; I hadn't cried when Kari died. But I could cry now,...I guess.,..because it didn't matter anymore. I didn't have to pretend I was strong because I knew I wasn't. Everyone knew I wasn't. If I had been strong, then I could have cried then instead of now. If I had been strong, there wouldn't even be a now. If I could have been strong,...his sister would still be alive. If I had been strong, so many things could have been different, could have been better perhaps. But I wasn't, and I cried out everything that had been held back and vented away in other ways. But I no longer wielded a knife and I could no longer get up without hurting like hell and I could no longer find ways to distract myself from the guilt,...the grief,...the...everything. It didn't matter anyway. "I'm sorry Taichi,...Izzy,...Dad,..Mom,..." A laugh came up out of no where, sounding strangled admist my tears. It was funny. When would I have ever expected myself to die cold and alone beside a guy who'd murdered so many of my friends and crying my eyes out?
I'm so sick of myself. Am I dead yet? I let my hands fall down to my sides; they landed with a slight splash in the red pool of blood. I stared at the black ceiling, wondering if they had heard me. I could see Hell in the ceiling somewhere, the flames and pus and tears that would be greeting me there. I could hear the screams of the damned souls; I could hear Aymichi's scream, but a further away sound was Takeru's laugh, Mimi's giggles, Joe's good-natured chuckle, Sora's smile, and Kari's weird grin. Somewhere far away was Tai laughing at Izzy's nerdy dorkiness. Somewhere far away in the memories was a lot of things I thought I'd forgotten. I leaned my head back against the wall, my throat gulped hard, tiring of its work. "I'm sorry,..." Life sucks and then you die.
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Kiriska: Not really satisfied with how that ended, but oh well. -.-;; Wow, that was a really long, pointless, and off-tangent chapter! But I suppose his thoughts wouldn't have been very organized at the brink of death anyway. Mehff,...next chapter is either Taichi or Koushirou's POV, obviously, and whoever I don't do next chapter will get the final chapter. Do me a favor and pick who you'd like to have the next chapter, please? Review, m'friends, please do review.
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The Homicidal Maniac
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Chapter Forty-Eight: I'm Sorry
Yamato
There is no way to decribe pain. You have to feel it for yourself. You can't understand the agony of having holes in yourself until you've felt it for youself. All of my fingers were sticky with warm blood, my blood, his blood, Kari's blood, everyone's blood. My hands were pressed against my wounds in attempt to stop the flow, but I knew it was futile. Hell, I had just fucking been shot four times. I was sitting in a freezing, old, abandoned warehouse in the middle of no where. I had just been stabbed and kicked and shot. I was leaking blood from twenty different places. I couldn't feel half my body parts and my head was throbbing so hard I found it surprising I hadn't passed out yet. I figure my chances of dying were pretty damn good; I was hoping it happened soon actually; everything just hurt so fucking bad.
I wondered if it would have hurt even more if it hadn't been so cold, if I didn't feel so numb. I deserved to suffer, didn't I? //You do, Yama, you do. But still, maybe you deserve to suffer less since you managed to kill Aymichi?// No, I don't,...killing a killer doesn't make up for killing the innocent,...My shoulder burned. Taking my hand away from the wound, cold air suddenly touched the open cuts, causing them to sting even more. I could see the bullet embedded in my flesh. God, it was so gross looking. The piece of metal seemed to have been crushed upon impact, the twisted bits of grey catching against my pale flesh. Clotted red surrounded the impact point, covering half of the bullet. The rest of the shoulder had been skewered by a blade, carved up like meat. The skin had been cut away to reveal layers of pink muscle, muscle that bled with all the blood it had to bleed with. The substance had leaked and dripped and spilt everywhere, covered my fingers and the floor. It hadn't stopped yet, but the flow was slower. I guess I was running out of blood.
My side hurt even more than my shoulder. The ragged excuse for a shirt was barely holding onto existance, having been reduced to several shreds of fabric tied together by thin threads. It was heavy and wet, the touch of the soaked shirt felt really disgusting against my skin. //Isn't it funny how you can feel that but you can't feel your toes, Yammy? I think it's funny.// I'll bet you do. I could only see one of the bullets that had landed in my stomach, but I knew there was another one somewhere, buried deep, because I could see the circle of red that exploded out from the hole it made. Heh. I was like swiss cheese,...cheese leaking blood,...there's a joke in that somewhere, I'm sure. God, it hurts,...it hurts so fucking bad. But I deserve it, don't I? I deserve to suffer, to be in pain. //If you're so sure, why do you keep asking?// A voice questioned, sounding annoyed. I don't know. //Maybe you're expecting someone to tell you you deserve it?// Maybe. //You deserve it.// I know.
I looked at Aymichi's body. His eyes were closed but he was grinning at me. Was he really dead? It didn't feel like he was. //Were you expecting some sort of feeling of triumph?// "I don't know,..." It felt no different. Because all the pain and agony was still there. Takeru was still dead. Mimi was still dead, and Joe, and Sora,... They were all still dead. Aymichi being dead didn't change any of that. And Hikari was still dead. And when I died, she wouldn't come back. //So what've we accomplished here, Yama-chan?// The rest of them will live,...I guess,...Taichi is still alive. //But he'll suffer for the rest of his life - because of you.// Koushirou is still alive,...but he will suffer as well. //Because of you.// But they would have suffered anyway,...it's not my fault,...yes it is. //They might have suffered, but you've managed to worsen it haven't you? Tai could still have his sister now if it weren't for you,...it's your fault, Yamato. I know it, you know it.// (Considering, I'm you, I guess that's sort of obvious huh?) So what's there left to do? Nothing. I just need to die.
Aymichi's gun lay discarded a few feet from the body. His knife was on the ground a few feet from my feet. My own knife was still embedded in him; he had not bothered to remove it. All the weapons seemed so far away; it would require great deals of effort and pain to get to them. So which was easier? Sitting here, waiting, waiting until I ran out of blood, until I died from that, until I died from cold, or moving and causing myself hideous pain to retrieve the blades and bullets so that I may go quicklier to Hell, where even more pain awaited me? //Yammy's doomed! Doomed! Doomed!// I sighed; my chest heaved painfully and my stomach tightened with the movement. My lungs stung horribly, wasn't quite sure why. Maybe they were bleeding too. The smell of blood suddenly seemed very strong, I hadn't really noticed it. I smelt like roadkill. Aymichi smelt like roadkill. The whole room smelt like rotten meat that had been left in the sun too long. I felt like throwing up, but no doubt that would only add to the smell and make me want to throw up even more,...
//If you throw up, you'll die sooner, you know. Yeah, you've lost enough of your insides, why not loose the rest of it?// Gee, I never knew I was so sarcastic on the inside. //Yes, you did.// Oh, shut up. My vision was starting to go; the room blurring together in a dizzying spectrum of colors. The shadows seemed to grow and envelop everything else in the room; boxes, trash, random things that had been left behind. Was I dying? //Well, duh.// If I just closed my eyes, would it go faster,...? I did so, shutting away the spinning room. But I wasn't greeted with darkness, I saw Taichi's face when I accused him of whatever it was that I had accused him of. God, I don't even remember. I was so stupid,...so selfish,...I was the one who hadn't understood. I saw Kari's face when I grabbed her, when I killed her. I saw Sora's face when I had threatened her. I saw Mimi's face when I held her up against the wall. I saw TK's lifeless face as he lay there in the hospital bed. I saw Aymichi's dead grin.
I opened my eyes again. The grin was still there. The rest of the room had been consumed by darkness, but some cruel light was keeping him illuminated for me, so I could see that it was he that had won after all. He had destroyed everything that had ever meant anything to me; what did it matter that he was dead now? He had already taken everything away; killing him didn't bring back what he had stolen. And he was right; he would see me in Hell, and then he would be all I had for company for the rest of eternity. Burning, burning. Actually,...I remember once, I took one of those stupid online personality test things,...it was to see which level of hell you would go into based on some book by some famous dead guy, I think. I don't know. I remember where I went though. The seventh level of hell, for the violent bastards of the world. Fits you, Yama. Do'ye think? Funny time to remember such a stupid and insignificant part of my life, huh? Well, if that Dante guy's made-up hell really turns out to be true, and I land in the 7th circle of hell; at least I'll be carrying some irony down with me. Yay.
I saw a light. No, it wasn't the train or God, or whatever else lays at the end of the tunnel. It was a little red light blinking in the midst of the darkness. I blinked and stared at it. It stopped blinking, but shone bright red now. Had it always been there and I just hadn't noticed? What the hell was that? I moved slightly, reminding myself that I couldn't exactly get up to see what it was. Well, I could try, but I'd rather not. The puddle of blood I was sitting in was starting to loose its disgusting warmth, and the coldness of the floor was making itself known again. Jesus, am I dead yet? I continued to stare at the little red light, wondering if whatever lay around it in the darkness would come into focus if I looked long enough. So I just sat there, waiting for myself to die, and wondering if my curiosity would be satisfyed before I went. Or maybe someone thinks I should be tormented even more and stuck that stupid light there to taunt me. I probably deserved it anyway.
After a few moments, I looked away, tired of the constant brightness of red burning into my retinas. Returning my gaze to the darkness around me, a stupid after image of the red light blinked in my head, worsening my headache. My stomach gave a painful lurch and the feeling that I was going to throw up came back. A feeling like a finger prodding me from the inside of my head made me cough suddenly; more warm blood trickled down my chin and down my shirt. Damnit, the shirt was annoying the hell out of me. It was so gross and warm and sticky and disgusting to touch. I thought for a moment, then used my better arm to rip the remaining strands of red-soaked fabric off of me. The threads caught on my back and stung horribly for a few seconds before they snapped and I threw the rag at Aymichi's head, half-hoping it would cover his stupid grin. I missed. My bare back then leaned back against the freezing, freezing wall, and I wondered again when I was going to die.
//Hey, Yammy. Do'ye got any last words?// A voice pipped up out of no where. "What's the point? There's no one to here me." I answered it allowed, not really realizing that I was talking to myself again. //So? Takeru can hear you, can't he?// I swallowed some blood that had been in my mouth, gagging at the bitter taste. Could he here me? I didn't know; he was an angel, but would be even want to look at me after all that I'd done? //Kari can hear you. And Sora and Joe and Mimi. They can all hear you. // Yeah, they're probably all up there, just waiting for me to die. I was waiting for me to die. Why wasn't I dead yet? I had holes all over me; there couldn't be that much blood in me. My heartbeat was still thumping against my chest, but each beat sent pain through my chest. I thought I saw Aymichi's lip twitch, still grinning. Was he really dead? Was he just pretending and waiting for me to die as well? Was the pit where I was to spend all the rest of eternity all fired up to recieve my wretched soul? Were they waiting as well? Was I just still living on borrowed time? //Probably.//
I took a deep breath and sighed again. My lungs burned; my heart burned; my shoulder burned when I relaxed my muscles again; my stomach burned at the slight movement, and continued to burn. "I'm sorry 'Teeks,..." My voice was barely a whisper, my chest hurt even more with the talking, and my throat decided to jump on the bandwagon and start aching like hell too. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry that I was stupid." I paused, wondering if anyone was actually hearing me. Did I believe in angels? Did I believe in God? I don't know. I just felt like talking, even if it hurt so fucking much. "Mimi, Joe, Sora,...I'm sorry,...Hikari,...God, I'm so sorry,...I-I,...I,..." I didn't know what to say to her, if she was listening, if I could really talk to her again; I don't know what I would say, what could I say? I fucking killed her! I slit her throat and I killed her; what could I possibly say? "I-I...forgive me,..." A voice snorted in my head, "I don't deserve it,...I know,...I'm sorry,...I'll never see you again, but I'm sorry,...I don't expect you to forgive me; I wouldn't forgive me, but,..." I trailed off again.
//What are you saying, Yama-chan? Are you really begging for forgiveness when you know you don't deserve it?// I don't know,...I,...I guess I wanted them to remember me before I went insane with grief and anger and shit,...I guess I wanted them to hate me for me now, but remember that I hadn't always been like that? //Oh, but weren't you always like that, Yammy? Short-tempered, stupid, hot-headed, protective, did I say stupid yet? And quick to make stupid decisions? You don't deserve their forgiveness.// So, I don't. Goddamnit, I hate me. Am I dead yet?
"Taichi,...Taichi, Taichi, I'm sorry,..." I looked up into the darkness, not really knowing why. Taichi wasn't up there, after all. He was probably with the police somewhere, with his parents, at home maybe, mourning over the loss of the sister I had killed. He wouldn't hear me. He wouldn't hear my useless apologies or lamentations. He wouldn't hear that I was sorry. It didn't matter. He'd never forgive me anyway. "It's my fault, isn't it? It was all my fault from the start. You understood it; I didn't. You were right; I was wrong. You were smart; I was stupid. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,...I could say that til my voice breaks and my heart blows up, but it won't make any difference will it? I'm sorry, Tai,..." I realized I was crying. The warm tears tumbled shyly down my cheeks and mixed with the half-dried blood elsewhere streaked across my face. Tears, tears, those forbidden tears.
I hadn't cried when Takeru died. I hadn't cried when Mimi died. I hadn't cried when Joe or Sora died. I hadn't even cried when I commited murder; I hadn't cried when Kari died. But I could cry now,...I guess.,..because it didn't matter anymore. I didn't have to pretend I was strong because I knew I wasn't. Everyone knew I wasn't. If I had been strong, then I could have cried then instead of now. If I had been strong, there wouldn't even be a now. If I could have been strong,...his sister would still be alive. If I had been strong, so many things could have been different, could have been better perhaps. But I wasn't, and I cried out everything that had been held back and vented away in other ways. But I no longer wielded a knife and I could no longer get up without hurting like hell and I could no longer find ways to distract myself from the guilt,...the grief,...the...everything. It didn't matter anyway. "I'm sorry Taichi,...Izzy,...Dad,..Mom,..." A laugh came up out of no where, sounding strangled admist my tears. It was funny. When would I have ever expected myself to die cold and alone beside a guy who'd murdered so many of my friends and crying my eyes out?
I'm so sick of myself. Am I dead yet? I let my hands fall down to my sides; they landed with a slight splash in the red pool of blood. I stared at the black ceiling, wondering if they had heard me. I could see Hell in the ceiling somewhere, the flames and pus and tears that would be greeting me there. I could hear the screams of the damned souls; I could hear Aymichi's scream, but a further away sound was Takeru's laugh, Mimi's giggles, Joe's good-natured chuckle, Sora's smile, and Kari's weird grin. Somewhere far away was Tai laughing at Izzy's nerdy dorkiness. Somewhere far away in the memories was a lot of things I thought I'd forgotten. I leaned my head back against the wall, my throat gulped hard, tiring of its work. "I'm sorry,..." Life sucks and then you die.
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Kiriska: Not really satisfied with how that ended, but oh well. -.-;; Wow, that was a really long, pointless, and off-tangent chapter! But I suppose his thoughts wouldn't have been very organized at the brink of death anyway. Mehff,...next chapter is either Taichi or Koushirou's POV, obviously, and whoever I don't do next chapter will get the final chapter. Do me a favor and pick who you'd like to have the next chapter, please? Review, m'friends, please do review.
