I own nothing. Once, I dreamed I did…but I didn't. The end.
Ghost
It is a strange feeling that hangs in the air around me now. It is cold, and damp. It feels haunted, as though there is a ghost of someone here who died with unfinished business. Perhaps someone did die here. Perhaps it was me. Did I die after the incident at the Galactic Leyline? A part of me feels like it's missing, but I can't think of what.
You were being your usual self the other day when you said I was getting lazy. It's true. I have not killed anyone in the many months since that day. I found myself voicing every excuse that came to mind; none were seeking me out, all grudges had been dropped, all enemies were vanquished. And all of these were true. My last enemy is several months dead now. It would seem my desire for revenge is now sated.
Is that why this ghost of my killing instincts still haunt me?
I cannot bear to throw away my sword. It has been my companion these many lonely years, when my family was dead and my friends nonexistent. But now it lies quietly against the door of my room, as if it too has died. Something in me feels old when I look at it, as though it has been many years since I practiced and cut down my opponents one by one. I am starting to think this idleness is driving me mad.
I ought to thank you. You, and everyone else. You are the things that keep me sane. Annoyed, perhaps, but sane nonetheless. There is a sense of normalcy here. It is natural when I see Jim typing away at the computer without a care in the world, or when Aisha passes out drunk on the couch. And yet, none of it seems real. It's like watching everything on a screen in a dark, empty room. I feel as though I'm not really here, but just another ghost, watching.
Melfina smiles at me.
That's when I crash back to reality.
You may think I'm crazy when I say this, but she terrifies me. Her purity, her innocence, her naïve goodness that symbolizes a simpler, quieter time. I dream she's an angel, sometimes. Some kind of horribly beautiful angel that can do no wrong and punishes sinners with kind words and a gentle hand. Would I die for her? Yes. I have fought to protect her several times. I will continue to do so until my nightmares and feelings of ghostliness become reality. I fear her, but I do not hate her. And if I knew how to love, I think I would love her.
If I knew how to love, I think I would love you, Gene Starwind.
I was asked once, if I did. It was a question I could not answer. When I was a child, when I had a family, and a home, and a settled life, I loved, and was loved then, I think. But I loved and was loved in the way of a child. Not in the way of a woman. I have never felt love in the way of a woman. I have felt lust, true. But lust results in short stays in the beds of others, and quiet departures in the dead of night. That is another joke behind my name. "Twilight Suzuka." My targets are dead by evening twilight. My lovers are alone before morning twilight.
When I look in the mirror, I wonder what others see me as. Am I beautiful? I'm no judge of appearances. When I call Melfina beautiful, it's because I can see the loveliness of her soul. But my soul is ragged and worn and stained with blood. Can it even be seen through this body of mine? Through the dirt of my sins and the shadows of my doubt? Someone did once think I was beautiful. So much so that they stole my face. But they were mad. One cannot judge the conclusions of the insane as legitimate.
I would like to be loved.
Melfina is loved, and she is happy.
You are loved, and you are happy.
I am not happy, but if I were loved maybe I would be. I would like to be able to sleep at night. Every night. I would like to be able to stand in the dark and not feel cold and dead. I would like to laugh. I would like to smile at something besides the thought of victory. Is that what happiness is? The ability to sleep and laugh and smile?
Maybe not.
Before, when I truly was "Twilight Suzuka," I could sleep, and laugh, and smile. But I only slept when I was tired. I only laughed when I saw my targets do something amusing in an attempt to save their lives. I only smiled when they were dead at my feet. In that case, I was happy when I was a bloodthirsty, heartless monster. And for all the peace I had then, I'm not sure I want to be Twilight Suzuka again. I felt free then. Free of worry, of fear, of questions. It was like I was pure hatred and anger. An easy existence, but little good came of it.
I have changed, since then. For the better, I'd like to think. It's not right to live an empty existence. Being a part of this crew has given me something. I still haven't quite figured out what it is yet, but it's something. A family, I suppose. You, and Jim, and Aisha, and Melfina. You are all my family now. All of you have angered me at one point or another, but I do not doubt that I would die for any one of you at the drop of a hat. What I do doubt is that that will not change. Will I wake up one morning and decide none of you are worth it? Will I leave and become an assassin again?
If I did, I wouldn't make a very good one. I hunted then out of anger and the need to avenge my slaughtered family. But I'm not angry anymore. I've helped take down a few bounties now, but that sort of fight is never difficult. Not like the fights we faced in the past. Common criminals are a piece of cake. To be honest, if I were found myself fighting all my old battles now, I doubt I would win.
I feel like I am dead.
But I'm alive.
I want to sleep.
But I can't sleep.
I want to be held.
But there is no one here to hold me. If you walked in right now, would you? Probably not. Melfina changed us all for the better, you included. You're no womanizer anymore. I can scarcely believe the stories Jim has told me about you. Because when I look at you, you are worshipping the ground Melfina walks on. And she deserves it. She deserves to be loved unconditionally. And thank god you do, otherwise I would probably kill you.
How can I want you, knowing that if you ever wanted me back I would hate you for hurting Melfina?
I dream of you sometimes at night. I can feel your skin on mine. I can feel the scars on your arms, and on your face when it's pressed in the crook of my neck. I can hear your voice in my ear, and it sends hot shivers over my skin, chasing away the feeling of deadness that hangs around me. I wake up then, screaming your name and colder than ever. It's a lucky thing that all of you are such heavy sleepers. But I worry about Melfina. She's the only one besides me who does wake up in the night, and I wonder what would happen if she heard me.
Between the dreams of death and the dreams of unrequited desire and the tormented wakefulness it's a wonder I am not mad.
Between the constant wonderings about love and beauty and innocence it's a wonder I am not mad.
Between the lack of remorse, and the lack of passion, and the lack of security it's a wonder I am not mad.
I am not mad.
Am I?
I am not dead.
Am I?
It is a long time until morning. I will sit here, on my bed, staring into the darkness.
It is a strange feeling that hangs in the air around me now.
Fine