What am I?
The question so fundamental in nature that undoubtedly every human being found it crossing his or her mind at one point or another. More likely, you found it lurking there in the back of your mind, resounding as a desperate shout from the dark caves of the subconscious. No doubt, it is the motivating factor in many of the things that are accomplished in this world. All religions are founded on it, all manners of society call upon it, whether they know it or not. For many people it's just a part of everyday life, unnoticeable unless the fact is called upon. Pein was a different matter.
The question echoed in his head like a screaming banshee, tearing him apart from the inside out. Every nerve cried out for relief, for an answer, and yet nothing came. It was like slowly being burned from the inside out, with your heart doused in hot, slippery oil. Like a wild animal clawing for freedom, it brought a greater pain than anything of the physical matter could ever hope to cause. Every moment of every day, it was there, laying in wait for the darkness to come and give it free rein. And then it came out to destroy.
It wasn't noticeable, of course. Pein went upon his everyday business with that stoic coldness that suggested a man incapable of that kind of internal torture. Everyone who saw him would never guess that this entity…this god was undergoing a struggle so deep that it rocked him to the very core. It was simply…unthinkable. He was too hardened to that, too…severed from all emotions. But no matter what, he'd never been able to sever that link to the turbulent psychological core. That question which had once been the slight echo heard even by the ones around him, had grown and lashed out as his successes and kills had.
Man or monster? God or demon? Those were what he demanded to know. Those questions were what the storm inside needed answered. A god, that's what he told himself he was. No…that was what he had become. He had all the power, the judgment, the mindset and mercilessness of one. But still, he'd never forget the day he'd looked straight into Konan's eyes…the pure eyes of an angel that so contrasted his own…and he'd seen nothing in them. Nothing at all. The light that had been inside of them, the beautiful sparkle that he'd grown so fond of was gone. And he knew it had been because of him. He'd taken her very soul from her, turned her into an emotionless, submissive creature that was no longer even human. He could argue as much as he wanted that it had been for the best, that he'd given her a higher plane of living, but he'd be lying. He'd killed her. He'd killed the only thing that had ever mattered to him. Everything he touched just turned to ruins.
Innocent children, young wives, the old and the feeble, Pein had killed just about every type of person imaginable. From the homeless who spoke out against him, to the rich and slick politicians, they'd all shed blood because of him. His hands were so covered in blood that it extended all over him, each inch of flesh flaked crimson from the fluids spilled by his victims. He spread a wave of hatred and prejudice, caught the innocent in it and watched as his village was engulfed in a fake sense of victory. They didn't know that the very man they attributed this 'accomplishment' to would soon kill them all. Even he could see that this was the very description of a demon, a creature crawling from hell and bringing along the greatest Pandora's box yet.
Then there was the other side of the conflict. The side that tugged to win the war with the other, catching him in the middle. Pein was worshiped; there was no doubt about that. Loved by many, admired by all in the village. Even the smallest of children could be seen paying attribute to him…and undoubtedly the older ones learned of his accomplishments in school, whether they were true or not. The villagers had no way of knowing rumors from truth. This was all for good reason, of course. He'd saved them from oppression. He'd freed them…he was their Savior. This god had come along and swept all the bad people away, leaving room for the good to prosper, for the hungry children to find happiness and wealth. No longer were there dark corpses littering the street corners, no longer could crying be heard clearly, no matter where you went. He'd brought life to the dead, in a sense. That was what a god did, and that was the reason why he was what he was.
It wasn't so much the fact that there were these two sides to him; that was easily tolerable. Every man had these two natures, the good and the evil inside. And they lived with this every day. But Pein denied his demons, blocked off the 'evil' side and focused on the good. He didn't let himself see the other side; he muffled it, and killed it. He was good, a savior, the beloved god. There was no way he would ever consider the fact that he could, in fact, be a monster. But there was no way to completely deny it, and it ached inside of him, screaming for release, for acknowledgement. His mind scrambled in turmoil, the other side peeking through and beginning to destroy everything he'd built up, all the illusions he'd created for himself. The one thing he couldn't control…and that was his himself, the one deep down that he continued to restrain. It killed him from the inside out, it really did. And it would follow him until the end…that single question, what his whole existence was wrapped around. The unanswerable pondering that has wasted many a lives.
What am I?