[A/N] Euthanasiaverse. Kanda, mentions of Yullen. [A/N]
A white room with no windows and a door locked shut.
His prison, his home.
The bed was pushed off into the corner, while metal with white sheets and white blankets.
He was so sick of white. It was a sickening shade — he thought. So pure and so empty. It was void of emotion, void of colour. Void of humanity.
Maybe that's why those bastards chose it. Such an inhuman colour, inhuman like those scientists and the creations they loved so dearly for all the wrong reasons.
Yes, white suited them perfectly.
So perfect it was hilarious.
So hilarious he could just die.
Something resembling a breathless laugh escaped his lips and he rest his forearm over his eyes. He was spread out on the bed, laying over the sheets and all he'd been doing was staring at that sickeningly white ceiling.
White, white, white, white.
God, how much he hated the colour white.
He was sure no one on the planet would ever see as much white as he had.
His white prison, his white home, and the place he would surely die.
They were going to kill him.
That he was so sure.
They would murder him.
He was a nuisance, a bother, a wreck. He yelled and he hit and he broke and he tore. He destroyed their perfect world any chance he got and it infuriated them because they couldn't control him. They couldn't make him listen and behave like all of their other perfect little creations because.. Well, because he was not perfect. He was a failure, and he was going to pay for their mistakes.
They had not made him as they had made all the others.
He was not white: peaceful, empty, perfect.
He was black: destructive, endless, dark.
He was tainting what they had created. Creating imperfections in their little reality and he loved it and they would murder him for it.
He kept replaying that in his head.
That he was going to die.
And no matter how many times he thought it out — he couldn't bring himself to care.
He was a broken toy. Would you spend all your time and money to fix a toy, or would you simply buy a new one? What if the broken toy had never quite worked the way you wanted. If it malfunctioned and just never agreed. Of course, you would buy a new one. It's cheaper, and easier. And you might even end up with a better toy than you had in the first place.
You would toss the broken object away and forget it ever existed.
That's all he was to them. All he ever would be and at one point perhaps he resented that.
But now he couldn't bring himself to care.
He would never have to see that horrid colour again. That disgusting white that reminded him of everything horrible that this place had brought him.
And all of those promises of what he could have had.
That purity, the familiar silver that always regarded him with such distaste and an underlying hint of curiosity. The empty smile and the fake, cheery, wind chime laugh. The innocence that bordered on downright ignorance.
The white that was marred by a single red imperfection that just seemed so fitting.
Perhaps…
Perhaps he might miss the colour white.
/So, this is an AU setting for a story called Euthanasia. It's a semi-complicated storyline that has a lot of elements in it and shit. And the basics of it is that all of the Exorcists are experiments created by scientists to test the limits of human DNA in concerns to forced mutation of the cells as well as some shit about cloning from blah blah blah blah, fuck you don't need to know and if you want to go find the story and read it and maybe I'll update it soon.
But uhm. Kanda is an experiment who has become a failure, his 'abilities' are wearing down and he's becoming human once more. He could be fixed, but because of his volatile personality — instead he'll be "euthanized."