disclaimer: disclaimed.
dedication: to Sepsis who is adorable.
notes: can I sleep. please. please.
chapter title: handcuffs
summary: I wanna wrap my hands around that pretty neck and squeeze. — Exwires.
—
.
.
.
.
.
Konekomaru kills simply.
With words, of course. It is the simplest of all the meister classes, he thinks, Aria. It is the simplest and the most elegant. He kills without his hands turning red, and he kills without anyone getting hurt. He kills with words and sentences; it is Fatal Verse, times a thousand.
He's the quick-talker of the three of them—Renzou smooth-talks and Bon doesn't talk period, so Konekomaru quick-talks them out of the trouble that they invariably walk into. Aria suits him well. The words are nimble on his tongue, little manipulations of sound spat out from the clench of his throat.
He never stumbles.
Konekomaru kills because if he does not, the people that he loves will die, and this is intolerable. He is physically weak; too weak to kill someone with his hands, too small to rob something of its' life.
And the Bible is a fantastic way to kill some time.
(Always killing something, then.)
It is an arresting thought, heady; that only words alone could commit such a terrible crime. Sometimes, Konekomaru lies on his back and whispers the verse to himself in the dead of night, when no one else is around to hear. He breathes them in and out, kissing the air, and thinks about the splatter of blood; he forgets that he is supposed to be the better man.
He kills without preamble and without fuss, because words are his weapons. He kills, silvertongue and moral. He kills and kills and kills.
If part of his soul drowns in the process, he does not acknowledge it.
"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet—"
The demon screeches.
"—and a light unto my path!"
Poof.
Konekomaru kills simply.
tbc.