A/N: Sorry this took so long to get up. I was excessively busy last week.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you can hear them.

Their voices echo in your mind, bouncing around like the most profound of miracles. They whisper glorious things in your ear, promise things that you could never attain on your own.

Its motherfucking beautiful. The Mirthful messiahs preach to you, telling you what you need to do in order to please them. They're showing you the power you have, how great you were really meant to be. They're whispering your place in the world, and how you were destined to rule over all the others. They were worthless under you.

You believed with all your corrupted heart that they were right.

You hang onto their every word like it's a lifeline, drowning in the sweet scent of blood, the sharp tang coating your tongue, allowing your mind to succumb to bliss.

It feels so wonderful. So motherfucking wonderful. Every single time that miracle powder comes near your nose, your body ignites with a feverish fire, and your eyes delve into the realm of the messiahs.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you are a drug addict.

Problem is, you're delusional, and this fact isn't exactly apparent to you.

You remember when you once had a family. Your father and your mother loved you unconditionally, and your little stepsister absolutely adored you. You loved those days, when you were young, when you were carefree. Your father with his silent tongue would smile at you, and your step-mother would laugh at your jokes, turning up her hearing aid as high as she could. Your little sister Nepeta would curl up next to you, making cat puns and sketching in her sketchbook.

Those were the carefree days. The wonderful carefree days.

The days that ended all too soon.

You had lots of friends back then. Eridan, Feferi, Kanaya, Terezi, Vriska, Aradia, Sollux, and even the creepy sweaty dude that Nepeta hung out with. And of course you couldn't forget Tavbro and Karbro. You spent a majority of your life with Karkat at your side. He was raised by his older brother, a pretentious little fucker that spoke too much and thought too little. Gotta hand it to him though, must've been horrible trying to raise your lil' bro while going through psychology college. Little fucker survived though, got a degree in psychology and everything, and even managed to make sure that Karkat didn't end up all sorts of fucked up when he was older.

Even with all these things, you really really motherfucking hated Kankri Vantas.

So you were going to kill him.

You trudge through the light drizzle of rain that's falling. Your foot aches where that motherfucker sliced you yesterday. Motherfucker left a hugeass gash in your calf that throbbed like the beats to a strange song, echoing the thrum of your overdosed heart. You flip up your hood, and shove your hands into your pockets where your favorite motherfucking switchblade was stored.

In front of you is Karbro's brother's apartment. You open the door, and step into the hallway, your heavy gait echoing up the stairs.

Your ring the doorbell to the apartment, and hear shuffling inside. Footsteps come closer, closer, until the doorknob rattles and you can feel your heart hammering with anticipation.

He opens the door, his eyes radiating confusion and alarm. He steps back a bit, still holding onto the frame.

"May I ask who you are?"

You laugh at his words. Your motherfuckin spine tingles as you hear the mirthful messiahs goading you on, telling you to end him, to watch as the life leeches out of him. You violently step forward, causing him to take another two steps back, and you slowly close the apartment door behind you. You can feel your fingers vibrating on the switchblade in your pocket.

Pictures line the walls, most of them featuring Karkat, Kankri, and Kankri's roommate, Porrim. You spot the picture on his mantleplace that shows a picture of a baby Karkat, held in his father's arms, and Kankri standing beside him peering down at the tiny motherfucker. You smell books and Jasmine scented perfume, the scent of it tickling your nose. The whole apartment emanates a cozy feeling that takes you back, resurfacing old memories of your childhood. For a brief moment, your mother's warm smile cuts through your drug-induced haze. You can feel your father's gentle touch on your back, and your little sister's high airy laugh. You freeze momentarily, stunned by it all.

"What are you doing here? Who are you?"

His voice pops you out of your flashback, and you almost wanna motherfucking strangle him for taking away your hallucinations. It had felt so real…..after so long.

You turn to the man, immediately struck by how much he resembled Karbro. He had bright green eyes, a startling contrast to Karkat's unnaturally red ones. His skin is perfectly tanned, his hair neat and tidy, his glasses perching at the end of his nose. You can feel yourself sneer.

"Nice to meet you again motherfucker. Been a long time," you say in your gritty voice, flipping down your hood, revealing the scars that stretched diagonally across your face. You see his eyes widen in fear.

"Oh god, it's you. You're Kurloz's son aren't you? I remember when Karkat used to play with you before….." He pauses, his gaze piercing through your skull. You knew good and well what he was insinuating. Your blood began to boil as you whipped out your switchblade and tackled the smaller man to the floor.

Within moments, you were straddling him, your knife pressed against his throat. Leaning in close, you start whispering right next to his ear.

"I've been waiting to do this for a long time, you motherfucking waste of air. The mirthful messiah's will give me my righteous award,"

And with that, you take the knife, and lodge it in his ribcage.

A spray of bright red blood coats your face when the knife goes in. You hear Kankri's scream subdue into a gurgle as he clutches his chest. He's looking at you, blood leaking from his lips, his eyebrows furrowed in pain.

He whispers one last word before he goes still.

"Karkat,"

You sit there for a moment, staring at the scene. Blood is coating the carpet, turning it a garish red color. You turn to leave.

And you end up face to face with a very pale and shocked looking Karkat Vantas.

He stands there, staring at his brother's bloody figure. A gurgled noise escapes his throat that you think is some sort of subdued scream. He looks at you, eyes engulfed half by pain, half by shock.

"Did you fucking….oh god….you killed him…YOU KILLED HIM YOU BASTARD!"

Karkat charged at you, pulling something off the shelf. Before you know it, he's got you pinned against the wall, his prized sickle looping across your left shoulder. You grin lazily, his angry expression filling your vision. It felt good to see him again, almost like your body was being plunged into the white powder the mirthful messiahs gave you.

Karkat brings his face dangerously close to yours. His expression radiates pure fury. You flinch almost imperceptibly. You've never seen this side of Karkat before. To you, he'd always been that motherfucking pansy that used to cry whenever he fell off the jungle gym in the playground.

This Karkat though, he was inhuman, almost animalistic.

"WHY DID YOU KILL HIM!?"

You grin, and laugh a bit. Oblivious little motherfucker he was.

"The mirthful messiahs'll be mighty pleased with me for getting rid of this motherfucking waste of space,"

Karkat yells, a deep guttural noise. You feel a sickening pain spreading from the left side of your body. You grunt and fall to your knees, clutching your shoulder. You looked at your hand, only to find it covered in your own red blood.

Your Karbro looks at your shoulder in shock, like he can't believe he cut you. He walks over to his brothers body, sinking to his knees. You can see tears slipping from the sides of his eyes, dripping down to mix with the blood.

"Get out," he whispers. You simply sit there.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT YOU BASTARD!"

You rise to your feet, and walk out of the apartment, wobbling slightly. Blood's seeping between your fingers, dripping down your arm.

The rain is pouring down in sheets now, and you quickly shuffle towards the nearest alleyway, where you'll be able to find some sparse shelter. You feel yourself coming off of your high, the real world assaulting your senses, the chants of the mirthful messiahs fading and pain taking their place.

You under an overhang and take off your hoodie to see the damage done to your shoulder. A quick peek tells you that its cut to the bone. Pain and lack of blood starts to make you dizzy, tunnel vision creeping in too fast for your liking.

Your mind flashes back to the memory that flashed at you earlier. You envision your stepmother in your mind's eye, her gorgeous laugh bubbling up whenever you tried to perform a magic trick for her. You remember your father, who was mute from an accident he had when he was a teenager. He was always there for you, a warm hand guiding you in the right direction. You remember your nep-sis, with her innocent smile and chubby pubescent cheeks. A smile lights your lips as you envision them.

Then, just as soon as the happy memory leaves, the heartbreaking one appears.

You snap back into a world of lucid memories and foggy colors.

==== Years in the Past.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you're in pain.

You're pinned under the seat, struggling to get loose. The air feels stale, and you struggle to breathe, your chest aching with every heaving gasp. You can feel something warm and wet trickling down your head, down your neck, into your collar.

Gasping, you locate the shattered window, and slide your small lanky 14-year old body through. You sprawl out onto the street, your chest heaving and your vision spinning and shifting like some type of strange kaliedescope. Everything is shattered, making you sick and dizzy. You shake your head violently, sending drops of blood spraying. It serves to clear up your vision considerably as you look back at the mess that was once your car.

Your heart drops into your stomach when you realize that nobody else is coming out.

You ignore the pain emanating through your body and scramble towards the front of the car, you brush the glass aside and peer inside.

Your heart nearly stops.

Inside lie your father and stepmother, curled around eachother. Blood is coating every single surface. You feel warm tears slip down your cheeks.

"Dad? Mom?"

You hear a shuffling noise from inside the car, and you turn to see your father's purple eyes trained on you. They're droopy, tears flowing slowly and steadily from them. He grimaces in pain.

You place your hands on both of his scratched up cheeks, holding his head steady. You can hear him groaning in pain, his breath light, too light. He looks at your stepmother sadly, his eyes mourning her. He opens his mouth.

You nearly fall over in shock as he begins to speak.

At first its garbled, but after a few moments, he's able to get a coherent word out, his voice gritty and gravelly from years of disuse. He looks at your stepmother once more.

"Meulin," he says sadly, gazing at her light brown skin. She and Nepeta are indian, whereas you and your father are half-mexican, half- African American. You hear him wheeze and gasp suddenly as he shifts towards you. He manages to pry his mangled arm from the wreckage, and reaches up to stroke your cheek. You shudder, realizing that you've been sobbing this whole time.

"Gamzee," he whispers, his eyes drooping, "You…..Nepeta…..Meulin….love….all…you," he coughs out, blood spraying from his mouth. His head collapses back on the shards of metal it was on. He turn's and smiles at you.

"Son,"

And with that, he goes completely still.

Quick as a flash, you take his phone and call emergency services. As soon as the call ends, you chuck the phone into the grass, and collapse, holding your face to your knees.

You have no idea how long you sat there, staring at his still form. You remember screaming his name, screaming your mother's name, just generally screaming. You sit there, clutching your skinny form and sobbing. The only thing that breaks you out of your trance is a small whimpering sound from the other side of the car. You drag yourself over, weak and sick from pain and heartbreak.

The whimpering continues, and you glance into the window side. There, sitting in the wreckage, is Nepeta. She's crying and whimpering, holding her arm and lying there. Blood is drenching the front of her shirt, turning it a greenish red. Quick as a flash, you scoop up and hold your eleven year old sister to your chest. She looks up at you, her eyes panicked and scared.

"Gamzee?"

"Shhhh, I'm right here Nep. Just stay calm,"

"Gamzee it hurts,"

"I know sis, I know. Just bear it for a little bit,"

"Gamzee, where are mom and dad?"

"They're alright Nepeta, just calm down,"

Sirens blare in the distance, and suddenly, you feel tired. You drop to your knees, holding your incredibly small sister tight. She looks so delicate, like fine china that's going to snap at a single rough touch. She's covered in blood, and her arm is bent strangly, as is one of her legs. You look at her face, and to your alarm, her eyes are drooping as she clutches the front of your shirt.

"Nep, stay awake," You tell her. Her eyelids flutter slightly.

"I feel so tired Gamzee, I wanna sleep,"

"No, stay awake Nepeta!" you yell, your voice reaching a new level of desperation as you realized that she was the only family you had. You shake her slightly, and she flinches a bit, her grip on your shirt weakening.

"Gamzee, I can't stay awake, I'm just too sleepy," she whimpers. Her arms drop their grip on the front of your shirt.

"No! No! No look, I'll roleplay with you Nepeta, you love roleplaying right?! The giant clown seizes the little kitten and hugs her to death!"

You yell at her, trying to keep her awake, but you can feel her breath getting shallower and shallower. You can see red and blue lights in the distance, flashing like a beacon over the deserted back-country road that your family was driving on. You try to goad Nepeta into staying awake for just a bit longer.

Her little body has gone limp in your grip, and she simply lays there, cuddling into your chest almost like the little cats she loves so much. Her breathing is fast and light, and there's blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

Then, with almost no warning whatsoever, her breathing stops.

You enter an eerie calm and lucid state, where you simply look at her still form. You remember yelling as soon as the ambulance stops nearby. You remember a kindly nurse with swirly tattoo's taking Nepeta from your steely grip, while another nurse with white glasses picks you up gently, and carries your lanky body to the ambulance. You see people rushing towards the car, where your parent's bodies are lying, cold, dead, and lifeless.

They take you inside the ambulance, and lay you down on a cot. You feel dizzy, your vision tunneling dangerously fast. You hear doctors yelling something beside you.

"Clear!"

You swivel your head to see doctors pressing paddles to the space right beneath Nepeta's chest. You watch her tiny body arc upwards, then fall back down limply.

Suddenly, something within you breaks.

You become a raging monster, clawing at the doctors, trying to scramble to her side. You punch, bite, and claw your way through them, pain gone and adrenaline taking its place. They continue shocking her chest, ignoring your guttural cries.

"YOU'RE KILLING HER, SHE'S GOING TO DIE!" You scream. Suddenly, you hear a shrill gasp.

Nepeta's eyes open as her body arches up. She stays like that for a few seconds, before her eyes close and she falls back onto the bed, her chest heaving. The doctor slumps with relief. She puts the paddles away and starts hooking things up to your stepsister.

You feel the fight leaving you, adrenaline draining away. Pain wracks through your body, making the world shift and swirl underneath you. You whisper one last thing before you black out.

"She can't die,"

The world dissolves into black swirls.

=== Years in the future

Your name is Dave Strider, and you went and fucked up again.

For years you promised yourself that you would protect him, that you wouldn't let him meet the same gristly end as your parents. You toughened him up, showing him how to defend himself. You showed him how to hide his emotions, how to remove vulnerability from his being.

But in the end, he fucking ends up in the same situation your parents were.

You lied to him when you were younger, telling him that your mom died of cancer, and that your dad died of heartbreak. He was so innocent then, so small. He idolized you, the older brother who had everything under control.

He believed your coolkid façade. He didn't know of the nights you spent crying into your pillow, salt filling your senses. He doesn't know of the razors that were stored in your drawers when you were younger, or how you used to punch yourself, giving yourself black eyes a bruises in order to forget the pain in your heart.

You bury your head in your hands, panic crowding your senses, overloading them. Your arms are bloody, your blonde hair is tinted red on one side, and you probably look like hell based on the reaction some of the nurses had upon seeing you. You could hardly care less.

John is pacing around outside the ICU, his hands running through his hair every few seconds. He's panicking internally, his face seizing with horror at random intervals. You hear Jade growl from beside you, her voice thick with tears.

"John, sit the fuck down,"

He looks towards you, his face still contorting. Nodding, he sits by Rose, blankly staring at the wall opposite of him and bouncing his knee. Jade turns to you, concern dotting her face.

"He's going to be alright Dave. Your brother is a fighter, you raised him to be tough,"

You feel sick to your stomach, as if you're about to throw up. You see his limp cold body lying on the pavement in your mind's eye. A horrible cold feeling seeps through your veins as you start shaking, your sobs wracking through your body. Jade strokes your back consolingly, petting your hair and whispering calming words.

Suddenly, you see a doctor come out of one of the ICU's. He walks over, looking at his watch. You feel fear and elation bubble in the pit of your stomach as you realize that this doctor could either tell you the best news you've heard all day, or the worst new's you've heard in your life.

"Which one of you is Jane Crocker's family?"

You visibly deflate when you realize that this is Jane's doctor. John stands up, and the doctor nods.

"She should be alright. Had to patch up her back really well and get some more blood into her, but she'll survive," he says, writing something down on his clipboard.

John visibly relaxes, his shoulders drooping. A grin lights his face as he thanks the doctor. You bury your head further into your hands.

Agonizing hours pass, slowly trudging by. You have no news of your brother's current state, or if he was even fucking alive.

Finally, around an ass number of hours later, you see a doctor come out of the room.

His face was grim, and you feel your heart sink to your stomach. You snap upwards and run towards him. Before you know it, you're grabbing onto his collar and screaming into his face, asking him about the state of your brother.

The doctor maintains his impassive face, removing your clenched hands from his coat. He clears his throat.

"Your brother is okay, though, he is in critical state. The blade nicked a considerable size wound in his lungs and liver, and caused extensive tissue damage. So far, though, it seems as if he'll survive,"

You nearly collapse from relief, the tears flowing down your face freely now. You nod, letting out a hoarse 'thank you' before stepping back. You feel dizzy and sick from lack of food and sleep, as well as emotional exhaustion. You turn back to where the other three are sitting on the benches, leaning into each other and snoring slightly. You turn to the doctor once more.

"When can I see him?" You ask, a more stable pitch exiting your throat this time. He looks down at his clipboard.

"Well, if all goes well, you should be able to see him by tomorrow afternoon," he says. He looks behind you at your friends.

"If you want, we can offer you a room for tonight in the doctors dorms we have. Its only two floors up. I'll have someone escort you there,"

You nod, heading back to your friends and shaking them awake. The doctor writes something down and walks briskly down the hallway.

You shake John's shoulder, and he snaps up like a rod. Rose simply opens her eyes slowly. Jade whines and falls back asleep. You shrug and sling her onto your back, where she hangs on monkey-style, legs wrapped around your waist and arms wrapped around your neck. You grunt as you heave her up and join the others who are now standing in the center of the hallway with a very familiar person.

Terezi Pyrope, your prom date and ex-girlfriend, turns to you with a worried look on her face. You walk up to the group, hefting Jade up as she started to slip.

"Sup Rezi," you say, your voice hoarse and crackly. She frowns and puts and hand on your shoulder, looking at your eyes. You feel raw and exposed without your shades, but you chose to ignore the feeling for now.

"How are you handling this?" she says, her voice softer and more soothing than you've ever heard it.

"Fucking incredibly," you mumble, ducking your head down. Terezi reaches behind you to adjust Jade's head so that it wasn't hanging limply. She tenderly tucks a piece of hair behind Jade's ear in an almost motherly style, and you find yourself thankful that Terezi never hated you for dumping her all those years ago. She was still one of your best friends, and she loved Jade like a sister, always coming over and silently doting on her when she thought you weren't watching.

Suddenly, you hear an insistent beeping noise being emitted from her cell phone. She picks it out of her pocket, and walks a few steps away.

Almost as soon as she hits talk, her face develops a worried expression. She starts chewing on her bottom lip, her hand covering her mouth. A few tears slip out of the corners of her eyes.

The conversation ends and she puts away her phone with a sharp click. She turns back to the group.

"I'm sorry guys, Karkat called in with an emergency, I gotta go," She says, wiping at the few tears that managed to escape her sightless. You notice that the rest of your friends are sporting the same worried expressions that you are.

"What wrong Terezi?" John asks, his voice deep from drowsiness. Terezi shakes her head, biting her lip.

"Gamzee struck again,"

The room remains silent for a few moments. Then suddenly, you hear Jade speak up. You hadn't even realized that she was awake.

"Who's the victim?"

"K….Karkat's older brother,"

An audible intake of breath is heard echoing through the room. You can see John and Rose's mirrored expressions, and you can feel Jade's silent tears on your rub your tired eyes, your eyebrows furrowing.

"I have to go, Sollux is waiting for me outside," Terezi says suddenly, clacking away in her heels. Nobody moves for a moment, until another voice enters the room.

"The Doctor Told Me That I Am To Escort You To The Spare Room,"

You turn to see a pretty nurse standing by the door. Your group turns to follow her as she walks down the hallway.

You sigh and follow them, trying to dispel any worries that you had about your brother.

=== Days in the future, but not many

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you feel hollow.

It's been three days since your brother was killed. Three fucking days. His absence hits you like a brick, and you come to realize how influential he was in your everyday life.

You sit in bed, curled up, blankets wrapped around you. Terezi left two hours ago, going to her own apartment across the hall from yours. She originally wanted to spend the night with you, much as she had for the past three days, but you eventually convinced her that she couldn't stay forever. Besides, her dog, Lemonsnout, was probably wreaking havoc by now.

You stare at the picture on the wall blankly, allowing your mind to wander. It's a picture of your family, back when everything was okay. Your father was sitting on a rocking chair, you in his arms, reading you a storybook. Kankri was lying down nearby, listening to his ipod while doing homework. A smile graced his face.

You remember hating your brother after your dad passed away. Your remember telling him to shut up whenever he launched into one of his long rants, hiding yourself in your room whenever he tried to show you something. You remember screaming at him, telling him that he could never be as good as your father, that he was the worst guardian ever. He was calm and patient with you, and you were a horrible little brat.

You fucking regret it so much now. As the years went by, you matured and developed a sort of brotherly friendship with him, but that was only after you realized how much he went through to raise you. He was only sixteen years older than you, yet he raised you as if you were his own son. The thought clenches at your heart, and you feel your throat close up.

"I never got to tell you how much I loved you fuckass," you say, your voice taking an almost unearthly tone. You bury your face in your pillow as sobs wrack your body, and salty tears make their way down your blotchy face. You feel emotionally exhausted, your energy sapping away from you.

Without knowing it, you fall asleep.

====== Hours in the future, but not many

You feel yourself gaining consciousness, and almost immediately, you sense that something is wrong. You can no longer feel your blankets enveloping your skin, and your head feels heavy, throbbing with the beat of your heart. You feel like you're about to puke.

You open your eyes, and panic overtakes you.

You're suspended in midair, upside down, hanging five stories up from the pavement below. You pull your body up with your abdominal muscles, trying to take a glimpse your balcony.

A dark figure is standing there, dressed in a trench coat and fedora. A scar stretches vertically across his face, covered by an eyepatch. He's grinning at you, holding both your legs at the ankles.

"Ah, look who's awake," he says, his voice drawling. You flail slightly, trying to kick him off, but to no avail. You bite the gag that's covering your mouth, trying to worm it off.

"Oh don't try buddy, if I let go, you're the only one who's going to get hurt," he says. You manage to slip the gag down to your chin, and begin to yell.

"FUCK! HELP!" You manage to get out before he jolts his arms, causing your heart to plummet. He laughs wickedly.

"Ain't nobody there to help you boy," he says. You hear another voice echo from behind him.

"Let him go Slick, we can't stay here much longer. We need to get rid of him,"

The man holding your legs seems reluctant, but nods his head. He grins down at you.

"Have a nice fall asshole. Maybe you'll see your brother again,"

Suddenly, you feel weightless. Your body is heading towards the pavement at a dangerous pace. You flail around, and manage to grab one of the other balconies.

A searing pain works up your arm as your wrists dislocate from the sheer momentum of your fall. You let go, screaming.

Your body emits an audible loud crack as it meets with the hard pavement, knocking the breath from your lungs, cutting off your scream. A horrible blinding pain works its way up your body.

Then, suddenly, you feel nothing.

And the plot thickens! You'll get to find out the main villan arc in the next chapter, as well as why they're targeting the characters.

You can find sneaks peeks and stuff at my tumblr. my username is 'magnificenthoofbeasts'

~Reaper