Chapter 10. Insanity isn't the only that rips apart the soul.
Warnings. AU, Angst, Yaoi, adult themes.
Disclaimer; I do not own gravitation but I do own this story
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Insanity comes on many levels, each one breath-taking in the highest degree of absolution. Each stroke, each blood curdling second, each piece of skin clawed off in a self inflicting blur is exhilarating. Throwing my head back, my neck painfully exposed, my muscles strained and torn from the angle makes me wish to be bathed in blood. Coat my skin with hot boiling liquid, throw me to the ground and let my skin become torn, exposed, and flawed. I will not cry for your amusement but for the gods in my head. I will not scream for self preservation but for forsakenment. I will not die with a peaceful mind but with a turbulent soul.
These are the ancient words that I encrypted into to brain decades ago, when my heart still bled and my soul still shook with mortal wrath. I was young then, locked in a cage of child naivety, my eyes glowing with a light that I hoped desperately world not be extinguished. Fear, I still had the audacity to run from it. Pain, I still had contempt for it. The night, I still wished to forget its existence. The future, I still raced towards it, hoping to prove himself and trying desperately to shake the chains of loneliness that had attached to my skin and suck at my essence like a leech. I had forged, carved into my mind the ridiculous theory that if I tried hard enough, worked till my fingers bled, and ignored the thoughts that struck me and condemned me to be different that I would succeed. That I could bath in the light and feel relief, that my soul could be calm.
I was a fool, a child mislead by the words of society and the false concepts that they shoved down my throat until I thought I would suffocate. Perhaps I had. It wasn't until years later, millions of seconds, and hours wasted with fruitless results, that I found those words and wrapped them around my heart like a shield. The simplicity, the power that was excreted from each letter bewitched me. Lured me to repeat them over and over again till my tongue bled and my throat had became raw. I didn't know their meaning, the importance that they offered. No, to me they were just the remnants of a forgotten writer, a being that had been plagued by darkness, tortured by self demons, and left to die alone.
To someone that has nothing to look forward to, insanity is a perfect, succulent peach. Each slice of its plump flesh dripping with a syrupy, false illusion of bliss. God, how I loved to indulge in this act that rivaled carnal sin. To be swept away, to hang unattached as the world passes you by, it truly makes your flesh crawl. Everything is the perfect image, the perfect equation, and desire of the mind. If being dead has taught anything, it's that nothing goes as planned, nothing is routine, and nothing is what you expect. Truth be told I didn't know what expect when I died, when I was alive, when I was left with only my shadow to contemplate what the moon was and how the world continued to rotate and leave me in its shadow.
A lost puppy, the term disgusting and befitting.
Now I am completely bathed in insanity. I know this, find it maddening, and wished I possessed the strength to kill myself. To throw open the warped, termite eaten doors belonging to the hell I resided in and allow the sun to flick my flesh straight down to the bone. Hn, wouldn't that be something.
However I have surprised myself and therefore must remedy the situation. For the first time in a hundred years I am perplexed, I am angry, I am truly annoyed….i am ….i am composed and coated with the feelings of a human. My skin burns and sticks to my frozen bones like glue, it's coarse and disgusting. My mind shakes in anger and I left feeling swallowed. It's sickening, it's repulsing, and strikes an urge in me that brings me to my knees and makes my hand quake with the desire to rip my own eyes out. I do not wish to lay sight on the creature, the being of lower status that has inflicted these wounds upon me.
So here I am, my body sprawled across rotting wood. Its surface littered in filth and its core reeking of death and decay. My own sanctuary destroyed in an instant as a human presses his body against its walls. I feel the need to vomit.
A tune passes through his lips making his jugular bounce up and down as he smiles and his eyes glaze over. He's lost in his own little world, his hands moving up and down as if playing with a puppet. I'm the puppet. "I had to pick a crazy one didn't I" I mumble and shield my eyes from the sight. I think I'm suffering from illusions. My diseased conscious has created a hallucination in order to torture me. My master, my sire, the night has sent a demon to chain me and destroy what is left of my mind. Looks like many more years of self loathing are in store for this little slip up.
He starts to sing. His voice sweet, soft, angel like; it hypnotizes me and I find myself slipping. Anger rises as he continues to play with the stale air in this house. I finally snap though and give in to the urge to scream. My voice shatters him, awakens him from his spell and causes him to turn his lively eyes upon me. He smiles, making me squirm, and tilts his head to the side. I growl. Annoyed at the sudden foolishness and somehow find my voice filling the air. "Why in the world do you find that interesting? What got tired playing with your imaginary dolls or did they desert you because you're stupid?"
"Does it hurt?" His voice answers me. It was not the response I was expecting and it left me wondering what type of game the brat was trying to lure me into.
"Does what? The way I plan on killing or the mere sound of the shrill hell spawned buzzing that your voice makes?" He giggles, bringing a perfect hand up to grace his lips as he closes his eyes and seems to whisper to the house. My stomach turns at the sight. In my mind it's like a game of cat mouse.
"Noooooo! You! Does it hurt? Can you feel pin picks upon your skin? Does you flesh burn since you're dead? Hiro thinks it does so I have to know!" He seemed to explode with life. Each word that fell from his mouth replayed slowly in my mind as if I was witnessing an old fashion movie. There were no words to describe my reaction.
"Why don't you go back to playing with your imaginary doll before you really set me off you vile human! Why? Why? Why? That's all that it is with you creatures. Show them something worthy of being a freak and they gush as if they have no mental awareness. The only thing that makes you different, that keeps me from killing you is that you're insane!" These threats were useless. I knew it and saw the result before me; the pink haired youth barely flinched. No shiver of fear ran down his spine, no spark went off in his head; no scream was emitted at the site of my brutish appearance. It was fucking hilarious.
However seconds passes as he grew agitated. He pouted, crossed his arms, and seemed to stare me down. "Hiro is not a doll. He is apart of me. Why else would I play with him?"
"Maybe he's really fake and the world just can't stand you so decided to invent something get over not having the power to kill yourself" I felt better after this. Seeing the expression of slight rage that flirted across his face made my lips twist perfectly. I still didn't know why I was answering him, conversating with him, giving in to the foolish desire to humor him. I hadn't committed such an act in over thirty years. The action now seemed alien, unworldly, cold. My tongue felt thick, swollen, the feeling equal to that of when I had just feasted.
Then again what else could I do? The sun was reigning supreme in the sky and slaughtering while light coated everything with a burning film was as amusing as watching field mice look for food. All I could do was sit and play. Perhaps though, finding more about this thing would lead me to finding the path to finally killing him.
"Hn. Anyway what are you? Are you a deformed human?" He asked me puzzled before clapping his hands together. "I know, you got captured by the government and had tests done to you! Or maybe you're like the people that hang out under the bridges and pretend to be some ghastly creature!" If it was even possible I felt my jaw detach itself and hang lose at that comment. That was the most random presumption of what I was that I ever had the chance to ear. It made me want to explode like an atom bomb.
"Stop fucking around!" I screamed and felt my throat burn raw. I was tired of watching his stupid smile, seeing his gleeful eyes. I knew what he really thought of me and this act of playing the village idiot was getting as old as the decaying house I resided in. "What! Do you like that if you put on a little charade of being an idiot I'll show you some mercy? Do you really believe that crap that spews from your mouth? Do you want to know what I am! Haven't you gotten a clue from every action that I have committed? I brought you here for a reason and that was to rip your throat out and suck up the essence that flows forth." I was no longer on the floor. I had risen and seemed to fly across the room. My limbs became to take on a life of there own and I found myself latching on to his throat with my hand. He sputtered, a sneak like noise emitting from his throat, and something flashed beneath the surface of his eyes.
"I am the thing that goes bump in the night. I am the creature that would make the boogie man quake in fear. I am forsaken and you have now become damned. Your only purpose now is to become a meal. You are now labeled and sentenced to the life of a meat product. Fitting isn't it?" I brought my face o his and allowed my breath to whisper against is flesh. My eyes burned with lamented passion as I caressed his skin. This was the true game of cat and mouse. "Now, knowing this do you hear your heart threatened to explode? If it does I'll just get the chance to lick it up. Tell me, do you know what I am know? Do I finally invoke the essence of fear into that dense little mind of yours?
I smiled easily, knowing I had won and I had accomplished part of my goal. It was easier if my prey feared me for it brought with it a sense of diseased passion that was forbidden. Moving my thumb over his flushed cheeks and ripened lips I parted them and waited for his response. Counted down the seconds until I would be graced with his screams, for the pleas that would usher out of his perfect mouth and set my skin ablaze. However I wasn't rewarded.
"I….know what you are. You are the reaper….but you can't scare me." His words came in have broken sentences. Anger that was destructive and foolish over took me and I pressed down harder on his throat.
"Why the fuck is that!" I cursed, lowering myself down to the putrid level of using obscenities.
"Because in my mind everything is forsaken." It wasn't the answer I expected. Though, by now I didn't know what to expect. Reality had left me and I was trapped in the world of the sun.
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