Graveyards — Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I do not own -Man.

And here I was, laying in the graveyard after a particularly miserable day of surviving.

'I'm already 14, shouldn't I have something to actually do?

'a life goal?

'a purpose?

'something better to do than just surviving?'

I held out a dirty, rotted hand above me, trying to count the amount of people that had died because they touched me, because they got too close.

Because they touched one of these hands that are the bane of my existence, and then their existence was wiped away in seconds.

'I want to die.'

Will that make it up to them? That I took my own life because I ruined theirs?

I pulled my hand down.

I couldn't count them all.

I looked back up at the gloomy clouds flying overhead. It's going to rain soon.

"I could bring your loved one back for you~"

I looked up at the intimidating yet not-intimidating figure above me.

Had that been directed at me? What was the question again?

I considered his statement before responding in what was probably the most grief filled tone I had ever used.

"Which one?"

I smiled up at him. I sounded so broken, even to my own ears.

He looked surprised and considering, before looking at me again— was that pity?— and disappearing.

"Great." I mumbled to myself, "I'm such a dark soul that not even the god of the underworld or whoever he was will grant my wishes." Nevertheless, I felt as if I had dodged a bullet.

And yet, the contemplative and somewhat suicidal part of me was saying that I shouldve let that bullet pierce me through the heart.

I felt the rain as it started gently falling, and a part of me enjoyed the cold relief it brought while another part said to get out of the rain before you catch a cold, idiot.

After they duked it out, I went with the lazier option, maybe simply because my hands began their daily aching once again and the pain was telling me to not move.

I sighed as the ground around me began to turn to mud, and I myself started to get uncomfortably wet.

Suddenly, I found an umbrella blocking my view of the sky, as well as the rain, and I turned towards the second looming figure this evening.

"You shouldn't be laying on the ground in this weather, miss, you'll catch cold."

'Yes,' my mind said, 'Thats what I thought earlier.'

But I continued to stare at the young intruder, idly noting that there was another older man with startlingly red hair in the background.

White hair, pale eyes, pale skin, shockingly dark red scar marring his face, kind smile...

(Allen Walker, Destroyer of Time, protagonist, says my mind, ever so gently)

'Why, he's just the opposite of me, isn't he? I have dark hair, eyes, and skin, as well as a light scar on the same cheek to match...'

'And... I don't think... I could ever make a smile like that, not as I am now...'

As I stayed quiet in my ponderings, it seems he began to worry there was something wrong.

"Are you okay? You aren't hurt, are you?"

'You aren't hurt, are you?'

I laughed to myself, smile somehow reaching my lips, relieving the young boy in front of me. (Allen, he's Allen, says my mind again, more firmly this time)

I'm so very hurt... and I doubt you'll be able to fix me.

"Kill me."

He looked taken aback now, and a little scared.

'You'll just end up dead like all the others...'

I looked back away from him, smiling grimly.

"I want to die..."

The rot made it's way through my glove, almost as if reacting to my emotions. It bled into the ground, turning it black, as the grass withered away.

"Don't get close to me. You'll end up like all the others..."

I was suddenly curious as to what their reactions would be, so I turned back. The young boy, about 12, maybe younger, (AllenAllenAllen,) seemed to be silently asking the man behind him for help.

The man (CrossCrossCross, my mind whispered,) looked at the ground beneath my hands, then, seeming to come to a conclusion, stepped forward.

"Are you Ammazzare?"

At my blank response of surprise, (because how did he know me I'manobody) he continued,

"I'm pretty sure you have something we want, so come with us."

Something you want?

What could you possibly want from me? I have nothing for you, unless you wish for your own death.

'pleasepleaseplease please don't die please get up please don't tell me you're dead deaddeaddead'

'not another one itwasonlyagame he was so nice whywhywhy'

After all, I've killed enough people to fill several graveyards.

CHAPTER 1 — END

A/N: So tell me what you think, ideas, mistakes, constructive criticism, compliments, or just encouragement? Just a few minutes of your time means a lot!

Chapter 2 will be out tomorrow, then after that no actual set time for updates.

Mata ne,

-Koneko