#12dd

How did you ever come to love a man like him, a blood sucking monster who feasted on innocent humans. He lived a life if immortality, freedom, and wealth, free to do whatever he felt. But those pesky humans grew teeth, and started to lash out at the vampires who had drunk their blood for centuries. Truth was, he never really had a taste for blood, he found it gross and felt sick whenever he had too. You had known him for awhile now, out in Europe you had bumped into him at a cafe you frequented. You apologized and offered to buy him a coffee next time you two met. Neither of you knew what the other was, exchanging numbers so cluelessly.

He felt as if he had taken your kindness for granted, things would have better if he had declined your offer. You would be safe, not stuck within the clutches of vampires like him. Though your fate had been tied to his own long before he had even realized. You were a vampire hunter, you hunted down and killed these ‘mythical’ creatures. Had you known he was one of them, you would have never fallen in love with him, or so you thought.

A couple years had passed, after a couple coffees you had the guts to ask. But one day at work, you had received an order. You had found out on a mission, recognizing him on the file. How tragic and cruel the world could be to the lovers.

Meeting up underneath the moonlight at the park next to where you had first met, you gripped his cold hands. The look on his face was one knowing, you had found out the secret he so desperately wanted to keep. Burying your head into his chest, he wished he could find the words to comfort you. Looking up at him made him feel selfish for causing this and putting you into this situation. He knew there would only be one way to solve this..

The next night you had gone out, meeting him atop an old abandoned factory. With a stake made of silver in your hand and a final kiss, two lives would end tonight. Blood spilt from your human body, holding to each other as death came. Just as star-crossed lovers are doomed to end, so were you.

Immortality had always been his second greatest sin. Loving a human like you, gave warmth to his icy skin. He regretted everything, yet if he could he would do this all over again. Holding you close, you would were the final thing he could think as death consumed you both.

“My dear moonlight..”

You were sickly, you always had been. Himeru knew that, he wanted to be there for you, find a way to save you. But on that lively summer day you had gone away in just an instant. Your disease was fatal, something you would most likely not survive having. You had told him not to get too attached but he couldn’t help it. Your hand was still warm by the time he got into your room, but his own felt ice cold. Had he had tried better would you still be with him? His heart felt as if it had been shattered into a thousand pieces, irreversible and permanent. He would never be able to love another like he loved you, the one who accepted him into their heart. You understood him, loved him, and that was more than enough for him to long for your affections. You were gone, you would never be able to comfortingly kiss his forehead when he ached, never hold his hand as you did when you walked together.

That summer day the cicadas buzzed, and you laughed so brightly. It filled his heart with warmth, seeing you grinning from ear to ear. You had to go to the hospital today so he decided to treat you out. But you were the love that summer had decided to get rid of.

Why were these tears falling from his eyes, as he dreamt of you? He awoke in a cold sweat, heart racing, a feeling he didn’t want to understand. In September he left another rose by your grave, you the sweet darling of his. He wished to place a kiss on your drowning hands, but you were left to rot within the dirt. Those beasts ate away at you, digging their nails into your flesh, feasting at the sight. They devoured you until they had been filled, leaving nothing but a faint reminiscent of you.

That silent summer day, the sound of you whispering to him crowded into his head. His closest friend, and his dearest, you were gone and left him nowhere to go. Those tears filled his dreams with nightmares of you, and left him in a state of disarray. Anger filled his weeping bones and drove him to the brink.

Back again on that bridge, on that lively summer day. Where you had brightly laughed and smiled at him so many times before. Cicadas buzzed as he remembered greatly of you. On the ledge he stood, a faint smile crossed his lips. With this would you two be able to love in your transparent world forever? Stepping over, the summer breeze accepting him as he fell. Flashback, of that silent summer day, you were the love that summer had gotten rid of.

There once slept a cursed princess within a castle of thorns and briar. A knight delicate and sweet dreamt of a beautiful lady in white, love in first sight it would be. The two would desire one another, despite how temporary this dream would last. The wheel of fate spun, the thread of our cruel destiny intertwined. Vividly dreaming of you, he reached out, his heart aflutter. He swore he’d find the lady of white, and free her of curse. He’d leave behind his home to find his beloved, and that he would do. Asleep for many years, the princess wished for the day she would be free. Locked within a tower of thorns and briars, his life he’s risk to save her. The child destined to destroy the world awaits her savior, a truth hidden for a hundred years. Through these thorns he pushed to reach his love. To a eternal love he’d vow, leaving a lingering kiss upon her warm lips. Shedding tears she awoke her tears would be wiped away by her red headed knight. Holding her gently within her arms, keeping her close.

“I’ve been waiting for you love..”

“Please…”

“End my sorrowful life.. and stop this curse..”

The echoing of destiny rung in these walls and filled the air. A cruel color would vividly sound, the cursed lady awakened from her dream. Revealing her true self to him, she begged for her death, to stop the prelude to destruction.

“Hurry..”

Alone sat the human doll, unsure of who he really was. Many questions plagued him, intrusively pervading into his dreams. Would he ever amount to anything, did he ever make anyone happy?

What a useless doll he was, never good enough. His presence was disgusting, how could you ever stand being his friend? He could never do anything right, be was a mistake.

He always wished he could be like you, the person you thought he was. But if it all came true, would that person be the real him? To him it seemed that by living he hurt everyone he loved. All he ever did was ruin and taint everything with his imperfection. Nobody truly wanted him nor needed him, he was just a waste of space. His very existence took up the air that more useful, better could breathe. If only he could live in the world he dreamt of each night. Him leaving would help them another day, they’ll laugh and smile in peace. Nobody would live in fear, there would be nor more anger and hatred, but things like that would never happen for him.

He wished he had died instead, perhaps his sibling would have been a better person than he could ever be. He always messed up whatever was asked of him. He glanced around looking for a small box inside the bathroom cabinet.

Day after day he found his way, never knowing where he’d end up. Like a daydream, within his own dazed world he had seen. Like this he’d fade without a trace, it was for the best that he’d do. Nobody would hear his screams, no one would ever care. Just by living he was nothing for another day, so many lives but none of them ever knowing him. Why would he ever want to live in the world he had dreamed?

He grasped the pill bottle, he felt so sick. Proceeding to take them, his entire body felt numb and his mind empty. Floating within the desolate mind-scape, the tips of his fingers icy and cold.

Just by leaving, he would be no one for another day. All of those lives, yet he would never be able to change anything. Nobody to hear his screams, no more being mean to him. If he could, would he ever have it all back in one piece?

He turned on the bathtub faucet, letting it run as he watched. Before hot baths had always made him feel better, but even this now felt strenuous. This life was cruel, eating away at his energy. He was just a burden to everyone, useless, useless, USELESS.

Falling onto the ground, again and again, yet never getting up. The person he came to be, would it ever be the real him? The person they made him to be, was that truly him? Breaking and breaking all over again, never to be picked up and fixed. Leaving it all behind, over and over never to wake up.

Lifting himself into the tub, his wet clothes clung to his skin. Laying back deeper in the water, his mind was flooded with melancholic haze. Would it be better if he just died? Would you be happier if he was gone?

Just by living he brought a smile to your face, just by living he brought you another day. Why, just for him, would you smile after everything. He wanted to give it all up, deep remorse flooded his bones. He really wished he hadn’t, all those moments he tried just to die.

Everything hurt, he felt so, so empty. There was no one here to save him, to help him, to console him. He was nothing, nothing compared to you and his friends. He couldn’t he just die already?

Just by leaving, he would be no one for another day. All of those lives, nothing he did would ever bring change. Somebody here to scream, someone here to stop ME.

Water filled his broken lungs, his attempt to drown himself. He was completely disoriented, his heart racing as he stopped himself from resurfacing. He wouldn’t want to face you after if you had heard what he did. Drowning, it was more peaceful than he had ever thought it’d be. Perhaps you will forgive one day, but this was for the best. As he was, he understood it was better if he died and soon. He wished he could be like you, and be the person you saw him as, but he never would be..

His breath was panicked and shallow, beads of sweat stuck to his forehead as his hands trembled against his own blade. It was an honorable end, so why did he waver? He could feel tears swelling at the corners of his eyes, as a choked cry left his throat. This was it, he wasn’t even sure what would be awaiting him after it was all over. As the tip of the blade barely pierced his skin, the urge to sob and scream and defy this ‘honorable’ end filled his entire body. Why wouldn’t his hands obey his will? they quivered and shook as he gripped the hilt of his blade tighter. His body tensed, he blinked the tears that had collected away, and shut his eyes. With a swift and sudden movement the sharped katana impaled though his stomach. The sound of a scream filled his mind, the sound of his own voice wailing in pain. Blood spilled from the wound, as he twisted the blade and pulled it out. The sands and his own hands stained with sanguine liquid. The pain was unbearable, it felt like an eternity had flashed before his eyes as claret seeped into sea and the clothes which he wore.

“My only regret was that I could never atone, for what I had done.”

“Because of my mistakes, you are no longer here by my side.”

“I must spill my woes into the sea.”

“A-“ his voice sputtered and broke “And..”

A sorrowful smile crossed his face, before his body collapsed into the sand, to be taken away by the waves. With his final breath he would whisper.

“Wouldn’t it be beautiful to be a piece of art forever?”

His fingers danced across the fabric of his art. This was perfection, something beautiful which was meant to last. He swayed to a rhythmic tap of his foot, as he threaded each careful stitch into his masterpiece. Meticulously, he worked, stitch by stitch, as a thought seemingly his crossed his mind. The perfection which he craved would never be complete if it cannot be forever. Would it ever be enough, would he ever satisfied with only the temporary splendor his art brought.

“I must create something new”

To create a luxury exquisite, a lasting beauty would be his only goal. He clutched the scissors in his hand as he cut away, the sharper they were the better they would snip. The prideful artist toiled, as he reveled in a realization for it would take more than his hands alone. For his art to become perfect it desired the sacrifice of his entire being. In a tidy pursuit of the heavens which he sought, he prepared his stage for his magnum opus, the magnificent final piece that would exceed all others. The price of this art would be him, and that he understood well. As he stepped onto his stage and gripped the rope in his hands firmly, he knew this symphony would soon end with him. These obsessive thoughts of perfection which had brought entropy to his mind, haunted him for long enough. He would be free, and in that create the most grandiose piece to be witnessed. He nestled his head into the noose, and made sure the rope around his arms were well knoted. With this his hand raised and with a snap his body was lifted and hung. A suffocating feeling it was, despite knowing it’d be painful he still struggled. Knowing what was to come he spoke his last.

“What do you think? Aren’t I beautiful?”

With that statement the guillotine blade sliced cleanly through his neck. Everything stilled and fell silent, for a moment it was almost peaceful. His head lolled onto the floor below, scarlet ichor spilling like divine ambrosia onto the stage which he hung above. His body was hung up like marionette on a cross brace, wrists lifted in a position of that of a puppeteer holding his unrivaled piece. His entire being was the ultimate price to pay for beauty.

This stage and his art would be dyed a crimson red.

Far away there once lived a gourmet, without a care he ate everything he could reach. It had started as normal, but as he went on he started to crave the worlds most gruesome foods. Flavors from around the world he’d consume, he’d eat it all. Stuffing his face full, he needed more, poisons and delicacies galore. Greedily he ate, arms and legs, he wouldn’t be picky. Hearts and lungs, he swallowed them without care. Prepared and served anyway he’d try it all at least once, the more he ate the more he would desire. His servants, his chefs, there would be nothing left of them when he was done. These Indescribable dishes he coveted, the more gruesome the tastier they would be. His appetite grew, and to him this felt right, craving more would be his demise. Nothing was to be put to waste, be it hair or silverware. Days went by, there’s nothing left to consume, already was everything apart of him. What he sought was a meal so unique, after all the more gruesome the tastier they would be.

Today he sat wondering what was left to eat. What else could this life possibly bring? A smile on his face, he had an thought. He would become his own buffet.

Now it is time, to devour it all. With nothing left, he would become his own prey. This final meal was his alone, one he would not put to waste. Biting and chewing away, he took apart his own body without haste. Blood and organs spilling from his remains, he would consume his entire self. He engorged himself on this world’s finest delicacies. This final meal would be savored and relished, without abhor he ate. Devouring it all, his meal would soon come to an end. Crimson stained the room, the deep sanguine blighted his vision. His last crazed delusion, breaking apart and becoming empty. Nothing would be left of him, nor of anything within this house. With a frenzied laugh, he’d close his eyes in delight. Gluttony his sin, he lived to it without doubt. His manic conclusion to the madness, the saying grace of the finishing of his gruesome spread. With a smile he spoke, without revulsion.

“No one would ever know…”