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misery. anguish. despair.
kirio knew all that, by heart. throughout the course of his entire life so far, he'd been a witness to a tad lot of these so-called 'unfortunate events' which drove almost more than half of the netherworld-ian demonic race into madness.
kirio knew all that, by heart. throughout the course of his entire life so far, he'd been a witness to a tad lot of these so-called 'unfortunate events' which drove almost more than half of the netherworld-ian demonic race into madness.
but he didn't mind... at all. well like HELL he'd ever give a damn about putting such amusing little occurences to a pause; much less to a halt, but oh fuck. he knew exactly what must be done in order to lure his prey right into the trap he seemed to set up so effortlessly.
beginning with how his victim initially resorts to try talking things down with him (did they really think a weak attack like that could go as far as faze him? whoever told them that, ah, kirio decided to teach them a long ass lesson later);
to how he just *had* to mercilessly crush the remaining tiny spark of hope left in his victim's system (what he does exactly, varies to certain degrees, depending on the circumstances at hand. the list regarding such is thus, unfortunately, too long to mention in this thread.);
down to how his victim's face slowly, awfully, beautifully crumples into an expression conveying an extremely drastic sense of hopelessness, that tearing his gaze away from the attractive sight before him became an immediate chore he absolutely had no intention of catering to.
oh how lovely did the once innocently chaste faces of 'fake' demons transform into one of utter woe, with a mere flick and snap of his finger; the face, 'true' demons should have been making all this time. only *he* possesses the proper ability to change people...
to help them return to who they originally were. to push them back down into succumbing to the deepest, darkest depths of their naturally evil hearts.
he is, by no doubt, grateful. truly grateful for being entrusted with a responsibility so great, he might even tear up.
he is, by no doubt, grateful. truly grateful for being entrusted with a responsibility so great, he might even tear up.
so why? why was he feeling an irritating yet undeniably familiar throb coming from the middle of his chest every single time he imposes despair upon demon after demon? why was he feeling a small, constant tug somewhere within his pitch black identity, hearing as well a voice
so faint and broken, he almost, *almost* caught his ideals faltering for the first time. why then... what even is this unnamed suffocation that surprisingly does not trigger his serotonin levels to shot up like they usually do...
why isn't he happy to see himself suffering from this kind of... of confusion...?
it was almost, *almost* like seeing the young version of his own innocence manifested right before his very eyes. the young amy kirio who merely stood there, frozen in place, a river-like stream
it was almost, *almost* like seeing the young version of his own innocence manifested right before his very eyes. the young amy kirio who merely stood there, frozen in place, a river-like stream
of tears spilling out from his large turquoise orbs, mumbling incoherent phrases of what appeared to be calls- or rather, *cries* and pleas for...
help.
help.
the young amy kirio then slowly extended one arm towards him- the real amy kirio we know of today- but just as the kirio we know of today is about to get ahold of the young kirio's fingertips, large iron bars appeared from who-the-fuck-knows-where,
instantly separating the two, lomg before they could even make any sort of physical contact. the pull of gravity likewise seemed to change right after, for the kirio we know of today is falling fast. falling fast into the abyss of despair that thousands, no maybe even millions of
souls who perished at his own hands, now helplessly wander in. to think he is actually becoming one with them right now, how foolish.
and then, just like that, it struck him.
and then, just like that, it struck him.
of course he'd eventually receive a taste of his own medicine. of course he'd eventually fall right back into his own grave. of course he'd eventually recall the series of 'unfortunate events' that once haunted him so much, it was all too late when he realized just how deep of
a wound he had already managed to carve upon his very, very sinful soul.
he remembered. he finally remembered.
the reason why he was so fixated on forcing people to feel and have their fair share of life-long misery. anguish. despair.
he remembered. he finally remembered.
the reason why he was so fixated on forcing people to feel and have their fair share of life-long misery. anguish. despair.
because he was alone.
unwanted.
unloved.
unwanted.
unloved.
the exact same reason why the severeness of his sorrow immediately swallowed him whole the very moment his supposed 'best friend' turned her back against him so quickly. his sorrow, which soon lead to a paramount of envy; wrath, and finally, to despair, overwhelmed his entire
existence just as swiftly, he no longer had even the rational capacity to resist such a dangerous urge, as he limply sat there, eyes wide, his nose smeared with a little blood, and a long string of saliva dripping down from the sides of his mouth.
"despair." was all the young amy kirio ever thought of, from that day forth.
and his present self we know of today, is no exception.
and his present self we know of today, is no exception.
"help me!" the manifestation of the present day kirio's earlier innocence cried out loudly; a desperate plea the kirio of today no longer recognized as he had successfully returned, once more, to the blackness of his evil origins.
"help... me..." the child sobbed, one last time, before dissipating into a hapless pile of nothingness.
