A/N: I'm not thoroughly satisfied on how this turned out. I'm bad at describing things all the more fighting scenes. Nevertheless the idea of writing this kind of story fascinated me so…I must continue on. Forgive me for any grammatical errors and such.

Warning: Before I forget, this story contains a character's death. So if you don't want to read anyone dying you are free to leave. Other than that, I suppose a bit of gore appears here and there…

Sorry, though, if you can't understand it. I don't either.

And yes, it's sort of long. Probably from the many enters.

Disclaimer : Every character here belongs to Hoshino Katsura. (Except the little girl)

Sadist.

That's what he called me.

My prey's just standing right there… ready to attack.

Just by looking at him I could feel my body tingle with excitement. His soul and body... I want to shatter it apart. Cutting his body from limb to limb, hearing his deafening screams, feeling each nerve and muscle rip apart from the force. Fracturing each bone of his to hear each crack it makes, becoming unusable. Shredding the skin of his body to look no more like loose hanging ribbons, seeing beneath the cover, his bleeding body: isn't it a magnificent sight to see?

His eyes bulging from the pain, with tears of blood freely flowing from out of it; making him scream over and over… wouldn't you like to hear that? If possible, make him beg for mercy as I amputate each and every finger or limb that makes him whole, taking pleasure in every moment. Crushing his feeble skull with the arch of my shoe… letting him feel pain in each second that he lets his heart pump and lungs to breathe… for the only way to escape this physical pain is for his to body to succumb into the welcoming arms of death.

I just want to feel his heart slowly ebbing away. It's beating fading… fading… until the person in front of me is nothing more than a frozen corpse.

To tell you the truth, this wasn't the same feeling I had with that Walker boy. Which is why, today, I don't plan on leaving something unfinished.

Without warning, he charged on towards me, clutching his large weapon behind him, his face seething with hate.

Then something clicked at the back of my head, reminding me. He was also that cursed boy's companion. No wonder he looked so familiar…. That eye patch, so was the color of his hair. You don't see that too often. If my guess is right, this is the bookman's next successor?

A stifled laugh seemed to found its way up my throat.

Isn't this amusing? All the more reason I want to make him drown in pain.

Rushing on towards him, I couldn't help but wonder what his blood tastes like…there's this craving even I don't understand. My throat burns so much in need… that the only thing that can soothe it…is no other than blood, even wine does no justice.

Now then…what could it be? Would it be just spicy and dull like the Rosso Conero in Italy? Or could it be the rich and ripe Terras do Sado from my own native land? As these thoughts go by I could feel my tongue licking my lips in its own way, as though expecting a fine delicacy, which was right.

That Allen Walker's misery, I want to be there to witness it when he sees what I had done to his Tomodachi.

---

I took my own sweet time, just moving along my own pace, looking at the ragged person in front of me.

His leather-made coat now torn in the sides, burns on his skin caused by himself. Bruises were already showing in his pale face and arms, blood was freely oozing out of the cuts I made on our first clash. His hand was clutching hard at the near-hem of his weapon, feet already in a fighting stance. His eyebrows furrowed a bit in annoyance, sweat was running freely down to his chin. But even all that, he had the guts to smirk.

I had to admire this one's stupidity---but then …not. As I recall, others exorcists were foolish just like him, thinking that they were really that capable of defeating a Noah of my caliber. Can you not see the obvious gap?

I brush the dust off my hat in our moment of silence. Him waiting anxiously for my second dive. Let me ponder on for a while… after that, I'll arrange you a proper grave.

It's pathetic how these exorcists really think that they could defeat us. That they will "eliminate evil completely from this world", a child's wish. Funny also, that the one they want to target was "my" knit-loving uncle.

It was all amusing.

Their hope.

Their faith.

Their struggle.

Their sacrifices.

All the more, their will to win.

He knew this was the end for him, I'm sure. But somehow he believes for something to come. Was it a comrade? Or was it chance?

Tell me, young lad, where is your god now?

My lips quirk upward---

My fingers twitch unconsciously---

It's almost time to play

It's time to be afraid…

The fool charged first with his weapon towards me, smashing the ground where I was earlier. Regaining from his actions, he again charged on me with the same tactics. And I just stood there… waiting…, waiting for the right moment… just to rip his heart out.

But of course, if I did that right away, wouldn't it ruin all the fun?

I small laugh escaped my lips as he missed again, grunting. Only to be punched onto the glass window behind him, breaking it. Blood was trickling down his lips from the impact, reflecting on the shattered window. Forcibly, as he must, using the end of his innocence as support he stood up and still gave me that smug smile of his.

Perhaps, a bit of leniency would be appropriate today.

"Your innocence is all I want." I crooned, chuckling a bit at my own antics; I was a bit disappointed as I saw a gleam of determination in his eyes. Even then I continued walking towards him, my right hand in a welcoming manner. "Won't you give it up to save your own life?"

He answered back by spitting on my newly bought expensive shoes in Portugal, which made me rather peeved. I raised my eyebrows at him for explanation as I looked at my newly soiled shoes. He didn't reply, but instead I heard him muttering something along the lines of 'Hi Ban', then he raised his hammer up then slammed it down the ground. As it happened, my hat tipped side wards a bit from the intensity of the snake emerging from the seal.

It looked at me as I was some kind of mouse; a small one at that. Its fiery flames rising as I made a bit of a comment. Hissing as I took a step closer to its master.

My lips seem to move at their own accord as I felt myself smiling. He looked at me like I was some kind of a madman… which I won't deny.

Nearer and nearer I get to him…without hesitating, he sent his summoned reptile charging through me. Opening its mouth expecting to swallow me with it, though unfortunately, it was mistaken. The blast just went through me… and I just stood there unscathed. He knew this wouldn't hurt me, then why? Surely it wasn't used to burn my clothes. Then I realized as I looked in front of me…

Funny boy, he tried to escape.

I waited till the fire went down, the dust and debris as they faded… and as expected, he was nowhere to be found. All in front of me was a full shattered glass, and traces of blood on the cobblestone floor, which proved to be very efficient.

This made me relate to one of those stories in Rhode's fairytale books. In where two children tried not to get lost by leaving the bread crumbs out in the open, unfortunately though for them, various animals ate their trails. In which I was perhaps the animal… and he, the boy who made the path. And instead of bread crumbs, though, he left a trail of blood.

Doesn't make sense? Well it's completely understandable, since I am, after all, not a sensible man.

To simply put, it's a chase between the cat and the mouse; or in this case, the wolf and the rabbit.

Crouching down, I picked the sharpest glass shard I could find, still freshly soaked from some of his blood, licking it with my own tongue.

Standing up on my newly soiled shoes, and then brushing my dust-covered coat, I could feel my smile getting wider.

Now then, shall we?

---

What is this?

I don't understand it at all.

It hurts.

Is it even real?

[THUMP

[THUMP

I clutch tightly onto the cloth atop of my chest; my hand feeling a lopsided thumping beneath it.

My heart keeps on pounding, hard.

So much that I feel like it's going to tear my chest apart in a desperate attempt to flee.

Flee?

From what? I Ask.

From that devil.

My inner subconscious mind replies balefully. Mocking me.

This wall… this wall behind, concealing me from his view, it won't last long, I knew. He would find me in his own fucking way.

Cold sweat was running mostly along my back and face; my clothes clung to my soaked body.

Somehow I knew. Something at the back of my head kept on nudging me earlier. I knew what was going to happen by choosing to take him head on. There were only two endings. He dies, or I die.

Never was there a third.

I was never one to be driven by emotions. I already discarded them before I even knew they existed. It was as just the old man said to me: A bookman has no need for a heart.

But somehow…just somehow… I don't know when or how. I became attached not knowing when. I began to care not knowing how. It just happened so suddenly that it caught me by surprise.

When I saw him earlier… something stirred inside of me. A burning feeling; something hot kept on spurring, it just kept on weighing heavier and heavier in my heart. I couldn't stop it. I didn't have the strength. I didn't have the will. I was foolish to let it take over.

I had to kill him, even it costs my life… that was my first thought. I was confident; confident enough to think that I alone could beat him at his own game.

You're one smart guy Lavi; one smart guy.

The old man would be proud.

…

Slapping your face shitless, that is.

Escape was already a futile attempt from the start. The only choice left is to continue on and hope for the best.

I hear his footsteps getting closer. My hands gripped more tightly on Odzuchi Kodzuchi³ waiting for the impact, my heart doubling its beating. But for some reason his slow footsteps came to a sudden halt. Only to continue again after a moment.

This was it, I guess.

I felt the breeze softly brushing against my cheek as if to comfort… or maybe to give its final condolences while I was still alive.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

Jiji.

Allen.

Lenalee.

Yuu.

And everyone.

Forgive me.

I am a fool.

---

Wait a second and you'll settle down

I'm just waiting, 'til you really let your guard down.

Aaa—…re?

What is this I hear?

-thud- -thud-

Was he this scared already?

His fear… I could feel it all around. The air hung thickly among the rubbles of stone. Among which… I saw a piece of clothing peeking behind a half crumbling, broken down pole. Swaying a bit as the wind picked up, as if letting it say hello.

I let a small laugh escape my lips.

Exorcists are terrible hiders.

Aahh…

Brushing my hand through my hair, I just sighed. Disappointed and amused. A child's play this is. And I was thinking that maybe this one would give me a little more challenge, or be a little more entertaining to occupy my time.

Moving along… I walked slowly, as if to relish the feeling of fear he was going to show as he heard me coming towards him… but I abruptly came to a halt. Frowning, my eyebrows rose in an irritated or curious manner, perhaps… my perceptions were a bit off. Neither there was fear… or excitement. It was just… bland. And perhaps non-existent.

"This royal pain…" I muttered under my breath at the sight before me. Lying on the ground was not the boy earlier, nor any human, just a little girl's old, ragged doll. Kneeling, I cupped it gently from behind, examining it for a moment. Grey it was from the dust scattered along the expanse. It's stuffing coming from inside out. One of its arms amputated. And blood was splattered along the head and body, brown from overdue. If I would take a guess, I'd say the owner was crushed thoroughly beneath by some segments from a building… caused by the mild destruction we caused earlier. Yes. It was only mild.

Poor child.

The wind rose again as one strand of the doll's hair fell off, carrying it with its flight. I just stood there, watching, waiting to see what may come of it. Reaching some point in the sky, my eyes following through, it was just then I noticed that the sun was setting, and an orange paint had already filled the sky. When had we started this clash? I'm pretty sure that the sun was still high up there in the clouds. Sighing offhandedly, I continued to trace the path where the strand of hair kept hovering by. The breeze was coming to a halt… then so was the altitude of it.

And as if the doll heard my silent condolence to its master, its strand of hair landed somewhere near the fewer pile of rubbles, next to a wall, which emitting in front of it was a silhouette: a quivering shadow; with the form of a hammer beside it.

I smirk.

Chuckling a bit at my own providence, I mouthed a small thank you to it, then placing the doll down quietly, making it lean back to one of the rocks that scattered.

Standing, I gripped a bit tightly around the glass shard and placed it soundlessly inside my pocket.

If I'm quiet, I'll slide up behind you

And if you hear me I'll enjoy trying to find you

---

I could think of a thousand weapons that can strike me from behind.

Thousands of other things that could do just the same.

I know them each by origin and history, and am well aware of their use and weaknesses.

The perks from being the next bookman successor.

A pen, a nail, a rod or even a rose.

Things that you will expect from a crafty man.

But a hand? …

What was I to say at this point of time?

I couldn't speak nor breathe.

Something just passed through my chest without warning.

Yet there was no pain. No blood.

Just…, a hand that made its way through.

Should I run or should I grab?

Logic is an obsolete choice. It was long gone from the first contact.

I could feel my eye getting wider from each slight movement it makes. It seemed so terrifying and intriguing at the same time. I didn't know how it came to be there, why it was there, why it won't just finish me quickly, why didn't it just grab my heart out.

It was hard to be calm.

I couldn't see my opponent. I don't know what he's thinking. Neither am I aware of what he was now capable of. Striking from behind at the precise time when his opponent is clearly vulnerable. Abrupt and cunning, the base of his nature; a mixture of both leaves the second party immobile and terrified.

Perhaps the most obvious reason that is preventing me to move was the shock that overcame me. But that doesn't seem to be the case. For some reason, maybe, just maybe, at the corner of my mind I was thinking that if I stay still, he'll be merciful enough to end it with but a slight moment of pain.

The coward in me.

"Fear, Lavi," explained the old man phlegmatically², "shows the worst side of humans."

He pointed to himself and me. "Even us."

I just looked at him. The shadow of the fire before us danced on his aged feature, giving more of a wrinkled aspect.

"How so?" I queried indifferently.

"My only advice to you is this: keep a level head Lavi. No matter what the circumstance, there's still a chance of hope."

I didn't know what he had done and seen in his past to suggest that, but I knew it was pointless in asking.

Nothing more followed.

I have to admit, it did bother me a bit. But I just brushed off that thought, thinking that it was impossible, as I was merely an observer. Taught not to get attached to anything, keep a cool head at all times. Taught specifically just to be a tool of trade, therefore know not the feeling of emotions. I was not to be mingled with humans, for I was trained to be far more superior.

But ever since I met them, the boundaries set before me kept breaking. Every single thing that made me who I was just kept on crumbling down. I opened the wall; I opened my heart (although not whole). It was there you see, the real me. They caught a few glimpse each day. Just this, I told myself, just this one, I won't break it. I won't lose myself, no matter what.

Today, I broke that self proclaimed rule. I let it overtake me. Capturing the only judgment I have left in this fight. Yet, I feel as if a wave of relief washed over me. For now I realize, no matter who I am, may it be Lavi or the other forty-eight aliases, the successor of bookman, an exorcist, or only someone who wants to protect his friends, I' am still, and always be, after all, a mere human.

And he was wrong about chances. This fight, with him.

There is no probability of escape.

--Soundless…

A bit of disbelief passed through me as I find myself suddenly silently laughing for my sanity, at least now I can sympathize when people say they saw their whole life pass before their very eyes. Only a few seconds went by yet I've already thought everything through.

I must be mad.

My light amusement was abruptly stopped as I felt his arm ever so slowly retreating back, pulling me out of my slight reverie.

---

"Tell me, boy, how did that…feel?" I taunted, looking at my clean glove-covered hand.

It was fascinating. Every crack his bone made when I twisted it in a 360 degree and the popping sound the socket of his shoulder released when I pulled his arm roughly, 'accidentally' dislocating the limb from the shoulder.

I'm terribly sorry.

The person 3-feet away from me didn't reply. Clutching tightly on his now useless left arm, he was just looking at me wide-eyed.

It was rather disappointing on my part earlier when I didn't hear him scream in agony when I dislodged his joint, but when I saw the look in his eyes, it was enough: tear-stricken, red, and almost coming out in full circle from the pain, screaming for him.

Just keep the violence down

Not yet - don't make a sound

Scanning the ground before me, my smile grew wider when I saw his innocence that shrunk in size a few feet away from me on a pile of wreckage, long forgotten caused from the shock its owner felt.

The boy widened his eye in protest as he saw me making my way towards it. I find his pathetic state amusing: clutching his broken arm, his chest heaving high, his stepping stance uneven. He didn't even dare to move. He just followed my every movement… staring…., as I slowly trudged down the cluttered path of stones, releasing a silent breathe of screams every once in a while. I cup my right ear from behind in a mocking manner. Reaching my destination, I carefully placed my steps on the ground, making sure he sees the whole play of how his innocence was eradicated from this world.

I take out a stick of cigarette from my front pocket, and the back, a lighter.

-click-

-click-

I breathe in, the air of the coal scented smoke engulfing me…going through my veins, blood, obviously the lungs and heart. There was a bit of constriction there, as though in the inside I was being held captive…but nevertheless it doesn't matter. My body gave off a slight tremor from satisfaction. It's been hours.

I breathe out, my mouth emitting a haze of grey from god knows where. Waiting…waiting…as it slowly fades away---I may look like some retarded fool…being intrigued by the gray hue that was little by little rising up to the heavens, dissipating.

But I knew I was far worse than that.

The boy in front twisted his face in disgust.

I let the cigarette drop down to the ground, smothering the bit of flame in it with my shoe. Raising my knee slightly, I gave him my most friendly smile.

He seemed to have understood this as he forced himself to move, ran towards me, grunting painfully, began to shout at the top of his lungs, "YAMERO!!!"

I brought my foot—

Grimacing in pain, he deliberately let his broken arm drop, as he extends his right arm towards me.

–"DON'T--"–

—down to his hammer, crushing the innocence along it, with minimum effort. The sound played itself, like a small child dropping a glass cup.

Shatter.

It was a simple act, wasn't it?

The light in his eye abruptly died…,

Free falling tears were tricking down at both sides of his cheek.

He seems not to have noticed this as he continued to stare blankly at his demised weapon. Green sparks of dust scattered below me, then carried away by the wind.

---

A part of me has died.

"You…ba…s…tar…d…"

He's going to pay.

This son of a bitch.

I flail my limp arm behind me, ignoring the searing pain that shot through. I ran on towards him, tasting the salty tears that made their way to my mouth.

I knew it was a fruitless wish. But a punch…a punch on the face would suffice.

Something deep within.

I've never felt so empty. All the years I've been through… the hardships, the experiences… everything just went down the drain. Seems like my ticket for this ride has finally come to a stop. Even if I return, I wouldn't be known as a bookman, I wouldn't be known as an exorcist, I wouldn't even be Lavi. Everything I had been… they were just thrown away like yesterday's trash. I guess I was just fooling myself day by day that I was ready for this.

Never thought it would hit you this hard, right? This FUCKING hard.

A blow in the face, a punch in the gut, a slice of oblivion. A whole nightmare that came true.

Losing my innocence… it's losing a precious companion, a dear friend, even perhaps…just what made me, me.

…

What am I saying? It is me.

I can't describe the pain, the loss, the agony.

This is just pathetic.

I'm akin to a kicked puppy.

It was my first friend. The first one I ever considered as a comrade.

Call me a blatant fool if you wish but let me tell you, before I had a different name, before I tasted death at first hand, before I killed an akuma before my very hands, before bookman agreed to take me in…before they came, it called me. Kept me company during my childhood days when the other children wouldn't pay any heed to me. It gave me my destiny, my ultimate resolve, my path, my life. I owe just about everything to it.

But that everything just came to a sudden halt. With one crash of his foot, it was gone. No second chance to see it before it vanished. No time to say goodbye. No time to say 'thanks for everything'. Gone like the wind; disappeared as fast death takes anyone.

Nothing more is in stored… there's nothing left. Lenalee and the others would still consider me as their friend and comrade, I'm sure.

Only because she's too kind hearted for this.

But in the end, without anything, I'm only labeled as a normal human. Even if they take me in, who wants a dog that keeps holding everyone down?

Who wants someone useless?

Who wants someone that was deemed to fail in the eyes of god?

A bookman has no need for a heart.

It keeps ringing in my ears. Yet, the words don't affect me like they used to anymore.

I mean… I'm not qualified as a bookman anymore, right?

So you could assume…

That this is my attempt of suicide?

Die with honor than with shame…as they say.

…

…

…

Yet my heart keeps calling out…

'I still want to live' it says, in a desperate attempt.

Maybe for the sole reason…

To just see them one more time.

Even though it knows it's impossible.

Perhaps…, this is what they call regret?

I can't help but to let the tears fall.

His head turns slightly just in time to avoid the full blow.

I missed.

He grabs my left wrist tightly. I grunt painfully.

He chuckles, then punches me at the cheek, blood splatters out. Then he raises me up roughly to see him eye to eye.

I hear my broken arm cracking more. I feel my tendons stretch beyond their limits, slowly being torn.

"Ngghhh…"

It was as if I was being electrocuted at the same place over and over.

From my eye, a drop of water falls to the ground.

He finds my tears worth smiling.

"What's the matter, boy?"

He again gives me that smirk.

Even if I'm not really aware of it…

"JUST KILL ME ALREADY YOU FUCK!!" I shout hoarsely, drops of blood from my mouth splattering on his face. My throat tasted like rusted metal, every time I breathe through my mouth, blood just seems to follow up from below. My limbs are sore…my mind was…not my own anymore. He removes the blood by using his finger, yet licking it off to my horror.

How long must I live?

How long must I put up with this?

Never had I wished for death to come so close.

"…just…do it already."

His eyebrow rises in a questioning manner.

"Do what?" He asks innocently, smiling, gripping more tightly on my wrist.

Bastard.

I never meant to reply, but the words just seemed to flow out subconsciously, I hoist his collar up forcibly as I could, my voice coming out as an audible whisper. "Kill…me…damn it…"

He slaps my hand away, and chuckles. A wave of laughter suddenly came over him for a few seconds then he looked at me with slight tears in his eyes.

"Slaughter…you, this fast? Why, you must be mistaken. Only a fool would give you such quick death." He explains offhandedly, as if telling the laws of the universe to a mere child.

This deranged psycho.

"You see exorcist, we Noahs don't take pleasure in anything that dies too easily. Take Rhode for example, she couldn't stop telling me what fun she had with that white-haired friend of yours when she stabbed his eye, and told me the next time she met him, she would definitely, definitely, make him feel something much worse." He grins.

"It runs in the family I suppose, as we all love the sight of blood. Or maybe that's just me… Which is why, how dense are you to think that I would let you off easily; toys that last longer are more fun to play with you know. You're weak and that's a fact. But to make you feel a little better, I'll tell you what, you're a bit different than the other exorcists that I encountered, and that difference makes you more entertaining in my sight."

"What difference?" I said haggardly under my breath, not really wanting to know.

"Isn't it obvious? You don't give up boy, and that's what I like about you. You're injured, weak and pathetic, and still you come right at me … it makes me want to break you even more."

"…What have I done to you…?" Stupid as it may seem, it was the only phrase I could utter in this moment.

"Done…to me? That's the most absurd question I had ever heard. It's in the course of nature. You, being next bookman, supposedly should already know these things. But since you asked…" In one course of movement, he twists my already broken arm into another degree, not letting it regain its original position, "This is my answer: You're gravely mistaken; I do not do this for vengeance or duty. I simply do this for entertainment. It's fun you see, seeing you all battered up like that. And do you know what I see at the end of this show?"

"…"

"No answer? Let me tell you then…"

"I see you…you're body on the ground…writhing in pain…" The side of his mouth twitches a bit as he turned his head sideways, using the palm of his other hand to cover his face. He gives a sinister laugh in a tone which was not his. Something deep… horrendous… that it made shivers run up and down my spine. His shoulders convulse a bit as he tried to suppress a giggle. "…blood… bathe in blood…suds and foams coming out of your mouth…saliva freely trickling down…ku…ku…ku…you try to scream…but the only thing that you could muster was a feeble whimper… your throat slowly being clogged up…getting hard to breathe in there…blood…slowly filling up your lungs…forcing you to cough out blood in your already clogged throat…"

I listened in confusion, disgust and horror. My heart drops. Words…these were only words…yet why do I feel like as if it's happening right now? The air felt thicker…warmer even…making me smell the copper-like metal scent of blood rising up to my nose. 'Stop…it…' were the only two words I could muster, yet he ignores them and continues with his grotesque tale, and I, trying to bare with the imagery he was trying to explain… something was coming out…

"…I see myself smiling…enjoying every single moment…stabbing you…over and over…the arms…legs…stomach…even in the heart…blood spurts out from the wounds like lava…splattering onto my face… you never seem to run out of them…which makes it more entertaining…you try to scream from the pain I've caused you…but like I've said…it only comes out in a whimper… you pathetically try to grab the tool from my hand…but it only resulted me detaching the limb from your wrist…the amputated hand falls on the ground…cold and gray… for a long while…I laugh in the midst of it…and it was only then I noticed your eye patch…my smile only widens even more…I grab my knife from the decapitated hand's tightly closed knuckles, cutting it in half in the process and I---"

He stops and looks at me suddenly. I felt my heart stop. This was not the man that I fought earlier. His eyes were almost white… his smile…almost like the devil himself … and his free hand was convulsing madly, still in place where it was earlier. "---And then I..." He looks at my covered eye sinisterly,"… STAB IT IN THERE AND SCRAPE YOUR PIECE OF EYEBALL OUT OF THE SOCKET---"

As he said it, his free hand went through the said eye and my skull.

…

…

…

…

…

It seems like an eternity on my part.

I kept both of my eyes close while biting my lower lip to prepare for the excruciating pain I was about to experience.

Yet to my surprise, I heard him laughing. I open my eye in confusion; he was smirking; his hand returned to his side.

"Heh," he was fucking laughing, "see what I mean boy? It's fun seeing you get all worked up like that. And your face, it's like you're already in sheer torture. This is exciting, won't you agree?"

What. The. Fuck. This son of a bitch.

Is it that amusing to see me in a pathetic state? Is it that fun to see me cringe that your actions? Is it so satisfying to see my misery? Is it SO FUCKING ENJOYABLE TO CAUSE ME PAIN?

"You fucking sadist."

---

"You fucking sadist."

I frown at that thought. Me, a sadist?

"You insult me, eye patch-kun." I said with a light tone, patting him slightly on the cheek. Yes… I enjoy seeing people all battered up. Crying, begging…for mercy… It is in my nature I suppose, I don't know when or how it began…but as far as I can see, I am no sadist.

"I am far worse."

His eye widens. Wasting no time, I again lunge my hand through his eye patch, this time though, retrieving the covered eye back with my hand.

CrickCrick…

"AAAAAGYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH…."¹

"You're hurting my ears you know."

"IIINGNGGGGGHHHh"

I can feel it with the tip of my fingers…the shape, the sides, the blood, and the nerves…each…slowly tearing apart from their attachments, their vibrations…I feel them all... I can even hear it outside…the light 'tearing'sound as it happens.

He keeps on releasing them… these deafening screams, though it does him no good anyway. He'll just have a sore throat after.

[THUD

I drop him onto the ground as I finish. Bloody and grotesque, that was the appearance of the object I held before me. Nerves were hanging loose at the end; a white, slimy substance mixed with blood was dripping down on the cold floor. The pupil on the eye wide, yet almost white at the same time.

"Hehh…, you really did had an eye there."

I let it fall beside him, bouncing a bit from the impact. He just held onto his empty right eye-socket, blood flowing freely down from the void, his eye patch still intact. Staring wide, he used his other hand to touch it, his face was quivering, actually, it seems like his whole body was. He brought it near to his face, I am not sure if he was crying blood from the pain or loss, either way, he looks more pathetic than ever.

Perfect.

In his own little world, that's how he was acting. It's kind of weird on my part as I kept on watching for a few seconds or so, the boy and his eyeball. Nice little show.

The sky has grown darker, the first star of the night appearing way beyond.

Splashes of blood were covering my suit.

I sigh.

Our family dinner is a bit troublesome in some occasions, such as this. The Earl wouldn't like it if I was late.

Ah…well, better end it.

"Get up." I muttered to the body before me, kicking it lightly in the stomach. It didn't move.

Dead?

I kneel down before him, noticing his closed eye. His chest wasn't heaving. His skin was pale; then again, he was already pale to start with. I sigh again, for the umpteenth time of the day. Dead already, that quick? A… just in time I suppose, he's lucky. I was about to stand up when his hand suddenly shots to my face, missing it barely by inches, I grab him by the wrist.

I smirk.

"You just threw away your last chance of living."

"I was already dead to begin with." He replied haggardly.

"Good point."

He knew what was going to happen, yet right now, he was still smirking.

The defeated kind of smile, you know, with blood trickling down from his lips to the floor.

Heh.

"Your name?" I stood up, smiling, pulling him along with me, letting him regain his position earlier.

"L-like… he-hell I'll tell… y-you..." He retorted back slowly, his head waning a bit.

Slowly…slowly…faintly…dying…

He was already weak and delirious from the large amount of blood loss and maybe from the pain. With his head drooping down, he might as well be considered faint or dead.

"Fair enough."

I take the glass shard hidden for a long while within my pocket. Holding it in a standing position--- "Shall we end this?"

---I stab it in front of his neck. Not sure if he felt it though. But he gave a slight grunt of agony before everything went silent.

Blood splatters.

And he breathes no more.

Something drops.

No mercy, no remorse

Let nature take its course

I drag the lifeless body, or rather, carry it behind my back unto a nearby tree.

I hum a bit of tune… as if doing a usual chore, which is, I suppose a bit true.

I lift him up, making his body lean unto the large trunk, using the tainted glass shard; I stab it unto his wrist, making him hang on one hand to the tree.

I take a few steps back to look at my masterpiece, it looks better than what I did to General Yeegar. Painted too much with red, his veins, utterly visible on his pale arms, most of his clothing tattered. A lot more bruises and cuts were spotting on in every visible part of his skin…and the most eye-catching part is that he was…

---

Headless.

The fire flickers beside the comforting chair where I reside. It's warm light radiating within the dark room, giving it more of a…sort of home-ish appearance.

I hold my wineglass in front of the detached head, making it look somewhat wavy or so…, tipping the glass a bit here and there…the contents swirling a inside akin to the movement, intriguing me. It's heaven in a wineglass, if I may comment, every component is in proportion, and the balance made is impeccable: the product of the Taylor Vintage Port. Such as to be expected for already over 300 years of service.

The door opens.

"You're crude, Tyki." A familiar sugary voice comments, disrupting me from my reverie. My little sister, Rhode, or should I say older sister, looks at the remainder of the boy I fought with days before. She smiles. "But not this brutal."

I chuckle, setting the wine glass gently on top of the mini table beside me.

"Just a spur of the moment, I suppose." I returned her smile. "And perhaps a little remembrance as for the first one to confront me of what I really was."

"Which was?" She was already in front of me. Eyeing me, curiously. She might be older, but what can I say, she's still a child.

I ran a shaky hand through my hair. "A sadist, I suppose."

I try to give a light laugh, but failed.

She turns away to hide her amusement, her tiny hands covering her lips, and then looks she at me directly at the eyes.

"But everyone knows you're worse than that, Tyki."

I just gave a half-hearted smile and ruffle her hair.

"Mou," She pouts, fixing the disheveled hair, "I hate it when you do that."

She turns towards the door. "The Earl would be back soon, don't be late for tonight's dinner, 'kay?"

"I'll make sure of it, Rhode."

The door shuts.

I was about to grab again my neglected wineglass, when an elderly voice now comments, negatively.

"It stinks, Tyki-pon. ♥"

Even with the shadow of the fire, I could still see his flat nose all scrunched up from the foul smell that he thinks existed.

I sniff a bit.

"I don't smell anything."

"Neither do I, Lero!"

"You're a talking umbrella, what do you expect." I replied to object with the squeaking voice, held by the Millenium Earl.

"I'm already siding with you, Lero!" frantically, it shouts. Still squeaky.

"Maa, maa, it doesn't matter." He eyes me rather kindly. Does he understand?

"Tyki-pon, I expect that thing to be thrown out before tomorrow. You already had your fun, and we don't want the house to stink because of a decaying head now, do we? ♥"

"Lero!"

"As you wish, Earl-sama."

"Good. ♥" Now he turns towards the door. "I'll let Lero call you when dinner's ready. ♥"

The door again shuts.

I still hear Lero's squeaking complaining outside.

I take one last look at the head before me, displayed at another small table a few meters away from me. It still looks as fresh at the day I cut it off. Except with the dry blood and all. Its one eye still open. I really don't know why I still keep this…thing. Perhaps it was just something to remind me that…

"Akuma, dispose of this."

With that, a black-metal thing came through the wall. Joker-like. "As you wish, Noah-sama."

The fat man really did make these things handy.

I just kept on watching as he took the head…and disappeared again through the wall.

I wasn't always like this: enjoying another's pain.

But I have no memory of then.

Perhaps if only my heart had not shriveled and died, if mercy had been granted to me. But no, only pain fills me now.

Maybe the reason I kept it is that I was insulted, insulted into being called a Sadist.

It was a remembrance, just to remind me. Yet it insults me all the same, my pride. I would never admit it.

Why? Because.

Just because.

A sadist is a lost soul.

---

Owari.

Tomodachi – friend

Yamero – Stop it

¹Feel free to laugh at the sound effects.

²I always wanted to use that

³I'm not sure if this is right…rawr

Next chapter is the author's notes. Rather, my comments and notes…

So…please read.