digibutter.nerr

[The Chaos Heart]

Blunt title is blunt.

While I'm writing the other fan fic about Timpani and Blumiere (Yes, I'm still writing it. I'm just having writers block because of...events) I thought I might start this as well.


LINK: /Main-Theme


The boy stood over his victim. An old man, around the age of 60. His bloodied corpse lay mangled and slightly dismembered at the feet of the child. He stood, back curved, his white hair dangling in front of his cold, stone eyes. His stare matched that of his victims. Lifeless. Things had gone smoothly. The old man had made not a sound as he died. Of course he hadn't. He had been drugged before the murder had taken place. There were no screams. And, in a few moments, he would clean the room of fingerprints.

"Heh...heh...heh heh...he he he..."

Up until now, the boy had a fierce grip onto the hatchet he held. However, as the wave of laughter swept over him, and let clang loudly to the floor. It didn't matter, no one was around to hear. His cursed, empty eyes were now burning embers of black. He threw his head back and laughed, as a deranged, chaotic flame overtook his peaceful, quite disposition.

"AH HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!! I DID IT! I KILLED THEM! I KILLED THEM ALL WITH MY OWN HANDS! THEY'RE ALL DEAD! DEAD! I WIN! I WIN! I WIN I WIN I WIN!!! AHA HA HA HA HA HA AHA HAH HA AHA!!!!"

The boy's knees gave out, and he crumpled to the blood-soaked rug of the one roomed apartment. He continued to laugh hysterically, rolling in the pool of blood. After minutes of hysterics, he snapped back into reality, and regained his composure. He twisted his fingers around the hatchet once more, and rose to his feet.

"You were a fool, you cretin. You and the rest of this world. You all should die."

The boys face took on the same crazed look as before. He began to angrily hack the body into pieces. With each swing, he cursed to himself, damning some unseen entity, if that was even how he meant he. He didn't care though. He payed no mind to his words, just as he ignored the blood splattering his face. He didn't care what happened at this point. He could die for all he wanted.

Because he was finally happy.

...

Well...hello there. How are you? Of course, it's pointless for you to return the greeting. By the time anyone finds this, I will either be far away from here, or dead. Either way, I could not bare to not confess my knowledge. My heart aches for what has happened. In truth, I was afraid. I was a coward before. And so I remain. At least here, I am safe. Through this writing, perhaps I...no. It matters not what happens to me. Perhaps through this, he will live on. A story, dedicated to the life of a certain individual.

A tale of tragedy, and betrayal.

Of love, an grief.

Of hate...and murder.

The story of a boy, who was despised by all. Never to love. Never to have comfort. Never to find happiness, until the hour was late.

Never to exist.

Never.

A life riddled with pain and suffering, until an eternal flame of Chaos consumed him. He would forever wander through the darkness. Alone for all eternity.

I myself remain a coward, which is why I will explain everything here. Perhaps I will find relief in this action. Who knows? The only thing that matters though, is that you hear this boy's story. If you wish not to read, then please, give this to someone who would. Do not ignore my plea. Do not ignore what needs to be done. This tale.

His tale.

The tale of the child, who knew the truth.

And suffered for it.

[Super Slim]

It sounds a lot like me, except for the murder part.