Creative Master, Stage I
by Indira Neill
----
Creative Master 1
Band/Pairing: Pierrot/Kirito, Jun, and Aiji in various combinations.
Comments: And this is where it all goes downhill for our dear Jun, and Kirito,
and Aiji, hell everyone.
--
I killed him. I didn't want to. But now that it's done I feel no emotion. No pain,
no grief. I'm as dead as he is. But I can't think why I did it or how, or, fuck.
I was so angry. So angry and I, I. He's so cold and still now, like an angel.
But I know him, I know him better then he thought I ever could know anyone.
I know under his tattered and torn wings there was no purity. Because he
is the same as I am. I can't believe I killed. I killed I killed I killed. And why?
What did I get out of this? His blood staining my hands, my hands already
stained with the blood of all those I love. And now his blood has joined them
upon my milky hand.
He's so pale. Lifeless. I never told him how much I cared about him. I never told
him that I loved him. He never knew I couldn't have done anything without him
I never told. And now for the first time I realized my emotions about everything.
I killed coldly and his blood flowed into my veins. We are different. Its the same
blood on all our hands now. We all share the same blood. We are all good and
all evil and now I can't tell which one I want to be. I've killed. I've killed with no
satisfaction. But why? What lead me to this? As sick and twisted and sadistic as
I am, I never thought it would come to this.
Last night, I, I slept with Aiji. I pretended I never saw him and Jun. I brought him
into my room, my own home. I needed to see his blood splatted on my walls. I
want to remember myself that I was in control. I controled the man who controled
my angel. After ripping off his shirt, I saw the bandages, god, Jun was fucking
good. He was still bleeding. Nearly a day later, there was still fresh blood. I
lapped at it. Drank the blood from the cuts my angel and inflicted onto his flesh.
I dug at the little wounds to insure the blood would continue to flow, his face
wracked with pain. Pure pain and no pleasure. He was so unlike Jun. Whimpering,
calling me Kirito. It was Kirito last night. It had been Shinya for so long. But I'm
back in control.
I didn't bother to cut him again. Hell, Jun managed to do so much better then
I could have hoped from him. Maybe I've finally removed his wings. But now,
with someone elses blood staining my hands, I realize how much I need Jun,
and I hope Jun needs me as well.
Aiji came to my apartment willingly. He knew what I was like. He must have
seen Jun's scars. Obviously Jun does the same to him now. He knew what he
was walking into. It was his own fault. I had him on the bed. Screaming in pain
with only the faintest hint of pleausre. I abused him, hurt him, tore him apart.
Stained my sheets with his blood. Forced him to taste it. I needed it as a
release. Now that I think about it, I could never have been so cruel to Jun.
I hardly broke Jun's skin. As much as I wanted it, as much as I needed it
I never forced much more then that upon him. Jun, he saves me and corrupts
me. And now I know Jun never loved Aiji. He never did, he wanted me.
Oh god, let it be me he wanted all along.
His blood is still on my sheets. Nothing matters right now but the slow drip
of blood from my hand to the floor. The vivid dots staining my carpet, they'll
be there forever. After my blood is on someone elses hands, those stains will
remain. After my blood is on my own hands, those stainds will still be there.
Jun's are faded. But this blood, and my blood will last forever. Jun didn't
die for his blood to pour, his has. The blood of angels is all the same though.
Which makes me wonder about him.
I want to go back. But I knew what would happen and I still did it, I still
took that same small pocket knife in my hand. I still ripped it in his flesh,
I still coated my hands with his blood. Blood of an innocent. Blood of an
angel. No one deserved this. None of us needed this. None of us need
each other.
I don't know what to do with his body. It's so cold. It's just laying there, on
my couch. I moved it off the floor. It couldn't remain there, it blongs someplace
better then I can provide. I covered it with those same blood stained sheets.
The knife. I still have it, in my bloody hand. Some of the blood was trasfered
to the sheets when I placed them over his body. But enough remained. And
the knife. I'll never let go of this knife. Everyone will bleed for it. I wish I could
have been rational. But I can't be that happy person. I can't stand the happy
people of this world. He was one of them. We were so similar yet so different
because he was happy. In his own little bizzare way he was happy. I couldn't
stand to see him so happy. I couldn't stand it.
But some people are supposed to be happy, and I took that away from him.
I fucking took that away from someone. Now all these emotions I hadn't felt
for years are coming back to me. Smothering me with feelings of pity, distress,
anger, fear, love. I love Jun. But its too fucking late now. Its too fucking late
to love Jun, to tell him I love him. I can't. He'll never know how much I cared
about him. How much I needed him. He wasn't just my playtoy or my
entertainment. I loved all the little things about him. I loved him.
I'm so sorry. So sorry for what I've done and who I've hurt. I'm so sorry,
and I realize they'll never know how sorry I am. Just like Jun will never
know how much I loved him. No one will know the way I really felt about the
world. No one will know. Damnit I want them to know. I want to be remembered
I want them to miss me when I'm gone.
I want to see the look on Jun's face when I tell him. When I tell him what he's
been waiting for. But he'll never see it. Its all my fault he'll never feel what
he deserves. He fucking deserves more then this. He deserves more then me.
The blood is drying everywhere. Everywhere blood could be spilled it's caking
together and drying. I touch his cheek softly. He deserved more then this. They
all did. But I had to live my tragic little life and bring them along. But then
again, wasn't this Jun's idea? He loved me so much that he took me along,
took me with him and tried to show me something more then my tendences.
And he did, he showed me what I refused to watched. I looked on with painful
distance. I never really did believe I fit into this world. I belonged somewhere
else. Somewhere that wasn't here. And now I realize how I fit into this world.
Now that I've killed I understand.
The caked blood did little to dull the knife. I marvel now at the sight of my
own blood. My own blood as red as any of theirs. As red as Jun's, as red
as Aiji's. All blood is the same. All blood will fade eventually. None of us
will be remembered much further then we impacted. And no one can really
change the world. So we'll all fade eventually. Some might stay longer then
others. But in the end we'll all fade because nothing is eternal.
Tiny red dots. My room, my apartment, my life is covered with them. Little
red dots. Now its been flowing into my room, my apartment, my life. Flowing
and I can do nothing to stop the flow from consuming me. I let the flow drip
onto the sheets as well. Alow my blood to mix with those I love. I even love
Aiji, he was always a good friend to me. Even with, even with Jun and
everything, I know he would do anything for me. At least I hope he would.
I'm so sorry. I cut Jun, I abused Aiji, I killed my brother. And for what?
I cut Jun for my own sadistic desires.
I abused Aiji because he made me realize how much I loved.
And my brother. Kohta. Why did he have to come? Why the fuck did he
have to come. Come and view all my flaws. All my errors. Why did he
of all people, a happy child, why did he deserve this? He came and I
couldn't bear to let him know, to let him know about his Onii-san. I took
the knife, my knife. And I slashed at him. He died painfully. Awfully.
And it wasn't until his chest had been torn to shreds that I stopped
slashing. He folded over, lay crying, dying. And there was nothing I could
do to stop him from leaving me. Because I pushed him. I pushed him
so fucking hard. I deserve to die.
I lay my head on the sheets, on the blood red sheets. Aiji's blood, Kohta's
blood. I lay my head where the torn remains of Kohta's chest lies beneath.
It sinks a bit. My own blood continues to seep into my clothing. I'm sorry
Kohta.
I'm sorry.
back to pierrot fic page