Hi everyone, this is my first fictional story to share. I got inspired of the many fictional stories I have read in here. Hope you will like it too.
You are an open book to me - Beneath the dimmed skies stood the man of forsaken ideals and has lost purpose with trembling knees, dejected purple eyes and slender fingers in endless tremors. How fickle the world truly is - he had seen it. And it left him with unusual and different sentiments that he never once acknowledged. Guilt and regret was an abomination to the same man who flared up the fire that burned countless dreams into pieces.
To lose the courage to carry out justice is the same as ending one's life. But no, not someone like him, of all people. Not him. Sympathy was for humans, And he was not one. He wasn't even evil, he was something beyond human comprehension. For a heart lacking of emotions, to waver after all the bloodshed was an act of cowardice for him and nothing more. Those who become slaves to conscience will find themselves caged within sorrow while being consumed by the weight of their sins. To waver like a dog who lost its passion was a taboo to a man such as himself who slaughtered men as if mankind was no different from pigs.
Mercy was indeed awful. He hated the unpleasant urge to pay attention to his victims pleas even just for once. Because he know, the words of the dead should be buried with them; forgotten, like a wilted petal crushed on the ground and never be remembered again. He hated that he had grown interested in people's thoughts, that maybe he became a prey to empathy. Usually, he'd push it into the back of his mind so he'd never even bat an eye on it again, but it comes back, it always does - it produce noises beneath his feet like an unheard cry as if it was always meant to be there. How vicious. He'd click his tongue and sit while contemplating about how spiteful he'd become, and it was utterly detestable that he wanted to throw up. Tamed wolves, although in sheep's clothing, remain fanged - very much similar to what people call compassion. Not a great being such as himself would lose to being humane. Feebleness never once had a room in the world. Not once, not ever.
"You are an open book to me, Theodore." Dazai once dared to say while gazing upod him in his almond eyes, as if he was not, in any way, foreign to them. The other's hazel eyes were of honey, too natural, way too comfortable for his liking - everything he wasn't. But strangely enough, despite their contradicting attitudes, Theodore had seen himself in Dazai. Who he was, who he is, and everything he'll ever become. Turns out, both of them were a lot more similar than they initially thought, and he does not like the idea of it. "There is a voice. A little voice that keeps on telling you to look at the light for once. You can here it too, right?"
"Why do you think so?" He nonchalantly answered, forcibly ignoring the part of him that actually agrees to Dazai's statement. Heed not to light's calling. Despair awaits whoever acknowledges kindness. Goodness is a side meant for foolish men who still believe in childish bedtime stories. Only ignorant fools would allow non-existent righteousness cloud reality, and he would never,ever consider standing in the same place with halfwits. He is more than just a mere man bound to get chained by virtue. Much, much more. "There is no such thing, Dazai ". I don't believe in light,let alone dare to look at whatever it is. So, let me ask you. Of all people, why do you think so?" Dazai chuckled. "Someone once told me that great minds think alike. Don't you think so, Theodore?"
-end-
*Thank you so much for taking the time reading. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. And also to my new sponsor @renren16 , thank you so much for choosing me.
Yay! Continue publishing the fruits of your creative mind and imagination. Keep up the good work, and hoping to see you around ~