This is an original story. Be forewarned that this is DARK. So if you
don't like something of this sort, don't read it. Constructive C & C are
welcome. Have fun reading.
-Shuichi Minamino
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DAMAGE
A broken body lays on the ground. A few feet ahead, another one. Blood is
everywhere. That is appropriate. That is an appropriate way to kill. The
people at the lab tell him that they don't care how he does it, as long as
he succeeds in assassinating the whole family. It is just as easy as that.
He doesn't need weapons, he can very well kill with his bare hands.
Although the feeling of holding a weapon of any kind can feel good,
especially when he feels the blood splattering as the artery break.
He is about to leave when he spots a mirror. He looks at himself. The
beautiful youth in the mirror stares back at him coldly with the same
emotionless eyes. One golden eye and one sapphire eye, light brown hair
with golden streaks...his trademark. They've told him that he can't be
human, for no human can look like that, with those pair of odd color eyes,
or have his strength and endurance. He no longer knows pain. They have
made sure that he has experienced and known every pain possible. They have
made sure that all he can do are to kill, to destroy, and to
terminate...like a machine, something he has come to despise.
He looks at his watch, three o'clock. He can't be late for the
celebration. Today is the anniversary day and he plans to make it a
memorable one. He picks up his
weapon and exits the door. He has used a crossbow for killing this time.
An interesting choice. Crossbows hold a special meaning for him. They are
ancient, but they are efficient. Sometimes technology can be a burden. He
remembers how when he was a child, he was trapped in that cubicle, operated
by technology.
He has been used as an experiment. They took him away from his family when
he was four and they made him witnessed their killing of his family. He
thought he saw his sister screaming as she was being sliced in two, his
mother crying as her throat was slashed, and his father lunging at the men
in anger but only to be torn apart, limb by limb.
They have wanted him for his destructive capability. He is told that he
has potential, has endurance and capability beyond that of a normal human.
He can still remember the blood, the chains, and the pain. The horrid smell
of blood, sweat, and death. But now death is his friend. He remember how
they had to contain him, just so that his power would not destroy every
living thing inside and outside the lab.
But he knows, they did more than just that. He remembers how seven years
ago, the day he turned seven, how several of the men had come into his
little cell; had chained him heavily with machinary and metals, and then
forced themselves on him; violating and ripping him physically and mentally
apart. It was meant to showed their dominance. Because they were seeing
more and more of his power each day, and they were frightened. Never again,
never again since will he let anyone go near him, because he hates human
beings. He hates himself for being human.
He listens to them and carries out their commands to assasinate others, of
his free will. He owes them nothing and he knows it. But he feels a
certain catharsis when he kills. As if all the unjust done to him are being
repaid. He can control life and death of others. He is always in control.
He can tear life apart, or put it back together. That is part of his
ability. Life, life doesn't mean anything to him.
He is ready. He screws the last nail into place and stands up. Now, it's
time for the celebration for the anniversary. This will be the last thing
he is to do at this place. Then he will vanish for good. It has been ten
years since he had met those scientists. Today is the tenth year
anniversary, how appropriate. Everything is so appropriate these days. He
knows that he is going to enjoy this very much.
He carries a small box and a big bouquet of white roses into the lab
building. The guards won't let him carry anything inside, so he shoots one
of them, and rips the other's throat out. The blood tastes good, better
than his own, for he remembers tasting his own blood in his mouth when they
were beating him in the past. He looks down at his clothes and is a bit
annoyed to find blood stain on them. Damn, he just brought these today. He
is supposed to look good and neat at a celebration. Damn those guards!
The men see what he carries and gap in surprise. He has made sure that
everyone in the lab gather there. He then turns his head and meets eyes
with the supervisor, the head of the lab.
"What is the meaning of this?!" The man demands. "Have you gone mad?"
He doesn't move or respond, he only smiles. They are taken back, when was
the last time they've seen him smiled? That is an icy smile, a smile of
pure hatred, dread, and death so cold that it was enough to freeze one's blood.
He opens the lid of the box. The men see what is inside and run for the
door, the window, or any openings in the room. But nothing will budge. He
has pre-programmed everything. For those that aren't controlled by
machines, he has put up bolts and heavy locks. He has to make sure that
everyone would be here, for he wants everyone to enjoy the celebration of
the tenth year anniversary. He hates to have anyone missing out for the
occasion.
He smiles again, this time a genuine smile. His face so beautiful that it
resembles one of an angels, the angel of Death. He mouths the words "Happy
Aniversary" and throws the box and the white roses into the air.
The men cry out in silent horror as the world before them explodes and
turnes into a mass of red and black. White flower petals dance and swirl in
the air, blood splatters on the floor, ceiling, walls and on to the rose
petals. The bright red blood and snow white roses make beautiful patterns;
the red glittering on the white like silver stars glittering in the black
sky; and raining red rain onto the ground.
The force of the explosion destroyed everything within the ten mile radius.
He is thrown back by the force. He lands hard and feels his bones breaking,
shattering, feeling himself being torn apart again. He opens his eyes after
the sound of the explosion has subsided and stands up. All he has suffered
is a broken arm, no need to worry. He can take care of it. He twists at
his left arm to bend it back into shape, the pain shot through him as he
does so, and it feels good.
The debris of the lab and of the mechanical city scatter around him. Parts
of the scientists bodies strewn about everywhere. It is all too
appropriate. Everything, the burial, and the final act. He likes this
anniversary celebration that he has
planned, maybe he will do it again.
He walks out of the city and toward the dying sun. He is not human. No
human could have done such a deed. He knows that, for he had ceased to be
human long time ago. They have turned him into death. The damage has long
been done.
--------------------DAMAGE (END)-----------------
--Shuuichi Minamino
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* "J'aurais "I would have wanted *
* voulu ne pas mourir. not to die. *
* J'aurais voulu I would have wanted *
* ne jamais grandir. never to grow up. *
* J'aurais I would have *
* voulu me casser l'ame." wanted to rend my soul." *
* *
* ~Cirque Du Soleil ~Circus Of The Sun *
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
* http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Towers/2848 *
* http://www.kurama.ranma.com *
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