Death is fickle… and cruel. It takes without asking, and leaves those to carry on standing in its wake wondering ‘what the hell just happened?’. I’ve never wanted to taste death more than I do this moment. I both welcome death and despise it; consider it my closest friend and my eternal enemy. Death is unforgiving and never cautious – striking like a coiled spring set loose upon its victim. Death and I have met on several occasions, but never like this. Death has become both my saviour and the blackest fiend. As if it had any right to take what doesn’t belong to it.
Axl didn’t get that promotion, but that’s not why I’m so upset… so angry… and sad. Axl is… he’s fucking dead. It seems so easy to write this out here, but when I try to speak it aloud, an uncomfortable and unwanted pang of grief threatens to choke me should I utter the word. It’s not fucking fair! Axl was mine! They had no right to… to… DAMMIT!
I told myself I would never cry again. Not since my ‘death’. This news.. this… it’s just… too much. Even as I write, the sobs are ever-cascading and overflowing. It’s pain I never thought I would have to feel. I don’t. Want. It. I just want… I just want my Axl. If I knew where those sisters were, there heads would be displayed triumphantly on a stake!
Stop it! Stop replaying in my head! I don’t want to relive it! Dammit… fuck… I still can see it clear as day, and I will always see it just as clearly because the image has been burned into my memory just like Axl’s — stop it. I’ve never experienced such an intense level of anger… and grief… and loss… and abandonment. He’s gone! Axl’s never coming back to me! Dammit. Stop it. The basement… the lit fireplace at the end of the room… Axl being held by two newborns… that old female vampire staring at me as she — stop! Just fucking stop!!!!
Even after I ripped her fucking body to shreds not even the rats would eat, I still was not satisfied. Nothing will ever satiate my hunger for death until I am the one in the fire. I could kill a thousand people from this moment, and thetaste of death will not be as sweet as when it is me who is dead and I can see Axl. It sounds so pathetic.. and vulnerable. I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about anything anymore. Even when I hadn’t met Axl, I still had some heart — some civility. But now… nothing. I feel nothing. I’ve never experienced this eerie numbness that is so painful! I just want it to go away! Make it stop!
I don’t have any motive to do anything. I feel just as dead as I wish I really were. The only thing that’s keeping me sane enough to not do something completely off like suicide is the fact those sisters are still out there. I will have my revenge. I’ll tear their fucking limbs off until there’s nothing left to be burned.
It’s strange, but even when I was killing those newborns…. when I had so much anger and hateinside of me… I couldn’t use my ability. I just… it reminds me… I couldn’t relive the memories it brought. Not that curling up in the corner of my room in a pathetic fetal position is much better. Every memory I have of Axl is here, screaming at me from all sides and giving me such a headache! Just leave me be! If my memories are here to torment me the least they could do is have the intent to kill me!
I just…. can’t write anymore… I need… to vent… on something… on someone… I want Axl. I want revenge. I want death. How selfish of death to take what doesn’t belong to it and leave me behind! If Axl is to die, shouldn’t I too?
I’m not thinking straight. Gods! Axl would ridicule me to no end if he saw me now.. and I wouldn’t care because at least I’d see him again. So pathetic… and so sappy! When did I become so… so… in love? Dammit! And all it brought me was unwanted pain and death!
I have no heart. All I have is an empty shell.
I will never fall so foolishly again.