Part 31 - The Fatal Nocturne.

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My whole life I've been obligated to be appealing to others.

That is my duty to uphold- to cater to your needs until the next person comes along.   The richer person.  The more handsome person.  The weaker person.

I find the key to your heart and gently sneak inside.  But once I've infiltrated your mind, being gentle and kind doesn't seem to satisfy anymore - it doesn't feel necessary or right.  It's no longer the time to be merciful to people.

With everything that this cruel world has taken away from me, it doesn't feel wrong to be selfishly humane every once in a while.

To take back what's mine.

Because - what people don't understand is, they're only helping me.

Sure, I'll push you up when I need to, but when you lend a hand- I won't hesitate to step all over you for myself- for my own walk of glory.   That's the trick.  You think I care about you when I really care so little about everything.  I only like what you have to give for me.  If it takes walking over the bodies of those I've sacrificed, then build me a hill.  I will climb it.

If you want popularity- an ever-changing, transfusing prospect, make yourself as appealing as possible.  If you want to be a champion- be willing to be the bad guy.

And if you want to be the popular champion?

Do both.

You see- to save the world, you must first destroy it.  You must first take it apart and slowly, meticulously, piece it back together.  One by one - pick up the jaded fragments needed to repair a cracked, broken world.

The foundations of a demented earth must be reformed in order to improve as a whole.  A place that is wicked and ghastly at its core can never truly be fixed.  The novelty of its newfound virtues and morality will wear off with this beguiling facade, exposing the corruption that's been rotting away at its very being since the beginning of time.

To put it simply, I am neither the hero or the villain.

I play the part of the antagonist in order to improve and encourage the protagonist.

In a way, I can not even describe myself as an anti-hero.

I am just a heroically villainous, villainously heroic - human.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I slowly lowered myself onto the bed, soft creases growing in the blankets along with the stiffening that came with every sob.  The cries of the lying man were delicate and gentle, but his pain was rough and deafening- an overwhelming presence in the face of positivity.

His meek voice rang clear in the midst of a blurred cluster of emotions, tears clouding his thoughts as his slim patience began to waste away.

"..Go away."

A numbing tingle encapsulated my bones, reminding me of my own worries as a sickly feeling rose up in the pit of my stomach- a result of never really knowing what lies beyond my mind.  Feeling just as clueless as an adult as I have as a child.

I clenched my fists, desperately trying to grasp some sort of order within a chaotic world, even if the control I found turned out to be more hectic than anticipated.

A less than graceful sigh slipped from my lips as I stole a glance, my gaze - a thoughtful thief longing for some answers.  

Even if I knew they weren't the words I wanted to hear, it was worth it all to hear his voice- a sweet symphony of virtue, each begging note asking for repentance and forgiveness.  And maybe he'd be the first I'd give both to.

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