Vile Shade [Book 3] [Jeff the Killer x Reader] [JTK]

Memory 10: Quondam (Day 153)

I can almost taste the immense amount of sin that has infested my memory of that night.

Running aimlessly though vital thoughts and rummaging through vital organs isn't a pretty image. My hands just stain with more and more of that lactose red and magenta sanity. The fuzzy outlines of my fingers tremble even more when stare at my palm, inhaling the scent of poison.

The mirror contains a wolf dressed with a rabbit's humid stare. It's neutral expression is nothing compared to the wild thoughts and horrible imagination being digested in this wolf's mind, for it is too far gone to realize what damage could be done. As cravings for blood spread across its lips, the glow of its pupils shine dim in the dark. The bright white moon illuminates my sins and makes my reflection look like a monster on a rosebush, just slowly eating away at the pedals, tearing them apart one by one, and throwing them onto the filthy, flaming ground.

This silent night echoes maybe a thousand times over before I realize that the ringing in my ears is deadly. I hate the toxic pitter-patter of the rain falling in my head. It almost shines with blue and depression all around my eye sockets, and it surely would if I wasn't able to protect myself from it by using my enemy. I have to keep my enemies closer than my friends, so fate and I look like siblings.

Tip toe... The wolf is at his door now. Wherever should he hide? Oh, there is no where left for him to reside. He'll be taken out of his agony and thrown into eternal emptiness.

The creak of the hinges wakes his tired eyes.

"Liu," the wolf says, "you've been a great brother to me. You know that?"

You don't. You don't know that, right? You shouldn't... You can't. I'm not who you think I am. And if you answer that goddamn question, I swear, you'll just be torn apart regardless. The wolf is underneath that putrid stare; don't trust it. It gobbles away its agony like the pathetic smirk it is.

"That's what we've always said," you reply.

And that's the part where you messed up. Did you not see the line of sharp teeth before you opened your mouth? Did you not notice what big nose the wolf had before you gave in to your repetitive instinct? And the eyes- did you not see what big eyes it had? The ones that were peering down at you? Maybe you did... Maybe you didn't... But you shouldn't have given up like that. If you knew you were going to die, why would you even try? Why? To enjoy the life you already had? To try and fix the problem that passed our guards and destroyed our perfect family? Listen, Liu. This world isn't perfect. We couldn't be.

"I'm going to die soon," the wolf says.

"Well isn't that a bit ironic?"

He's standing upright on top of his bed. But his feet are nowhere near the mattress. Now he's staring down at me, and his scorn-filled dialect is black with envy and revenge.

"What you're doing to that girl," he starts. "The effects will just be taken out on you."

I think the room is empty now. Not black. Not white. Just empty and dark.

"It's funny how cyanide can cause cancer, but you were the one who ended up getting it. Out of all people."

This... can't be my brother anymore.

If he was, he would be by my side, not facing it. He's not the type to stand behind people and strike when they least expect it like I would. And he doesn't ever torment people on what fate did to them. Because that's fair judgement. He believes that everything happens for a reason, no matter how stupid or insignificant, so he never judges anyone unless he knows everything about them. And like I said before, he doesn't know me. He doesn't understand why I'm doing what I'm doing, so he can't hold this against me. This figure standing in front of me has to be just my imagination. It can't be him.

Can it?

"It's not my fault that I killed you," I snicker. "And it wasn't Johnny's either. It was fate, because fate sent Johnny-"

"Johnny, Johnny. Oh, it's always Johnny," the demon mocks. "Why can't you understand that he's your excuse for letting go of yourself? He's your excuse for your anger management issues and temper. God, you always had a terrible temper. That's what made you kill those two boys on the sidewalk."

I honestly have nothing left to say to him. For all I know, this presence could be Johnny trying to provoke me again. I don't want that. That's a nightmare. I hate when he decides to visit me in the middle of the night. It's like a dog slobbering all over your face in the morning, waking you up from a wonderful, yet vexed, dream. If only fate worked like a dog... I'm sure I would be able to tame it and manipulate it to do exactly what I want. At this point, the only thing left that I could do is try to barter and get it on my side. But I hate playing the game of fate. It's completely unfair. It doesn't read into people's lives enough or know why they're doing what they're doing. That's why I liked Liu so much; he never ever believed anyone would do something without a good reason. And until he figured out exactly why someone did something, he trusted and never doubted them. Just like how he never doubted me.

In his case, it was a flaw.

In fate's case, it's a goal.

Whenever fate decides to push karma on those who do nothing with their life and do nothing to progress humanity, everyone will be served better judgement. Living today with these stupid rules and these stupid regulations is like living in a hell with "freedom". We can't do anything we want, and as soon as we can, we don't want to do it anymore. If that's their way of making sure everyone lives in despair and agony, they're doing a good job. Younger generations hate this stupid nightmare we live in. The nightmare like the one I'm in right now- with this figure of Liu telling me that I deserved what ruined my life. Honestly, I don't know if an innocent mind in a dream can comprehend that karma likes to get a head-start, but my being is lucid now. Ever since I learned that dreams were my ticket to my deepest thoughts and progressing arguments against fate, I've been wide awake in my sleep.

But sometimes I can't control what types of horrendous scenes generate in my mind.

Nightmares about fact... Nightmares about fiction... This one is the worst I've ever had.

And I wake up to find that reality is not very far from that nightmare.