Binary Star

Beyond the Event Horizon [1/2]

    I stand in the darkness with my feet planted firmly on the ground. Above me is the dome of the night sky, the stars twinkling as always. I used to love the stars with a passion that burned brighter than the hottest Suns. I know them, still, like the back of my hand. They used to bring me comfort. Looking up at them was like looking into the eyes of an old friend, one who would always be there for you, no matter what.

Well, friends come.
Friends go.

    The stars, once my partners in crime, are now my eternal judges. They have seen everything that I have done. They know things no one else does. From them, I can hide nothing. Every time I see them now, I am reminded of all that has happened as of the past few months. It sickens me.

    And of all things, it had to be the stars. So much for being ever present- they're just an illusion. The stars we see in the night sky now are long dead, gone dark. We wish upon ghosts and allow them to guide our way through life, as if though that wasn't a completely insane thing to do. We only know them because after all this time, their light has finally reached us. It's nothing more than a spectre, an echo of what was once real.

I refuse to let my life be guided by illusions.

    I stand with my feet firmly planted on the ground, stars judging me from above, and the cold, dark night enveloping me in the shadows. In front of me is a headstone, my headstone, but I care no more for it. There used to be flowers there every single time that I came to visit. There used to be sweet-smelling, colorful flowers, the biggest and most beautiful you could imagine. They were there, all for me, from people who once cared, people who once knew me. Now, all the flowers have withered and died away. Now, all that is left are dried up petals. Their perfumes no longer fill the air. My grave is devoid of all life. The boy buried there is dead now, truly dead. It's about damn time the world caught up to that.

    I stand, under the stars, on the cold hard ground covered in a thin sheet of dying grass, with my headstone in front of me, and I feel nothing. In life, I used to feel everything. I felt so much, so often, that it hurt. They tried to fix me, to medicate it all away until I was nothing more than an empty shell. Then I died, and suddenly, I felt even more. I felt the weight of a thousand worlds upon my shoulders. I felt the tears of every single man, woman, and child. I felt the pain of every victim there ever was. I felt it, and I accepted it as my own.

I swore to myself I would end it.

    I thought if I could do that, if I could put an end to all the suffering, then maybe I'd be healed of my own. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough. I'd have my own sort of justice. My one enemy would finally have paid his dues. Through all other such enemies' deaths, his wrongs would be atoned for.

I was wrong.

    It took me years to see, but now I know the truth. After all this time, I have realized what my true fight really was. After all this time, I have opened my eyes. The veil has been lifted. I no longer dwell in the shadows. After all this time, I know what I really wanted all along.

Now, I can go get it.

    I stand, with my feet firmly planted on the decaying grass, the dark, starry sky above me , my crumbling headstone in front of me, and behind? The body of a child.

    From my knife, a drop of blood falls onto the ground. The moonlight catches the blade and reflects at an angle, revealing its heavenly origin. The blood that falls from it corrodes the blade. With every kill like this one, it becomes duller. One day it will be rendered useless. On that day, I will surrender the blade, along with my grace and with the last white feather on my darkening wings. On that day, I will be officially exiled from Heaven. From that day on, I will be a demon.

Then, I shall take over Hell, too.