The Puppeteer Part 3

The puppeteer - Regret

In the dark room, shut away from any glint of light and hope, the sound of a rippings could be heard. A nail, scratching and screeching the soft thick white surface of tissues, ripping the surface as it goes on and on. Tear drops wet the tissue as one after another drip onto it, damping the piece further. A hiccup, whimpers could be heard, sniffing after each sobs.

A soul that looks so death, no longer wish to keep on living, not wanting to see his wounds heal, aching to destroy himself. Keep on destroying his bandages on his arms. His eye was red and bruised, like he have been crying for eternity. The only eye he had and no longer care to take care of, hiccups, one after another in his broken whimpers. Red, only red is the colour he wanted to see in those darkness. He yearn for it, yearning to suffer and eliminated in painful way he believes he deserved.

Wet, he felt wet and as the last piece of the tissue fell revealing the wounds within, he bite the arms as strong as he could, trembles when it bleeds even further, and pull away. His trembling lips that has chapped and broke whispers slowly "s.. -orry.. " another tears mix with his blood. Then he took a sharp breath and bite his arms on another spot, ripping his own worn out shirt as he pulled away. He gritted his teeth with so much strength. Unsatisfied with his pain, wanting to punish himself even further, he knocked his own head to the wall beside him with fragile strength he had. Breathing sharply with each impact, it wasn't strong as he got no more energy to do so. He scratch his own cheeks with his nails, leaving five thin red lines of his face. Four on the left, and only one on his right caused by missing three fingers on his right. He grit his own teeth stronger as he look up and shut his eye to hold the pain. The pain that he caused to his broken figure. He grasps his shaking hands to a knuckles, gripping his own wounded hand so hard until it turns white. He felt his tears dripped to his own hands. Feeling so dreamy as he was swallowed by darkness, feeling so confused wether he is still alive or already dead. He heard nothing but his own sobbing. Everything felt so wrong.. So dark, like nothing will be alright, like he just made the biggest mistake in his life, like a big mistake that he couldn't forgive himself.

"E.. Emi.. -ly.. " Zylen whimpered uncontrollably. He lean weakly to the wall beside him, seeking for comfort, seeking for salvation from his suffering, hoping the guilt would decrease.. But it doesn't, instead, the voices in his head keep blaming him, and making him hate himself even more. His nails clawed his own head and he started crying harder as he curled into himself. He doesn't want to hear the voices anymore. He broke a few more whimpers and started gasping like he couldn't breath. His chest tighten with the transparent pressure he felt, pressing, squeezing him so hard like he could break. "He-.. Help me" he cried harder.

"Just die already"

"You deserve death, you monster"

Zylen gasps harder as he open his bruises eye slowly, watching the corpse sprawling and mixed up stacked at the corner of the dark basement. He peeked slowly over his shoulder, not daring to lifted his head up. He saw the hands, all over the place, filled with blood, blue and black by the finger, curling and moving, grasping the air and loosen up and repeat as if it wants to reach him. He gasps and cried harder, curling into himself even further. "D-don't" he begged. "S-scared.. I'm s-scared" he wails in fear.

"Murderer"

"Killer"

"Fucking whore"

"S-safe me.. Please safe me" he wail harder. "Em-emily" he hiccuped "where are you.. Why did you leave me" he cried harder. He backed away from his position, to stay away from the haunted corpses, pressing his hands to his face, not wanting to see anything anymore.