Obsession ||Insane Deku||

Chapter Sixteen: Dearest Diary

Izuku didn't bother moving his mother's body from its spot on the kitchen floor. Instead, he stumbled over it, taking unsteady steps back to his bedroom.

What he had just done was something that had never truly occurred to him to ever do. He'd taken things apart before, but he'd never thought about breaking them.

The air in his room was dark and oppressive; sticky black ink staining his lungs. The shadow was everywhere now, coiling around him with silk tenticals; seeping into his skin and rotting his brain.

Rotting?

Was that really the right word for it? It felt more invigorating than that, like forcing ecstasy straight into his nervous system. Was it really right to call that rot?

Laughter escaped him. Of course not. This felt too good to be decay.

He wobbled over to his desk, slumping in the chair, uncaring of the mess of blood he left behind as he opened his most recent journal. For a moment he thought, tapping the end of his pencil against his mouth.

Then, he started to write.

The original plan, observing and obtaining small souvenirs from random villain encounters, was slow and short-sighted. People have always said "good things come to those who wait", but sometimes, it's better to take the initiative. After all, I've been waiting fifteen years of my miserable life and I still haven't got what I want. Whoever it was to make up that moral was probably boring and slow, so they made something up to make them feel better about their pathetic existence. Taking it slow is cowardly, it is better to just take.
      But I can't just go in unprepared. No. My first action will be to take the nobodies. The ones who have no one who will miss them. The ones whose bodies could be found in a ditch and the police will chock it up to overdose.

Izuku grinned, sticking a bloodied finger in his mouth

I will take from the dirtiest slums, the murkiest sewers, and make my way up until I finally have them. But they won't be treated like the others- of course not. They are much too special. I will make them mine, keep them, and never let go again.
      I wonder if they will struggle at first. If they will reject my affections? But they will learn. I will teach them that I mean them no harm. I merely wish to preserve them. They are very special indeed.
      But why, if they are so special, why keep them to myself?

Drying blood flaked off his clothes and fluttered onto the page like cherry blossoms.

The answer to that question is simple. The world does not deserve to witness such beauty.

Izuku stood, suddenly angry. He closed the notebook with a ferocity he didn't know he possessed. He stomped out of his room and into the bathroom, pulling off bloodied clothes as he went.

Stepping into the shower, he vigorously scrubbed at his skin and hair.

His plan, barely realized and newly conceived, was to start effective immediately.

The tangled curls of his hair caught in the cracks of his unkempt fingernails.

Streams of pink swirled down the drain.

The time for action...

~*~

//turns out, all I need to pump out half 1000 words on a whim was to stay up till midnight reading psychological horror//