BearNecesitiess
Level 21
Quick Disclaimer.
While yes, I know Sulli never made it to Tokyo, this is a sort of "what if" story. So please, it's purely a little project of mine, which may be really bad but oh well.
The sunlight blared into my apartment, blinding me more than I already was. Placing a hand out in front of my face to cover up the source of light as I rose to my feet from off the ground. I looked around the dirty apartment, unsure of what had happened the night before, however, the bottle of alcohol that stood out from the many beer cans scattered across the room gave me an idea. She got me drunk again, that sneaky little rascal. I picked up the bottle from the ground, tipping it upside down to find out it’s empty before chucking it out the window. I placed my hand against my forehead, the throbbing pain barely even noticeable, but bad enough to get on my nerves. I looked into the mirror, ragged clothes? Check. Dull look? Check. Menacing Glasgow smile? Check. Eye-patch? Check. Ready to go, I tell myself as I walk out the door, stopping to look at an old photo of my friends and me celebrating, as I always do every morning. I stepped out, wandering the streets for something to do, passing by every new bar and restaurant that opened up in this city. None of those places appealed to me though, I needed somewhere where I wouldn’t get stares from every direction, and it’s harder than it seems. I stared at people through the corner of my one good eye, only one thing playing through my head. A disturbing poem that I had heard from someone.
"Oh me, oh my, a monster inside. He stalks and then kills, his smile, sends chills. For he is the myth, the monster of Takashima."
"A devil and child sitting with him, as the rest of the town, cries to his hymn, and as he wears the crown. Poor souls are put to rest, by the monster and his friends, their bodies left a mess."
"However, they say, he was not the king. In fact there is one more, pulling the strings."
"The puppet master, left unknown, seemingly hidden from the cries and laughter."
This poem plays through my head every day, and all I can think of afterwards is what my mother would do if she found out I was a horrible person. She’d be devastated, her first born son, a murderer. I can’t think of that though, not right now. My mother doesn’t need to know anything.
I look up pulling my hood off my head and fixing my shoulder length messy hair. Somehow I had made it to the destination I was looking for. The house was huge, I expected as much since he was some high class business man though. The windows huge against the black exterior, a giant modern door looming over me as I walk up to it. I knock, placing my hands in my pockets shortly after as I wait for someone to open the door. To my surprise, she opens the door. Should’ve expected as much from a paranoid person though. I greet the woman warmly before she escorts me inside, a smile more than I was already burdened with stretching across my face as we have a small chat walking through the house. My moment of joy however is snuffed out as we walk into the room to see him and my companions sitting around a large desk. I say nothing as I sit down in the seat next to her, leaning back as much as I stretch my legs under the table, brushing against another males feet on accident. Neither of us cared though, I just crossed my arms and listened to him talk on and on and on. The meeting is dull as I see my companions writing stuff down, the paper I was given still empty. He tells me I’m to be the muscle of this operation, I nod quickly after, remaining silent as he points to her, he tells her that she’ll be assisting the group through cameras. She nods as well as the meeting is dismissed, we both get up, I put a closed fist out to her and she pounds it back, chuckling slightly we exit the room and I meet up with my team.
We get in the car, five of us, the male with red hair I had brushed up against during the meeting sits in the passenger seat giving us orders as I grimace. As we drive, I only hear white noise as the male speaks, tuning him out with emptiness. We arrive at the destination as we grab out stuff, I kick the door down, the lock coming off easily against my weight. A small party is happening and everyone is in a confused state as we move in. I hit someone over the head four or five times with my bat, leaving them there as we move on to the others. One by one, the party members have much more than their innocence taken away, as we walk back to the car, I drag my bloodied bat across the ground, the red liquid leaving a trail behind me. We arrive back at the house, a white haired male sent to dispose of the vehicle and weapons, as we walk into the house. The others are cheering on a successful job, as I remain silent once more, I lean against the wall, not long before I see her walking across the room, and I smile, as I hold my side, my vision getting blurry as I topple to the ground. “Sulli!” she says as she rushes over to me, and before I know it.
Darkness.
While yes, I know Sulli never made it to Tokyo, this is a sort of "what if" story. So please, it's purely a little project of mine, which may be really bad but oh well.
The sunlight blared into my apartment, blinding me more than I already was. Placing a hand out in front of my face to cover up the source of light as I rose to my feet from off the ground. I looked around the dirty apartment, unsure of what had happened the night before, however, the bottle of alcohol that stood out from the many beer cans scattered across the room gave me an idea. She got me drunk again, that sneaky little rascal. I picked up the bottle from the ground, tipping it upside down to find out it’s empty before chucking it out the window. I placed my hand against my forehead, the throbbing pain barely even noticeable, but bad enough to get on my nerves. I looked into the mirror, ragged clothes? Check. Dull look? Check. Menacing Glasgow smile? Check. Eye-patch? Check. Ready to go, I tell myself as I walk out the door, stopping to look at an old photo of my friends and me celebrating, as I always do every morning. I stepped out, wandering the streets for something to do, passing by every new bar and restaurant that opened up in this city. None of those places appealed to me though, I needed somewhere where I wouldn’t get stares from every direction, and it’s harder than it seems. I stared at people through the corner of my one good eye, only one thing playing through my head. A disturbing poem that I had heard from someone.
"Oh me, oh my, a monster inside. He stalks and then kills, his smile, sends chills. For he is the myth, the monster of Takashima."
"A devil and child sitting with him, as the rest of the town, cries to his hymn, and as he wears the crown. Poor souls are put to rest, by the monster and his friends, their bodies left a mess."
"However, they say, he was not the king. In fact there is one more, pulling the strings."
"The puppet master, left unknown, seemingly hidden from the cries and laughter."
This poem plays through my head every day, and all I can think of afterwards is what my mother would do if she found out I was a horrible person. She’d be devastated, her first born son, a murderer. I can’t think of that though, not right now. My mother doesn’t need to know anything.
I look up pulling my hood off my head and fixing my shoulder length messy hair. Somehow I had made it to the destination I was looking for. The house was huge, I expected as much since he was some high class business man though. The windows huge against the black exterior, a giant modern door looming over me as I walk up to it. I knock, placing my hands in my pockets shortly after as I wait for someone to open the door. To my surprise, she opens the door. Should’ve expected as much from a paranoid person though. I greet the woman warmly before she escorts me inside, a smile more than I was already burdened with stretching across my face as we have a small chat walking through the house. My moment of joy however is snuffed out as we walk into the room to see him and my companions sitting around a large desk. I say nothing as I sit down in the seat next to her, leaning back as much as I stretch my legs under the table, brushing against another males feet on accident. Neither of us cared though, I just crossed my arms and listened to him talk on and on and on. The meeting is dull as I see my companions writing stuff down, the paper I was given still empty. He tells me I’m to be the muscle of this operation, I nod quickly after, remaining silent as he points to her, he tells her that she’ll be assisting the group through cameras. She nods as well as the meeting is dismissed, we both get up, I put a closed fist out to her and she pounds it back, chuckling slightly we exit the room and I meet up with my team.
We get in the car, five of us, the male with red hair I had brushed up against during the meeting sits in the passenger seat giving us orders as I grimace. As we drive, I only hear white noise as the male speaks, tuning him out with emptiness. We arrive at the destination as we grab out stuff, I kick the door down, the lock coming off easily against my weight. A small party is happening and everyone is in a confused state as we move in. I hit someone over the head four or five times with my bat, leaving them there as we move on to the others. One by one, the party members have much more than their innocence taken away, as we walk back to the car, I drag my bloodied bat across the ground, the red liquid leaving a trail behind me. We arrive back at the house, a white haired male sent to dispose of the vehicle and weapons, as we walk into the house. The others are cheering on a successful job, as I remain silent once more, I lean against the wall, not long before I see her walking across the room, and I smile, as I hold my side, my vision getting blurry as I topple to the ground. “Sulli!” she says as she rushes over to me, and before I know it.
Darkness.
