[-Data Entry 11 – The Realm of Souls and The Prison of Chaos –]
[-SUBJECT OF RESEARCH-]: The Director's Director, Lady Mirahiru and the story of her goings on prior to procuring Lord Mirahiru from without the confines of Earth.
[-SCOPE OF RESEARCH-] : To expound upon a matter of recent interest of The Director and of The Director's Director recent recollection. Prior to her ascendance as The Director's Muse of Chaos, and Queen of Darkness, she was but a reanimated soul given a task by an evil God (Kami) and one who was exceptionally adept at her toil. What terrors then, did she exact on those poor souls who fell within her domain? This report hopes to detail them for our dear readers.
[-NOTE FROM THE DESK OF THE DIRECTOR AND THE DIRECTOR'S DIRECTOR-]: H̴e̶h̷e̵h̸e̷h̵h̶e̷,̷ ̵w̶e̷'̵r̶e̸ ̷B̷A̸C̴K̸ ̶I̸N̵ ̵T̴H̶E̸ ̶A̶R̶C̵H̶I̷V̶E̵!̸~̷<̶3̴ ̶Y-yes, yes we are, my dear. As the last few entries seemed to be a bit too focused on m-A̸ ̷b̷i̸t̷ ̸t̸o̸o̸ ̸m̷u̵c̴h̸ ̵o̷f̵ ̵t̵h̸e̶ ̵s̵p̶a̵c̸e̴-̵y̴ ̸s̴t̸u̴f̶f̶,̶ ̶D̸a̷r̵l̷i̶n̶g̷.̸ ̶S̸o̸,̵ ̵I̸ ̷”̶c̴o̸n̷v̷i̵n̴c̵e̵d̵”̴ ̶D̵a̶r̴l̵i̴n̷g̷ ̸t̵o̶ ̶l̶e̸t̴ ̵u̶s̷ ̶t̴a̸l̸k̵ ̶a̶b̶o̵u̴t̸ ̵t̶h̸e̸ ̴F̴U̴N̵ ̷s̴t̶u̵f̸f̴ ̴w̶i̸t̸h̷ ̴t̶h̸e̷ ̵A̸r̵c̴h̶i̶v̴i̸s̶t̵.̶ Heh, yes..the “fun stuff” Yuki means are the stuff she did as a Reaper. Y̵U̴P̸!̵~̸ ̷A̶h̷,̵ ̷r̷i̶p̵p̵i̶n̵g̵ ̶t̸r̵a̵u̶m̵a̶ ̶o̵u̷t̶ ̵o̵f̶ ̸u̸n̵s̷u̸s̷p̷e̵c̶t̴i̷n̷g̸ ̴d̸a̷m̴n̸e̷d̸ ̴s̴o̷u̸l̶s̸ ̵a̸n̷d̵ ̷c̴r̷a̵f̴t̸i̸n̸g̸ ̵s̴o̷ ̵m̸a̵n̴y̴ ̴p̸u̸n̵i̵s̶h̶m̶e̴n̷t̴s̶.̴ ̴≯;̸3̷ Yuki begins to salivate and breath heavily ....A-anyway, as Yuki is VERY convincing we have decided to request the Archivist to detail from Yuki's memory, the day she ascended from Reaper to Queen of Chaos, Mischief and Despair. ~
[Editor's Note]: With that, dear readers...let us detail from Lady Mirahiru's Memory Extraction #0666.
[BEGINNING EXTRACTION FROM RECEPTACLE]////////////////////////////////////////////////////complete. [EQUALIZING CORRPUTION]////////////// ///////// /////////////////////// //////////////////////////////////// /////////////////////////////////// ////////////////////////////////////////// /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////error. Error: Chaos cannot be contained. .....Proceed? [Y/Y]:Y
[-Entry 11 – Just how what are you?–]
K̸a̴m̷i̶-̵s̷a̴n̷ ̷w̸a̶s̷ ̴n̵o̶t̵ ̷a̶ ̴n̸i̸c̸e̵ ̵m̵a̷n̸.̷ ̶ ̶W̶e̶l̴l̷,̴ ̴t̴o̸ ̴b̴e̷ ̸f̸a̸i̴r̸ ̴K̷a̵m̵i̶-̴s̶a̴n̵ ̶w̸a̵s̸n̸'̵t̸ ̴a̵ ̵m̷a̴n̷.̸ ̸K̶a̶m̴i̶-̷s̴a̶n̵ ̵w̴a̵s̵ ̴m̶y̵ ̷b̵o̷s̶s̵,̴ ̶m̴y̴ ̶r̵e̸-̸a̸n̴i̴m̶a̷t̸o̷r̸.̸ ̴B̷u̷t̷ ̸w̸h̸o̵ ̷h̶e̶ ̵r̸e̶a̷l̸l̶y̷ ̷w̶a̸s̴,̶ ̴w̵a̷s̷ ̶a̵n̷ ̶e̷v̶i̵l̸ ̵G̸o̷d̶.̶ ̵ ̶ ̵ ̸”̸L̸i̷t̶t̷l̶e̶ ̷l̶o̷s̴t̸ ̷o̶n̸e̴,̶ ̴I̷ ̵w̷i̵l̴l̴ ̷r̶e̶s̸t̶o̸r̷e̷ ̷y̴o̵u̶r̶ ̸p̶a̶t̴c̷h̸w̸o̴r̴k̸ ̶s̴e̸l̵f̶ ̶i̴f̵ ̶y̶o̷u̵ ̶d̷o̸ ̶b̷u̴t̷ ̴o̴n̷e̷ ̷t̵h̴i̵n̷g̸ ̸f̷o̵r̸ ̴m̶e̶,̷”̴ ̶h̵e̴ ̸b̷e̸g̵a̵n̵ ̷a̴s̸ ̷h̸e̸ ̷w̵h̸i̴s̴p̶e̵r̵e̵d̴ ̵d̷a̵r̸k̵l̵y̸,̶ ̷a̵ ̸s̷i̴n̴i̶s̴t̵e̴r̸ ̶v̷o̶i̷c̶e̴ ̸c̶o̴a̵t̷e̸d̷ ̵i̴n̵ ̷t̶h̴e̴ ̷h̵o̶n̷e̴y̷e̶d̴ ̵b̴l̸o̷o̶d̷ ̶o̷f̸ ̷a̶ ̴m̷i̶l̸l̸i̷o̵n̷ ̷l̶o̷s̸t̴ ̶s̸o̴u̴l̸s̶.̴ ̷”̸I̷ ̸w̸a̵n̴t̵ ̸y̸o̵u̴,̸ ̷t̶o̵ ̶b̸r̸i̴n̴g̴ ̶m̵e̶ ̸t̴h̵e̶ ̸r̸e̴f̵o̶r̸m̶e̶d̵ ̴s̶o̴u̷l̸s̷ ̷o̴f̶ ̶t̴h̶e̷ ̸m̶o̴s̴t̸ ̶v̷i̴l̵e̸.̷ ̵Y̴o̶u̴r̴ ̵t̶a̷s̶k̷ ̸i̷s̵ ̶n̶o̸t̴ ̸e̶a̴s̴y̶,̸ ̸b̴u̶t̷ ̵i̸n̵ ̷e̷x̵c̵h̵a̸n̷g̸e̴ ̸I̵ ̷s̴h̴a̷l̸l̴ ̸g̸i̶v̵e̴ ̴y̶o̸u̶ ̵t̸h̷e̴ ̶p̸o̸w̶e̸r̷ ̸t̴o̷ ̴t̴r̶u̷l̴y̷ ̷w̵r̴e̵c̸k̷ ̷t̶h̵e̶i̴r̴ ̴v̴e̷r̴y̸ ̸b̴e̶i̴n̸g̸s̷.̷ ̶W̷i̴l̶l̸ ̶y̵o̵u̸ ̸d̵o̸ ̵i̵t̴,̵ ̶d̶e̸a̶r̶e̷s̸t̴ ̵d̴e̴p̵a̷r̸t̶e̶d̴ ̵K̴i̷t̷t̶e̶n̸?̷”̷ ̴H̴e̸r̶e̶ ̵h̷e̵ ̵m̸a̴d̵e̴ ̸s̸u̴r̴e̸ ̴t̴o̵ ̴a̶c̷c̴e̸n̷t̷u̸a̸t̷e̷ ̶h̴i̸s̶ ̴s̶i̴l̴e̴n̷t̸ ̵t̷a̸u̴n̸t̶ ̷o̶f̶ ̴t̸h̸e̴ ̷c̸o̴b̵b̵l̸e̷d̷ ̴p̸i̶e̷c̷e̴s̷ ̷o̴f̵ ̸w̸h̴a̵t̵ ̷w̸a̵s̴ ̸o̶n̴c̷e̶ ̶m̵y̸ ̴f̵o̷r̶m̸.̵ ̸I̷ ̵h̸a̷t̵e̷d̸ ̸i̸t̸,̴ ̴b̵u̷t̵ ̶w̵h̵a̵t̷ ̶c̴h̶o̴i̴c̵e̷ ̶d̵i̷d̷ ̵I̶ ̷h̴a̶v̵e̵?̵ ̵ ̸ ̶”̸.̵.̵.̴I̵t̶'̵s̸ ̶f̸u̸n̶n̸y̵,̴ ̵i̴t̵'̷s̴ ̵a̷l̸m̷o̴s̷t̴ ̸a̵s̸ ̸i̷f̶ ̸I̴ ̵h̸a̶v̴e̴ ̸c̶h̴o̵i̸c̴e̷.̴”̵ ̸I̸ ̶g̷a̷r̶b̶l̴e̵d̷,̵ ̷m̴y̶ ̸l̴i̵p̷s̴ ̸h̸a̸v̸i̵n̸g̷ ̸b̸e̸e̵n̸ ̵r̸i̵p̷p̶e̶d̶ ̴f̷r̷o̴m̵ ̷m̶y̸ ̴f̷a̸c̷e̶ ̵b̴u̸t̵ ̵m̵e̸r̶e̸ ̴m̵o̷m̵e̶n̴t̶s̴ ̵a̷g̸o̵.̴ ̶H̸e̷ ̶n̸o̴d̷d̸e̵d̶ ̸a̴t̴ ̶t̸h̶e̴ ̶s̵i̵g̸h̴t̴.̵ ̴T̴o̶ ̴h̵i̶m̴,̶ ̵i̶t̸ ̵m̴u̵s̷t̶ ̴h̶a̸v̷e̷ ̶b̷e̷e̵n̶ ̷h̷i̷l̴a̵r̴i̷o̶u̴s̷.̶ ̷A̷ ̴p̴r̴o̷u̶d̸ ̸w̷o̷m̷a̴n̵,̴ ̵a̴s̶ ̵I̷ ̷h̴a̸d̵ ̶b̷e̷e̴n̸,̷ ̵n̴o̷w̴ ̶f̴o̸r̵c̴e̵d̶ ̷t̶o̶ ̵o̷n̷l̵y̴ ̶s̴t̵a̴r̷e̴ ̶u̸p̴ ̴a̶t̵ ̸t̸h̸e̷ ̶d̶a̸r̶k̵ ̵h̸o̷o̷d̶e̵d̷ ̶v̷i̵s̷a̵g̶e̶ ̴o̶f̵ ̵a̵ ̷m̸a̵n̶ ̸a̵b̴o̶v̵e̶ ̵m̴e̵.̷ ̴”̶I̵'̶l̶l̴ ̵t̵a̴k̵e̴ ̸t̴h̴a̸t̸ ̸a̶s̵ ̷ ̴a̵ ̸'̷Y̴e̷s̷ ̵m̴i̸s̵t̵e̵r̴ ̵K̵a̵m̵i̸,̴ ̸I̵'̷l̸l̴ ̶b̶e̶ ̸a̴ ̸g̸o̴o̵d̵ ̷g̵i̸r̵l̶'̵,̶”̸ ̴h̶e̷ ̵r̴e̷p̶l̵i̷e̸d̷ ̸s̷n̶i̶d̵e̷l̸y̶,̶ ̴a̶n̵d̷ ̸c̵o̸n̸t̵i̴n̸u̴e̴d̴ ̷t̴o̸ ̵s̸p̴e̸a̴k̴ ̴a̶s̶ ̴h̵e̵ ̶r̷e̴a̴s̶s̴e̶m̴b̴l̶e̷d̶ ̶m̸y̷ ̵s̴h̶r̴e̴d̷d̶e̷d̴ ̷r̶e̴m̷a̶i̶n̷s̴.̷ ̸”̵N̵o̸w̷,̴ ̶m̴y̷ ̵p̶a̶t̴c̵h̸w̷o̸r̴k̶ ̵p̶r̵i̶n̵c̵e̶s̴s̷,̶ ̵r̸u̶d̴e̶ ̷a̸s̴ ̷y̸o̵u̶ ̴m̸a̵y̴ ̸b̵e̵ ̸-̸ ̷I̵ ̶w̴i̵l̷l̴ ̴o̶v̵e̵r̷l̶o̴o̸k̵ ̴i̷t̶ ̶f̴o̷r̵ ̶n̴o̴w̶.̷ ̶R̷i̸g̴h̷t̷ ̵n̴o̷w̶,̸ ̸I̸ ̸h̶a̸v̷e̵ ̷s̶o̴m̷e̸ ̸w̵o̴r̵k̶ ̴f̴o̸r̸ ̵a̵ ̷w̴r̴e̴t̷c̵h̶ ̴s̴u̶c̶h̵ ̵a̶s̸ ̴y̷o̶u̸.̵”̶ ̶h̷e̴ ̷s̸m̴i̶l̵e̷d̴,̶ ̵n̸o̴w̶ ̵a̴b̸l̵e̸ ̴t̸o̷ ̵s̸e̴e̴ ̵m̵e̶ ̵a̴t̴ ̶m̴y̴ ̴f̵u̸l̵l̴ ̷h̶e̴i̷g̴h̸t̴.̶ ̶ ̸ ̴”̶P̴r̴i̵n̶c̴e̵s̶s̷,̶ ̶h̷u̷h̸?̶”̸ ̵I̸ ̴s̷a̸i̶d̶,̶ ̴s̵o̶m̵e̷h̶o̶w̵ ̷s̵m̷i̸l̴i̷n̵g̶ ̸a̴s̵ ̸i̶f̵ ̸t̴o̵ ̴l̷a̵u̶g̷h̸ ̸a̶t̴ ̴t̵h̷e̸ ̶a̷b̷s̵u̵r̸d̸i̶t̸y̶ ̸o̶f̶ ̸t̵h̸i̷s̶ ̸n̵e̵w̸ ̴c̸o̵n̵t̶r̶a̵c̴t̵.̶ ̶H̵e̷r̴e̵,̴ ̴I̴ ̴t̶h̴o̵u̴g̴h̶t̵ ̸i̶n̵ ̷d̶e̸a̴t̷h̷ ̸I̷ ̴c̵o̷u̴l̸d̷ ̸f̶i̷n̶a̶l̵l̶y̶ ̷r̵e̴s̷t̵ ̵m̵y̸ ̶o̷b̷l̶i̴g̷a̴t̶i̴o̷n̸s̷ ̵a̸n̸d̸ ̵l̴e̴t̸ ̴l̸o̷o̸s̶e̷ ̶b̸u̸t̵ ̵h̸e̶r̷e̴ ̵I̶ ̵w̴a̷s̵.̸.̶.̷u̸n̴d̶e̵r̵ ̵a̵ ̵n̶e̶w̸ ̷m̵a̵n̶.̵ ̶T̷h̷o̵u̷g̵h̶,̸ ̴b̷e̴i̵n̷g̴ ̵o̶n̷e̵ ̵t̷r̷a̶i̸n̶e̸d̷ ̶i̶n̷ ̷c̸o̵m̸b̴a̶t̸,̸ ̴I̵ ̶k̸n̷e̶w̸ ̸a̸l̵l̴ ̶t̸o̵o̴ ̴w̵e̶l̴l̷ ̷I̷ ̸w̶o̴u̵l̷d̷ ̴b̷e̴ ̴u̷s̷e̷d̶ ̴a̶s̸ ̴a̸ ̸w̵e̸a̷p̸o̶n̸ ̸i̸n̴ ̵t̶h̸i̴s̵ ̴w̷o̷r̴l̶d̸ ̴a̸n̷d̷ ̶t̴h̶e̸ ̷n̴e̸x̷t̷.̴ ̷ ̷ ̷”̵Y̷e̶s̷,̸ ̷n̶o̴w̴ ̵b̴e̴f̸o̶r̵e̸ ̶y̸o̴u̸ ̶g̵e̸t̸ ̶a̵l̸l̸ ̸h̷i̸g̶h̴ ̶a̸n̷d̴ ̸m̷i̸g̵h̷t̶y̸ ̷l̴e̷t̸'̸s̸ ̸g̵e̵t̴ ̸y̵o̶u̵ ̶a̵ ̷w̸e̵a̵p̸o̵n̵.̶”̵ ̴A̵s̴ ̸h̸e̴ ̵f̴i̴n̷i̵s̴h̷e̶d̴ ̵t̵h̷i̵s̴ ̴s̴t̵a̷t̷e̴m̴e̵n̴t̶,̵ ̶i̵n̶ ̶t̴h̸e̷ ̸n̶e̴x̵t̶ ̷b̶r̶e̴a̸t̶h̵ ̸a̸ ̴l̷o̷n̷g̶,̷ ̵k̵a̷t̶a̴n̶a̷ ̵s̶h̸a̷p̵e̶d̸ ̶s̸h̷a̴d̸o̷w̸ ̴s̴e̶e̵m̴e̶d̸ ̶t̴o̴ ̵c̸u̴t̴ ̴t̸h̸r̶o̶u̶g̸h̵ ̴t̵i̶m̸e̶ ̴a̸n̴d̴ ̷s̴p̵a̷c̷e̸ ̴a̶n̶d̶ ̴a̸p̷p̸e̵a̶r̶e̶d̵ ̶i̵n̵ ̷h̶i̶s̷ ̶h̴a̸n̵d̴s̴.̵ ̸I̸ ̷k̴n̶e̴w̸ ̶t̴h̸e̵ ̶f̵o̷r̶m̸ ̵i̵m̶m̶e̶d̷i̵a̴t̷e̴l̸y̷,̷ ̸b̵u̵t̷ ̶s̸o̶m̸e̶h̸o̴w̷ ̵t̷h̴i̷s̸ ̸b̵l̵a̴d̸e̶ ̴s̵e̶e̸m̶e̴d̶ ̴d̶i̵f̴f̶e̸r̴e̷n̴t̶.̵ ̶T̸a̸k̵i̴n̴g̶ ̷i̸t̶ ̶i̸n̵ ̴m̶y̸ ̷h̵a̵n̵d̵s̸,̶ ̸I̸ ̸f̷o̶u̵n̸d̸ ̷m̶y̴s̸e̸l̵f̸ ̶u̸t̶t̷e̴r̸i̶n̶g̸ ̴a̴ ̷n̷e̵w̵ ̴w̸o̷r̷d̷ ̸i̴n̷ ̵r̴e̴s̵p̵o̶n̸s̴e̵.̵ ̷”̸C̴u̷r̵s̸e̸d̸?̶”̸ ̴I̵ ̸f̵i̷n̶a̴l̵l̷y̶ ̷s̶a̷i̷d̴,̶ ̷c̵u̸t̴t̵i̵n̷g̷ ̴i̵n̶ ̸t̵h̷e̶ ̵s̷i̷l̵e̸n̸c̷e̴ ̸t̴h̴e̷ ̵s̷a̸m̴e̴ ̸w̶a̸y̶ ̶t̶h̷i̸s̵ ̸s̵t̸u̸n̴n̶i̴n̷g̸l̷y̸ ̵o̴m̸i̶n̵o̶u̶s̵ ̴w̸e̴a̸p̸o̵n̸ ̴h̶a̸d̷ ̴c̴u̷t̵ ̴t̵h̴r̷o̵u̴g̶h̷ ̵e̴x̴i̵s̴t̵e̶n̸c̶e̶ ̷i̸t̵s̵e̴l̸f̴ ̶t̴o̶ ̴b̴e̶ ̵i̶n̴ ̸m̷y̶ ̵p̶o̴s̵s̵e̸s̴s̴i̷o̷n̴.̷ ̵”̴H̵m̷m̷,̸ ̵s̶o̶ ̷t̵h̶e̸ ̷h̶a̵u̴n̸t̴e̴d̶ ̸p̵r̵i̸n̸c̴e̸s̸s̵ ̷k̴n̸o̸w̵s̸ ̷h̸e̸r̸ ̶b̶l̴a̶d̵e̸s̶?̷ ̶Y̶e̶s̷,̵ ̷m̴y̵ ̸l̶i̵t̵t̶l̸e̵ ̷s̴l̶a̴v̵e̶.̵ ̵T̵h̸a̶t̶ ̶i̶s̷ ̶t̶h̷e̶ ̴C̸h̵a̸o̴s̸ ̷B̵l̷a̴d̴e̸,̴ ̶s̴a̸i̸d̷ ̴t̸o̶ ̶h̷a̸v̷e̷ ̵b̷e̶e̵n̸ ̸m̷a̸d̶e̷ ̵f̴r̴o̷m̷ ̵t̸h̶e̷ ̷b̴l̸o̶o̷d̵ ̵o̴f̵ ̵i̸t̷'̸s̵ ̵c̶r̶e̷a̴t̵o̸r̸'̵s̶ ̵e̸n̵e̶m̵i̸e̷s̶.̶ ̷ ̷T̸a̸k̶e̴ ̵c̷a̷r̶e̵ ̴t̸o̸ ̷r̷e̴a̵l̷i̴z̷e̴ ̵i̵t̸'̴s̷ ̴v̷a̸l̶u̵e̴,̵ ̶f̶o̸r̴ ̵i̴t̵ ̶i̷s̷ ̸t̵h̴e̷ ̵m̸o̷s̵t̴ ̸f̷i̴t̵t̶i̴n̸g̸ ̶t̸o̶ ̷t̷a̸k̴e̵ ̷o̵n̷ ̵t̸h̴e̵ ̸t̴y̵p̵e̸s̵ ̵o̴f̵ ̴p̶e̷o̷p̸l̸e̷ ̷I̸ ̷h̶a̷v̷e̷ ̵f̴o̷r̷ ̸y̸o̷u̵.̵ ̵A̶s̴ ̸I̷ ̷s̵a̷i̸d̵ ̶e̸a̶r̸l̶i̶e̴r̶,̷ ̷I̷ ̴h̸a̷v̷e̴ ̷a̶ ̶m̶i̸s̴s̵i̶o̷n̷ ̴f̷o̷r̵ ̷y̴o̵u̸.̵”̶ ̴ ̶ ̶I̶ ̸s̸t̸u̶d̶i̶e̶d̶ ̸t̶h̶e̷ ̵b̶l̸a̴d̴e̵ ̸i̴n̷ ̴m̶y̶ ̷h̴a̷n̵d̴s̵,̵ ̵f̶r̴o̸m̸ ̴t̴h̸e̴ ̷o̵r̶n̶a̸t̵e̶ ̴t̴i̵p̸ ̵t̶o̸ ̵t̸h̸e̵ ̶d̵a̶r̵k̶e̴n̵e̸d̷ ̶b̶l̵o̷o̶d̴ ̷t̷h̴a̴t̶ ̵s̸e̵e̶m̴e̴d̷ ̵t̵o̵ ̸w̴r̵i̵t̷h̵e̸ ̶w̵i̸t̵h̶i̶n̶ ̵t̸h̴e̷ ̶i̴n̷n̶e̸r̴ ̶c̷o̸r̴e̴ ̴o̴f̶ ̵t̷h̷e̵ ̶w̴e̵a̶p̸o̶n̵.̸ ̴T̷r̵u̸l̶y̷,̵ ̵a̵ ̸m̵a̴s̶t̴e̴r̶w̷o̷r̵k̸ ̶o̶f̵ ̷f̶i̶n̵e̸ ̵b̸l̷a̵d̶e̵s̵m̵i̸t̶h̴i̶n̶g̴.̶ ̴I̶ ̸a̶d̵m̵i̸r̴e̶d̷ ̷a̷n̸d̷ ̴f̸e̵a̷r̶e̵d̶ ̷t̷h̷e̵ ̸o̵n̵i̸ ̸w̵h̵o̴ ̷m̴a̶d̷e̸ ̴i̴t̷.̷ ̷ ̴ ̵”̶Y̷o̸u̶r̵ ̷f̵i̶r̴s̷t̵ ̸m̸i̴s̷s̸i̷o̴n̷.̶.̸.̵”̸ ̶h̸i̶s̶ ̸v̴o̷i̶c̷e̸ ̵t̶r̴a̵i̸l̴e̶d̶ ̶o̷f̷f̸,̵ ̴a̵n̴d̷ ̸t̴r̴u̸t̴h̸f̴u̵l̷l̵y̶?̶ ̵ ̷I̵ ̵d̴o̵n̵'̶t̵ ̵r̵e̴m̵e̸m̷b̸e̵r̵ ̶w̷h̸o̴ ̵m̷y̸ ̶f̴i̴r̶s̵t̷ ̷s̵u̴c̸k̵e̸r̶ ̴w̷a̵s̸.̷ ̵I̸ ̵d̸o̷ ̷r̸e̵m̵e̸m̷b̴e̴r̶ ̵I̷ ̶e̵n̸j̶o̸y̸e̷d̸ ̷i̶t̶,̵ ̵a̸n̴d̷ ̴t̶h̷e̴ ̵s̴e̷n̸s̴e̸ ̴o̴f̴ ̵t̶h̷r̶i̴l̷l̷ ̴f̴r̷o̶m̸ ̸s̴e̷e̸i̵n̶g̴ ̵h̴i̶m̶ ̵b̶e̶a̵r̷ ̴w̷i̶t̸n̷e̸s̷s̷ ̴t̷o̸ ̴h̶i̸s̴ ̵l̶i̸f̶e̸ ̸d̴r̸a̴i̷n̵ ̴f̷r̸o̷m̴ ̶h̵i̷s̴ ̴e̷y̴e̶s̴ ̷w̶a̷s̵ ̸i̵n̷t̴o̴x̵i̸c̴a̸t̴i̵n̵g̴.̵ ̷ ̴ ̴B̵u̸t̷ ̷t̷h̶a̷t̶ ̸s̵t̴o̵r̸y̶,̷ ̵i̷s̸ ̶n̸o̸t̸ ̸t̵h̷e̵ ̷o̶n̶e̸ ̸I̷'̸v̴e̷ ̵b̶e̴e̵n̶ ̶a̸s̵k̶e̵d̷ ̷t̴o̷ ̷t̸e̵l̵l̶ ̶y̴o̸u̵.̴ ̴M̶i̸n̵e̷ ̴f̶o̸r̴ ̶t̸o̸n̴i̷g̴h̶t̶,̷ ̷i̴s̸ ̴t̵h̷e̸ ̷s̶t̴o̸r̷y̴ ̷o̵f̸ ̷a̷ ̶D̸e̴a̴d̴ ̴E̶v̷i̴l̶ ̴K̶a̵m̷i̸.̸ ̶ ̸I̶ ̷c̷o̶n̷t̸i̵n̶u̴e̷d̸ ̷o̸n̵w̵a̴r̷d̸s̴,̵ ̴r̷e̸a̸p̶i̷n̶g̷ ̵s̷o̷u̷l̵s̸ ̴a̵n̷d̶ ̴t̸e̶a̵r̵i̵n̷g̴ ̶t̸h̶e̵i̴r̸ ̸l̵i̶v̸e̴s̸ ̸a̸w̶a̷y̵ ̶l̸i̴k̶e̴ ̴s̷o̴ ̸m̴a̶n̵y̶ ̵n̵a̵m̷e̴s̵ ̴o̴n̷ ̶a̸ ̷l̷i̵s̴t̴.̸ ̴E̴v̵e̷n̵t̵u̸a̸l̵l̶y̶,̴ ̷I̴ ̷g̷r̴e̵w̴ ̸s̴t̴r̶o̷n̷g̴e̴r̸ ̶u̵n̴t̸i̸l̵ ̷f̴i̶n̴a̷l̵l̵y̷ ̶I̶ ̸w̴a̶s̵ ̴r̸e̴c̴o̸g̷n̵i̷z̵e̷d̵ ̷a̵n̶d̷ ̷t̵o̷l̸d̵ ̴w̸h̴a̷t̶ ̸h̷a̶d̶ ̸r̷e̸a̸l̴l̸y̶ ̴h̴a̴p̷p̶e̵n̴e̸d̵.̸ ̸T̴h̵i̸s̵ ̵K̶a̵m̸i̶,̴ ̵w̸a̵s̸ ̵m̸y̸ ̷f̷a̷t̴h̸e̷r̶'̵s̷ ̶k̸i̵l̴l̶e̸r̷.̷ ̵ ̷ ̶A̸t̶ ̸t̶h̵i̶s̵,̸ ̷I̴ ̶s̵e̴e̸t̷h̷e̸d̶ ̴w̶i̵t̴h̵ ̴a̸n̶g̶e̷r̴.̵ ̵I̴n̶ ̸t̶h̷a̶t̴ ̵f̶i̶r̶s̶t̸ ̵m̷o̴m̴e̴n̸t̵ ̸o̴f̵ ̶r̵e̶a̵l̵ ̵e̴m̵o̸t̷i̸o̸n̴,̸ ̸m̵y̷ ̵o̷w̴n̵e̷r̶.̵.̴.̸m̵y̵ ̸b̶o̵s̶s̴,̵ ̴s̸m̵i̵l̸e̸d̶.̶ ̴ ̵”̷E̶H̴E̶H̸E̶H̷E̵H̸E̸H̸H̵E̶H̴E̵H̴E̵H̶E̴H̷E̷H̴E̷H̸H̶E̸H̶E̷H̶E̸H̵E̴H̵E̶H̴E̶H̴H̸E̶H̸E̷H̵E̴H̶E̶H̵H̷E̴H̷E̸H̴E̴H̸E̵H̴H̴E̸H̸E̷H̶E̸H̵E̴H̷E̷H̷H̶E̵H̶E̵H̶E̴H̷H̶E̸H̴E̸H̷E̴H̶H̸E̶H̴E̵H̶H̴E̵H̸E̶H̷E̵H̷H̷E̴H̷E̶H̴E̴H̴H̷E̷H̵E̴H̶E̸H̴E̵H̷H̶E̴H̷E̴H̴E̸H̶E̴H̸H̶E̸H̸E̶H̷E̵H̷E̸H̷E̷H̴”̴ ̵h̴e̷ ̷c̵h̵o̶r̴t̷l̵e̷d̶,̴ ̵r̸e̷a̴d̴y̸i̷n̶g̷ ̸h̶i̷s̵ ̴w̸e̶a̶p̵o̴n̵.̸ ̶”̸A̴r̶e̵ ̵y̸o̸u̸ ̶r̸e̴a̷l̸l̵y̶ ̴s̶o̶ ̷s̸t̷u̵p̸i̴d̶ ̷a̷s̵ ̵t̷o̸ ̶n̸o̷t̴ ̸h̵a̵v̶e̵ ̸s̵u̷s̷p̶e̸c̵t̷e̴d̶ ̶m̷e̵,̵ ̵M̸i̷r̸a̶h̴i̸r̴u̶-̶c̷h̶a̶n̴?̸ ̶W̴h̶y̸ ̴e̵l̴s̷e̶ ̶w̴o̴u̷l̶d̴ ̶I̸ ̷w̸a̵n̴t̵ ̵a̶ ̸u̵s̶e̶d̵ ̶u̴p̸ ̸w̸h̶o̸r̶e̶ ̴l̶i̶k̶e̵ ̷y̷o̷u̸?̶ ̵Y̷e̶s̴,̵ ̴y̶o̷u̸ ̷k̴i̸l̷l̸e̴d̴ ̸v̴i̵l̸e̵ ̷p̸e̴o̶p̶l̷e̶,̴ ̴b̶u̴t̸ ̶t̸h̸e̷y̸ ̵w̷e̵r̸e̸ ̷o̴n̵ ̸m̶y̶ ̴s̷h̶i̷t̶-̶l̸i̷s̶t̴ ̸a̴n̸y̷w̵a̸y̵.̸”̸ ̷H̷e̷ ̴s̸p̸a̸t̵ ̶a̶t̸ ̶m̸e̵,̵ ̷n̷o̷t̵ ̶e̵x̷p̷e̶c̸t̸i̴n̶g̷ ̷m̴e̵ ̷t̵o̶ ̶d̴o̶ ̶w̸h̵a̷t̸ ̴I̵ ̶d̵i̸d̵ ̶n̷e̸x̵t̶.̷ ̷ ̵ ̸A̵f̴t̸e̸r̵ ̴t̸h̷e̵ ̴f̷e̸w̶ ̶y̷e̷a̴r̶s̸ ̷t̸h̸a̴t̵ ̵I̶'̸d̵ ̴s̷p̷e̷n̴t̴ ̴w̵o̶r̶k̴i̴n̶g̸ ̶u̴n̶d̸e̶r̴ ̶h̸i̴m̷,̴ ̴I̵'̸d̵ ̷l̶e̴a̶r̷n̵e̵d̸ ̴a̷ ̸f̶e̵w̶ ̶t̵h̷i̶n̸g̵s̵.̵ ̵ ̷”̷W̸-̷w̸h̴a̴t̶.̵.̸?̵”̸ ̸h̴e̶ ̸s̷a̵i̴d̴ ̵a̵s̸ ̶a̵ ̴t̴h̸i̴n̷ ̸v̴e̵i̷l̵ ̴o̵f̵ ̷w̷h̶i̵t̸e̴ ̵s̴u̷d̶d̴e̵n̴l̸y̶ ̷o̵v̷e̷r̷c̴a̶m̸e̸ ̴h̵i̴s̴ ̷v̴i̵s̷i̸o̷n̵ ̶a̴n̴d̸ ̵h̴e̵ ̶f̷e̷l̵l̵ ̴t̶o̶ ̴t̶h̴e̷ ̴g̵r̶o̷u̵n̶d̵.̷ ̸H̶e̴ ̶w̶a̴s̶ ̵t̷r̴a̸p̶p̸e̷d̶.̷ ̷I̸'̶d̷ ̸p̵l̸a̷c̵e̴d̵ ̴h̷i̸m̴ ̶i̸n̶ ̸t̷h̵a̶t̸ ̶m̶o̴s̸t̷ ̵f̴r̷i̵g̷h̷t̷f̷u̸l̷ ̷o̴f̴ ̵p̸r̶i̴s̵o̶n̷s̴.̵.̵.̴h̸i̴s̸ ̴m̷i̵n̶d̷.̵ ̷ ̷ ̸E̵v̷e̷r̶y̴o̶n̵e̷ ̵w̵a̵n̶t̵s̴ ̸t̴o̶ ̵r̵u̸n̵ ̷f̸r̸o̸m̶ ̶i̵t̴,̷ ̶e̴s̸p̸e̸c̴i̵a̴l̸l̸y̷ ̷i̵n̶ ̸m̶o̴m̶e̶n̶t̶s̷ ̴w̸h̵e̴r̶e̴ ̸t̶h̶e̷y̸ ̴f̷e̸e̶l̶ ̸l̷i̶k̵e̷ ̷t̷h̴e̵y̷ ̸d̸o̵n̴'̴t̷ ̷d̵e̸s̷e̶r̴v̴e̸ ̵w̷h̷a̷t̵ ̴t̴h̵e̷y̷ ̸h̸a̷v̷e̸ ̵c̵o̶m̶i̶n̵g̶.̶.̷.̶a̷n̸d̴ ̴i̸n̴ ̵t̷h̷i̴s̶ ̷m̴o̷m̷e̵n̴t̵,̸ ̵K̴a̷m̷i̶-̵s̸a̴n̵ ̶d̵i̴d̵ ̵n̴o̸t̷ ̷e̷x̴p̶e̶c̵t̸ ̶t̴h̷a̴t̷ ̴h̵e̷ ̶w̶o̶u̷l̴d̶ ̶b̷e̸ ̵m̴y̵ ̴f̶i̵n̴a̸l̷ ̵n̴a̵m̸e̵.̵ ̴ ̷ ̶”̴W̶-̷w̴h̸e̴r̸e̸ ̸a̸m̶ ̷I̵,̸ ̸y̷o̵u̷ ̴d̵e̶s̸p̷i̸c̶a̸b̴l̵e̵ ̷w̶e̷n̴c̵h̸?̵!̸”̸ ̸h̴e̷ ̶s̷c̷r̵e̵a̴m̸e̵d̴,̵ ̴h̴i̸s̴ ̷v̸o̶c̷a̶l̸ ̵c̴o̵r̷d̶s̶ ̷m̸e̴l̸t̸i̴n̸g̴ ̸a̷s̵ ̷I̵ ̴p̸u̵t̴ ̵t̵h̶e̴m̴ ̷t̶o̷ ̶t̴h̵e̷ ̷f̴l̶a̷m̵e̶.̷ ̴H̸e̵ ̵s̶c̷r̷e̴a̸m̸e̷d̵,̴ ̶s̷h̷o̴u̵t̵i̸n̵g̴ ̶f̸o̸r̶ ̸a̸ ̵h̴o̴p̸e̷ ̶t̴h̴a̷t̸ ̸w̸o̶u̴l̶d̷ ̵n̶o̷t̶ ̷b̷e̶ ̵c̵o̸m̸i̵n̸g̴ ̵a̸s̶ ̶I̴ ̷s̸l̷i̶c̵e̵d̶ ̷t̶h̷r̷o̴u̷g̵h̶ ̶h̵i̷s̸ ̵a̸b̵d̶o̶m̸e̵n̸ ̴a̶n̴d̸ ̷p̵l̷u̷c̵k̵e̸d̶ ̴h̷i̶s̵ ̴o̵r̵g̸a̶n̸s̷ ̴a̸n̶d̷ ̵s̷h̷o̸w̵e̶d̴ ̵t̶h̵e̶m̶ ̶t̶o̵ ̸h̴i̷m̶.̶ ̴”̷H̶m̵m̴,̶ ̵s̷o̸ ̷e̶v̴e̸n̸ ̸G̸o̵d̵s̴ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̵ ̷i̵n̶n̸a̷r̶d̶s̶?̷ ̵I̴n̶t̷e̸r̴e̷s̷t̵i̸n̴g̶.̶”̵ ̴I̵ ̵s̴m̵i̶r̸k̴e̵d̶,̵ ̵l̵i̸c̸k̶i̵n̵g̷ ̸h̵i̶s̵ ̵i̵n̸t̸e̵s̴t̵i̸n̷e̸s̸ ̴a̶n̸d̴ ̵m̸e̴o̸w̶i̵n̶g̵ ̵m̴o̶c̶k̸i̷n̴g̵l̴y̴.̵ ̸”̵F̷U̶C̵K̸ ̴Y̴O̴U̷!̶”̸ ̵h̴e̵ ̷t̵r̵i̴e̸d̵ ̶t̸o̷ ̸s̴c̶r̵e̶a̶m̴ ̸w̶i̴t̶h̴ ̷w̴h̴a̴t̶ ̸r̴e̸m̴a̶i̵n̷e̵d̷ ̷o̶f̴ ̴h̶i̸s̴ ̵v̷o̵i̵c̸e̷.̸ ̶T̸r̸u̴t̴h̷f̶u̸l̵l̸y̷,̴ ̷t̸h̷e̶ ̸r̷e̸a̸s̴o̶n̴ ̷K̴a̴m̶i̵-̴s̴a̸n̷ ̵c̷o̶u̴l̵d̷ ̴s̴p̸e̸a̶k̵ ̵i̴s̷ ̵t̷h̵a̸t̶ ̴w̵e̷ ̴w̶e̵r̷e̵ ̶s̴i̶m̴p̸l̷y̸ ̷i̸n̶ ̸h̸i̷s̴ ̴m̶i̷n̵d̵.̴ ̸P̸e̵o̶p̷l̶e̸ ̷a̶r̸e̵ ̴s̸c̶a̴r̵i̷e̸s̷t̴ ̶w̵h̴e̴n̷ ̶e̸x̶p̴o̸s̶e̷d̴ ̴t̵o̶ ̶t̷h̴e̸i̵r̵ ̷t̶r̵u̴e̴ ̸s̸e̸l̶v̷e̷s̸.̶ ̴ ̷ ̶”̸S̶o̸,̴ ̷I̸ ̴r̸e̴g̷r̸e̸t̸ ̴t̶o̵ ̸i̵n̵f̵o̷r̴m̶ ̴y̴o̴u̷ ̴t̸h̴a̶t̴ ̴I̵'̵m̸ ̶n̸o̶t̵ ̵i̵n̵t̵o̶ ̵d̷e̵a̵d̵ ̸m̸e̵n̸.̸ ̸S̵o̴ ̴n̴o̵,̸ ̶y̶o̴u̸ ̵w̸i̵l̸l̷ ̵n̷o̶t̵ ̸b̶e̷ ̷f̷u̴c̸k̵i̴n̶g̵ ̶m̴e̶.̵ ̸F̸u̸r̴t̶h̶e̵r̸,̵ ̸K̴a̴m̵i̷-̸t̶a̷n̵.̷.̴.̴y̸o̷u̵ ̴c̸h̷o̶s̸e̸ ̷t̶h̷e̷ ̷w̶r̶o̷n̸g̸ ̷g̴i̵r̶l̸ ̵t̷o̸ ̸f̶u̴c̶k̸ ̸w̶i̵t̵h̶.̷”̶ ̵I̷ ̵s̷a̷i̸d̶,̷ ̸s̵m̷i̶l̸i̷n̴g̷ ̵i̸n̸ ̶a̸ ̵c̵r̸a̵z̶e̶d̶ ̷m̸a̵n̴n̶e̵r̸.̸ ̶I̵ ̷h̸a̴d̶ ̵f̶i̷n̸a̸l̵l̸y̶ ̶d̷o̷n̸e̷ ̶i̵t̸,̴ ̴a̸f̷t̶e̶r̵ ̶b̵e̵i̸n̷g̷ ̸f̴o̴r̵c̴e̸d̴ ̸t̸o̵ ̵b̴r̴i̶n̷g̸ ̸d̸o̴w̶n̸ ̸t̵e̴r̵r̶i̸b̴l̴e̵ ̶m̶e̴n̴ ̴a̸n̴d̸ ̷r̴e̴a̷p̶i̵n̸g̶ ̴t̶h̵e̷i̸r̵ ̶s̸o̷u̶l̵s̴ ̷I̸ ̷h̷a̷d̶ ̵r̵e̶v̸e̸n̶g̴e̸.̸ ̴I̵ ̵h̸a̵d̶ ̴m̶y̵ ̸w̶i̸l̷l̶ ̶b̸a̵c̴k̷.̶ ̷”̵L̴I̴S̴T̴E̶N̴ ̴T̸O̸ ̴Y̷O̴U̷R̸ ̴M̸A̷S̶T̸E̵R̸,̵ ̵Y̷O̴U̶ ̵F̴U̵C̵K̵I̷N̵G̷ ̷I̷N̴G̴R̷A̶-̵”̷ ̵H̴e̷ ̶b̵e̴g̶a̵n̸ ̴t̵o̸ ̵r̴e̷t̶o̶r̴t̷,̶ ̴a̸s̴ ̸I̴ ̷h̴a̵d̶ ̵m̵y̷ ̴f̴i̸l̴l̸ ̸o̸f̷ ̶h̴i̷s̴ ̴b̸u̷l̵l̶s̵h̶i̴t̸.̴ ̶”̷.̶.̶.̷.̶C̴a̶n̵ ̵y̶o̷u̴ ̶r̵e̵a̸l̴l̶y̶ ̷c̸a̴l̴l̵ ̷y̸o̶u̷r̷s̸e̶l̷f̴ ̶a̴ ̴M̴a̸s̴t̶e̶r̶ ̶i̸f̴ ̴y̵o̷u̵'̶r̶e̵ ̴a̴l̷r̴e̷a̸d̴y̶ ̷i̶n̷ ̷p̸i̴e̵c̶e̵s̶?̶”̶ ̷I̴ ̸s̵a̸i̵d̸,̶ ̷s̸m̸i̵l̶i̵n̴g̷ ̶a̸n̴d̸ ̴l̸i̶c̶k̷i̸n̶g̸ ̶t̴h̷e̷ ̵b̷o̷t̸t̷o̵m̴ ̸h̸a̵l̸f̵ ̷o̸f̶ ̵h̴i̷s̴ ̴b̸o̵d̷y̷,̷ ̴l̷i̸f̵t̸i̴n̵g̷ ̶i̸t̴ ̴u̵p̸ ̵t̵o̸ ̷t̶o̵p̸ ̶h̸a̸l̴f̶,̷ ̴c̸a̸c̸k̸l̶i̸n̵g̷.̶ ̸”̸W̸-̴w̶h̵a̵t̸.̶.̴.̶w̴-̸w̵h̶o̶ ̷a̵r̷e̵ ̷y̶o̴u̶?̸”̸ ̶H̷e̵ ̷s̷a̴i̷d̵,̴ ̵h̸i̵s̶ ̶s̸a̷n̴i̶t̷y̴ ̶b̷r̶e̴a̴k̶i̷n̵g̶ ̶a̴s̶ ̸I̶ ̵l̸e̸t̶ ̷g̶o̸ ̸o̸f̶ ̸t̷h̷e̴ ̸h̶o̸l̵d̵ ̵I̷ ̸h̷a̵d̶ ̵o̵n̴ ̸h̸i̸s̴ ̸s̶k̶u̵l̸l̷ ̶w̴i̷t̵h̶i̸n̸ ̴t̶h̸e̴ ̵w̷o̴r̷l̷d̴ ̶o̵f̷ ̷S̵o̷u̷l̷s̸,̴ ̸o̷u̴r̶ ̴w̸o̵r̸l̷d̵.̴ ̷ ̷ ̵H̵i̷s̶ ̶w̴i̶l̸l̸ ̸b̶r̸o̶k̸e̸n̶,̸ ̷a̶n̷d̶ ̴h̷i̴s̴ ̶s̴o̴u̴l̷ ̶b̶e̶g̶i̶n̸n̵i̵n̵g̶ ̵t̵o̴ ̵d̸e̵t̶a̴c̴h̴,̸ ̴I̷ ̴g̷r̶a̴s̷p̴e̶d̴ ̴f̴i̶r̸m̷l̶y̷ ̴u̸p̴o̴n̴ ̴t̶h̷e̶ ̸s̶t̶r̴i̷n̷g̶ ̸o̷n̴e̸ ̷w̴o̵u̴l̵d̶ ̷c̴a̸l̸l̶ ̷t̸h̸e̴ ̵s̷o̸u̸l̵ ̶a̸n̷d̸ ̶p̶u̷l̵l̷e̸d̸.̷ ̴H̵e̴ ̴w̵a̷s̶ ̴d̷e̶a̵d̶ ̸t̴o̸ ̴r̵i̸t̴e̷s̷.̷ ̷I̶t̸ ̶h̵a̴d̷ ̴b̶e̸e̸n̸ ̸e̶a̵s̴y̵,̴ ̴a̵l̶m̴o̶s̶t̷ ̵c̶h̵i̷l̶d̵'̷s̵ ̸p̵l̴a̵y̴.̷ ̷H̸o̵w̵e̷v̷e̴r̵,̵ ̵t̶h̶e̸ ̸s̶t̵r̷i̴n̸g̷ ̶b̵u̸r̷n̸e̶d̸ ̴m̸y̷ ̸h̷a̸n̴d̸ ̴a̴n̴d̶ ̷u̸p̷o̷n̸ ̴t̴h̵e̴ ̵a̵i̵r̶ ̷I̵ ̴h̷e̴a̶r̷d̸ ̶h̸i̸s̷ ̷l̴a̶s̶t̵ ̵c̵u̷r̶s̴e̵.̵ ̶”̶Y̷o̵U̶ ̵s̴H̵a̷L̶l̸ ̵n̴e̷v̴e̵r̷ ̷r̸e̸s̶t̶,̵ ̸y̶o̸u̷ ̴w̴h̴o̷r̷e̸.̸ ̴I̷ ̷d̵e̸e̷m̷ ̵t̵h̵e̸e̷ ̶m̵y̴ ̴s̴u̴c̴c̸e̷s̸s̷o̸r̵,̸ ̶T̵h̶e̸ ̵Q̶u̵e̸e̴n̶ ̷o̸f̴ ̶t̶h̷e̴ ̴L̶a̴n̵d̷ ̷o̸f̶ ̸S̶o̷u̶l̵s̷.̶ ̷B̴e̴ ̸y̵o̶u̵ ̴c̴u̶r̸s̸e̵d̷ ̶t̷o̸ ̴b̴e̸ ̷a̸l̷o̷n̸e̷ ̸a̵n̶d̶ ̴h̴a̷v̴e̴ ̶n̵o̸ ̴l̷o̴v̸e̷ ̵i̷n̵ ̶t̴h̵i̷s̴ ̴w̷o̸r̸l̶d̵.̶”̷ ̷I̶ ̸s̸p̶a̶t̴ ̴o̵n̷ ̵h̸i̷s̶ ̸d̷i̵s̵s̷o̵l̵v̵i̵n̶g̴ ̷c̴o̷r̸p̷s̶e̷ ̵a̶n̸d̵ ̴s̴t̷o̸o̴d̶ ̵u̵p̷.̵ ̸”̷Q̶u̷e̴e̴n̴ ̵o̵f̴ ̵C̸h̴a̷o̵s̷,̶ ̴h̴u̶h̸?̶ ̷I̶ ̵c̷o̷u̸l̴d̶ ̵g̸e̷t̵ ̴u̷s̵e̵d̵ ̸t̴o̶ ̵t̷-̸”̶ ̴s̸u̴d̴d̴e̸n̸l̸y̷,̶ ̸I̶ ̵h̶e̵a̷r̴d̵ ̷a̷ ̴c̷r̸y̶.̴ ̶A̸n̷ ̸i̵n̸n̸e̷r̴ ̶h̵e̷a̷r̶d̴ ̵a̵c̴r̵o̷s̶s̶ ̴t̸h̴e̴ ̴v̷a̸l̶e̴,̴ ̴”̶O̶h̵ ̴w̵h̵a̸t̶e̶v̷e̶r̸ ̵g̷o̸d̶ ̸t̷h̶e̵r̶e̷ ̴i̷s̵ ̶i̷n̶ ̶t̸h̴i̷s̷ ̸f̴u̶c̷k̴i̴n̵g̴ ̵u̴n̶i̶v̸e̸r̴s̶e̶,̷ ̷c̵o̶m̵e̸ ̸t̷o̷ ̷m̸e̶.̷”̷ ̸I̷t̵ ̴w̷a̶s̸ ̷m̶a̸s̵c̵u̷l̵i̵n̵e̵,̷ ̸b̶u̸t̸ ̵h̶a̶d̸ ̵t̸i̴n̵g̵e̷s̵ ̶o̷f̶ ̴a̷n̶ ̵i̵n̷n̸e̵r̴ ̷f̸r̷a̸g̴i̸l̴i̶t̴y̸.̶ ̸”̷H̸m̴m̴,̷ ̷I̵'̸l̷l̴ ̴n̷o̷t̵ ̵s̵e̵r̵v̵e̶ ̶a̷n̴o̵t̵h̶e̸r̸ ̸m̷a̷-̴”̸ ̶”̶I̷'̵l̸l̶ ̴s̸e̸r̴v̷e̷ ̴t̶h̶a̸t̷ ̷g̷o̴d̸ ̶f̴o̶r̴ ̴a̴s̵ ̴l̵o̶n̵g̸ ̷a̷s̴ ̶I̵ ̷c̴o̸n̷t̶i̷n̶u̵e̸ ̵t̴o̶ ̷d̵r̷a̶w̴ ̴b̸r̸e̷a̵t̷h̴,̴ ̸j̴u̵s̵t̸ ̶p̵l̸e̶a̸s̴e̷ ̸h̶e̵l̷p̷ ̶m̶e̵.̸”̷ ̷I̴ ̶g̶r̸i̷n̷n̵e̶d̴ ̸a̴t̷ ̸t̴h̷i̸s̵.̸ ̴I̵ ̶h̴a̶d̶ ̵b̸r̷o̴k̶e̴n̵ ̸K̸a̸m̷i̴'̶s̶ ̷C̵u̷r̷s̴e̵.̵ ̷I̷'̴d̷ ̸f̶o̶u̵n̷d̵ ̵t̵h̸e̶ ̶o̸n̴e̵ ̶t̸h̵i̶n̴g̷ ̷I̵ ̷l̷o̷v̸e̴d̶ ̴m̶o̴r̸e̵ ̶t̷h̵a̵n̶ ̸a̴n̶y̵t̵h̵i̶n̴g̶ ̷i̷n̷ ̵t̴h̸i̶s̷ ̶p̷a̴i̷n̵f̷u̴l̵ ̸l̵i̴f̵e̴ ̵-̶ ̷a̵ ̴b̵o̴y̸ ̷w̷h̶o̵ ̸n̷e̶e̴d̴s̶ ̶t̷o̸ ̵c̷r̸y̴.̸ ̸ ̵ ̷T̸h̵e̴ ̷r̶e̵s̶t̸.̸.̸.̸a̸s̶ ̷t̶h̴e̷y̶ ̴s̸a̷y̶,̶ ̶i̵s̵ ̶h̵i̷s̶t̶o̶r̶y̵.̸ ̴I̷ ̷h̵a̶d̸ ̷f̵o̵u̵n̸d̸ ̷m̶y̴ ̸n̷e̶w̷ ̵s̵l̵a̵v̴e̶,̷ ̶m̴y̷.̵.̷.̷D̴a̸r̶l̴i̷n̴g̶.̴ ̸~̷<̵3̶
[Corruption mitigated, producing Secondary Copy]///////////complete
Kami-san was not a nice man.
Well, to be fair Kami-san wasn't a man. Kami-san was my boss, my re-animator. But who he really was, was an evil God.
“Little lost one, I will restore your patchwork self if you do but one thing for me,” he began as he whispered darkly, a sinister voice coated in the honeyed blood of a million lost souls. “I want you, to bring me the reformed souls of the most vile. Your task is not easy, but in exchange I shall give you the power to truly wreck their very beings. Will you do it, dearest departed Kitten?” Here he made sure to accentuate his silent taunt of the cobbled pieces of what was once my form. I hated it, but what choice did I have?
”...It's funny, it's almost as if I have choice.” I garbled, my lips having been ripped from my face but mere moments ago. He nodded at the sight. To him, it must have been hilarious. A proud woman, as I had been, now forced to only stare up at the dark hooded visage of a man above me. “I'll take that as a 'Yes mister Kami, I'll be a good girl',” he replied snidely, and continued to speak as he reassembled my shredded remains. “Now, my patchwork princess, rude as you may be – I will overlook it for now. Right now, I have some work for a wretch such as you.” he smiled, now able to see me at my full height.
“Princess, huh?” I said, somehow smiling as if to laugh at the absurdity of this new contract. Here, I thought in death I could finally rest my obligations and let loose but here I was...under a new man. Though, being one trained in combat, I knew all too well I would be used as a weapon in this world and the next.
“Yes, now before you get all high and mighty let's get you a weapon.” As he finished this statement, in the next breath a long, katana shaped shadow seemed to cut through time and space and appeared in his hands. I knew the form immediately, but somehow this blade seemed different. Taking it in my hands, I found myself uttering a new word in response. “Cursed?” I finally said, cutting in the silence the same way this stunningly ominous weapon had cut through existence itself to be in my possession. “Hmm, so the haunted princess knows her blades? Yes, my little slave. That is the Chaos Blade, said to have been made from the blood of it's creator's enemies. Take care to realize it's value, for it is the most fitting to take on the types of people I have for you. As I said earlier, I have a mission for you.”
I studied the blade in my hands, from the ornate tip to the darkened blood that seemed to writhe within the inner core of the weapon. Truly, a masterwork of fine bladesmithing. I admired and feared the oni who made it.
“Your first mission...” his voice trailed off, and truthfully? I don't remember who my first sucker was. I do remember I enjoyed it, and the sense of thrill from seeing him bear witness to his life drain from his eyes was intoxicating.
But that story, is not the one I've been asked to tell you. Mine for tonight, is the story of a Dead Evil Kami.
I continued onwards, reaping souls and tearing their lives away like so many names on a list. Eventually, I grew stronger until finally I was recognized and told what had really happened. This Kami, was my father's killer.
At this, I seethed with anger. In that first moment of real emotion, my owner...my boss, smiled. “EHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEH” he chortled, readying his weapon. “Are you really so stupid as to not have suspected me, Mirahiru-chan? Why else would I want a used up whore like you? Yes, you killed vile people, but they were on my shit-list anyway.” He spat at me, not expecting me to do what I did next.
After the few years that I'd spent working under him, I'd learned a few things. “W-what..?” he said as a thin veil of white suddenly overcame his vision and he fell to the ground. He was trapped. I'd placed him in that most frightful of prisons...his mind.
Everyone wants to run from it, especially in moments where they feel like they don't deserve what they have coming...and in this moment, Kami-san did not expect that he would be my final name.
“W-where am I, you despicable wench?!” he screamed, his vocal cords melting as I put them to the flame. He screamed, shouting for a hope that would not be coming as I sliced through his abdomen and plucked his organs and showed them to him. “Hmm, so even Gods have innards? Interesting.” I smirked, licking his intestines and meowing mockingly. “FUCK YOU!” he tried to scream with what remained of his voice. Truthfully, the reason Kami-san could speak is that we were simply in his mind. People are scariest when exposed to their true selves.
“So, I regret to inform you that I'm not into dead men. So no, you will not be fucking me. Further, Kami-tan...you chose the wrong girl to fuck with.” I said, smiling in a crazed manner. I had finally done it, after being forced to bring down terrible men and reaping their souls I had revenge. I had my will back. “LISTEN TO YOUR MASTER, YOU FUCKING INGRA-” He began to retort, as I had my fill of his bullshit. “....Can you really call yourself a Master if you're already in pieces?” I said, smiling and licking the bottom half of his body, lifting it up to top half, cackling. “W-what...w-who are you?” He said, his sanity breaking as I let go of the hold I had on his skull within the world of Souls, our world.
His will broken, and his soul beginning to detach, I grasped firmly upon the string one would call the soul and pulled. He was dead to rites. It had been easy, almost child's play. However, the string burned my hand and upon the air I heard his last curse. “YoU sHaLl never rest, you whore. I deem thee my successor, The Queen of the Land of Souls. Be you cursed to be alone and have no love in this world.” I spat on his dissolving corpse and stood up. “Queen of Chaos, huh? I could get used to t-” suddenly, I heard a cry. An inner heard across the vale, “Oh whatever god there is in this fucking universe, come to me.” It was masculine, but had tinges of an inner fragility. “Hmm, I'll not serve another ma-” “I'll serve that god for as long as I continue to draw breath, just please help me.” I grinned at this. I had broken Kami's Curse. I'd found the one thing I loved more than anything in this painful life – a boy who needs to cry.
The rest...as they say, is history. I had found my new slave, my...Darling. ~<3
////////////Entry completed\////////////////////////////
[-Report 11 completed.–]
[-Thank you for reading our return to form, we apologize if this report is corrupted or lackluster. The Director, his wife, and the Archive have had delays due to the Human Coronavirus. Not to The Director's Director of course, but The Archivist and The Director have had issues until recently. Regardless, thank you for reading. –]