“The knife belongs to me!” The pale-haired woman wailed incessantly as she tore her nails through her own rotting flesh and twitched insufferably under the intolerant gaze that held her with contempt.

The rusted, sharp chains fastened around her neck, wrists, and ankles jangled with their resounding plea as her faded, beige brown pupils shook tremulously with distinctive cracks, outlined in neurotic streaks of blackish-red, lining against her damaged scleras. An utterly pallid countenance sallowed in color went about shrieking their right to the bloodied weapon that rested serenely in the hands of the neon-green eyed tyrant a few feet away.

He watched impassively as the deranged woman dug through the muscle lining of her arms and carelessly threw her featherless weight against the ground, at an attempt to seize him, before flicking his enervated gaze, that much contrasted the sharp vitality displayed, towards the presence of a black-hooded silhouette enshrouded in anonymity and awaiting its indicative command. The hushed stillness perpetuated the indirect desire to smother the vigorous sounds of resistance and trepidation, which erupted from the lips of the subjugated victim tearing themselves apart at his feet and drowning the soiled ground with irrevocable memories, as the suffocating atmosphere wrote out the foreseen, yet unprecedented beginning of a heinous arrival….

“Alphonse…” the insouciant voice whispered lowly into the formulating black mass that circled around the incapacitated woman as Alphonse felt it’s disconcerting presence veil him in an recognized, tangible state of illustrated atrocities.

An odious command… An iniquitous reality that yearned for utter extirpation… One that burned his soul and sealed him in the leisure and whims of a blasé eternity…

Alphonse shut his bleak, yet hollowed eyes in response to the clandestine wish anchored into his soul, and formed a thin-line across his ashen lips that seemingly drained any contrasting emanation from his bloodless countenance. His downcast expression held undeniable veneration and subservience to the egregious presence as he drew the sharpened, obsidian-black-blade to his side and opened his virulent slit-eyed gaze to narrow at the maddened woman that bled profusely into the frigid, spacious environment. The shadowed somnolence that dampened his gaze prior hid unobtrusively behind the noxious glare, refulgent in a riotous manner, with an intensity that revitalized his deadened state of being.

Expeditiously, the child’s presence appeared behind the distressed woman, and with a swift movement to the right, he sliced through her neck. The sounds of torn flesh ripping apart by the will of the blade sent shivers of an unidentified sensation down his spine as he plunged the scathing knife deeper into her neck with a loud CRACK accompanying after. Alphonse listened to the agonized screams of anguish and horror, watching black-red shades of blood flush into her inconsolable gaze, until it died down into a gurgled, incomprehensible mess and her body laid limp in his smothering hold.

He watched as ominous dark vein-like streaks deriving from the blade wrapped around her deceased frame before silently observing the way the gnarly, ink-black phenomena bulged against the skin’s lacerated and slashed surface. It appeared to be constricting and stiffening the barren corpse internally as if it were wrestling to burst out from underneath, whilst the corpse’s ill-appearing complexion gradually befell a grave and unbecoming blackened coloration.

It was finished.

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