"His condition? Um- I mean- What condition? He's only got healing Achilles tendons," the nurse stammered. "If you're this worried, I'll send someone to go check on him."
Azrail lowered his hand to the sight of some sparks of black lightning flickered and disappeared into the electronic lock on the door. It had been short-circuited in the locked position. He rolled his wheelchair over to the other side of the bed and leaned over, pulling the battered remains of his weapon from under the bed. "It's time you and I finish this old friend," he sighed as he unfolded the crumpled frame and pulled the chain and spear points from the weapon's mechanics. He noticed his hands had stilled as soon as Kale left the room, and that that was the only reason he could do what he was going to at all. Azrail began tying the chain links into an all-too-familiar loop that would have made his intentions clear to any other observers, had there been any. He calmly lifted himself from the chair to the bed and from the bed, with great difficulty, to a standing position. It was painful, and he obviously shouldn't have been doing this if he wanted his legs to heal, but he had all but given up on that possibility. He secured the chain to the ceiling by one of the serrated edges and placed the loop over his head. Suddenly the fire which had been smoldering in Azrail's eyes for the last few days grew to a burning flame. His arms thrashed, as did his legs, but he refused to let the monster he was loose, and with his last bit of willpower flung himself from the bed. the chains clinked and tightened and Azrail was no more.
The only bit of Azrail's story left to tell was a letter in an Envelope possessed by Kale Bomvu. Said letter reads as follows:
Dear _______
I have left the name section blank simply because I don't know who this letter will be given to once it is completed, so please imagine your own name there. If you are reading this, then I am most likely dead. This may come as some surprise to you, and you might want to blame yourself, but let me explain myself first. I am not doing this because I am depressed or otherwise dissatisfied with life. I would have liked to live quite a bit longer, but this is a necessary step if I want to claim that I value others above myself.
You see, I've been fighting a battle within my head for a very long time now. I have an inexplicable compulsive need to kill, and normally I can satiate this with doing my job as a huntsman and killing grimm. You may notice, however, that killing grimm is not an option for hospitalized patients. I have not been able to satisfy this need for a couple weeks now, and it has taken every bit of willpower I possess to keep from killing the doctors and nurses who only want to help me. You must understand that I could not tell anyone, for if I did, I would be locked up and shut away in a mental institution. That's no way to live, so to protect those around me, I chose death instead. I went out as best I could considering my problem, so do not be sad that my life was short. Undoubtedly there was a worse fate awaiting me further down the line. I don't have anything of value to leave for anyone in a will, nor do I have any family to grieve for me, so dispose of my body however you please; it's more for your peace of mind than anything at this point. With best wishes for the reader from whatever lies beyond,
Azrail Duivel Kind
(Yes, this was planned. No, this is not a "metagame to a happy ending and make the drama meaningless" situation, and you shouldn't try to undo what just happened. No, this does not mean I am suicidal in real life. I'm sorry I had to involve you in this, but Azrail's character arc needed to be completed.)
Topic: Torturous Aftermath [Open] (Read 10022 times)