Monster


They call me insane; I call them illogical. They call me merciless; I call them clueless. They call me a monster, but I have yet to show them what a monster really is. My weapons in this feat would be simple: a mirror.

If only such a tainted humanity could see their actions as if in a mirror. If only they would realize, like I have, how disgusting and ultimately doomed they really are.

They say I am a murderer, but I only shed tainted blood, while they sap the innocent life from those who have committed no crimes. Who is the worse of us, truly?

It is them.

Irrational, contradictory, animalistic...

They call me a nightmare, but I bring them innocence in death. I bring them silent dreams. The humans know nothing. They see nothing other than what they want to believe. That is why they must die. Perfection cannot exist when marred by these tumors called humans. It is ironic that the word "human" is associated with compassion and care. If you were to ask one of those spiders why they impulsively gave a gift of kindness, they would reply that it is because they are human.

The phrase in itself is a contradiction. It makes me laugh.

"Does it hurt, spider?"

A soft gasp of air, a muffled sob and the drop of pleading tears on the floor. "Please...Please don't kill me."

The light of reflecting flames plays over the tears in her eyes, and I look upon the spider. My dear brother calls her Meryl. Her black hair is symbolic of the taint of her race, and her eyes... I wonder if they look like the amethyst Rem told us about. One day I'll find out, because I will have cleaned the world of the pathetic species called humanity. "No. I think I will kill you."

I manipulate the blades I bind her with. One is jammed into the wall under her suspended feet, with several others binding bunches of her clothing to the wall. A blade hovers by her neck, independent of my body but bound to my will.

Instead of slicing her neck, I make the blade rise. I mentally alter its texture, and through my will, the lights in the room grow brighter.

"Look," I demand, as her tear-stained face reflects in the blade. "Tell me what you see."

Her voice shakes as tears roll down her face. "I see...I see me."

"Hopeless."

In anger, I move the blade and swipe it across her throat in one quick movement.

Disgusting. If only there was a less messy way to do this.

There were once many bodies here. None of them had seen a monster when they looked into my mirror. They only saw themselves.

My eyes wander to the corner of the room, and I whisper a silent apology. I have plans that I will put into effect soon, and so I would rather not use my own energy to dispose of these insects. I desired to save my powers for something on a much larger scale. My conclusion to this problem was simple. I'd use Vash's. His powers really are almost limitless, so it doesn't matter. He couldn't stand watching what I did, imprisoned, unable to help, so I gave him rest, and all I took in return was his assistance. Fortunately, his mind led me to those parasites he'd stayed with for so long. Millie. Meryl.

Those two had only seen themselves in the mirror. Now they were gone. I look over to my brother, strapped to a table in the darkest corner of the room. "Soon, things will be different. It will just be the two of us. You'll see."

I lean down and pick up the blade, moving my fingers over the polished surface. I lift it just far enough to see the reflection of my pursed mouth, but then I drop it again.

It isn't that I don't want to look into the mirror. I just don't have time for such useless games.

I am what I am.

A thought creeps into my mind, and I push it away. Probably Vash's thoughts again, breaking into my conscious mind.

Even though supressed, the thought remains.

I am what I am...but what am I?


Author's Notes: Okay, just another random oneshot, this one told from Knives' first person perspective, in a sort of stream of consciousness way. I guess it's sort of wacky and definitely not what I hope happens in the series, but I couldn't help it. Hope it makes a bit of sense. I love reviews and hug them and call them George. Criticism is always welcome. Thanks for reading!