It was something so simple, so integrated into my system, that I actually had to pay conscious attention to myself before I realized that I was out of breath. It didn't feel like it. After all, I am detached.

Before my lay this monster. This Eldritch Abomination who took my closest friend away. Gripping my blade tighter, I lunged forward. I couldn't feel anything when its tentacles grazed my skin. I couldn't feel anything when it grabbed me and slammed me onto the wall. I couldn't even feel when one of those tendrils wrapped around my leg and started dragging me.

But I wasn't willing to let it win. Not one bit.

I smashed the handle of my sword, directly hitting the offending tentacle. With each smash stronger than the last, I felt its grip weaken, but never actually let go. Rather than repeat that stupidity, I wanted my results. I NEEDED my results, now. I smashed the steel edge itself onto my leg and practically cut off a chunk. It pulled away and writhed in unfamilliar pain.

With a gash on my leg now, I stood up. It's not that I couldn't afford to feel weak, rather, I couldn't even feel at all anymore. All that was important to me was to see that demon's demise. I let my legs carry me to sweet heaven once more, and did what I could to close the gap. I slashed and tore through everything it threw at me, from tendrils to vines to all sorts of boulders around it.

When I was close enough, I jumped and landed my blade squarely on it, feeling a sweet spot rupture. The monster writhed in pain. I could smell the panic in the air as I pulled my sword back and reeled in for another smash.

This is for the pain I've felt.

This is for the pain I've grown accustomed to.

This is for the pain I no longer feel.

This is for Cammie.


Believe me, it tried to stop me. It really did. But when you cross someone like me, there's no atonement left for you. I wasn't even slashing it. I didn't try to slice through the monstrosity in half. I literally smashed my weapon over it over and over. With every smash, I felt surges of pleasure wash over me, and I couldn't help but smile. So I did.

It tried to grapple me with that poor excuse for a quartet of arms, but I couldn't care less. It couldn't even overpower me at this state. I would alternate between beating it down and slashing away the little grabbers, staining this moonlit field with a contrasting deep crimson.

With another smash on its head, I felt it grow limp. The tentacles fell to the ground, as with the beast. I know it wasn't dead yet, just fainted. I couldn't help myself from finishing off. It's just so satisfying to feel the impact of my weapon on this thing. With every crash, blood started to spurt out, staining my clothing and my blade.

I feel so sorry for the Cicadas. And the birds. And the grass, softly illuminated by the moonlight. I'm so sorry that they had to witness this...On second thought, fuck that. I'm not sorry at all. Each smash conveyed that hidden meaning. I didn't give a fuck whether the world around me was judging me. This is what you get for taking away valuable things from me.

A pained grown filled the air, and the monster, in one final attempt, grabbed me on all fours. Foolish. It wasn't even capable enough to lift me up when I was demolishing it. I felt a cruel, unadulterated laugh break its way from the depths of my lungs. I started laughing like a madman before lunging the blunted tip of my blade down on its crown, piercing the protective covering and the flesh beneath it. It attempted to carry me once more, but failed. Its arms plopped down with an audible crash.

They say the human brain, even after your heart stops, has 7 minutes left, where it replays your entire life right before your eyes. This thing, stronger than a human, has perhaps even more than 7 minutes left in its effective lifespan. I pulled my blade out from it, leaking blood and other bodily fluids from the hole I've effectively drilled.

I stab again, this time pushing the sword all the way until it reached the hilt. I felt the hardened body quiver with leftover life. Subconscious or not, it only served to fuel my desire even more. Stab, stab, stab, stab. With every new hole was a new set of infinite possibilities. What internal organs would I rupture this time? How much blood could I spill? It's amazing what you can do when you set your mind to it and detach from everything else.

But eventually, it grew boring. This abomination was already dead, and I couldn't get any more satisfaction from it. I got bored after about a hundred punctures or so, and looked around.

I have to say, I am quite the artist. The grass was beautifully sprinkled with dots, splatters and lines of deep red, forming a surreal phantasm. The glittering moonlight only served to make my masterpiece even more beautiful than it already was, if that was even possible. I sighed in contentment, happy for two things.

One, that I avenged my best friend.

Two, that I actually made something beautiful today.

I smiled a bit before jogging back, taking out my Ipod and taking a picture. After all, moments like this were meant to be treasured. I just killed my very first virus!

Now...on to the next one. I carried my weight back home, dragging my sword behind me. If killing was was this difficult, then that means I have to practice if I want to make them pay. But then again, if killing them is going to end up this fun, it might not be so bad.

After all, a man needs his satisfaction, doesn't he?