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quirkysmuseFandom: Inuyasha
Title: The Boy Who Shouldn't Have Lived
Genre: Supernatural/Angst
Rating: T
Character(s): Kohaku
Warnings: Some dark themes
Word Count: 250
Summary: They never left, clinging to him as invisible strings of sin tying each victim to his lifeline. Every day they moved with him, unrelenting in their redemption that would come about with his death.
They crowded around and reminded him each day that he didn’t deserve to live.
Sometimes they would try to tell him, their gaunt rotted jaws moving but producing no words. Instead he heard their shrieking, an endless mantra that stung against his ears.
They didn’t need to speak because he knew what they would say.
“Why did you kill my baby?”
“Why did you burn our home?”
“You seemed like such a nice boy ...”
They never left, clinging to him as invisible strings of sin tying each victim to his lifeline. Every day they moved with him, unrelenting in their redemption that would come about with his death.
He said and enjoyed nothing because they wouldn’t allow him. They wouldn’t allow him to smile or grow. To them, he deserved none of that. Striding in his step and tugging at his shadow, they were the pressure over his mind and the weight on his frown.
No one else had really seen them, and he would endure this alone. He accepted this price. Everyday he would sit and settle and look ahead into space, staring at the phantoms as they stared back, waiting and ready for him to die one day – waiting for him to join them.
And now he was nothing more than an animated corpse, faking existence that was considered life. He could not truly live anymore because his life was not his.
He belonged to them, these restless souls of the strangers whose lives he had ripped away.
Title: The Boy Who Shouldn't Have Lived
Genre: Supernatural/Angst
Rating: T
Character(s): Kohaku
Warnings: Some dark themes
Word Count: 250
Summary: They never left, clinging to him as invisible strings of sin tying each victim to his lifeline. Every day they moved with him, unrelenting in their redemption that would come about with his death.
They crowded around and reminded him each day that he didn’t deserve to live.
Sometimes they would try to tell him, their gaunt rotted jaws moving but producing no words. Instead he heard their shrieking, an endless mantra that stung against his ears.
They didn’t need to speak because he knew what they would say.
“Why did you kill my baby?”
“Why did you burn our home?”
“You seemed like such a nice boy ...”
They never left, clinging to him as invisible strings of sin tying each victim to his lifeline. Every day they moved with him, unrelenting in their redemption that would come about with his death.
He said and enjoyed nothing because they wouldn’t allow him. They wouldn’t allow him to smile or grow. To them, he deserved none of that. Striding in his step and tugging at his shadow, they were the pressure over his mind and the weight on his frown.
No one else had really seen them, and he would endure this alone. He accepted this price. Everyday he would sit and settle and look ahead into space, staring at the phantoms as they stared back, waiting and ready for him to die one day – waiting for him to join them.
And now he was nothing more than an animated corpse, faking existence that was considered life. He could not truly live anymore because his life was not his.
He belonged to them, these restless souls of the strangers whose lives he had ripped away.
