InsaneJournal

-.-

There was something fascinating about death.

It was happening as he watched the tip of his spear penetrate through the thick fabric and break into the surface of the tanned flesh. As he pushed deeper and deeper, the bones of the ribs cracked and once again, he had to remind himself that this was not real.

That these were not real people.

That if they died, they would only dissipate like the data they were and become nothing.

Nothing.

In the end, everything would become nothing.

All of his work in the Sphere Company and the Eternal Sphere would be gone.

He pulled his spear back and in sickening amounts, blood flowed and ran down the battered chest in rivulets. It stained the clothes. He let the tip of his finger touch the blood and wrinkled his nose in disgust. The stench smelled too real. The blood was warm. Everything was too real.

He stood up and stared at the others thoughtfully. They were too shocked, too horrified to do anything now that their last hope, their so-called Weapon of Destruction was dead. But something else was bothering him.

He turned his head and gazed at his older sister, the traitor.

“Blair, why didn’t the Data dissipate like it was supposed to?”

She didn’t answer him. He had a feeling that she didn’t have to because the answer was not in her words; it was in her sad, mournful eyes.

He bent down and gazed at his defeated opponent. Those once bright, hopeful green eyes were hollow and empty. He knew that if he put his gloved hand on that stained chest again, the heart would not beat.

He decided that he needed to take care of the rest; he stood up, turned around and once again faced the remaining faulty Data.

However, before he could take another step, before he could thrust his spear forward and correct and eliminate what was wrong, strong arms wrapped and tightened around him.

One word was whispered to his ear:

“Die.”

Luther stiffened.

“Self-Destruction in three, two, one…”

-.-

There was something fascinating about death.

Everything that was created would then become destroyed and become nothing.

But that is the cycle of life, the very proof that existence is not of a social-construct and that living is indeed something very real.

-.-

End.

-.-

A/n: Happy belated Halloween?