Shounen Bat (Lil' Slugger) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
strike_you_out) wrote2011-08-20 03:13 pm
strike_you_out) wrote2011-08-20 03:13 pm
Entry tags:
twenty two | vitamin D & calcium & razor blades
726 Anderson Lane; Saturday morning
[Every morning, a row of fresh milk bottles greets the first resident to step foot out onto the front porch of 726 Anderson Lane. Today, the foot belongs to Slugger. After witnessing firsthand what sort of punishment awaited those who didn't go along with the Milkman's latest folly, he's decided that straight-up drinking the milk is less dangerous than the alternative. Not so much for himself but for his "family", whom he would surely massacre in a heartbeat along with a good section of Mayfield if he were droned, and Slugger much preferred to do his murdering while in his right mind.
Picking up a bottle, he uncaps it, smells it, dips a finger into it experimentally. Something sharp pricks his skin below the milk's surface. This bottle may as well have his name written all over it. Slugger takes a seat on the steps and silently braces himself before raising the bottle to his lips and tipping it back.
It takes him a long time to finish the bottle because each time he takes a drink, his throat instantly swells to repair itself from the damage. Occasionally, he can't help but cough up and spit out a milky razor blade. Perhaps the worst part of it, aside from the pain of course, is the unsettling sensation of milk sloshing about in his insides whenever he moves and vague metallic clinking sounds. Luckily, he now has less than half a bottle left. With a resigned sigh, he begins to accept that this was possibly how life would be from now on in this town, this hell.]
[Every morning, a row of fresh milk bottles greets the first resident to step foot out onto the front porch of 726 Anderson Lane. Today, the foot belongs to Slugger. After witnessing firsthand what sort of punishment awaited those who didn't go along with the Milkman's latest folly, he's decided that straight-up drinking the milk is less dangerous than the alternative. Not so much for himself but for his "family", whom he would surely massacre in a heartbeat along with a good section of Mayfield if he were droned, and Slugger much preferred to do his murdering while in his right mind.
Picking up a bottle, he uncaps it, smells it, dips a finger into it experimentally. Something sharp pricks his skin below the milk's surface. This bottle may as well have his name written all over it. Slugger takes a seat on the steps and silently braces himself before raising the bottle to his lips and tipping it back.
It takes him a long time to finish the bottle because each time he takes a drink, his throat instantly swells to repair itself from the damage. Occasionally, he can't help but cough up and spit out a milky razor blade. Perhaps the worst part of it, aside from the pain of course, is the unsettling sensation of milk sloshing about in his insides whenever he moves and vague metallic clinking sounds. Luckily, he now has less than half a bottle left. With a resigned sigh, he begins to accept that this was possibly how life would be from now on in this town, this hell.]
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A year. No one drank the milk for as long as I've been here. But now it's mandatory.
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Droning is the natural punishment, but I've never heard they could become this violent. This town... likes making new rules and conditions.
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[Eyeing the bottle of milk, he contemplates taking another sip.]
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No, not really. Not anymore.
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Were you ever human?
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But my body was taken and put through different methods of experimentation and mutation. I have become the carrier for the two attributes that exist within all lifeforms, but constantly fight one another for dominance... Silhouette and Mirage.
Actually, you could even say that I'm the perfect human. That was what they wanted to create, after all. But non-human works just as well.
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Silhouette is the active quality within lifeforms. Mirage is passive. Silhouette is defined by physical strength. Mirage is defined by mental strength. One force is always more prominent over the other and they're always at odds. But New Humanity believed they could a way to make them co-exist.
The products of this quest are called Guardian Angels. Silhouette and Mirage occupy different parts of their bodies isolated from each other. I, however, am Armageddon... Silhouette and Mirage blended well inside my body. I am... a "Normal" entity.
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What do Guardian Angels do?
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Once the Messiah was chosen, the rest were simply doomed to rot away. An aspect of myself reprogrammed and made them all into bodyguards.
... Heh. But why the interest?
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...
So. Are you the Messiah?
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No, I'm the reason why the Messiah was necessary. I am the end of the world.
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I wanted to share my suffering with everybody else. It wasn't fair that they didn't know that I was in pain. I brought them their end and offered them a new beginning afterward... as the flock to my shepherd.
But it's not as though people were in peace before I acted. Wide-spread civil wars, revolutions... all because of those experiments. They accepted their end as retribution.
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You made them suffer? How?
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I spread my madness.
The latent attributes within everybody were activated and both Silhouette and Mirage violently struggled inside them. They aren't supposed to exist in the same body at the same time. Their bodies mutated slowly and painfully into monsters without their original memories. Heh. They deserved every bit of it.