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individulsong

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A body is an insignificant thing; something that I have become accustomed to living without. A mind takes control of conscience thought never fully understanding the substantial universe that plagues those who are unaware. A tormented gathering of lost souls beckons these great episodes of pain and fear, and a simple mind will accept this as a home-base. In darkness, in one mind, there is hardly pleasure.  Confronted by the constant flush of neglect, there is no reason for happiness and within harbors a distrust.

But within what? A vibration. A rush of air. A traveling by standard in a world where I am lost. So, a body is useless to those who understand, but you all do not. Do you? No, you do not. I am a spirit of sorts that is waiting for my chance of redemption. Do not assume that there is no guilt in me. There is, but as I said before, I am a harbored version of what I once was. I am neither a man nor beast. In a body I have a voice and movement, the chance to kill off what for so long has haunted my lonely mind. I am Malicio, though, in a sense, I am not… Rashel.

Fickle as I am, I do not whish upon myself a hurt or a loss. I fear Vandoule will be lost from me if he continues this path of deceit. Rashel is dead, but I am not so sure. There is something that touches me, pinpricks me; tells me I should be careful. A voice, a sound, a vision. A craft higher than vampiric power. I can’t place this feeling or thought, but it is connected to the pain of Vandoule. I am unsure of how to describe this. Is it possible for a vampire to die inside of his dead body? Inside of his mind?

That is right, children, I am wandering alone in my thoughts, far away from what I was once; a man in a beast: a beast in a man; whatever I once was. I am now a shell of nothing, beckoning my entire self to succumb to whatever awaits me. I am nothing! I should not live in death! There is no hope for me, for Olivia! There is nothing left in this world that I should be living for! What is love if I am not living? What do I enjoy? I enjoy blood from human beings!

I am ashamed that I allowed myself to be manipulated by the darkness of my obsession. That’s right. I admit it. I am an obsessive vampire. In life, I, too, was an obsessive man. Things in my life were mine, always mine. Beauties were mine. Everything was mine. I was only happy when it went my way, when I had what I thought was rightfully mine. Perhaps I am slightly ridiculed in that sense. In life I was an outcast, an outcast full of beauty.

But what is beauty? What did I say beauty was? What is life with or without beauty? Do I only love Olivia because she is beautiful? Did I only love Rashel because she was beautiful? What makes them beautiful? I am in love with a thought, with a smell, with an interaction of human flesh, which I take away in my rashness! I am a murderer! There is no life in this death. Where am I? Where is my mind?

I smell fear in her. I smell fear in all things. I can taste it.

I’m frightened. Vandoule, where are you?

I am infatuated with fear. Makes me alive.