In the distance, they call to me. Angry, internal tremors. Sounds that pressure me and claw the inside of my skull until they break from my threat in a violent rage. What am I to do, but to turn away? I can never be like everyone else. That was my revelation today. I must be losing my grip.
Near Manson
▷ Height: 3' 10
▷ Pelt: #F9FDFF
▷ Eyes: #666666
▷ Hair: #FFFFFF
▷ Species: Lupe
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▷ Color: White
▷ Age: 13
▷ Physique: Short, thin
▷ Gender: male
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Dear tnt I've revised my story to be more neo friendly. Please accept my peace offering. If this is still too serious for the site, feel free to wipe the page. Please just don't silence me again. I am honestly just trying to share my stories with others, not emotionally scar anyone or break the rules. Thanks.
I want. I need. But I cannot express.
Hallucinations. Apparitions. Visions.
Terrible things come from my head.
I can't stop seeing. I can never stop seeing. Even in darkness I see them. They seep from the cracks of my mind and the dark crevices of my dream and do terrible things. I am cursed, plagued. In the daylight they swallow me and at night pull me to the darkness.
I am alone. So alone
I can never be truly loved. No one will have me. My own mother wouldn't have me. But I've accepted the truth and I've bitten back the pain of that honesty.
He sat huddled in the corner of his bedroom. It had white carpet and white walls. His white hair draped over his knees and rested somewhere near his shoulders. He wore white clothes and every morning he woke to a quiet dinner and a small bowl of white grits on a white tray. His eyes shone silver at times, in the right light but primarily kept a heavy blackness. His eyes seemed to reflect his mood so it was always obvious when something was on his mind. But something was always on his mind. Most nights he found it difficult to sleep through all his constant thinking; everything from memories to calculations.
Near was what Klavram called him, but there was no official document giving him that name. He was short for his age and very pale. The only sun he'd ever seen was from the distance of Klavram's ship and even then it didn't look like the pictures in any of his books. He enjoyed those books for they were his only attachment to the physical world. Living an entire life in the stars, it was hard to believe anything else existed. But Klavram always told him he'd only be safe in the ship and he was never allowed to leave it; not even with the older lupe accompanying him. Still, Klavram always brought him back books and postcards with photos of places and things. That was at least something tangible. Something to convince him that life existed. That there were such things as seasons or grass, plants or animals. There were worlds he'd never seen and so many things yet to be experienced.
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I don't remember much about my life before I came to live with Klavram, but he told me that my mother died shortly after my birth and that he found me, orphaned, in an empty farm house. He told me that he was there, searching for a target, my mother I suppose; but I don't hate him for coming with intentions to kill her. He was only doing his job and, in the end, someone else got to her first. I don't know where in the cold heart of an assassin, Klavram found the kindness to take me in as his own but I've always been grateful for his mercy. All my life I've been carrying a heavy burden. I am evil, you see; a real monster. I am cursed, plagued by dark creatures. Some call them demons but they are hardly so. They travel in shadows and creep about in the dark corners of my mind, only speaking to me when prompted to do so. Klavram has always known about my problem and understood the danger I posed to myself and others. He kept me sheltered for thirteen years, traversing the galaxy and never once turning me loose on soil. He told me it was my mother's fault I thought such horrible things and had such vivid waking nightmares and hallucinations of those terrifying creatures. My mother traded my life to a reaper, is what he told me. I don't know where he got that information but I trusted him because he was the only family I'd ever known.
I grew to understand that one day I'd be an assassin too and my first target would be my teacher. He told me when I was ready, I'd do it. But over time he grew to know me and saw how gentle I was towards him. He knew I would never really go through with it. Never on my own. When I was about six he gave me a very special gift. Permanently branding the flesh of my arm with a six digit number series; 9007605. For the next few years he trained my mind to respond to the verbal reading of those numbers. I'd go into a mindless rage, cutting down anything in my path until the proper words were recited to terminate the previous command.
What that word or stream of words may be, I was never told. I guess I will never know. The important thing is that the numbers are never recited out of context. The only situation they were meant to used in was when the time came to kill Klavram. He'd taught me so much about his trade and made a very detailed plan about how he'd come to lose his edge and someone would take advantage of that and attempt to capture him. I suppose it was selfish on his part, to give me such a dangerous weapon when he knew he would no longer be around to disarm it.
When the time came for him to recite those numbers, we were captives on board a female lupe's ship.
She was a bounty hunter where she came from, and Klavram had escaped the tyranny of that planet some 30 years ago. They had to transport him back to their home where he'd be executed. I, on the other hand, seemed to be a valuable commodity- an albino lupe male, they said. I knew then what I had to do but everything was happening too soon. It didn't seem at all to line up with Klavram's plan. When this happened, I was supposed to be well into my twenties. But with the help of the captives recently on our ship, fate found a way to bring Klavram to his demise. I his last moments he assured me that he'd taught me well enough to fight my way out of the ship. Of course I was only thirteen then and still very attached to Klavram. I thought of him as a father and a friend. He told me that I'd have to learn to be on my own, though I depended on him so greatly. I knew so little about the world, in fact I still do.
But he recited the numbers and I did what I had to do. I wasn't able to escape the cell or the ship before we reached the female captain's planet but I was taken to the market and collected by an outsider; a dark haired aisha by the name of Felonni. She was a friend of Niccaru, Klavram's sworn enemy; but more importantly a friend to my biological father Segarl. But it didn't take me long to ruin things in his home. Shortly after we were reunited, much to my distaste, I attacked him and he was hospitalized for several weeks. After that no one would take me in, save an older gelert, Evan, who was a friend of Felonni's. He befriended me and offered me the chance to travel with him to his homeland and stay there until Segarl healed of the injuries I'd inflicted him with. I've learned much more through my experiences than Klavram could ever teach me from books or stories. Though I know Evan will never adopt me as his own family, he still is a very good friend. I just don't know how long I can expect it to last after he realizes that he can't fix whatever's wrong with me.
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