Alaric Mirit
Nov 22nd, 2005, 11:46:23 PM
I suppose true corruption occurs or begins from a child's birth and is elevated to new heights by the siring forces. Mitsuru and I have often wondered that if things had happened differently, if our parents had been different, had they loved us; maybe we too would not be as thus. But, of course, there is always the force that put such genocidal thoughts in our minds in the first place. The destruction of an entire family was close. The blue blood of the Tsukiko clan was bound to run red when spilled by liaison's hand.
My blood, my family, by my hand.
It was all her fault...
_____
Seven Years Ago
Alaric Mirit - Takeshi Tsukiko
Age: 14
_____
Takeshi Tsukiko was probably the more quiet of the three brothers. In his own biased opinion, Atsui was the whining brat and Mitsuru was the child genius who would be the one to kill their lot did he find time in his busy twelve year old schedule. His parents, thank god, mostly left Take alone. The way he liked it. However, his mother was beginning to get a bit too close, now that father and little Atsui were out of town on father/son business.
He made it his own business to miss every one of Mrs. Tsukiko's prey seeking smiles and assessing gazes. He was hardly stupid, though by far in his brother's shadow. He knew what those occasional glances met, he only hoped he could escape her presence before she managed to sink her poisoned claws even deeper.
It was later, on one of those very common nights, that he sought out the solace of his room and found her there.
Takeshi nudged his way into the room, puzzling about the ajar condition of his door. It was closed the moment he was past the frame, a smaller, ominous shadow swept over him from behind. Her precious words, simpering caresses, and coy smile. They were all the things that, he knew from the start, would come too late.
"What are you doing? STOP IT! NO!"
"Take-kun, mommy just wants to play. Hold still!"
"Mitsuru! Help! Ka-san! STOP!"
It had been her mistake not to heed my words. I believe she knew the second she stepped past me and onto the balcony that she was finished. Anger, like an infectious disease, drove me forward. There was no such pleasantry like kindness in my grip or lift. I cast her over the balcony railing as though she weighed but air and covered my ears, willing myself not to hear her impact cry. So much time passed and I realized, removing my hands from my ears, that it had been me screaming.
My blood, my family, by my hand.
It was all her fault...
_____
Seven Years Ago
Alaric Mirit - Takeshi Tsukiko
Age: 14
_____
Takeshi Tsukiko was probably the more quiet of the three brothers. In his own biased opinion, Atsui was the whining brat and Mitsuru was the child genius who would be the one to kill their lot did he find time in his busy twelve year old schedule. His parents, thank god, mostly left Take alone. The way he liked it. However, his mother was beginning to get a bit too close, now that father and little Atsui were out of town on father/son business.
He made it his own business to miss every one of Mrs. Tsukiko's prey seeking smiles and assessing gazes. He was hardly stupid, though by far in his brother's shadow. He knew what those occasional glances met, he only hoped he could escape her presence before she managed to sink her poisoned claws even deeper.
It was later, on one of those very common nights, that he sought out the solace of his room and found her there.
Takeshi nudged his way into the room, puzzling about the ajar condition of his door. It was closed the moment he was past the frame, a smaller, ominous shadow swept over him from behind. Her precious words, simpering caresses, and coy smile. They were all the things that, he knew from the start, would come too late.
"What are you doing? STOP IT! NO!"
"Take-kun, mommy just wants to play. Hold still!"
"Mitsuru! Help! Ka-san! STOP!"
It had been her mistake not to heed my words. I believe she knew the second she stepped past me and onto the balcony that she was finished. Anger, like an infectious disease, drove me forward. There was no such pleasantry like kindness in my grip or lift. I cast her over the balcony railing as though she weighed but air and covered my ears, willing myself not to hear her impact cry. So much time passed and I realized, removing my hands from my ears, that it had been me screaming.