InSaNiTy

THIS IS FER THE VIO LINK FANCLUB MONTHY THEME! HORROR! ;D
did I do good!? Because this took a hell of a long time to get just right!
Either way, this is Vio and he has gone INSANE from the knowledge of him betraying Shadow~ Like, he's gone bat shit CRAZY!!!
Now, he's committing suicide by tying a wire around his neck and letting it suffocate him, and eventually it will even dig right through his skin and cut his head off! ;D isn't that pleasant!
And cut right onto his wrist is the letter S for Shadow~
And now, if you want to read it, here's a short little story behind the picture~..please read it, this took forever ;3;"
and I went through a sudden paranoid stage for some reason, and I was so fucking scared! So please read it!
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5 months, 24 days, 2 hours, 7 minutes, and 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, seconds since the event, the scarring event that took place. The clock ticked, ticked, ticked, ticked. Counting the seconds, minutes, hours that went by in isolation.
Tick, tick, tick went the clock.
Drip, drip, drip, went the pipes.
Squeak, squeak, squeak went the broken window flaps.
Blade met soft flesh, along with the high pitched giggle of an ex-hero, echoing around a church structure long since forgotten.
Blood and tears flown freely in those 5 months, 24 days, 2 hours, 7 minutes, and 43, 44, 45, 46, 47 seconds that passed.
Colors mixed with each other in this place, this vivid imagination of insanity. Dull grey floors mixed with sky aqua tears fallen from ocean marine eyes. Dark crimson blood met with the brown dirt of betrayal to make a rusted crimson color scattered across the cracked earth. Light purple rains mixed with the clear white tears of the guilty, unable to purify the injustice he deemed himself of.
Time never stopped for the deranged, all too aware of the passing of each month, week, day, hour, minute, second, moment.
Tick, tick, tick went the clock.
Knife clattered to the floors of the church, coated and splattered with the warm, fresh crimson essence of a life given up. Boot steps of forlorn reverberated from the ceiling to the floors, yet still unheard of by no ears but the absent.
Drip, drip, drip went the wrist.
Steps led from pews, to escalading stairs, to alter. The once bright and shining Triforce of the worship was now dull and broken, its surface barley reflecting the mangled hair, wild eyes, crimson appearance. Blood smeared onto the once pure surface by clammy hands. Fingers dances across the external shell.
All was reflected, none went unnoticed.
Superficial details became blatantly obvious, drawing nothing but fury, agony, grief, depression. The cycle continued.
All was crooked, all was straight.
Drip, drip, drip went the wrist.
The paces went from alter to stairs, stairs to pews, pews to window. The purple rain of the guilt continued outside, never letting up, never halting in the mind of wonderful disasters. Ghostly breath obscured musty glass, its uneven rhythm pitching from fast to slow.
Soon, a gale outside rattled the leafless and bare trees, sweeping the land in a flurry of whispers and dropping sorrows from above, an angels tainted tears and dyeing breath. Footsteps now led away from the frame.
Squeak, squeak, squeak went the broken window flaps.
The soul made its way to the beams that supported all important foundation, now supporting a wire stretching from pillar to pillar. A convenient slack placed onto the line, allowing it to be securely and snugly wrapped around the collar, no room for moment, no room for error.
The stool underneath making a comfortable stepping spot for those boots to rest as the wire fastened, a smile spread across chapped and broken lips. But now, the stool found itself removed, the boots dangling freely into the dead air of the church.
Dead air now filled with joyful laughter and strangling gurgled. Parted lips spun strands of words made up of passion, hatred, acceptance, guilt
Flurries of emotions blasted like snow, burying the existence under a blanket of pure white. The laughter and words halted as the last breath was inhaled, unknown by no one, cared by all, and left for the love of insanity.
Tick, tick, tick went the clock.
Drip, drip, drip, went the neck.
Squeak, squeak, squeak went the dangling body.