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Author's Note: Written for < lj user="comment_fic">'s author's choice, author's choice, who ever knew you could become addicted to killing? Muraki, pre-series.
It seemed like poetic justice that the first kill of Muraki's new existence would be the woman whose husband's despair had cost Muraki an eye and nearly cost him his life. This kill possessed none of the desperate mercy he had sensed when he had ended his mother's sufferings as a young man, as an innocent. Rather, the darkness within him reveled in it, while this death satisfied his thirst for revenge and his need to sustain himself on the lives of others.
This, he knew, would be the first of many kills to sustain himself and the part of him that had yet to completely bind itself to his inner demon drew back from the realization. But the part that had already given itself over to that demon already felt that rush of life which caused the demon's dark elation every time he fed it.
Once the demon was asleep, processing the energies absorbed, he could go about his usual routine: treating his patients, attending the odd social function with Ukyou, visiting Satomi. But in due time, the demon would reawaken, chattering, whispering, urging him to find another mark, another source of energy. And each time he killed, the energy supplied didn't seem to satisfy him as much as the previous one, no matter how young or vigorous his prey.
Classic signs of addiction: he thought he was immune to it, since he was only partly human. But it seemed he wasn't. Who knew that a being who might be the scion of angels might turn addicted to killing?
It seemed like poetic justice that the first kill of Muraki's new existence would be the woman whose husband's despair had cost Muraki an eye and nearly cost him his life. This kill possessed none of the desperate mercy he had sensed when he had ended his mother's sufferings as a young man, as an innocent. Rather, the darkness within him reveled in it, while this death satisfied his thirst for revenge and his need to sustain himself on the lives of others.
This, he knew, would be the first of many kills to sustain himself and the part of him that had yet to completely bind itself to his inner demon drew back from the realization. But the part that had already given itself over to that demon already felt that rush of life which caused the demon's dark elation every time he fed it.
Once the demon was asleep, processing the energies absorbed, he could go about his usual routine: treating his patients, attending the odd social function with Ukyou, visiting Satomi. But in due time, the demon would reawaken, chattering, whispering, urging him to find another mark, another source of energy. And each time he killed, the energy supplied didn't seem to satisfy him as much as the previous one, no matter how young or vigorous his prey.
Classic signs of addiction: he thought he was immune to it, since he was only partly human. But it seemed he wasn't. Who knew that a being who might be the scion of angels might turn addicted to killing?