It's been three months . . . . . .
3 months. . . . .
T̸̘̖͈̺̩̝̮̙̤̪̿̑̽̾H̶̛̛̥̝͍͈̘͇̮̪͍̪̖̱͔͖̅̓̂̆͋̊̃̏̈́͜͝͝͝͠R̶̪̂̃̂̔̓̌̓̑̈́̇͛̅̄͘Ȩ̷̡̨̨̧̺̱̘͉̭̭̩̬̉͆̏̈́̽̀̚͘͝Ę̵̱̠̬̝͈͇̹̫̗̮̠̲̩͌ ̵̢̘̟̤̑̀͊M̵͎̼͓͕͛͛́̍̃̿̆̀̓̆̉̀̆̋̕Ǫ̴̠͍̼̬̮̼̜̟͋͜Ņ̴̦̠̳̹̥̑̈́͝T̵̡͕͎͕͓͓̰͙̯͉͙̹͖̻̀̑̈͌̎̈́̄̔̐͛̀͠Ḧ̶̢͔̜̦͙̘̖̮̹̪̩͍́͆͒̾̓̋͌͊͘̚͜S̶̢̨̛̠̠͈̞̟̙̼̦̿̀́̿̉̓̈́̈́̊̌̒́͜͜͝
T̴̨̖̠̦̱̜̠̲̻͙͙̠̱̫͓͔̭̞͕̫̻͔̪̳̠̺̻̆̂̀̈̋͂͋̈́̄͐̈́̐̆̀̈̈́̒͆̿̀̾̏̊̈́̊̂̓͛̇̕̕̕̕͜͜͠͝ͅH̵̡̢̧̛̜͙̠̺̻̲̻͙̲̘̼̳̱͉̩̮̻͕̖̳̹̭͙͉̤̪͉͔̱̼̜̣̰̟͚͔̯͇̲̹̟̟̣̞͎͔̖̘̗̥̭̪̖̭̰͖̲̥̍̐̈́̎͑̔̂͗̄̍̐͌̅͛́̄̈́̈́̋̐͒̓͒́̒̓̓̂͐̊̓̃̓̒̌̈́́́̉̎̆̊̆͌̀̕̚͘͜͝R̶̛̜̮͇̞͓̲̝̭̹̻͈̥̎͌͊̆͊̉́͒̀̾̎̍̎͛̀̾͊͐̆̐̎͆̃̉̈́̈͂͆̄̄͆̍̕̚̚͘͝͝Ę̵̢̛̛̯̦̬̩̞̃͋̏̾̃͆͒̃͋̽̉̽̽͘͜͜͝͝Ȩ̸̢̧̧̧̧̡̛̛̩̦̗̙̤̠̞̺͍͙̼̜̘̰̫̻͇̞̘̲̱̪͉͖̟̘̣̺̫̣͉͉̭̳̥͍͎͍͓̺͕̲̼̱͕̥̞͎̺̻̰̦̰̙͖̝͇̣̙̻̳̰̽̒͒͛̓̔̿̓́͗͐̉̋̄́̈́͑̉̀̊̏͊͊̏̓̊͌̐͗̄̀̑̋͐͐͛͑͗̈́̐͛͆̉͗̊̑̿͆̾͘͝͠͝͝ͅͅͅ ̴̛̛̞͖̯̩̠͉̪̺̤̪͍̣̘͕̮̔̆̇͊̍̊́͆̎̓̄͑͂̊̀͋̓́̐̑͆̈̈́̏̑̄̉̌̋̂͒̓̇̽̇̓̊̄͑͆́̈́͒̃̽̋̿̓͛̄́̈́̇̎̃̑͌̾̒̽̏̀̚͝͠͝M̶̡̡̛̰͎̙͓̯̺͕̯̟̗̬͉̲̪̯̰̠̘͉͚̝̠̏͊̇̎̀̽͋̂̋̃̋́̉̈̏̈́͂̄͑̈́̿͐̄̄̔͗̅͛̒̈́͛̊̋̈́̔̄͌̇͂̉̅̿̇̈̅̌͂͊͌̇̈́̇͌̅͗̀̐̊̾̕̕͘͘͘͠͝ͅO̴̢̢̡̧̨̨̡̡̟̱̩̣̭̦̞̞̞̩̞̯̣͕͚̘͇̳̝̞̪̺̝̥͇̯̫̣͇̣̼̝͙̲͈̞̲̒̓͒̂̀̔̍̓̈́͋̽̐͐̎͐̾̐̒́̽̌̔̈́̓̕̚̚͠Ņ̸̨̛̛̛̛̠̫̜̘̠̫̖̠͉̬͈͎͉͍̯̰͍̻̮̠̗͈̰́̿̇̄̇̒̆̌͛͐̐̾̓̂̉́̇͆̐̉͒̾̈́̈͗̎̅̌͐̅̌̀̿͂̔̌́͋̈́̅̎̒͛̚͘̚͠͠͝͝͝͠͝T̶̢̨̨̡͍̥̯̱͓̻̝̩̞̤̙̣̪͎̰͓̳̬̥̝̘̲͇̼̩̥̮̙̪̘̱͔͉͈̪͕̤̹̙̭͎̦͔̠͓̫̯̰̟̱͙͔̖̻̣͉̠̝̰̰̜̫̎̂͛̃̂̄̅͛͌̒͑͌͌̽̓͆̍͑̑̂̈́̎̀̐̽̽̕̚͜͠͠͝ͅͅH̶̛̛̜͑́̊̒̊̈̑̀̈̈́̌͋̍̓̾̔̓̇͊̑̅̊͑̍͌͝͠͠S̸̢̧̧̛̛̬͉͉͉̬̀͑̈́̓̓͐̓̾̋̑́̅͛̋͐̃̎̌̅̓̌̏̅̾̂̿̀̀͛̅́͋́͊̆̌̏͊͒̓̇̄̔̆́͌͂̅͒̐̔̽͑̀̿̄̚͠͠͝͝͠͝
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Anti wasn't in the best state of mind anymore.
They really had abandoned him.
Why?
How much longer would he have to wait!?
Hadn't he suffered enough!?
He couldn't stand being alone any longer!
But he couldn't just laid down and wait to for them, either.
Could he?
YOU ARE READING
Pity for the Insane
FanfictionHe got what he wanted. But he doesn't understand anything anymore. He thought this was what he wanted. This was what he was made for, right? This was who he was. What happened? Where did his purpose go? Who was he without that purpose? Antisepticeye...
