Learn to love, learn to be loved

A leader, A hero, A virus and a Friend

Dark would be a liar if he said that the forest he currently used as a hideout didn't became lonely and dull after a while.

After all there's only so much walking and staring at trees one could do before going insane.

And by the voices that swarm his mind, Dark was steadily reaching the 'crazy' category in life.

Watching the chosen one from afar has also become quite boring too.
Don't get him wrong, Chosen has always been a piece of heaven in his turmoil of a existence but watching as he slowly became less and less himself was taking a toll on his already foul mood.

Even hacking and reprogramming his spiders was getting boring, there weren't many left alive anyways and none of them seemed to stick around for very long afterwards.

Not even his own creatioms seemed to enjoy his company anymore. That makes Purple one hell of a special breed.

Purple was different from Chosen though, and Dark didn't know exactly in which category to put him in. 

He was definitely brave or stupid to reach out to Dark, such a dangerous creature that he was. But also kind and weak and open minded and naive and clever and...

It was becoming a bad habit of his... He would pick apart all he knew about the purple figure and try shoving it into the perfect little cast that he had made for Chosen.

Oh, how he hated that it didn't work as easily.

Purple was great, in his own convoluted way, he had to admit. But he didn't fill the space as well as chosen did.

Is it wrong of him to think that way? If it is, there is no reason to mask it. Many thing that comes to his mind are very... very wrong anyway.

But a very small, starved part of him seemed to care about that particular thought.

Purple isn't Chosen... And he won't fill the gap and won't numb the pain the way Chosen did.

No matter how desperately Dark Lord wants him to.

And that makes him so unbelievably upset.

He could end it all, he could break the weak figure's neck and throw him in the water.

If he prays hard enough, the pain and the loneliness will float away with the cadaver and Dark can go back to his comfortably numb state.

But right now, the pulsating itch, the clawing desperate desire to follow his programing and just burn it all to a crisp was nothing more than a annoying little whisper in the back of his mind.

A whisper that, Purple's loud happy laughter was drowning very well.

Purple had laid down on the grass, cackling about a joke Dark had told him. A image that Dark had never seen coming from his friend.

It made his pain tolerable, like they were just laughing at it and making it out to be the funniest joke in the world.

Like his horrible burning agony turned into a small bothersome needle on the bottom of his feet.

And Purple was numbing it, like a infection necrosing the tissue...

Purple was his infection and he kinda likes it that way.

Watching the dust slowly settling down from the explosions he had caused, filling him with pride for the chaos he had created. It never occurred to him that someone else could be listening.

That's why it was such a surprise when a bright shot of green energy strike him in the face so violently that it's shock wave trembled the trees around him.