the reality of brutality TOKYO GHOUL FANFICTION Amon x akira

incomprehensible reality

Evil comes in many forms, in abuse, emotional neglect, psychological torture and many others – all instigated by a minority of individuals – there are some people who are the embodiment of evil because they are the medium in which evil propagates. I have a strong inclination towards physical justice, I would gladly and genuinely inflict pain and suffering on those that have committed evil acts, ironic? I suppose on some levels, but I distinctly think that those that injure the innocent are subhuman and therefore are not allowed the benefits of human morality.

  Coming in contact with these individuals breeds such vehement and unrelenting hatred in me, they are vile creatures that deserve the treatment of garbage to be discarded, ostracized and converted into basic sustenance for humanity which transcends dirt. The conditions of my hatred is fairly simple, those that abuse the innocent or damage them permanently in anyway even if not directly. Maybe damage is subjective and abuse is subjective, there's no supreme being to define what is right and what's not, people can only rely on their collective, innate instincts to decide what the basics of ethics are.

  My hatred has no products obviously, so it really doesn't matter, but I just wanted to express it. There are just some people I would derive an incredible amount of pleasure in destroying, torturing, incapacitating and reducing to the point where they are no longer a biological creature but stripped to the foundation of their organic material. My captors were creatures in which my hatred was directed. Transitioning to the outside in order to be transported was a quick process, they briefly unrestrained me to allow me to dress in generic clothing.

  The member that supervised me stood planted in the doorway, obstructing any way I would be able to escape. My stay with this gang had left me thin and weak with deficiency, and perhaps that could be utilized to my advantage. With my emaciated form surely they would not anticipate any kind of resistance - perhaps which I wasn't even capable of in the first place, but still I was allowed the privilege of no expectations. After dressing the man approached me to restrain me again, and before me was a small window of hope at evading him. His stepping towards me created space between his body and the door as he moved forward. His bulky form still blocked the path considerably, but the capability of escaping still existed. I had nothing to lose, so why not? If I was caught then they couldn't inflict any punishment I had already not experienced, and after so long I had started to disregard myself. As he bent down to tie my arms I jarred myself forward, my head colliding with his chin with powerful force. The blow did what I anticipated and forced him to stagger backwards. In this time I maneuvered around him and began rushing to find an exit.

  The hallways were concrete and bland, not embellished to any degree to give the illusion of being unoccupied if any authorities were to find this place. It was single story and stifling, but surely there had to be a window I could throw myself through. At my escape the ghoul began thundering after me, the commotion attracting nearby ghouls who joined my pursuit. Although I was not very muscular I still possessed the ability to move quickly with ease, balance was something I excelled in and when applied to moving it made it far more effective. My instincts and adrenaline were my only guide as I raced through the building, there had to a way out. Eventually I did find a window and smashed through it with my shoulder without taking in consideration the height. It was actually a fairly significant distance I had jumped from, so upon landing pain jolted through my legs and ankles. I ignored this though out of panic and continued running to the best of my ability. The ghouls that were meant to follow me were much more reluctant to throw themselves from the height, giving me time to make my way farther from the base.

  The area around me was filthy and vacant from the product of being outside yet another large ghetto. My only hope was to enter it and hide myself among the civilians. It took about an hour as it was a few miles from the complex but I finally entered the ghetto, gasping and hacking with exhaustion. To my joy there were fellow people that occupied the area, intermingling and exchanging conversation, buying things from near by stores. Immediately I approached the closest one who happened to be an elder woman. I tapped on her shoulder urgently.

  "Where am I?" I gasped. "I was just kidnapped, I need to know where I am." To my surprise she actually glared at me with distrust and waved me away.

  "Go away, prostitute," she said. "We don't need your kind here." I was immediately offended, had she no compassion? And did I really look like a prostitute?

  "Please," I begged. "Please tell me where I am." She waved me away again.

  "Do your sleazing somewhere else." She turned and walked away. I was beginning to grow frustrated, I had just escaped from brutality and everyone refused to help me? I approached numerous other people, but was treated with the same disregard, hostility and contempt. Everyone refused to talk to me, I was so baffled and did not understand my alienation whatsoever.

  The sky was beginning to darken overhead and sickeningly I knew I had to find shelter before dusk came. Without doubt the gang would be searching this ghetto for me, as this was the only area that provided some chance of hiding. I had no money or really anything. I found a nearby inn and begged for service.

  "I need a place to stay," I pleaded. "Please, I have no money or anything in collateral, is there a way I can compensate?" The woman at the desk glared at me with the same distaste.

  "We always have homeless coming in and trying to worm their way into our beds, we don't cater to them. Find somewhere else." Well, okay, the homeless part was true at this time. I turned to leave, absolutely crushed at my failure. I was overcome with a sense of hopelessness and defeat, surely now I would be recaptured - or perhaps even worse: I would starve to death among the other endless homeless that suffered here as well, I was no longer any different.

  I left the inn and began to become more aware of the fellow homeless that gathered across the town, sleeping in doorways, on newspapers next to buildings or on benches. It was a horrible reality of life, that many were forced to live like this and there was nothing they could do. I never even fathomed the idea of being homeless ever, it was still something I couldn't even grasp. Surely I had a cellphone or something I could use to call Amon or the CCG and have them collect me and return me to the comfort and security of my home, surely I had money to buy expensive dinners if I so desired and new fancy cat toys for Maris Stella. But no, I was completely penniless and lacked anything other than the clothes on my back, that reality was incomprehensible.  

  Numbly I pressed myself against the back of a building under a wooden stairway and laid down. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be happening. Obviously I wasn't able to sleep, only distantly look at the building in front of me with my eyes wide with disbelief. I was beginning to finally drift off in the late hours of the night when a middle aged man woke me up.

  "Do you need a place to stay?" he asked.