⸸|ＨＵＭＡＮ ＭＡＳＫ |BSD [Rewriting]

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Act
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[...]but since death establishes the order of the world, perhaps it is better for God not to believe in him and to fight death with all one's might, without lifting one's eyes to that heaven where he is silent.

Albert Camus, The Plague
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♥︎Peal Diver- Mitski

Her hand tightened around the lever as her finger tensed. Oh God, stop it..

Didn't even hear voices anymore, only saw movement and reacted like a machine. Kill...please kill.

Voices.

Her vision went dark. With all the strength, the body of human fell to the ground with a bang. Almost die again, but the commands, orders.

"Do we have to do this?" hesitation as she stared at the dead face. It shocked her. The man with pitch black hair walked towards her with a direct step, pushing her away from the sight of blood fanatically spattered on the old scraped walls. His stick-thin hands gone rested on her shoulders, blocking the entire view with his small body.

"Have you ever been to a war, Dollie?"

Thoughts repeated over and over again. The orders are the orders. If he says something, so be it. Answer it. Your skin, mind, body, soul is his hands, right now.

Silence answered him, when after a moment the weapon flew from her hands. His face almost softened. But not as always - artificially, cunningly - this time, more delicately, but still with his soulless seriousness, his piercing gaze.

"Of course not. You haven't even been born yet." he answered for her. The girl didn't react, still unable to get rid of the image of the weapon in her hand. Stress. Unnecessary hallucinations. They lead into temptation.

"War is a strange place, not for children. Not for anyone..."

"Viera, become a doll." His touch became more significant, more detectable.
"Don't worry about what's unnecessary now. You don't owe them anything, these people have to die this way. You have my permission."

Premisson..

He takes the responsibility...

But whose fault is it? Her for allowing it while being aware, or him as a puppeteer What can be more inhuman then leaving your life to other human beings? Leving your all chose...your emotions, yourself. Leving will to live, fight. Breaking rules of society, patern of thinking. Don't attach to anything, don't try to be anything. Don't judge...
All you want is die being no longer human.

But she still has her own mind...

...Right?...

"It's not your first time to spread blood on your hands... Let the people some of your tissue and you're going to end up without a limbs. But, that's just thier nature."

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She opened her eyes, looking at the colors of setting sky. The clouds just above her in thick fluff like pillows in a twiligth. She lay down on the bare concrete, muttering from the pain of her bruised limbs. Although had to admit, fell much more comfortable than back when she had doll dress and stiff patent shoes.