Little Johnny

Take Me To Church-SC3

((you guys can I'll be nice and you can have a ghost × toast chapter, if you don't like the ship and are convinced one or the other is not Gay/Bi/Pan, stop reading now!!)

(Here you go children.)

Beginning, end. End, beginning. The relentless factor of life. You live, you die. You die, you live. Simple. No requirements. You just live and die.

That was always, always my reasoning. I'm just the caretaker. The creator of the arithmetic. The Malach-ha-mavis.

ANGEL OF DEATH.

I never had... Any experience with feeling. No pain, no emotion.. No problems. Hell, that's what it feels like. Having someone who you you actually care about. I just... I'm not me. I'm him.

I vowed this was my last. I swore to myself. Only if the dire need comes. I would never.. Ever do it again.

---

The cobalt blade in my hand deemed itself a mayhem. I just withheld it. I walked to the front doors, murmuring, "My lover's got humour.. He's the giggle at a funeral.." I backed away from the door, going to the window instead. I lodged the blade under the seal, snapping it upright, opening the window with ease. I crawled through.

"Knows everybody's disapproval.. Should've worshipped him sooner.." I muttered, nearly jumping in through the window. I shivered at the sudden warmth, taking down the hood. Everybody was asleep except for the girl.

"If the heavens every did speak, he's the last true mouthpiece." I said, walking to the far corner of the household. The awake ones go first.

I heard the whimpering in the room before I entered. The girl was complaining about a nightmare silently. Or the fact that she knew I was there and she couldn't escape the inevitable. Either way, she goes first.

I opened the door, mustering the most comforting look I could manage. The girl's deep green eyes seemed to look past that. She ducked under the covers, afraid. "Every Sundays getting more bleak, a fresh poison each week.." I sang in the form of a lullaby, the girl relaxing. "We were born sick, but we love it..." I sang vigorously, bringing the blade down. There was a squeak of agony, then silence.
"Ahem... Ahem... Amen.." I said under my breath, watching the body for any signs of life.

I continued down the hall.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shine of your light.. I'll tell you my sins, you can sharpen your knife.." The last part was harder to say. He already knew my sins. He hated them. He did once threaten to..
End it all himself. Took me hours to calm himself..

"Offer me that deathless death... Good god let me give you my light.."

I passed down the door of the deceased son, died months before of leukemia. Couldn't save him.

"Take me to church.." I said, entering the parents room. The father was already up. He turned the corner, his neck snapping at the sudden force of my wrist hitting him in the neck. He fell to the ground without effort. The mother lie still in the bed, either passed out from did, alcohol or sadness. Doesn't make a difference. The room was the same.

"If I'm the pagan of the good times, my lovers the sunlight... Keep the god on my side, he demands a sacrifice.." I said, bringing down the knife on the exposed throat. She stirred, shivered, And then died.

"Take me to church."