Bloody Knuckles (Zack x reader)

Life is Meaninglesss

I'm a grown ass woman, and yet I'm still in an emo phase. What's the point of living, if your going to eventually end up dead. That's been my motto ever since I was 12, I quit school and tried to end my misery by committing suicide at age 19 (my current age), unfortunately someone called an ambulance to take care of me.

 There I met a young girl, maybe about the age of 10-14. She had these big blue eyes and long blonde hair, she was also still hopeful. She's young, she still has some things to experience before she realizes the true meaning of our existence.

We talked, but I was discharged early and forced to leave. My head was still spinning with thoughts about why I was alive.

What's the point in hospitals if your going to keep getting injured or ill, the same reason why life lasts so long for some people.

My thoughts probably drove to this current state of mind, insane and crazy. Here I am, in my house punching dummies. I've been training myself for a while, sharpening my defense skills.

If I have to live out this life, I'll spend it studying this human race. And what better subject to test it on, then one that's truly dead? I can experiment on one for about a day or two, but they always begin to rot on the third day. 

For some reason, killing people has always given me a sense of excitement. It makes me so giddy to watch blood being shed, is there a name for this condition? 

I searched it up earlier, apparently I'm sadistic. Glad to know that I enjoy death.

Recently my killings have been found and became public, I'm known as the Reaper. A fitting name I think for me, killing people to end their misery and to study the human body.

But studying has become a bit boring, killing itself, it's much more fun to see those pain filled expressions! 

.

I have befriended two people! One's called (b/f/n) and the other Rachel Gardener. I haven't told them about my state of mind, but they accept my facade of a personality. 

I wanted to show (b/f/n) the joy of killing, but when I demonstrated how to kill correctly and to cover up your tracks, she looked at me with fear. 

My heart started to hurt and I felt the need to cry. What's this feeling? I've never felt this way before. I asked Rachel and she said that it was something called regret.

I never want to feel like that again.

To prevent myself from ever feeling that again I swore to kill during the night. An assassin is what I've become, the perfect line of work for me. I've gotten plenty of jobs to kill different people, whether they were good or bad they ended up dead once I met them. It was quite enjoyable to see the faces of victims frozen in shock as if they never expected me to do this, oh wait, they didn't.

One day I accidentally killed someone in front of my dear friend Rachel. It was an honest accident, I was in an alley to assure that no one would be watching, but Rachel happened to be walking by and heard the blood splatter of the human that was in my arms.

The feeling came back, but this time ten fold. I looked down in shame as I shed a tear. I had broken my promise to myself and Rachel had seen my true form. She won't accept me, I'm not a normal person. Suddenly I remembered my motto.

"What's the point in living if your going to eventually end up dead?"

Life is Meaningless