The Incorporeal Megalomaniac Genius' Repents

Hakai.

Forgotten, betrayed, cast aside, let go. Rejection.

Today is like all the rest of the days in the empty abyss. Nothing but dark. Nothing but memories that fade with each passing second, each grueling and longing hour that grows into days into months.. It's the eternal blanket I now suffer everyday. I can't move. I can't blink. I can't see; Maybe I can blink but I've seen darkness for so long that I'm unable to tell. I still wait to gaze at the light that will inevitably come eventually. But will it come? I have only a thinning thread of hope left. It's my determination, unrelenting persistence. My ambition. I've lost all senses in this realm. The only thing I have is my thoughts. Thoughts that dwindle and wander about in the useless loop of the illusion of time. I don't understand. What did I do to deserve this? Even the most malicious, immoral, corrupted soul riddled with unredeemed sin warrants this.

I thought hell was bad enough. The undead vessel of my very being was forced to comply with merciless torture. However, that was a given. I deserved every strike of agony in those days for what I've done in my living. It was a hellish amusement park with foreboding loops that grew into a newborn dystopia with each day passing. At Least in perdition I was able to grasp my sensibilities. This is how my mind conceptualizes all these faded recollections. It's been so long. I'm tired but I can't sleep. I experience afflictions without any cause nor reason. All that exists in my enlightenment is the caliginous void. Does this place I think of exist? It's twisting and playing with my subconscious, draining sanity until all that's left is such wonderful things. This was my destiny. Going beyond even the netherworld of sadists. Even they get cold to my unrepented affairs.

Who am I? I've forgotten my name. This was all willfully. I don't want to recognize myself with even a title sounding remotely mortal. I'm not human, and realize that I never was. This slithering incubus is welcoming every form of belittling label to bestow upon himself. I don't have any words to decline what you want to refer me as. I can't feel. What harm or consequence comes from defaming my calamity? Regress my ego for all I care. What is care to a soulless figment of deceiving sentience? I want to roar with my demented laughter, but is it possible to even determine the act through this ruined wonderland? Don't plan to try because it won't work. Just interpret my howls by elaborate description.

The presence I once harbored gave me a cursed gift that I should never had explored. My cerebellum worked endlessly under the meticulous genius of a grand cranium. This infinite brainpower will allow these washed-up memories of life and afterlife for eons to come. Memories of my old being sync distinct pictures that won't and can't be forgotten if I recollect each second of it. This is why I think like this often. Who am I thinking to for if I'm alone in the dark? Nobody. I'm talking to you: me. I hate you, I love you, I pity your own miserable existence that doesn't seem to have any semblance to a once presented reality. Let's remember a distant past, to when we- I had a lifetime.

Mama was the best. I wish I could see her again one last time. She was the only one my apathetic spirit truly cared and dare I admit loved. She gave unconditional love when I needed it. Gave me an angelic presence when everyone else cowered away from my deformities without a chance. The last thing I will forget or the only figment of reality to remember if I had to deliberately choose would be the silk, admiring, benevolent voice of her. But she's been gone. Gone much longer than I have. I won't forget nor get over my late mother no matter how much I  hid my mourning in reality. She must hate me for all I've done. I understand this resentment, probably more than herself. She loved a monster that developed into another creature entirely. Mama was too stupid to see redemption in me. Even if she happened to spectate with horror to my actions, growing burning hate for proving her uselessly calming dotings wrong, I will still love her. The unforgiving nature on the planet killed mama. Incurable sickness. Remember crying pathetically over the mortal's corpse? That was the only sign I showed of any humanity at all, wasn't it?

I'm a huge liar. Of course I was a good enough child. We all were until the sinner's sin raised us all high to serve a purpose. There can't be love without hate, and even the most heinous loved something. It is a damaging lie if I were to tell myself I didn't have copious piles dedicated to pure wrathful hatred stacked in the deep crevasses of my undying mind. I am trying to forget this hate firstly. If I forget this, maybe the mental pain would meagerly reduce.

Arale. Arale Norimaki. The World's Strongest. Remember I spent a portion of my finite being trying fruitlessly to best the Android's feats. I succeeded with the seventh attempt. Caramel Man 007. Why did I name my mechanical menaces after sickening sweet candies? Because they made me beam. It was rare such an experience can make even my husk crack vulnerable. A giant robotic marvel. My hard work paid off with my blood and sweat. I had terminated the essence of Arale Norimaki to nothing but the contrary of a headless horseman. I was accomplished for once in my minuscule life. After robot failure after failure, my goal was reached. Then I realize: Arale wasn't my goal. My original destination was world domination, remember? I spent so much time and effort to murder a worthless hunk of metal that I had my hopes and dreams thrown away to the bowels. At least I had satisfaction in finally defeating my one-side rival.

I killed my fourth robotic failure. The one I wanted to call my son. He hates me the most, and I understand. After all, he was the one who sent me to the depths of hell. Inescapable infinitesimal hell. Caramel Man 004. He called himself 'Obotchaman' just to hide away from the past and position of my creation. I pity the innocent soulless machine. Deep down, he was nothing but a vicious robot lurking under the mask of a loving boy fit enough to call my offspring. Unlike mama, I cannot love him for what he had did to me. Sending me to years and years of suffering in the abode of the dead. I won't forgive him. In fact, I hope if I escape my eternal void to hurt him again. He will be reborn to my initial vision as an unstoppable 'gag' monster.

Everyone will not be killed, but tortured and blinded and rebuilt over and over until they truly understand. That would be the only way, wouldn't it? I'm an irredeemable psychopath. Maybe this fate really was meant to be? Ending my conscious would make me free of pain, which they clearly intended to keep me awake forever without any senses. I don't feel anything.

What am I? Who am I? Where am I? How am I? Why am I?

What? I now come together to remember I'm not man nor beast. I'm different from anything else. A cold spirit casted to play a game of time-out forever.

Where? This is the blackhole of the truly damned. The destructed realm that your soul is trapped in forever. The mightiest feline deity cursed my curser's curse with twice the curse. Nebulous particle dust specks. Maybe my incorporeal vessel remains chained in this place? I can't know. 

How? I was born a human. Physically for a portion of my being I was in fact a human, I remember. The true spirit and mind is the only foundation that they should've looked at. Maybe they stared in disgust not at me, but at /me/.

Why? Hell if I know.

Who? I haven't forgotten. I lie to myself too. Do I even need to remind myself? Bring back even more insecurity that I'm unable to comprehend? Are you there? Can you even hear me anymore? You stopped listening to me long ago, haven't you? I hate you.

I'm Mashirito. Dokuta Mashirito.