MONSTER!! - A Tale Of Darkness

A Garden Of Wilting Morals

Luigi finally saw streetlights. It had been days, no, weeks, since he left home that horrid night. Luigi ate very little. He appeared far thinner, clothing hanging from his figure more loosely now. Checking to see if the coast was clear of watching eyes, he ran back into the safety of his house, moving faster than he ever remembered moving. He shut the door, locking it.
-"Isn't it nice to be somewhere nobody can hurt you?"-
The voice said. It never left him, staying in the back of his head. He knew it was only in his head, but that didn't stop him from replying aloud, "...it is..." He trudged to his room, changed into something softer, more comfortable, returned to the living room, and collapsed in a chair. The scene of the toad's death flickered in the back of his mind, but he was growing desensitized to it. He'd been dealing with the same thought for a long time. He reached for the remote control and turned the television on. He clicked through a few channels until he found one. The narrator talked on and on about dryads and other nymphs throughout mythology, with numerous interviews. It was a rather interesting program. Funny how he only found it today. It was nice to have something different to think about.
Over time, Luigi became quieter and more used to being alone to his thoughts, or on occasion, the voice or the mythology program. When he got the strength to, he'd play with Polterpup, but the canine spirit most often curled up with his owner on the couch, wondering what had gotten into him, but not wanting to try to pressure him, if he even could. The phantom even went out, often at dusk, to bring newspapers and mail to him when it comes, like he knew Luigi wished to stay inside, away from the eyes of the world.
Often, Polterpup alerted him of when others are around, so Luigi can hide any evidence that he were there. And then he sat where he hid, left to the heavy silence of his thoughts once more.
His physical condition changed noticeably. He kept up his ghastly skeletal form, but it got only worse. His hair grew out until it reached past his waist. His eye, as well as his empty socket, appeared to have sunk in a bit. However, he kept the decency to at least keep personal hygiene up.
Morbid curiosity kept alongside him like a cat onto a mouse. He's grown so used to the murder he caused, and it was a mere mistake. Could he handle such a situation if he caused it on purpose? No, he shouldn't, he wouldn't want that on his conscious... but the thought kept on him, and the voice encouraged it. Over time, he could no longer control the urge.