Elysian

[1]

Am I allowed to love someone this much? Is it too extreme? Too.. deadly?

If he knew what I was doing for him.. would he be happy or disgusted? What if he cut me off? I couldn't live like that. I can't live without him. That's why I have to do whatever it takes to keep him.

The things I do for Shoto Todoroki are illegal. Frowned upon. Probably insane. But I don't care. As long as I can keep him.. as long as I can touch him.. can have him.. I don't care. I'll do whatever it takes.

Speaking of Todoroki.. here comes Momo. God, I really don't want to do this. I love her, and she's a really good person. But, like I said, I'll do whatever it takes. I'll eliminate anything that stands between me and my precious Shoto. And that thing.. happens to be her.

"You're late. But it's okay, because you're here now!" I say, trying my best to act like my normal, cheerful self. She sighs, as she looks down at me.

She smiles sweetly. Ugh, stop that. It's just making this a thousand times harder. "Yeah, sorry about that, why did you call me here, anyway? What's going on, Midoriya?" She questions.

I shrug, hesitating even though I've rehearsed this whole conversation a million times over in my head. "Well, it's important. And sorry it's such a creepy place.. I just don't want to be heard. Are you 100% positive nobody followed you here?" My once cheerful voice echoes in the dark, abandoned alleyway.

She nods, turning around. "It's fine. Even though this place gives me chills, if it's something really important I understand."

Stop that.

Just stop.

Stop being so goddamn nice.

My eyesight goes blurry as hot tears pool my eyes. I don't want her to see, so I quickly blink them away. I don't think she an see more than the outline of my body, but I'm just taking precautions. I sigh and step to the side. "Erm.. you have to go in front of me to see it.."

She tilts her head in obvious confusion. The streetlights making her silhouette glow on the edges. She pauses for another moment before asking meekly, "is it a.. dead animal? Or.. person? What is it, just tell me already."

I suck in a shaky breath. It will be. I think. "I can't. You just have to look at it," I say.

She nods. I can tell, even through the extreme darkness. It has to be around midnight at the most. She moves forward. Her soft slippers sliding on the cold ground with every uneasy step she takes. I cannot believe I'm doing this. But, enough is enough. I can't let her get away with it for any longer. The more time she spends with Shoto, the bigger the chance of him liking her grows.

When she's in front of me, I slowly, quietly, and stealthily slide out my shiny knife. Only a few hours ago I was sitting at home, sharpening it, while thinking of all the possible ways I can kill Momo.

Thankfully, she doesn't hear it, and she bends down a little to try and see what I was trying to show her. I slip my gloves on quickly, and as silently as I can and I cover her tiny mouth. She jumps and lets out a shocked whimper.

I quickly aim my knife at her back. The knife empaling her makes a squelching sound, and it plays in my head over and over again, even hours after Momo's gruesome death.

Her muffled scream vibrates my shaky hand, but slowly dies down, along with her. I drag the knife down, blood drenching her clothes and dripping onto the floor. I drag and drag, creating a long, bloody line in the left side of her back.

Its funny. Before I plunged that knife into her back, before she took her last breath and I was the reason, I was terrified. I thought, what monster would ever do this?

But when I actually did it, a wave of need washed over me. The beed to go beyond. Plus ultra..

I pulled the bloodied knife out of her back and let her fall to the asphalt covered in her own blood. I grabbed the knife with both hands and readjusted my no-longer shaky grip, and Plunged it right back into her. Again, and again. 28 times, to be exact.

By the time I was finished, I was soaked in blood, tired, and really, really wanting to go home. I took my shoes off before I took another step, letting the blood pool over the footprints. I'm not getting caught. No matter what, I can't get caught.

My socks were soaked now, but that didn't matter. I took one foot off the ground, took that sock off, and stepped away from the blood, repeating with the other foot. Since there was still blood on my feet, I took the water bottle from my backpack and replaced it with my bloodied socks. I poured the water over my feet and on the floor, cleaning off all of the blood.

I slid the knife into my bag, not caring about the blood at the moment.

I just had to get out of there.

I had to get away from what I'd done.