How much time has passed already...?
I... don't feel like my body is changing. I don't feel like I'm older. I feel the same as always; like me...
But...am I me...? Am I Battler...? Or... am I someone different..?
I... don't know...
I'm supposed to be Ushiromiya Battler. That's what they said. I'm supposed to kill my family countless times because of my own hatred and greed. Because... my family don't deserve to live.
Or maybe I have to kill them because... they want to see them dying.
But do I?
Why are there so many questions and no answers...? I-I... already forgot who I am...!
Battler was standing before a mirror, looking directly at himself.
He saw it.
His scarlet red hair. Where did he get that from? His red eyes with cat-like pupils. Was he really a cat or something? His pale skin. He was no different from the people he had killed. He looked like he was dead. Maybe it was just part of his "image".
But he hated it.
Gently, his hand touched the mirror. The glass was cold; really cold. Just like him. His body temperature was too low for a human... way too low.
How he was supposed to be alive like that?
Was he a human or... a monster...?
That was what they called him. Monster. Monster in human skin. But he was human... He was just doing what he was told. Killing the Ushiromiyas, his family, for the theatergoing witches' entertaiment.
What were those witches feeling, anyway? Were they happy to watch something so disgusting? He couldn't understand it.
He asked them, "Why you are laughing? Did I do something funny?"
And they answered: "You are so sweet, small piece. When the blood flows around, when people are screaming, and you're laughing with us... How do you feel then?"
They patted his head. He was like dog to them. If he tried to bark, he got scolded. If he tried to bite, he was tortured until he was squeaking from pain. Until he was begging for foregivness. It was so pathetic.
He looked so pathetic that time!
Being closed in his "dog house" waiting for next game was hard for him. He was alone there. In the darkness, he seethed with hated.
His old man always used to tease him when he was a kid, on Rokkenjima, "In the darkness Beatrice is going to get you..."
Once, when he was younger, Battler found himself trapped in a closed room alone. He was so scared... He cried for help, but nobody heard; not until darkness disapeared and morning had risen.
Not until they opened that damned door and found him hidden under the sheets, sleeping.
His "dog house" now was different. It didn't have doors. It didn't even have windows. Nobody would save him. It was really dark there, and silent... The only thing that made sounds were the silver chains. When he touched one the room filled with ringing.
If a child is alone and scared it can just hug small plush bear or a soft toy. That makes the lonliness go away. But he didn't have that luxury.
If he was feeling alone, all he had was the chains.
A hypnotizing melody of ringing filled his ears, making him feel sleepy. It was... a little like a lullaby...
Was it making him... feel calm... ...?
He was just curious child who wanted to know about the world. But he couldn't do that. He needed to fulfil the orders of the Theatergoing witches. His only task was to entertain them until they got bored.
They weren't interested in his feelings.
What did he feel, anyway?
What did he feel when he strangled Shannon in front of George's eyes?
She begged for forgivness even as her eyes went dulls. Tears slowly fell from the corners of her eyes until her breathing stopped. When he looked at George's panicked face, he felt... ... pain.
Why?
When he smashed George's face to pieces using garden tools, hot blood stained his white clothes.
When he told his father "I am the culprit", Rudolf begged him to stop. He didn't. Insetad, he filled that old man's head with bullets from Kinzo's Winchester. Rudolf's body fell to the ground, his blood stickily leaking into the soil of the rose garden.
Somehow, the roses looked redder after that. Maybe it was his imagination.
Raindrops were running down on his skin. But why did they feel hot..? Rain was supposed to be cold.
When he hugged Natsuhi-obaasan, he was smiling like the devil.
"It's ok Natsuhi-obaasan...We will catch the culprit who killed Jessica-chan... "
Like hell they would.
Who had killed Jessica?
He had.
He killed Jessica and made her body into a mess. Her insides covered her room, and her stinking blood was splattered everywhere. On the floor. The walls. His hands.
His clothes were already stained with so much blood. Too much. They were heavy. Just like his mind.
He was beginning to lose his mind. He was just obeying orders from the witches. But his mind was already at the end of madness.
He hated this feeling.
He hated killing them all as someone's piece.
His hands clenched against the cool surface of the mirror.
Why he was living here... in this "dog house"! Why he was living as someone's plaything? What the point in being alive at all like that? He didn't want it! He didn't want to!
Then...
...
...Maybe he should kill himself...?
No.
That would be even more pathetic. Those witches would definitely bring him back to life again. They wouldn't forgive him for that. They would torture him for rebelling.
Then again, sometimes they tortured him for no reason at all.
He hated their tortures.
They treated him like a toy.
"Come here Battler~ I have dog cookie for you~ Look it's shaped like your favorite plaything... ... BONES."
He was just their dog.
But...
He'd had enough.
He wanted to experience a time where he could be happy on the gameboard... Where he played with his cousins... Where everybody smiled.
Where he was happy.
But his hopes were always crushed. The witches had no mercy.
"Now sweetie...Now it's time. Do whatever you need to entertain us! "
And the massacre started again.
He was killing, murdering, smashing, shooting, cutting, ripping, tearing...!
Hearing their laugh. All time he heard it.
*giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle*
*giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle*
*giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle*
*giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle**giggle*
He was killing, killing until they stopped laughing.
As he looked at mirror, his eyes went wide.
Blood.
So much blood. On his hands. On his clothes. On his face...!
He didn't wanted to see it. No more blood...
No more!
This wasn't what he wanted!
He punched mirror until it fell from it's frame. The glass shards exploded round his clenched fist; brittle, easily broken. His hand hurt- it hurt so much. Stupid thing to do, really.
He looked at his hand in wonder.
Sharp mirror pieces were sticking into his skin, making him bleed.
He bit his lip.
It hurt like hell.
Maybe that was why he fell to his knees.
He was still so weak, riddled with... all these... ugly humanish feelings.
If he wanted to be powerful, he'd have to get rid of them.
He had to.
He had to get rid of all human feelings or his conscience would eat him up. He didn't want to make people suffer for someone's sake- not anymore. To survive... to remain sane... He... had to make them suffer for himself. Nobody else. For his own entertainment.
Kill everybody because he wanted to.
Yes...
Then it wouldn't hurt so much.
Then... it might be fun.
Kill them, kill them all- play with them until HE was bored! And...he would do it because he wanted to. Not because those witches did.
Ha... ahahaha... ...
From his mouth, a small giggle escaped.
He felt hot tears running down his cheeks.
He would not take anymore of those witches' abuse. He was not their dog.
He wasn't even a human.
Human Ushiromiya Battler must disapear. He must disapear to make place for someone more powerful...More dreadful...for...
Black Battler. The Sorcerer.
- aha...Ahaa..ahahah...Haah...
Yes... Sorcerer Battler. He would... become the one who he hated...
MAGICIAN.
His laugh filled the chained room. It sounded like the chains were laughing, too.
*ring ring*
That sound was the last that many of the proud Theathergoing witches heard.
As he stepped on their bodies and their scattered insides, the chain round his neck was still ringing.
*ring ring*
He was not their dog anymore.
*ring ring*
He was now someone more powerful...
*ring ring*
He was Black Battler. The monster without soul. Without emotions.
Without...
A Conscience.
That fiction is explaning why Black Battler is like he is. That's really bad Ryukishi didn't gave him backstory. I mean he just "is". But for us fans it's somehow fun to create headcanons for him.
Thanks to Renahh-chen for corrections! 3