Rxls at 12:33, 9 March 2019

2019-03-09T12:33:09Z

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			==Chapter 5 - Floor B3==

	[[Image:Satsuten_v1_158.jpg\|thumb]]		[[Image:Satsuten_v1_158.jpg\|thumb]]

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	In a hollow world that doesn’t contain even despair, Zack faintly hears Ray pleadingly calling his name.		In a hollow world that doesn’t contain even despair, Zack faintly hears Ray pleadingly calling his name.

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Jam at 00:18, 8 March 2019

2019-03-08T00:18:35Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 00:18, 8 March 2019
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	In a hollow world that doesn’t contain even despair, Zack faintly hears Ray pleadingly calling his name.		In a hollow world that doesn’t contain even despair, Zack faintly hears Ray pleadingly calling his name.

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			\| Back to [[Satsuriku_no_Tenshi:Volume_1_Chapter_4\| Chapter 4]]
			\| Return to [[Satsuriku no Tenshi\|Main Page]]
			\| Forward to [[Satsuriku no Tenshi:Volume_1_Chapter_6\|Chapter 6]]
			\|-
			\|}
			</noinclude>

Jam at 00:16, 8 March 2019

2019-03-08T00:16:41Z

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Jam at 00:12, 8 March 2019

2019-03-08T00:12:01Z

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Jam at 00:05, 8 March 2019

2019-03-08T00:05:05Z

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Jam at 23:54, 7 March 2019

2019-03-07T23:54:56Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:54, 7 March 2019
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	[[Image:Satsuten_v1_249.jpg\|thumb]]		[[Image:Satsuten_v1_249.jpg\|thumb]]

	~~text~~		Zack glances at her. His expression – as if abandoning something, or perhaps having been abandoned – looks as if it hides all the sorrow he has ever experienced in his life until now.

			He rolls up his sleeve and stabs both the syringes into his skin. The liquids seep into his body. Before long, the syringes are completely empty, and the next door opens.

			“It’s open. Let’s go.” He walks forward calmly. It appears the drugs haven’t taken effect yet.

			“Okay…”

			Ray stares at his back as if deep in prayer.

			▲▽

			A hallway stretches out beyond the door. Zack walks at a quick pace, as if to pull Ray along. However, perhaps because of the drugs, the hallway seems to continue forever. He can’t see the end.

			(…Shit. Everything’s spinning.)

			''My head feels like it’s gonna burst open.''

			He’s also attacked by a terrible vertigo that makes him unable to stand. He can’t help but crouch down on the ground.

			(Ugh, what is this…)

			White noise streaks his vision, along with an awful sound, like the rain from that night.

			And, as if in continuation of that dream, he clearly sees what else had transpired.

			▲▽

			…''This is what happened that day.'' When I killed the couple at the institution, when I buried the dead kid’s body in the garden. I think he was three years younger than me, but I don’t remember very well.

			The first hole I dug, I uncovered what looked like a baby. It had been buried a few weeks ago. It was in my way, so I went to dig a new hole. I don’t know how many kids I buried like this.

			And that day, it was raining. It rained all night, a rain so strong it would have been meaningless to even have an umbrella.

			Because of that, the muddy dirt was easy to uncover. But the corpse crumbled easily, and it took some time to bury properly. I always did things like this late at night.

			There was not even a speck of light. The ground in front of me was pitch-black. And because of the harsh rain, I was soaking wet and covered in mud that day.

			I hated the feeling of my bandages being wet. It was disgusting. But I had no spare ones to change to. So my bandages always reeked.

			Come to think of it, I hadn’t taken a bath in a long time. I can’t even remember the last time I did. I didn’t care much, but I did think it would be nice to take a bath after burying corpses. I hated the rotten smell on my hands after I touched them. I felt like my hands, and the rest of my body, might rot away too.

			(Eugh…)

			Nearly overcome by nausea, covered in mud, I returned to the institution.

			It was strangely quiet. Peering into the bedroom from the living room, I saw that the couple were already sleep. I felt just a little bit disappointed. After burying bodies, the woman always secretly hid leftovers of food away. She disliked burying bodies so much that she would make sure a monster like me was kept alive. What a selfish bitch.

			(I’m hungry…)

			I held a hand over my stomach as I searched the room for something to eat – like a fallen bag of chips or something. That day, there wasn’t any. The living room wasn’t especially clean. Probably because no one took the trouble of doing it. Clothes, magazines, and trash were scattered everywhere. They were all the couple’s belongings.

			On the shelves were various toys for children, all brand-new, as if put there for decorations. They didn’t appear to be used. And there was no need for toys in a place like that.

			After all, there were no more children there. I was – the last – person. But those people were incorrigible. They would likely take more children for money, as well. And, they would be given nothing, die of starvation, and end up getting buried by me.

			I was the only one who didn’t die. The couple called me a “monster”. I was called that likely not only because of my creepy appearance, but also because I just didn’t die. Though there were times I stole bags of candy or chips, one time, in intervals of about three weeks, I got leftovers. It took about that long for the new kids to die, too. I guess the couple probably didn’t understand why I didn’t drop dead. Even I didn’t. But it’s annoying to think about that.

			(Haah?)

			As I emitted a sigh that mixed with the sound of rain outside, I suddenly noticed a faint gleam of something.

			(What’s that?)

			It was a light from the television in the living room. It was on. Not thinking of anything in particular, I sat down in front of the TV, as if drawn in by the light. It was only on when the couple were up. And most of the time, while they were up, I was crouched down on the floor upstairs, in the storage room. I had heard the TV sometimes, but never seen what was on it.

			(The television, huh…)

			I became curious about this thing I had never seen before.

			But because it was late at night, there was nothing on it. Not really knowing anything about how it worked, I tried pressing one of the buttons. Then, something happened.

			It was probably – a bit of an old movie. It was the first time I’d ever seen one.

			On the TV, there was a couple – a man and a woman – laughing happily. I had no idea what was supposed to be so funny.

			(It’s kind of boring…)

			I thought of turning it off. I hated people who looked happy. But at that moment, a grotesque-looking man – his skin slowly peeling off his entire body – appeared before the couple. He looked like a monster. And then, the ugly man turned toward the woman’s boyfriend. Brandishing a hatchet, he stabbed him over and over and over – without an ounce of hesitation. And killed him. Dark reddish blood scattered across the screen. It looked as if it would splatter out onto the ground in front of me.

			The woman stared at the ugly man and called him a monster. Her expression was full of despair – as if the happiness she had experienced moments before had been nothing but a lie.

			The ugly man mercilessly stabbed the woman in the head. The screen split between the pale face of the dead man, and the face of the ugly man, whose mouth was so wide with laughter it seemed like his face might tear into two. It was an exhilarating scene, one that enthralled me.

			''Thump, thump.''

			''Thump thump.''

			''Thump thump thump.''

			I don’t know if my heart had been moving until that moment. But then – then it felt like it wouldn’t ever stop its desperate thrumming.

			(…Aah…that’s right…)

			And that’s when I finally realised –


			''…This is what I should do.''


			te