Death. Is Just Forever Sleep. [Completed]

An orange breakfast

Pandorra gave him what he wanted. He asked for a last breakfast, but it was evening.

On a tray is a plate of fried rice and steak. Corn and mushrooms, mashed potatoes and butter. A milk on the left and a half-full orange juice.

It was breakfast. This was the orphanage breakfast.

After that conversation with Pandorra, Percy did not want to live anymore.

It reminded him of Silver. This is what it feels like, he thought. When your soulless eyes gets filled with something, and it disappears. You get tired. You see everything.

I want to sleep. I just want to sleep.

After he finished his food, he stood up. "Don't come out of this room." He told the person in charge of monitoring him. "Stay inside."

Percy went outside his room. Still in white sheets, no shoes. He glanced at the security camera, he knows Pandorra is watching.

"One last time." He wounded himself with a fork. Blood came spitting itself out.

And he smiled. "One last time." He kept repeating it like it was a prayer. Like it was a blessed chant.

He grabbed a fire extinguisher and ran across the hallway. He started smashing everyone's head, eventually slamming them to the ground.

It was a horrifying scene. The white long sleeves he was wearing was turned into a crimson suit.

Pandorra watched him murder everyone. "He's so graceful." She has now accepted what Percy had called her. "Besides, monsters recognizes monsters."

Mr. Night cracked everyone's skull. And one, a patient who tried to stop him, had his throat slitted with a fork.

And the fire extinguisher, the loud thuds were depressing. Those sounds will forever remain on the hallways of Lightsburg.

Nurses, doctors, women. Majority were women. Children who suffered from mental disabilities, or some sort of psychological illness.

They watched the tiled floors flood with the blood of basically everyone. They saw him murder, they saw him kill.

They were fascinated.

–

"Now dead–Percy Night, murdered 67 individuals inside Lightsburg Mental Institute.

After his capture the same day, he went on a killing spree on a cold evening.

The Bureau of Investigation are still looking into the case."

–

That same night.

Percy was a 24-year old college student. Unknown origins, where he was born and where he came from. "He just sort of appeared?" Pandorra was puzzled. No existing record of him exists anywhere.

Pandorra heard a knock. He opened the door that said "Camera Control Room."

Percy was there with a wide smile. "I won, Pandorra."

"What do you mean you won?" Pandorra just keeps on getting more confused by the minute.

"I did not show you anything. No transformation occured."

Pandorra hid her anger. She nodded. "I see. You played me." She fell for it again. She can't believe she fell for it again.

"I told you, it was an instinct." He grabbed her shoulder. "Now I'll be gone. Please take care of my fish for me." Pandorra nodded.

"But you were never wrong. I wanted to be that Lion." Percy added.

Pandorra's anger and frustration have now reached every corner of her body. And to her fingertips, she pointed the gun at his head.

"I know. Now shut up."

Percy lied on the ground. The gunshot was never loud. No blood spilled out of his head.

Pandorra shot him more and more just to make sure he's already dead.

And he is. Percy Night is now dead.

But Pandorra doesn't feel satisfied. It felt wrong.

How can Percy die so satisfied while her, confused? She cannot explain what's going on. The blood, why he did that, why she fell for it, what did he do to his hand.

More and more questions popped into her head when she thought about what happened the past 30 minutes.

She did not understand Percy. She will never understand him.

For her, death is inevitable. She knows that. Everybody knows that.

But for Percy, Death. Is Just Forever Sleep.

End.