A concept I decided to jump into from a roleplay, since I felt I was being a bit vague.
Here's the story behind a roleplay response I had written.
SammyCrystalHeart

I hope you enjoy...
Oui, the character is Zacharie. I'm not sure why, but I just... headcannon him as an angel. Wings, ig

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THIS WILL HAVE HEAVY CONTENT, SUCH A MURDER AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.

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I'm not sure where I got the painkillers from all those years ago.
Turning the bottle over in my hand, there was no writing to tell me who owned them, why they were given, or what to do. There was only ' Painkillers ' written on the side in smudged sharpie. Did I write that? I couldn't recall.

I was in a new universe, checking out the Zone Three. The Batter would have only just started his mission, I had more then enough time to explore. From what I heard, maybe they had made them.
Upon arrival, I found myself with a doctor of sorts. He was going on about some pill made of sugar.. sounded like it worked miracles, but I wasn't quite paying attention once my eyes settled on him.

A man with a peach skin tone and black hair was chatting with the Elsen there... so casually. Like he wasn't different. They didn't mind him, and he was even dressed like one of them. Pushing the doctor to the side, I went over to check this out.

His name was Michael, or so he told me.
He wasn't from this place,  or, well, OFF. Entirely human, he was one of the puppeteers who appeared in the game one day.
He told me of his life out there. The realities of divorce, stress, coming out, and everything in between. He fell in love with someone he knew only online, but they made it work. They've met face-to-face, gone public about how they feel, and even if people didn't support them, others would.

I felt... happy for him. As he rambled on about how much he loved his boyfriend, this happiness turned to... pity.
He was stuck here. Hardly anybody managed to leave this place, and mostly never alive.
I wanted to tell him he'd never see his love again.
I couldn't.

After a meeting with a purifier trio and a puppeteer, I went to visit him.
Today, I'd tell him. I was bound to at some point, and he deserved to know.

" Hey Zach!" He smiled at me as I walked over. " Care to join me? I'm getting some paperwork for a friend."
" Oh, okay." I joined his side, and together, we walked.
After a while of silence, I gave a sigh. " Listen man, I-"
" I know."
"... You do?"
" I don't blame you. A human shouldn't be with Elsen, let alone try to be one. It's bound to fail, cause they burn, and all that sugar and stuff... it's kinda wierd. Yeah, I've been earning their favor by giving away mine, but it's just not right. It's like their addicted to it."
" Oh.... yeah, yeah, Elsen are wierd." I quickly went through my pockets. I found a something rolled up to about the size of a cigarette. Thank Martin he made it canon for me to do this. I lit it up and took a long drag from it. " Hope you don't mind."
" Nah, people smoke around me all the time. Got another?"
"... Dude. It's weed. Can't you guys get high or something stupid? "
" What, you can't?"
I gave a chuckle. " Have I even tried?"

"... Michael?"
He had finally found the right too, and gotten the right files he needed. God, this hallway seemed endless.
Endless.. endless hallway... oh..
Oh no.
" Michael, we need to go. Now." I pulled him foward, and he dropped the papers.
" Wh- dude! What the hell? I know you're '' under the influence '' n all, but shouldn't that make you chill?!" He pulled himself away, getting on his knees to collect the paperwork.
" No, you don't understand, this place isn't-"
I looked down the hallway. That scientist from eariler.. what was he doing here? Was he lost as well? Didn't he know this place was dangerous? There were sugar deprived Elsen driven insane, surely he'd-
I saw it when he was closer. The absent smile on his face, the twitching his body did all too often, the empty look in his eyes.
He was one of them.

" Michael. Now. Just... no sudden movements, you'll alert him."
" Alert wh-" He stood up and turned to face the scientist. " Oh, hey Reno! How ya doing?"
The scientist didn't respond, staring at him silently.
" Here, I brought something for you! You've stopped coming to lunch, I was getting concerned.." He gave the scientist a small bag. A bag of sugar.
" I.. I... oh... haha... I'm.... thank you.. hhhhahh... I'm... not allowed to have this anymore.. not matter how much it hurts me... but I'll take it, yes.."
" No problem!"
There was NO way in HELL this guy could just casually make a deprived Elsen calm.
" It... it's just... I'm not allowed to have this, yknow...?? M-my... the director would get mad if he found out... surely you understand..."
" Oh, no worries, I won't tell a soul!
" I'd reaally like to believe that.. but... it.. it's too loud in my head, it's too loud.... all the worry... it's strong. Very strong. I don't want the two of us to get in trouble.... I've got to do this, you must understand... come... come close.."
Michael nodded, drawing close to this lunatic. " Do you need to tell me something?"
From the doctor's neck, a darkness moved and formed a head.
"... You're being let go. Goodbye."
I reached for my sword later than I should have.

His body hit the floor, dead.
How'd I know he was dead? I mean, you couldn't function without a head.
I drew my blade, slashing at this Pastel Burnt who clearly didn't have morals.
Enough cuts, and it fell to its knees, a shaky smile on its true face.
" ... To think... I was getting promoted soon..."
When I lowered the sword again, it was dead.
I stood in complete silence, staring at the dead bodies. My grip tightened on the hilt of my blade.
I felt tears sting my eyes, and I fell to the ground, sobbing.
He was dead. The person I came to protect from death had succumbed to it. The man with a better life out there, a life with someone he cared for, was dead.

I'm not sure where I got the painkillers from all those years ago.
Turning the bottle over in my hand, there was no writing to tell me who owned them, why they were given, or what to do. There was only ' Painkillers ' written on the side in smudged sharpie. Did I write that? I couldn't recall.

Popping open the container, it didn't really matter anymore. I counted one, two.. oh fuck it. Making sure to drop one in the lid, I simply poured all of the remaining ones into my mouth.
I gagged, they tasted like some kind of chalk, but I didn't care to spit them out.
I was... tired..
Everything seemed like it was spinning.
I smiled. This was good.
I gave a hard cough, and when I went to cover my mouth, I found blood on my hands, dripping down my chin and onto my shirt.
That was okay.
I closed the container, listening to the last one get tossed around without the others.
They wouldn't hurt me, nothing ever did.
Hundreds of years and I've never died.

Sometimes I feel like I'm trying a bit too hard to do so.

1300 words
It's like five in the morning and I'm feeling ANGST