...

It's been a long time since I've had a visitor. Old friend.

Well, not really a visitor, I suppose. Maybe more like just a chance meeting, but then, who really believes in chance? I know I don't.

My isolation is to protect others.

I see you are frightened by my appearance, but please, don't let it put you off. It's okay to be afraid, you would probably be mad if you weren't.

I don't particularly like mad people. They tend to try and kill you if they get angry, and I don't like it when I have to kill them to save them from killing me.

There are an awful lot of mad people around these days, but probably nowhere near what there used to be. It's also a lot milder, so I guess that is something to be thankful for.

... I'm sorry, I'm getting off track. I suppose I should really get these feelings off my chest, or else I really am going to go insane, if I haven't already.

It isn't that long, compared to the lonely years I have spent up here wasting the remaining years of my immortal life away.

Don't worry, I can see you have a lot of time with no place to go, so make yourself at home. You look positively awful from standing up and moving around for so long. I doubt you even know or remember your own name.

You poor lost soul.

We immortals have to stick together. Do you remember me?

So why don't you take a seat? After all, I only have one, and it would be rather rude of me to deny my guest with the only seat in the house.

I am your host.

Let me tell you a story.

~

Once upon a time, there was a terrible war between the two dominant species of the world.

On one side were the natural-born humans. On the other, were the demon-spawned Enderians.

The humans fought with their man-made weapons, while the beastly Enderians preferred to use their ungodly powers that came from within them- great balls of fire and acid, their deep purple eyes burning into their opponents souls as they killed them.

Both sides fought for control of the planet- the humans for the sake of their ever-growing population and the need for resources they could not afford to share. The Enderians, on the other hand, for the sake of satisfying their bloodlust and to serve their master under which they served, for the void of a world from which they originated could never be enough for them.

The Enderians numbers were nowhere near as high as the humans, but they were far more powerful and were as strong as a hundred grown men with their massive, hulking bodies as tough as steel but as frail as a humans body in death, but they were alive.

That didn't stop them.

They were the stuff of nightmares.

Being caught by surprise meant certain death.

There is only one way to kill an Enderian.

But an Enderians heart is made of stone.

They are cruel, they are cold, and they are ruthless.

But they are not invincible.

Humans do try hard when they are threatened. They fight mercilessly when they feel it is what is right. They fight dirty. I saw them kill their fair share of Enderians. I've also seen them kill each other time and time again, both before and after the war.

The war that lasted only a day because of the way it ended.

Needless to say, it wouldn't be the humans walking away alive from that battle, the fresh smell of victory surrounding them- no, it would be the smell of burning corpses that would linger on the battlefield, for a long, long time as they rotted, and the Enderians would just look back at that fateful evening and laugh as they recounted how the humans had all been slaughtered before them.

Or at least, that's probably what they would have done if they actually had won the war.

For neither of the two rivalling races could have ever possibly foreseen how the war would actually end, nor who would end it.

In the centre of the battlefield was a man, a man with more blood on his hands than anyone else whether they be human or Enderian, and that man was me.

Neither human nor Enderian. An experiment gone wrong.

My creators weren't human or Enderian. They didn't understand the woes of others.

They never should have created me.

I killed my own creators and fled.

I didn't approve of killing. Still don't, but I still do it. I did a lot of it back then too, but I kept telling myself as I do now, it's all for the greater good.

That isn't to say it still didn't feel right.

New to the world. The killing must end, but it can only end with more killing.

The vicious circle.

I stumbled upon the war by chance.

I decided that it must end. All the killing was pointless. Couldn't we all just get along? I just didn't see the point of it.

I decided to stop that war. I wanted it to end in peace.

But I was and am not a creature of peace. Killing was all I knew how to do.

I stopped that war. I won't say exactly how I did it, or why I did it in such fashion when I could have easily have done it without have shedding so much blood- but they needed to be taught a lesson, or so I felt back then.

I would do anything now to go back and change what I did then. I was so easy, what I did. A simple flick of my blackened hand.

The dirt of the battlefield ran red with blood. Eventually it soaked into the ground.

They say that over the thousands of years that have passed since then, the meadow now glows green and blue and the most beautiful shades of red from the flowers it grows.

After all, it was planted over a graveyard.

~

...

I apologize for my tears.

I... hate... killing.

What is the point of taking someone's life?

To further our own?

For our own satisfaction, to satisfy our natural bloodlust?

You...

Friend...

...

I understand why you came here now.

You really do remember me.

You have come here to kill me, eh?

Well, get it over and done with then.

A knife is drawn, and my life will end.

Maybe I will be reborn in another life, who knows?

I was getting bored of this one anyway.

~

Life One Terminated

Death: Knife through heart

A/N I would really appreciate feedback on this new idea. Let me know what you think in the comments, anything I could do to improve, what you would like to see, any character ideas, what you liked about this, what you would like to see more of, etc.

I do however have a pretty sturdy idea of how long it's going to be and the major plot mechanic- Nine Lives. Whoever's lives they are remains to be seen.

I would also extremely appreciate it if someone could make a cover for this story since I can't myself. I can't draw very well other than penguins, chickens and Freddy Fazbear and friends.

So if you could make a cover for the book and send it to me, I would love you forever.

Plzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Any covers that don't become the cover will be shown over the chapters.

And yes, this is a RejectedShotgun fanfiction.

Of sorts.

Whee.