Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ A Sinner’s Masquerade ❯ First Divide: The Mask Of Resentment ( Chapter 1 )

Uh, hi-hi. o.0 *Doesn't know what to say*

 

I actually have a number of stories written, someone had pointed out before that this one was unique, seeing how I'm writing from the `bad guy's' Point Of View. I just wanted to see if she was right… *Spazzes* I'm new here btw, so don't kill me if I did something wrong. Dx

 

So, uh, enjoy…?

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First Divide: The Mask Of Resentment

I staggered through the verdant fields of Verte, clutching firmly onto my right arm. Damn it, which was the idiotic prick that said `third time's the charm…?' Whoever he is, he should have a death wish…

My breath became heavy as I dropped to my knees; small beads of sweat saturated my cheekbones. I rested my back on the stump of the tree next to me and stuck out both of my feet in a casual manner, tucking my hands behind my head; letting my mind wander the surroundings, and forgetting the dreadful day I had had.

The sweet, angel-breath like smell of morning dew still lingered among the blades of grass even though it was nearly evening. I stared onto the horizon; the sky was painted with vivid shades of gingery pinks and yellows and dim blues and purples; the sun still peering behind the faded clouds while the stars shone vibrantly above the heavens. The only sounds that could be heard was the soft rustle of leaves as the wind blew against the trees and the calm chirping of crickets. This, this was my sanctuary.

I sighed in relief; I loved this place more than anything. But the only time I could marvel at such scenery was early in the mornings or at the peek of dusk, during the twilight hour of course. Twilight was definitely my most favourite time of the day, it made me relaxed, and I guess at the same time it made me frown in frustration. Twilight was the symbol of another day at its end, to me, it meant another day with him still alive and breathing.

 

The warm feeling that twilight presented me with finally faded as a snarl escaped my lips, I arched my eyebrows slightly as, a somber look masked over my tranquil one. I wiping the sweat and dried blood off my brow, I drifted off into wonder for a moment.

This had been the third time one of my remarkable plans has failed. That brat, what was his name again…? Hmm, oh yes, Atticus. He always seemed to be a step ahead of me no matter what.

No matter how many times I attempted to kill that Atticus, he always ended up winning, leaving me in serious wounds on the pavement. Good thing my injuries this time weren't too bad; a few scratches, gashes, and bruises here and there. Anyway, I've tried trickery, taunting, and NOTHING seemed to work so far.

Who is Atticus and why do I want him dead you ask? Atticus is my fowl, putrid, `brother.' I don't even know why I even waste my time calling him `brother,' he does not deserve such praise.

Mother, and father always loved him more, and it seemed they weren't afraid to show it. I guess you can say my heart had been engulfed with by jealousy for him ever since childhood; and I'm not too egotistical to admit it. My parents treated me as just some random, unknown person who just happened to live with them instead of a young child who only wanted to be loved by his parents. Heck, they even had forgotten my name at times. I want to see him fall to his knees in pain and beg for mercy. I wanted to stomp all over his grave and laugh at his tombstone. To draw the line, I wanted him dead and out of my life. Hands down.

I continued to reminisce, clutching my fist so hard that my knuckles had become white; blood seeping through the white bandages that were wrapped around my coarse palm. I could hardly feel the mild pain the wounds had given me. All I could feel now was the numbing cold of my abhorrence.

Some of you would think, `Why would you be wasting your time like this? What are you trying to prove?' Simple, I wanted to prove I'm better. Everyday of my damn life, I had worked my heart out, training and studying, attempting to show that I was the better child. But they never paid attention to me…

When I won a ribbon, Atticus won a trophy. When I got an `A' on a test, Atticus got an `A+.' Like I said before, he was always one step ahead of me, ever since birth.

I quickly snapped out of my thoughts, my body stiffened as I heard a familiar voice. I shifted my gaze from behind the tree.

What coincidence? There was Atticus, walking steadily with his fists balled, trailing behind a girl. Interesting… I wrinkled my nose and continued to watch, fixing my eyes on the lass.

She was a fair looking maiden, about a couple of inches shorter than the average teen with a pixie-like stature. Short, red hair that seemed to curl slightly at the ends; dark crimson eyes filled with… What is this…? Annoyance…? Then it hit me, was this a one sided love…?

“Piss off already!” The girl fumed, stomping away.

“F-Fay, can you just hear me out?” Atticus plead, grabbing her wrist firmly.

I covered my mouth, it was so hard to not laugh at this scene; I watched as the girl fixed her eyes on his foot.

STOMP

“Ow! My foot!”

I choked on my laughter. How entertaining this was, all the pain in my body that once was coldness turned into lively joy. The girl that Atticus had addressed as `Fay' took off like a rocket, taking her chance and her ran as far away from Atticus as she could, I was amazed by her speed. She was quite fast for someone her size. Atticus quickly regained his posture and followed her, calling out her name.

I chuckled sadistically; as I made sure Atticus was gone. My head stared up into the velvety night sky, as if the heavens had just blessed me.

 

I beamed my infamous crooked smile.

All this time I was trying to kill him physically, but where's the fun in that?

 

I couldn't believe I never thought of it before.

 

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I'll write chapter two if I feel like it.

If you want to encourage me somehow, leave a comment or something. *shrugs*

 

-Yun