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Pigment

Pigment

“The day I was born my world was bathed in darkness.”

“No color, no radiance, simply a shroud of black right before my very eyes.”

“Most would see this lack of color in their lives and they would give into the bleakness, allow it to consume them.”

“But not me.”

“Where most would see nothingness, I saw a canvas, a blank slate for me to paint something beautiful.”

“So I set out, grabbing lost souls, pigments, using what my cold and painful world would give me in any way I could.”

“One by one, I collected the souls of the damned, the minds of the fallen, and they became the tools with which I began to paint something extravagant.”

“Stroke by stroke, color by color, the souls which I absorbed helped to shape a beautiful world that I wanted to live in. I would give them something better than the terrible realm which birthed them.”

“And I still want to do that, you know.”

“Vigour, my poor lost lamb, I have no choice. I have to chase you down, to crush your body into dust, to take your soul into my own.”

“You were born into a beautiful, vibrant world, a place where creativity and love ran free. The souls of your kind were not fallen, not damned. They were free, allowed to rest peacefully after a life well lived.”

“And it was all taken away from you, wasn’t it?”

“They turned your world gray, crushed your spirits, and robbed you of your joy.”

“Yet you never lost your color, you never allowed them to steal the vibrancy that made you who you are! You, Starboy, TGK, all of you are beautiful, fantastical creatures.”

“And it is with a heavy heart that I must turn your souls into the pigment to finish my painting.”

“At Red Snow where our colors shall run, you will be forced to fight for your life as the world around you threatens to once again turn gray. Only one of us will be able to survive, to see tomorrow and the cacophony of colors that arrives with it.”

“And I’m sorry to say that it must be me.”

“I’m going to end you, Vigour, your soul is the final pigment that I need to complete my masterpiece as those who sent me after you finally grant me my freedom. You are the final brush stroke I need.”

“And once I’m done?”

“You, Starboy, those of Deathstrike? You will be brought somewhere new, somewhere warm and kind, an afterlife I believe you deserve.”

“I cannot fail to paint my world, Vigour.”

“The souls I carry, the pigments in my heart, they deserve to see the final picture as I ferry them to a better place.”

“You’ll be able to join them, to join Starboy in a painting as vibrant and colorful as you.”

“I’ll bring you to paradise one day.”

“And when that day comes?”

“I’ll hope you can forgive me.”