"Hello, out there, Humanity! If you read the description, then you don't need to know a thing you trash bags. Hahah. This is a story of a fool, hardy human that released me and those of my kind. It's a Legend of love, despair, suspense, depravity, and many words filled with destruction. My favorite. What better person to tell the story than me? Surely not some has-been or the sixteen-year-old snot. Although I am grateful, I don't think he likes my tough love.
Let's get things crazy. Let's help humanity rip off those masks that I love so much and put on shiny ones. Hahaha. This story is about the dolt that is in the chapter's title. At 12 stones, he is a bean-pole with brown eyes, red apple hair, and snow-white skin. A freak of a demon, before he even met me.
Hello, is this the stork? You need to have this mutant on recall, or did the incubator break at a party? Well, Mr. Stork, you might lose your job. You misplaced a human.
So! This freak was wandering around in a hovel for a costume to use at a school gala that night. Somehow, he got a date that wasn't a gorilla. She is attractive by human standards. It might as well be a toad to me. It's too sweet, not enough evil for seasoning. To be grilled at a later page near you, Humanity!
Our wonder lad was looking about as graceful as a bull in a china shop. Drop, break, world destruction from stepping on a butterfly. Well, the shop was utterly deserted with no sign of life, much like my stomach right now, just replace the dust with miasma.
The child of a fool caught sight of a clay box. I think one that even Pandora would love. Ha-ha. The box's curious workmanship depicted a great battle of gods fighting my brethren. Shirou thought they were moving and like a moth was drawn to a flame, opened it.
The contents were a little bronze gong. Cat-brain picked it up and hit it against the box. As a pleasing ring echoed, a heavy thud came from the back, and Shiru put it back on the worm-eaten shelf and looked at the counter with a thick, cold sweat dripping down his back.
It is now my time to shine and let color back into this dull world. Out of the darkness of the shadows that covered the ceiling, my figure dropped and hit the ground. Not one of my more graceful entrances. You try escaping a realm of eternal punishment sometime and send me notice.
After putting myself together and getting to my composer back, I walked to where I felt the presence of the one who freed me was. Looking back, I was a bit out of fashion. In comparison to being seen with, what do you apes call it; bedhead? Though, how would lower life forms understand the thoughts and fashion of the great me?
So, Shirou saw my majestic slender figure leave the back corridor and come to the front of the desk. Something just felt right stopping there. Upon seeing this foolhardy freak be my summoner, I started to howl in my native tongue, sounding like screeching banshees to the unrefined. My dignified self soon gave a new sense of purpose seeing this freak.
My beauty and machismo were expressed in my crow black silk robes, which covered my muscular and pale body. A few millenniums with no sun would turn your skin as pale as marble and the talk of all the fair maidens in the land. My hair was equally as black as the deepest abyss, which sharpened quills to pierce the heavens.
Lastly, my elegant face, which would make the male gods weep and the women scream with envy, was covered by my elegant white mask. I do not need trash to gaze upon me. This mask was blank as the void with a slit for one eye and a diagonal silver line going over the other eye would be. The same principle of eternal nothingness has a silver lining.
I held out my hand in customary greeting. Shirou, the dolt, just used more than a lifetime's worth of good fortune touching the great me. The great I stole a copy of all of his current knowledge to further my plans into motion anew.
This simpleton looked at fabulous I in a wary manner as he took his hand away. Lowering myself just to communicate. How many compromises did I make that day? Did Shirou just wipe its HAND on its pant leg? Just remembering this action fills me with rage. This scum will now be treated less than dirt in the description for the remainder of this current written piece.
It came before me, thinking me to be the owner of this rat hole and willing to pay a price for a mask. Still having some compassion left in my humility, I took out another white mask constructed from an emperor dragon, darkness owl, nine-tailed fox, demon deer, and fire rat bones interlocked together. The eye howls were a triangle and a ring around it, with no hole for the mouth. In truth, it was just the first one grabbed.
The great I was going to tour it around my collection to choose for itself, but the dust has better taste than your lowly race. Wiping its hand, AGAIN!. With this now suffering young trash of a master. My velvety voice is wasted on it. No, things do not get their lines recorded, and the conversation was a wasted effort.
After giving my thanks and pushing the thing out, I wonder about it. I left to learn more about this time of weak apes. So, humanity, I ask you to fall. So many ways and things to do. I might as well enjoy myself; great artisans are hardly ever admired in their time.
