31_days | [Oct 22][Gundam Wing] In Death

Title: In Death

Day/Theme: October 22, 2008 ~ the killer in me

Series: Gundam Wing

Character/Pairing: Duo Maxwell

Rating: PG-13 for disturbing…. stuff

~*~

He’d never had a family, for as long as he could remember. Life had never been easy. He’d grown up on the streets from the time he was a baby.

He never considered it a miracle that he survived the plagues and the violence on the streets of L2. He knew that from the day he was born, he’d been marked by Death.

He was seven when the first of the really big plagues swept through the slums of L2. Although most of the gang he’d been running with at the time died, he’d never gotten sick. Even when Solo had taken ill, he’d never sniffled. He’d wondered for the first time, then, when Solo died in his arms, why Death chose to spare him and took so many of those around him.

When he was ten, he was taken in by the Maxwell Church Orphanage. When he was ten and a half, the perpetual wars had intruded again, cutting down Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, and somehow sparing him again. As he ran away with Sister Helen’s cross clutched in his fist, he’d wondered again if maybe Death was taking those lives in payment for sparing his again.

When he was thirteen, he’d snuck on board a Sweeper ship, and gotten caught.

No one had died then, but he found the love of his life, and that was more than enough.

From then on, he accepted that he had a purpose. He knew why Death had spared him before, and he knew that he had to keep killing, or maybe the next life Death decided to take would be his. Deathscythe was his alter, OZ his sacrifice. He had no reason to live, except to kill so that he could continue living.

When he was fifteen, he realized there were others like him. Like him, but not like him. They had their reasons, they were all killers, but not like him. Heero came close, but in the end, he killed to kill, killed so others could live.

Deathscythe’s pilot was different. He didn’t know, didn’t care who he really was anymore. He killed to keep living, but the only time he ever really felt alive was when he was strapped into that cockpit, killing. Blood was his elixir, explosions his heartbeat. When he wasn’t flying, he didn’t feel quite real.

Death had marked him long ago, but now, now he had become Death, there was no difference anymore.

Maybe someday he’d stop running, stop killing, let the scythe turn on him and burn him in all the glory that he so often gave to others.

Someday.

But tonight, today, tomorrow, he flew, and purple eyes gleamed in Death.

A/N: Sorry if the timeline is slightly off, I don’t have Episode Zero on hand and I’m too lazy to look anything up. ^^