~~~ The Tale Of The Indigo Butterfly~~~
Once, I was like most - a human. A child, a novice in life. Despite my cheerful and healthy look on the outside, the tragic life I had, had scarred me from the inside, leaving my feelings to decay. I have never reached the blissful age of adulthood, for my human life ended a day after I blew out the 16 candles.
What then you ask? before I go on, you must know this:
The soul that belonged to a human that lived a tragic life and ended it just as tragically, becomes a butterfly that roams in the night, never finding rest... or atleast until the reaper decides they had torture enough. What color you say? It depended on the person himself...
But who gets the purple? The indigo color? What have these spirits done to deserve the color of majesty? the color of royalty? the color of the strenght of the mind, the wild imagination and the "free" spirit?
I have asked myself this, when I flew around the pond, looking at the reflection in the water, seeing the warm, but also cold color. I was so different...
Every night I could hear the moans and crying of the other, the pleads that only butterflies themselves cloud hear, and no other ear becides their companions could be spared the hopeless cries for help and mercy...
One night was of a bloody full moon. I was flying again, like any other lost spirit, until I heard a clang of a scythe. I looked down and saw the reaper. A bliss to most of the souls, for they have waited their long deserved rest for an uncountable ammount of time... I was different. I flew away. This couldn't be it, My exsistance couldn't be ended.
Suddenly a tall fighure of a male with long black hair showed up in front of me, and grabbed me like a child would grab a normal butterfly "there you are" he whispered in a rough voice, clearly not used to talking. My wings trembled as I looked up, not responding "you have been chosen my lass, you have been chosen to recieve a choice" he said, not minding the lack of my words "I am Lucifer, my dear. The ruler of hell, the king of the dead. Do you see that reaper over there? He works under my orders... Would you care to join him in the honorable duity in becoming a death god yourself?" My mind did not cope with this, I did not understand the situation. I tried to say something, and the first thing that came out of my mind for all to hear was "will I also be a bag of bones like him?" That silly comment had earned the satans full hearted laugh "no, dear, you'll be able to choose your form. So how shal it be? will you join the scythe, or have your wings cut by it?"
The fact that I'm now able to tell you this story, might give you an idea of what I have anwsered.
I chose the form that was similar to a human, but the butterfly form and color I have grown to like, so I kept a few features. And that is how I exsist up until today. Once a soul that was suposed to be reaped, is a soul reaper herself. I do not judge, I just dish out the judgement. But be warned; I have a full right of ending ones life If I see it as a necesarry action.
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The Diari of a shinigami
The life of a shinigami(Death God)...
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