Work Text:
What does it mean to sin?
Long ago, there existed two brilliant minds, two beautiful angels untainted by sin. But alas, sin makes its way into every crevice, every crack, leaving nothing untouched. However, the question of how one defines sin remains.
Perhaps sin relies on the eyes of the beholder. Sin does not exist if one believes they have committed no such thing. It is only considered a sin when one believes it exists. It's almost laughable how much one word could weigh purely because of the existence of morality, the scales of good and evil created to measure the weight of one's sin.
O’ Swords above, how far had this angel fallen?
For this pitiful being had stooped so low, tainting its hands in so much sin.
All that exists bleed one way or another. Angels, devils, mortals, even gods can bleed. I know this, because I have dipped my hands in the blood of an angel, and a devil all the same. The blood stains the snow, the blood stains my hands, the blood stains the fabric, and the blood stains the land.
Yes, this pink horned devil was once an angel.
Angels deserve to be buried with respect, do they not? And so, I brought myself onto my knees and covered the fallen with white. White is pure. White is clarity. White is what defines all that is holy. Yet, my pale hands are not white, for they are crimson. They have been stained, tainted by the sin I had committed. But still I continue to bury, for this angel must be treated with utmost care. Bury I must, bury I shall, until all I see is the face of that has fallen from grace.
Just as I had.
Ever so slowly, I raise my hand to close the eye that stare directly at my soul, seeing me for what I truly am. It had long lost its light. I took it away from it. I took the light from him. O’ one who watches, will this light ever return to its rightful owner? Will I ever be forgiven for this deed I had committed? I close my eye and pray, even if I knew I had crossed a point of no return. I am already knee deep in filth. This cursed filth. Filth that gnaws at your soul. A festering rot that corrupts the body, dragging you down into its depths.
This filth fills me with loathing. Whom was it that created this disgusting thing? Of course, the answer lies in front of me. This angel. This devil. No, this was no angel. This is a devil that wore the skin of one, tainting all that it touches, including me.
Me. Me who had opened my heart to love this devil I once believed an angel. A mistake. Now, I must face the consequences of it. How careless I had been for not seeing through the disguise sooner. A devil does not deserve respect. A devil need no funeral. A devil need no lovers. You had dragged me into the depths of hell, and now you shall pay for the suffering you inflicted onto me.
I bury my fingers into the devil’s socket, further staining me, tainting me. This was what it deserved, for it is I who it had corrupted. This is the karma that it deserved. Repent. You must repent for your sins, for I brought this judgement upon you. You have sinned far too much. I felt the devil’s eye on the tip of my fingers, and brought it out. It squelched as it moved, nearly slipping through my grasp as I brought it out into the light and tore it from the nerves connected to it.
I stare into this eye of yours. There was never an angel, only vile, putrid sin. Why did I ever think there was one? If angels truly exist, then perhaps one of them would have dragged this pitiful being, allured by the devil, into realizing the truth sooner. To save me from this filth that desperately clung to me. Angels are no saviors. Does this mean I myself was never one? Yes, that must be it. I am a mere sinner, never an angel, never a savior. I was deluded to believe I ever was one.
As a sinner, I shall carry out my own retribution. I accept this as my punishment. I accept this as my path for repentance. I shall accept my sins, and I shall also accept the sins of this devil, for I had once loved it. I still do. I shamefully love this devil, so I must carry its sins even in death. You. You who are the embodiment of sin. The embodiment of my sins. The sole witness of my sins.
For I had loved you, I shall carry the burden you once carried.
I lifted the eye closer to my face and gently slipped it through my parted lips. It felt slick on my tongue. Soft, squishy. The barriers gave out under the pressure between my teeth. Liquid pools in my mouth, and I swallow it. I swallow every single drop, every single evidence, every single filth. I shall consume the devil’s sins and make them my own, for this is what I must do. This is the burden I must carry.
Your sins are now my own. This is my punishment for loving a devil.
You. You who I love so dearly. You who I loved so dearly. Why would you hurt me this way. Why let me hate you? No, you brought this upon yourself. You made me hate you. You made me love and hate you all the same, and I loathe you for that. I hate you. I hate your miserable existence. I hate how you hurt me. I hate how you talked to me. I hate how you lowered my guard. I hate how you betrayed me. I hate how you made me carry your sins. I hate I hate you. You, the devil. You, the angel. Why do I still see you an angel? You are a devil, undoubtedly.
My fist raised, and it collided against the devil’s face, eliciting a harsh CRACK. Again, and again, and again, and again. Over, and over and over and over and over and over—
I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. Love, adoration, devotion, attachment, resentment, loathing, contempt, despair. You are a disgrace. I detest your very existence. Your cursed, filthy, miserable existence. Why, why must you curse me this way. No matter where I look, I see you. No matter what I do, I see you. No matter what I say, I see you. No matter what others say, I see you.
You have infected my life.
Yet, as I stare down at your face—ruined, stripped of its beauty, by my own hands—what filled my heart was not anger nor satisfaction.
It was sorrow.
I froze. Sorrow. Sorrow overwhelmed me as I saw the face of that I once loved, battered and ruined by my own hands. It was I who had tarnished him. It was I who had ruined his grace. It was I who was in the wrong. Yes, I had hated you, yet I had cared for you so dearly. You left me. I left you. I pushed you away. The fault lies with me.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I had done this to you. I'm sorry. I'm such a terrible being. I had done such terrible things, I've said such horrid things to you, because I hated you. I've always hated you, yet I loved you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all I've done. Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Will I ever be forgiven? I'm sorry. Sorry. I deserve this. I had done this. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Don't forgive me. I'm sorry. The guilt consumes me whole. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I will not be forgiven. You are not here. I had pushed you away from me, and shall never come back. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. My chest hurts. I'm sorry. I deserve this pain. I'm sorry. I inflicted this upon you and myself. I'm sorry.
I will not be saved.
I recognize this.
I shall never be saved.
Because I have passed the point of no return.
No savior will come for me.
The fiery pits await me, with you by their side.
Yes, I shall conduct this punishment on myself. I will take on the role of judge and the executioner. And you, you are my witness. I shall gladly take on this heavy burden. This role I accept, because I am the reason you suffer. You are the reason I suffer. We deserve this punishment, for I have judged so. We deserve to burn in purgatory for as long as we exist. Our existence will cause each other pain, no matter the time, no matter the land, no matter the universe—this is a heartbreaking truth I have learned.
I push my miserable legs to hold the weight of myself. This miserable body of mine shall be put to use, to enact judgement upon myself and you across all other worlds, for we all have sinned. Sinners we are, making existence miserable for ourselves. It would do justice to erase all traces of our existence, no? A favor. A mercy to all of me and you who suffered. This shall be our form of forgiveness, our form of repentance.
To you, I confess my sins. Now I must enact punishment upon these foul sinners.
I ignore my trembling limbs, for I shall fear no more. I ignore my tears, for I shall feel no more. I ignore the wails coming from my throat, for I shall speak no more. I ignore the bloodstained snow before me, for I shall see no more.
Thus, I walked away, burying my sins in the snow.
What does it mean to sin?