Fuko

Sometimes I feel like the Kodoku, the last survivor of a great war, poisoned with the blood of my kin. Inside my heart is but another demon, to never be purged, because that demon is my true self. Will I be released from this vase they call life? Or shall I forever be forced to fight another battle, until I am, myself, destroyed?

Was my destiny always this way? I now crave the poison, as it is my only semblance of strength, my only form of defense against myself and others.

Pull my legs and arms from my body and watch me wriggle around helplessly, my poison blood will spill upon the ground and cut through you like a caustic acid, you are no match for me, young one. Lay down and meet your fate as my sustenance.