Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: I was writing this out earlier, and I thought it was pretty good. I came back to it to proofread it, only to think that it lacked intensity. But as you know, one's writing cannot be judged by one's self. So, I will let you make the decision.


Remember: in original literature, some of this may not make sense, but this is based on a specific series, so take into consideration the characterization of the series.

You think I am evil, that I am undeserving of any existence on this earth and are a threat to mankind?

You are evil. Not me.

It is you that points out the difference between the vile taste of a demon's blood, and the sinned intensity of human blood that is spilt.

It is you that automatically assumes I am a danger, because I do not look quite like you. I am not exactly like a regular human. I am close enough to look human. I have no visible flaws. But you see my appearance, and you make judgements because I am not like you.

I am just like you.

Yet I am not.

Because inside of me rages a war of utter emotion – that I can never completely be like you, like the rest of you. Perhaps that is what sets me apart, that I could never completely control who I was while growing up.

Maybe it was those who lingered in my mind.

I thirst for the blood of those who have wronged me, and not just for the extinction of the human race. Those who think I can be destroyed with an amount of steel bullets and the desire to eliminate who I am are mistaken. They will pay for it.

I tried to be friendly, but you made me despise humanity. You created this intense hatred, and you fuel it every time you point a gun at me, to remind me of my differences. Every time you threaten to hurt me, to lock me up and tell me to co-operate, my hatred for you only increases. I will not co-operate, and it takes only a mere thought to annihilate your body and tear apart your organs. You are nothing to me; do not ever forget that.

Have you not realized yet: you cannot destroy me with a weapon – with any weapon.

You discriminate me, and in doing so, force me to become dangerous in my defense, because you have wrongly judged me.

You made an assumption and caused me pain based on my appearance. There will be no mercy when I kill you.

I want you to suffer.

I want you to suffer every last second, every last moment of pain that I went through. I want to see the fear in your eyes as I destroy all those who are close to you, and make you feel the same torment I felt for so many years.

I cannot forgive you for that.

For not even giving me the chance.

I was damaged and insulted beyond forgiveness, beyond acceptance of any kind. I can only hate for those who have given me a title, to mark me as a threat to humanity, and forever set me apart in a race of my own.

The Diclonius.


Constructive criticism accepted. Please let me know if this makes sense in terms of characterization. It was originally set in the perspective of Lucy, but can applied to any other character like her.