Why?

The Observer sook violently, desperately trying to break free of its bindings - It cried out for us to free it; it was almost working, but it had to die. I picked up my axe, preparing to swing it down onto its skull, to end it, and the rest of its pain and misery. We were the observers, and this creature, this being, was a being no longer - But a sad sack of flesh; its death was its purpose. The Observer was a living symbol of all this creature had suffered. With death, that suffering ceased. If there is any point to this existence - it is to experience pain, it is to suffer.

And this creature never had a choice in this. From this point forward, it will continue to experience the same existence it always did. And I suppose it never did get a choice. I mean, when you're going through Hell and back, that sort of thing can't really be contemplated, right? I swung my axe, bashing, slashing, hacking at the Observer's skull, killing it. I felt as I cracked the skin and tore into the skull - it was all I could think about. The noise was deafening, and it didn't stop.

We could all hear it. It was like the death throes of a dying bear - its lungs filled with blood, its last gasps for breath. We would all hear it in our souls - it would never end. I kept going, my axe cleaving deeper into the skull of this poor creature - I felt each crack as my axe struck. I never stopped - I never stopped hacking. I wanted to stop. It was painful and excruciating, and it hurt like Hell, but I wouldn't stop. It didn't matter. This poor creature, this being, was just a creature, and it had to live through this Hell that we were all experiencing - it had no choice. It was a living being. It had to live through this Hell, or go out being cooked alive by fire. It didn't matter. This poor creature, this being, was just a creature, a mere vessel for our suffering.

It was like that, when all this started happening - it was just this poor, poor creature, this being, living through everything with us. We hurt him, he hurt himself - and it just kept going on and on. It didn't stop. It was like a broken record - it just kept playing its endless suffering over and over. I just went along with it. I had to. What else could I do? It was the only thing I could do. I couldn't stop, because I was bound.

I had this vision - a vision that I would see this creature when this would all be over, after everything I went through - that he would look down, the poor creature. And he would see a pile of bodies - a whole pile of corpses, and that pile would reach up to the ceiling, and there would be hundreds and thousands of bodies. A whole pile of the dead. He would look down at that pile, and he would look down at his own body, his only, just - one body. That is what I saw.

Once the Observer was dead, I hacked its arms to attempt to remove them. When I sliced the last of its flesh, something clicked. I was free - I was finally free. I couldn't stand it anymore - I couldn't stand this torture. I was out of my mind, and my sanity was just about gone. I don't even know why I did it. It was like a crazed animal, in that sense, but the Observer's death was no different.

I started hacking and slashing at the flesh with the same ferocity as before, trying to take the Observer's limbs off with every swing - I was no longer sane, I had to cut it off - that's all I wanted to do. I wanted to cut the Observer's limbs off. I sliced and sliced at the Observer's limbs - they just kept coming - like a machine - and they kept making me lose the battle, even though I was so close. I couldn't bear to watch it - I just had to. I couldn't help it. It was so violent, so extreme. I was in such a state, I knew I was going to lose. I didn't care.

And I hacked and slashed and sliced and sliced and hacked and chopped and - I didn't care. It was so violent. I didn't know what I was doing. I was like a madman - I was being the torturer. My rage consumed me. I knew it was all over - I knew the Observer would eventually die, so I started hacking and slashing the Observer's limbs off.

I lost the battle. I lost - the Observer's arms came off - I felt my axe hit the ground. I thought I had won - I knew I had won - but I hadn't won. This wasn't over yet. My axe was on the ground, but the Observer's arms were still in my hand, swinging. It was like he was mocking me, like he was laughing, like this was just some kind of sick joke. A joke on me. I started on the legs next, hacking and slashing and trying to slice it off. It was as though I was still in that rage. I was in such a rage, I was still swinging that axe - that was no mistake.

I knew I was losing, and I lost. My rage consumed me. I was so lost, I was still trying to take off the Observer's limbs. It was just like I couldn't stop - my axe was in my hands, swinging - I didn't know what was going on. The Observer - it was all over me - it was on me - it was in my mind. It was everywhere - it was in my mind - I couldn't escape. My thoughts were so consumed with the Observer. My body was too.

I hacked and slashed at the Observer, trying to take its limbs off. I knew the Observer was dead - I knew it was going to die - I had to take its limbs off - and I couldn't stop. I just went on and on. I hacked and slashed and tried to take off its legs, and I knew I was losing. And there were just thousands of limbs swinging around - and I knew that, because I was still trying to take them off, and I knew that I wasn't getting anywhere. They just kept coming - I lost - I lost. I lost. I lost. I lost.

My rage consumed me. I went out of my mind. It wasn't me - it was the Observer. It was as though I was him - as though I was in that rage, as though I was that rage. It was as though I was him - but he was nothing. Nothing. He was just a stupid nothing - that's all he was. I was me. But it was all over me. I was me.

It was the Observer. I hacked and hacked and hacked - and I was losing. I knew I was losing - I knew I would lose - the Observer was dead - I knew it was dead - but I hacked and hacked - I knew I was going to lose. I didn't care. I didn't care. Nothing makes sense. Nothing makes any sense. Nothing makes sense, right? Nothing makes any sense. I don't know. Nothing makes any sense.

I didn't stop - I just kept hacking and slashing, hacking and slashing. It kept coming - I knew it was going to come, and I hacked and hacked. I knew I was losing - I knew I was going to lose. I lost - I knew it was all over. The Observer - that stupid nothing - I hated him - I hated him. I hated him. That's what I thought. I hated him.

I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him.

Why did you come? Why did you have to come? You didn't, but you did? Why? Why did you come? Why did you have to?

No.

Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you have to come? Why? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you have to? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you have to? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? You stupid idiot! You dumb motherfucker! You stupid fucking..

No.

Why did you? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you have to come? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you? Why did you come?

I stopped swinging, my clothes stained in its blood, dripping from every surface of my body; I was a dark crimson red - like a slaughterhouse, like a butcher. My hands were wet with the Observer's blood, and the Observer's face was so mangled and horrific, it just didn't look like it could live - it was beyond horror - beyond hell. My hair was thick with its blood, and my entire body was covered in its blood, which had spread around the floor, and had even found its way to the air vent that was nature, and was stuck there, with a big bloody mess. I could feel its warm blood seeping through my clothes.

Why?

Why?

Why did you come?