the devil looks up into the monotonous night sky - the raindrops like plastic pellets, swift and unpredictable, disarming any possibility of emotion. draped in a black coloured nondescript pullover, the devil walked along the quiet streets of shophouses. he wanted no attention, he needed none of it. an extrovert, yet today will be the only day he discouraged attention. tonight, he needed to be as sneaky as possible, as mysterious as possible, and as quiet as possible. he wanted to be invincible.

Desaturated.

a colourless function - the devil was the only residing colour in the setting. an unpleasant surprise, but its colour exudes a fiery devillish shade of red. one which knocks the commoners down to their knees; one which blinds them with fear. fear of being alone. loneliness at its worst.

Loneliness.

loneliness is but a state of mind. a terrible one to be in. it works on anxiety, builds on progressive insanity and kills the victim slowly but surely. it tears the victim's emotions apart and into smaller pieces; so small that it can never be restored. do you know what loneliness does to your mind?

loneliness sucks every living soul out of your body, transforming it to an absolute dysfunctional system. loneliness quietens the heart, and traps its users in a bottomless pit of painful no return. it is irreversible, slowly eating the minds of the little ones. there is only one way they can go - down. further and further down to a deadly scene of fiascos and pointless bouts of false hopes. an endless free fall, crescendos of satanic devillish tunes and hopeless anxiety, all matched against each other with a serious sense of murderous agenda.

do you know what loneliness does to your mind?...

feeling the light drizzle evolving into a heavy rain, the devil opened up his umbrella. again, a shade of bright red, complimenting his overall avatar. cringed. he was reminded of his task at hand; tonight, he will see blood. lots of blood. lots of awfully red blood - a shade of bright red, complimenting his overall avatar.

he marched along the aisle of shophouses as gracefully as possible, disinfecting himself of any suspicion of negativity. he stopped in front of pharmacy, and smiled to himself. - the stairs was but a mere stone's throw away - he was reaching his destination, the destination. the task at hand.

the sons of anarchy must have been smiling - the devil was about to glorify the little ones. he was about to exempt the greatest matriarch from this face of the world. what an awesome feeling that will be.! the devil will be celebrated more than ever before - commoners donned in red, bright red, with carcasses in their hands, singing songs inspired and of death.

Death - a submission to the most exalted.

death, with so much senseless debate going around, is a majestic method of settlement. death provides a route for joy and happiness, and it's no wonder that husbands kill wives and wives kill their children - love, at its pinnacle. death resolves the worries and the pain. a manifestation of love for one another. death, is a submission to the most exalted.

the devil walks up the flight of stairs, with each step, it wasn't fear he was feeling. it wasn't nervousness that threatened to throw him off guard. the devil maintained his most murderous stance, amidst all the joy he was feeling inside. he was about to end somebody's life, and what an absolute celebration that might be.!

he wanted to experience blood - thick, and a bright shade of it - the kind the little ones and himself bathe in every single during the ritual.

the Ritual.

every night, they stand in a perfect circle. a circle signifies infinity and endlessness in all its glory. yet the devil celebrates its geometry in a totally opposite manner - a circle, infinity and endlessness, translates into a devillish snare of no return; the best possible trap. you seek, search and trot along the boundaries of this cunning geometry for a week, yet you end up in exactly the same spot you first started. you have nowhere to go, and in the most sorry state, you're shackled in this hideous trap. you are finished.

the devil adores the sight - his little ones standing hand in hand in an absolute circular fashion. this is most pleasurable for the creator, to full take in the pungent smell of thick, dark bloody broth, forcefully smeared and poured over the little ones. they chorus chants in celebration of death, and they are always made to put on their best smile.

every night, at exactly 12 midnight (in a 24-hour time format, 12 midnight reads 00:00), the little ones gather at the exact same secret spot and wait on the devil. tonight, they have waited for an hour.

but tonight, the devil will not show up. tonight, he has a bigger mission of greater importance. he will end somebody's life - the greatest sacrifice possible to celebrate death.

the devil raced up the flight of stairs around the corner. with each step he took, he felt closer and closer to his task at hand. if not for his fully dry-bloodied body, he could have smelled accomplishment. by the 6th storey, he was almost flying. he was excited, his heart thumping of enthusiasm and anxiety. he was anxious, very anxious, so much so that head had long forgotten about the nervousness and cowardice a murder should experience.

finally, the devil had reached the roof level of a 10-storey apartment. the morning wind sent unhealthy chills down his spine. the first thing that instigated fear into him.

he moved forward, approaching a less enclosed space - the wind became stronger and more unbearable - sheltered by a trellis structure in a conical, pitch-roof formation. the devil entered the space and chose his spot - directly above his was the top of the cone shaped pitch roof, the summit of the entire apartment. tonight, he wanted to feel like the best - at the top of everything.

the devil held this position for an hour, always keeping his task in mid - the greatest sacrifice in celebration of death.

at 2 past midnight, he finally opened his eyes. it was time.

the devil specifically took 16 steps to the edge of the roof. it was a spectacular sight to take in. he turned around, back facing this scenic view. he watched, and watched, suddenly becoming extremely sensitive to every movement, read to pounce on anything unusual. the task for the night never once left his mind. he was alert and attentive to every single detail happening right before his very eyes.

and then when he finally decided that nothing was wrong or unusual, he finally closed his eyes. darkness. unusual rainbow coloured refraction circles forming up within his eyelids. darkness again.

he took in a deep breath - sweet sweet sweet, fresh fresh fresh morning air.

and then he sensed it, this time he really did. a signal. a signal that it was time to finally go for the kill. the devil bend his knees, picking up and offensive stance.

he was finally ready, the time he was waiting for.

in finality, with his eyes still shut, the devil took one last breath.

and then all of a sudden, he took the plunge.

freefall from the tenth storey, strong acceleration through the resistance of the wind. his four seconds of freefall from grace felt like long minutes to him.

memories of his loved ones flashed past his mind in the first second.

rituals and time spent with his lovely little ones took up the second.

the third was reserved for a summation of all of his incredulous acts of betrayal, murder and crimes. he adored these operations.

and finally, on the fourth and final second, just before the wanted body of the devil met with the impact of the hard concrete ground, only one thing appeared in his mind.

the greatest sacrifice in celebration of death.

he managed a slight grin.

thud.

pitch black.

darkness, the devil was finally gone.

all the joy he was feeling inside.