☯ H u m a n e S l a u g h t e r☯ {Bishie/AlphaZero}

[AlphaZero]

⌈ Humane

Slaughter ⌋

 

Bishie || AlphaZero

 

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[ "Food is our common ground, a universal experience." ]

 

 

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Gore, Horror, Romance, Modern

 

 

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[AlphaZero]

HUMANITY values itself as being the highest of the food chain; it's arrogant and it believes that nothing will ever be able to take its place as ruler to its self-created monarchy. It sees the world in black and white, bad and good, clean and unclean, rarely gray. Death is considered black and life is considered white. There is a certain beauty to death; it has its own virtue whether or not it can be seen in the eyes of human beings. Death is a fickle thing. Man usually can never truly understand the perfection that is death. They mindlessly kill when rage, jealousy, possessiveness, love, or any other type of human emotion out there--whether they're viewed as being negative or positive--fully consumes their rationality and replaces it with the irrationality that is exquisitely human. Most of the time, killing is seen as something completely inhumane, because it takes the life of another. Yet certain humans completely disregard the monarchy; they push aside the general human population's ideals in regards to death, killing, and humanity in general, and instead take on a whole new level insanity. Killing is then seen as art that one could spend a lifetime in perfecting, death is then seen as something entirely white, and humanity is then seen as a toy or maybe in some cases, food.

 

Astor Michaelis is a being that is none of that, or rather, he can't feel what it is that other humans feel that causes them to be a puppet in the monarchy's hands. This man can't find it within himself to care for life or death and will take whatever is given to him. He goes through life dignified, uncaring, and most of the time, void of emotions. Those who have tried to sway him into a certain path have all failed miserably. This man doesn't kill, doesn't save, and has technically decided that he has no path in life. There are questions that he asks himself. Why doesn't he care? Why isn't he afraid of dying, or living? Why doesn't he feel? These questions may show how caring he actually is in regards to himself, but he can't answer any of them. They're all questions that can never be answered, because he doesn't try to answer them. There's not a specific reason as to why he chose his current profession. Being a detective specializing in homicide was not a dream job, nor was it just for the money. A more specified reason was that he was good at the field, which was the only reason. His life consists of his career, sleeping, and eating. Astor is a man without family, close friends, lovers, or pets. Did he feel lonely? That answer was inconclusive, because he didn't know if he was lonely or not and he didn't care to answer. Being the way he was, one would think that the man was a robot, but no, he was all human. At least, he was physically.

 

***

"...age twenty-six, this is your first job--first job?! Aren't you twenty-six? Shouldn't you have loads of jobs under your belt by now?"

Astor Michaelis regarded the man with the same expression he gave everyone else, a face void of emotions. It was here, that he would begin his chosen occupation as a homicidal detective. Unless, he didn't get hired. Usually, people would get quite nervous talking to their employer on the first important job they've ever had the chance of acquiring an interview for. But Astor however, seemed as calm as can be. A little bit too calm, apparently.

 

"No," he said nonchalantly. His sky blue hues seemed as if they could stare into the soul, seeing as how little he moved them, or blinked. He continued staring the man before him as he sat holding Astor's resume and with each passing second of silence, the young man was starting to assume that he did not succeed in getting the job. All of sudden, the older male reluctantly shook his head, eyes wide and shocked at what he had just heard. Where do they find these people anyway? Who hires a young brat with no job experience whatsoever for a grunt job, let alone being a detective on the main force already?

 

Even so, Astor's profile showed that he was more than capable of handling himself on the field, despite his lack of past jobs. The main profession before even thinking about being a detective, was to be a police officer and then promoted after gaining experience and meeting departmental requirements.The evidence the man held in his hands could not be proved against however, no matter how much he disapproved of it or was angered by it. With a dissatisfied, harsh sigh, the employer--who Astor did not know the name of--continued reviewing the young man's profile, this time silently.

 

"Hmph, can't be helped. We're in desperate need of new people and from the looks of your profile, you'd do quite well with us. You're hired. You start tomorrow. Meet at the conference room at 7 A.M. sharp. If you don't know where that is, ask your new co-workers. Don't be late."

 

Well, that was surprising. Astor seriously thought that this job was out of his hands the moment he said the word 'No'.

 

***

The next thing on his mind, was just getting home, and with the drive home already in process, his bed would be his lover for the day, as it usually was anyway. No matter how inhuman he seemed, the man loved his sleep. It could be considered... a hobby, he supposed. With his first career secured, he finally had something to do with his life, even if it wasn't his 'dream'.

 

As the soft classical music played a tune that resonated throughout his black BMW, the first thought that came through his mind was what he was going to be eating when he woke up from his three hour nap. A cup of milk and some strawberries seemed appropriate.