Perspective of Asillium the Nightmare Child

Eurus, Varkik, 167

I’ve always struggled to keep my cool. Considering what I’ve been through, I’d say I do a fairly good job. Things just make me so… irritated. Then all the sudden I’m no longer in control of my actions. I… hurt people.

It was a cold stormy day when everything seemed to change. I can’t remember how long I lost it, I only know that I kept my hands plenty warm inside the bodies of strangers. When I regained consciousness again I didn’t know where I was, but around me were the remains of my unrestricted temper. I think it’s fair to say those bastards deserved whatever they got. Looking around, I realized that the had -I can only assume- been experimenting on, were either dead or well on their way. A child looked like he could be saved, though he was the only one. He was the most beautiful color I’d ever seen; his aura was a gentile periwinkle blue. Still, he needed to be patched up quite a bit. Missing an eye and some of the limbs clearly weren’t his own.

I carried him home with me, praying on his warm breath that seemed to get softer and softer. After laying him in bed, I worked quickly to stitch his mangled body back together. You don’t need to know the details, what do you care?

It was weeks before he woke up, and believe me I had my doubts along the way. But once he did he was still rather weak. His body shook worse than a nervous leaf in the fall. Even then, I couldn’t help but feel a certain fondness for him and that beautiful color he breathed.

I sat on the edge of the bed, paying close attention to the way he edged further back every time I looked his way. “Hungry?” I asked.

He struggled to burrow himself in the blankets, despite his best attempts. I’d forgotten that my eyes weren’t as gentle and pretty as they used to be. Though he hadn’t answered, I went into the kitchen to get him some soup. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what else to do. When I got back, he was looking around the room, searching for a threat that wasn’t there. However when I set the bowl down in front of him he gulped it down without suspicion. Resting my chin on my fist, I watched him for a while, thinking to myself.

“You got a name kid?”

He looked up and opened his mouth to speak, but instead just shook his head.

I decided, “I'll call you Patchwork.”