Information
Victor Zsasz_130
Legacy Name: Victor Zsasz_130
The
Bloodred DragarthOwner: JasonFreakingTodd
Age: 14 years, 9 months, 2 weeks
Born: May 31st, 2011
Adopted: 14 years, 9 months, 2 weeks ago
Adopted: May 31st, 2011
Statistics
- Level: 1
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
The blackness was a coat over the city, holes punctured through it by the light which defied the meaning of day and night. It was like a moth eaten quilt, left too long out, tainted by the creatures around it. Sounds filled the air; car horns, music, televisions, barking dogs, meowing cats, human pleasures. Gotham City did not fall with the night; in fact, the night became a new day, in an alternate version of reality. When evil lurked in shadows of the day, they were left to roam free at night, so long as the night did not betray them to the shadow hunter. The night was neutral. It took no sides. It made no promises. It gave no hope. It was only there. Sometimes it aided, sometimes it harmed. The night did not care. So long as the night was unpredictable, it would be feared, and it would be in control. But the night did not matter to Victor Zsasz…The night was just there, and nothing more. It could have been a worthless event, for all he cared. But Victor only cared about one thing. Everything else was pointless…The way things moved about even disgusted him. There was only one good part about life, and he had made it his own goal to shine this upon others, let them know the glory, let them be liberated…Death was a marvelous thing. It was the end of the pointless routines, the pointless emotions, the pointless life everyone was expected to have.But Zsasz felt clever to know it was not what had to happen. Life was an illusion. What was the point of gaining when you cause others to lose? The point of having love when it surely would not last? The point of trust when nothing can be trusted? Zsasz happily left these behind. Though the memories seared into him reminded of when these emotions controlled him sickened him to where he felt sick, he had these emotions to thank. To thank for letting him see the truth…The horrible, wonderful truth. Having found himself at the brink of death, to be saved by another’s greed…It was a sign. An omen. Zsasz knew what he must do. He took the knife the homeless man had attempted to attack him with, and stabbed him…Over and over and over and over. The cries of pain was music to his ears. When the man died, Victor felt one thing course through his body, yearning above all emotions: Hope. Victor knew he had been chosen to save people from their endless droning of lives, to liberate them, send them to the world of nothingness to follow. Annoyance trigged and Zsasz scolded himself; they are not human, they are zombies. Trapped in a mindless, meaningless world. It did not matter if they were happy or sad, living life to the fullest, or on the edge of insanity. Zsasz wanted to save them. With every liberation, every soul he set free from the monotone world, he made a mark. He would cut a tally into his own skin, to remind himself and others of what a wonderful thing it was…He had to be very careful, though. If one of the chosen were to survive the liberation, and Zsasz had already marked the zombies’ freedom, then his skin became a burden, a reminder of his failure. He must hunt down the zombie. Finish what he started. Save them from the horrors of the world, complete the tally. Everyone deserved a tally. Even the Batman; it, of all the zombies, needed it the most. Illusions bent in his mind that he was the hero, and Zsasz was the villain…The poor, poor confused zombie. It moved with a purpose, Zsasz noted, like it had something to prove. Something needed to be accomplished. Maybe it was like Zsasz…Struck by the eight ball of the world, given the gift to see who utterly meaningless things were. Batman had passion. So did Zsasz. But he could not figure out what the meaning of this. Though he seemed to be the only one able to see the truth of life, or lack of, this zombie wore a second shell, which provided both mental and psychical defense. Zsasz knew he had to enlighten this rather curious zombie…But every day, every hour, every minute, every second that passed, and he felt his skin burning and tingling, craving the mark that he must have, Zsasz knew how to be patient. He would wait, think, strike…One day he would get it right. Then next would come to liberate the young zombie known as Robin. Then his sights would be to save to the city.They live without meaning…moving everyday as if with a purpose, but the only purpose they have is to keep living and make it seem interesting. It was not. It was not meaningful. Emotions do not matter. Only one thing mattered. One thing that they could only experience once, unless plagued with a second life after Death takes them. How Death can be harsh…She, like him, had motives. But reasons? Zsasz did not know. Maybe one day, he could figure out how to liberate Death. Only then shall the world be saved. Until then; nothing mattered. All was meaningless.