The Eyes Which Beheld Beauty

She possessed the most impressive eyes he had ever known.

He happened to see her among the vast current of humans flowing in the bustling district, shining like a precious pearl among sand. She was a pretty little thing of dynamic figure; she dressed nicely and her lovable face shone with a perpetual delight.

She was the kind of children who had yet to know pain, who had yet to know the world.

That was why her eyes still retained their unblemished innocent.

He had fallen in love with her eyes.

He was obsessed with her eyes.

Her lovely face distorted and the brilliance fled from her countenance. In her last moment of light, she knew of pain and suffering.

Her eyes were still the same as they laid against his palm. Dim light reflected on the irises, creating an illusion of finest jewel.

To him, to the man who had become obsessed with her eyes, they were not the tiniest bit the same.

Her eyes were perfect; the rest of hers weren’t. He had thought once he separated them from the rest, he would be able to achieve perfection.

What he obtained was only objects of flaws.

He closed his palm, gently crushing what remained of once a human.

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