First Noel
By: Angelus Erreare
A/N: Okay. This was my idea of a Christmas-themed fic. Granted, that it doesn't involve cliché Christmas items or whatnot, but I decided to delve within the real meaning of Christmas itself. So, if, by chance, that you guys still don't get the message of this fic, THEN I SUGGEST YOU DO DEEP SOUL-SEARCHING! LOL!
Ahem!
This was inspired…by my very close friend…a member of my triumvirate…Gabriel. Gabey-pooh, with you…I feel free and loved…You give me endless inspiration and endless love.
I also dedicate this to my two favorite friends…
Untainted Mind and Fallen Serph; to you guys, this is dedicated to! To you guys who are die-hard fans of the S/A ship! Isa lang ang aking bati sa inyo. Sana magkaroon kayo ng Maligayang Pasko!!!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I only own the characters Azazel, Grigori, Prometheus, Nero and Krishna.
WARNING: SEMI-AU, OOC, MILD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, ANGST, SADISM.
NOTE:
Not based on game.
Based on post-apocalyptic scenario
Chapter 1: Lost
They had been marching that path for a long time now; for as long as they could remember. They had wadded, walked and trudged through that wet, muddy and bloody road for countless of days and nights.
The lands were desolate, arid…The soil was as gray as ash…Just like the malicious and vindictive skies. Their land was set upon decay. And decay was the only thing that flourished. There were no breathtaking sceneries or amazingly profound monuments…No. There, in the Junkyard, the only breathtaking sceneries would be the piles of carcasses and corpses. The only amazingly profound monuments were the remnants of ancient civilizations; ancient civilizations that were brought upon their knees at the pinnacle of their prosperity and success by a divine hand.
The air around them, though it was cool and chilly, always had within its folds the allusion of the stench of blood.
Others would say that their lives were nothing but the exercise of futility but to them, it was their life; it was the life that they had clung to since they had been born. Exercise of futility or not, life was still life.
It was their own.
They had clung to the life, to that wretched existence hoping, ever so hoping that salvation may be at hand…
They had been taught long since they were but mere babes upon their poor mother's bosom that salvation was possible…That it was attainable…
They had been taught that God would not abandon them.
And so, with that gentle and silent promise, they had believed…and had entrusted their lives to faith. They had braved their otherwise pitiful and wretched lives with bright optimism all for the sake of that promise.
And now, now, after countless sunrises and sunsets, the child had become a man. The girl had become a woman.
She blinked as a recalcitrant raindrop dropped on her pink eyes. She wasn't bothered by it. Not anymore; not since she was but a child. The rain and the downpour was something that wouldn't bother her…Not her and not anyone else in the Junkyard.
The rain…It was endless.
There was no sun to behold…but only the cold moon to remind them of their punishment. What punishment was that? That she didn't know.
They were only told that it was the Original Sin.
But whatever it exactly was, continued to elude her.
"Hey! Did you just hear what I just said!?" a gruff voice thundered from beside her.
"Huh? What?" she turned to her side absentmindedly, her pink eyes having that dull hint in them that made the redhead in front of her roll his eyes.
He pointed down the ledge in which they perched themselves, "That!" he hissed at the woman, "That bastard down there! Take him out!"
Remembering who she was and where she was suddenly, she nodded and gripped her sniper rifle tighter, before pressing her eye against the rifle's scope, letting her see her target more clearly.
She felt her blood run cold at the sight of him. Her target…She had studied him for weeks…almost a month.
He was the leader of a rookie faction…
She remembered that so well. She had been entrusted with the elimination of this man…this man with whom she had created a special bond with…This man whom she called her target.
She had seen him in all their battles and skirmishes and had watched his every move. She had come to know of his antics and mannerisms…and had memorized even his facial expressions…
She knew everything there was to know about him…
She saw when he smiled…when he laughed, chuckled…and when he cried. Yes; her target was no different from her or from any other person within their godforsaken land. He had tears to shed just as she did.
But that wasn't what took the cake.
He had people to protect just as she did.
And that was why she was going to kill him.
He had never really exposed himself so openly. That was why she had to study him from afar. She had to find his weaknesses and use that to draw him out.
She smirked evilly.
That was why…
That was why she had taken his youngest son. The foolish boy had gone astray and she couldn't resist the temptation of ending her dreadful assignment of killing this man…this man whom she called her target.
She had taken the boy and had wounded him. She didn't mean to but…She needed to convince the father that she meant business.
She did not harm the boy that greatly; no. Only a cut on the hand. But it was enough so that he bled. Bleeding…blood per se always sent a different message rather just a plain abduction. It would send the parents over the edge…and over to the hands of desperation.
So, now, she was atop the ridge, lying in wait. She had been there for hours…just looking at the boy in front of her. She had had the boy bound and had chained him to the wet and muddy ground the way an angry owner would to their disobedient dog.
Heat had been sent with her as well although she saw no reason for his presence.
'He'd just get in the way…'
This man that she was to kill was important. She then chuckled gravely. This man. She always called him that…She knew his name but didn't dare, and not even once, contemplated on uttering such a name…such a label.
No.
To her, he would forever remain that faceless individual. She didn't want to give him names. For if she did, he'd cease to be a mere target for her…He'd be…much more. He'd be a person. And that was folly.
Targets weren't people. They were objects upon the open field that soldiers like her needed to dispose of.
That was all.
She felt her heart stay upon that dead calm that it was known for as she went back to reality. Yes. Assassins such as herself had other enemies other than their supposed targets…They were opposed to their own hearts…
Their hearts were a source of their weaknesses from two perspectives; both from the physical point of view and from the emotional point of view…
It was just natural for a human being's heart to race and quicken at the feel of excitement and extreme stimulation…That quickening of the heart or the lack thereof drew the difference between success and failure; life and death.
She could miss her target…and she would be found out…Aa…and it would be all because of her heart. And her heart's folly from the emotional point of view?
Aa…
That was easily explained.
Her heart provided the doors and windows to a person's emotions and feelings…His or her soul…
Both of which should never be exposed…
Not to anyone.
Never.
And so, she continued to watch her target with her slow-beating dead heart…Aa…There he was…running towards the boy. She smirked.
"There you are…my prey…" she sultrily purred as her finger itched at the trigger, begging its mistress to let it do what it pleased.
The man, this leader of the rookies, had forgotten the danger and had run for the boy…
'Stupid…'
At that moment, as the man neared the child did her heart harden still and there, she took the shot.
The silencer at the end of her rifle had made her kill unvoiced. The long and piercing bullet from her rifle had penetrated the air around them as it zipped through the battlefield. But it wasn't that that had penetrated their souls.
It was the child's scream.
His bloodcurdling scream could be heard from miles around as he saw his father mercilessly shot on the head, right in between the eyes.
Argilla immediately set her rifle on a new target. A moment later, another bullet penetrated the cold air.
Now, though, there was no scream to follow it.
She set her rifle down and stood up, casually removing any dirt that would've clung to her gray uniform. She looked from Heat's nonchalant red orbs to the fallen people below the ridge.
She too had killed the boy. But it was, she deemed, as necessary. To let him live would be…folly.
And she knew that Heat agreed. For if he didn't, he would've told her so. But he didn't. That was the law of the land.
Survival of the fittest.
The strong live and the weak perish.
If she had let the boy live, that boy would grow to be a man…He would've followed his father's footsteps as well…He would've taken up arms and would've hunted her down…He would've killed her.
No.
He wouldn't get that chance.
'He won't…ever.' she thought indifferently.
She looked at Heat once more and saw that he had merely walked away from her, ready to direct the next assault. This was the day that they defeat those incessant maggots.
Now, they were leaderless…
xxxxx
She drunk the last amount liquor within her glass in one go. Who was she kidding…? Even if she had accurately killed her targets…Even if her heart had been dead-slow in its pace…Even if her emotions were almost nonexistent…
They existed within her nonetheless…
And now that she was alone…more alone that she had ever been in her life…she could feel the distant poking and pinching of her aforesaid vexing emotions.
"There you are…" a voice from behind her said.
She closed her eyes. She knew who it was…
She sighed; she and he…had been friends for as long as she could remember…They had lived their childhood together; they had shared in its rare happy times and its sad-filled times…They had stuck by one another through thick and thin, she and he…
Some say that they were destined to be together…
Some say that it was because of their experiences together that made them compatible…
That was why…
That was why she had been his wife and mate for years now. Yes; she had given herself to him. She did not look at another man ever…
They were right; in her eyes. Why would she refuse her friend's affections when he had clearly demonstrated that he would not abandon her? In their world, it was only an action of sheer foolhardy folly and foolishness to discard allies…
And he was an ally to her…wasn't he?
Yes. He was. That was why she had agreed to be his mate…even when she was unsure herself of how she felt about him.
She was a friend to him…yes. But…could they be anything more…other than that? Of course they can! They were made for one another, weren't they? Their parents thought so. Their neighbors thought so. And the whole of their tribe thought so too. Who was she to disagree…?
He had risen far and above what she had expected of him…
Not only had he become a prominent ally in her life, a crucial piece of her survival, but he had also become somewhat of a savior to her…
He had risen upon the highest pedestal of power in their meek little existence. He had come to lead their tribe.
Now, more than ever, she was certain that she had made the right choice when she accepted his proposal…
But now…Even if they were together; as close as a man could be to a woman, she still felt…oh so terribly alone.
Her conundrums, her turmoil…her unrest…he knew nothing of.
She didn't tell him.
'Why would I…? It's my business…' she thought haughtily, 'And if he had been my friend at all…he should know why I'm like this…'
"Yea…" she trailed off lazily, not bothering to look at her mate in his eyes, "What is it…? Do you…have another target for me?" she asked, unfazed and totally intoxicated.
He frowned at her. He was her husband…but at the same time, her friend. He could feel the burden that she had carried on her shoulders for days on end…
He sighed in regret. Why was she being this way…?
When they were still friends, there were no secrets in between them. There was no malice…no malevolence…no nothing. They were the two sides of the same coin…and they were happy.
But now…
It was different.
'Why did you change Argilla? Why?' he asked himself in sadness.
He knew that it had been his fault when his feelings for her had steadily evolved until there came a time that his feelings had transcended all forms of friendship. He had begun to crave her the way a man would crave his wife…
And he didn't see anything wrong in that. He had hoped that it would even bring them closer to one another. That was why he was confident enough to ask for her hand…
He had seen, of course, the flash of utter disbelief and choking astonishment in her eyes as he uttered his words back then. However, he had also seen the flash of practicality and reality in her eyes.
And so, she had accepted.
He didn't know what it all meant back then…But now, he understood.
She had accepted him because she believed that it was the best course of action. From the military point of view, they would make the perfect team…They were both the combination of brains and brawns. Perfect.
But then…she changed.
He should've expected that. But he didn't.
Instead of inching ever closer to him after their marriage and the consummation of their relationship, she began to drift further and further away from him. She began to isolate herself from him…
He didn't want that. Why couldn't she see that he was the same person, the same boy who lived just next-door?
Why was she allowing their marriage to interrupt their long-forged friendship?
'Perhaps…she feels nothing for me…' he thought with utter sadness.
"No." he responded; unfazed.
He watched her nod in condescendence, "Aa…Then…is there something I could do for you Serph?" she asked, her eyes still on her liquor-filled glass.
"I've come to take you home." was his nonchalant reply.
She narrowed her eyes, "I don't want to. You go ahead. I'll be fine."
"You won't. You're heavily drunk." he refuted calmly.
She glared at him at hearing his response, "Listen, I'm not a child. I'm off duty and I don't have to listen to your orders." she said icily, almost bitterly.
He felt a sting in his heart as she looked at him with such hatred…with such malevolence…with such malice…
Why did she hate him so…?
"Be that as it may, I am still your husband. I'm taking you home." he told her firmly, grasping her by the arm, hoisting her up.
She growled, "What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" she yelled in anger, "Let go of me!"
She was creating a scene and she didn't care. She was there, drowning her sorrows because she had to and not because she wanted to. And so, by her logic, she was completely justified in protesting in the removal of herself from the premises.
Serph had nothing to do with the assassination that she had just done. They were his orders yes…But it had been she who had carried them out.
Thus, the burden…the guilt was not on his shoulders but was on hers.
Why couldn't he just understand that?! Why can't he understand that she needed solitude!?
She hissed and snarled and growled and yelled, but nothing could be done to cease her mate's endeavor. He had taken her from the tavern and was now dragging her along the streets, "Damn it Serph! Let go of me! Let go!" she screamed at him as she suddenly found herself within the confines of their room.
Once there, he had let go of her and she immediately fell on the floor.
Serph blinked and knelt down to touch her but she swatted his hands away, "Don't touch me damn it!"
He looked at her sadly. He only wanted what was best for her…He didn't mean any harm…
Argilla's breath became ragged and labored as she continued to sit on the floor, her palms on the tiles, supporting her weight, "Why did you bring me here Serph? I wasn't ready to leave."
"You're drunk."
She rolled her eyes at him and looked at him patronizingly, "Gee, I wonder if it's that obvious. You're a smart one!"
He frowned but ignored her sarcasm, "Argilla…"
She glared at him, "I don't need your help Serph. I could've gone home without you."
Again, he ignored her, "Why were you drinking that much? I asked the bartender and I found out that you were having your third bottle."
She turned away from him, "You wouldn't understand."
He sighed and sat beside her. He came closer to her and touched her chin in his fingers affectionately. She swatted them away but he held on, turning her face to meet his.
Their eyes met.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked painfully.
Argilla wanted to strangle him. Him!? What had she done!? No! That wasn't the question! What had he done!? That was the question! The nerve of him, turning the tables on her!
"Why are you making everything difficult for me?"
She growled and pried his hand from her face, "I'm making things difficult am I? Then maybe you should let me go!"
He leaned back as he heard her words. His silver eyes dilated in pain before returning back to their original size, "I…I see…"
He understood what that meant…and that moment of comprehension, broke his already cracking heart.
He cast his head down and spoke slowly, "I'm sorry…I thought that…if you became my mate, that…we could be closer…" he paused as he sighed, "I'm still your friend…I had not changed. You can tell me…anything you want."
Argilla's heart got caught up in her throat but she could not bring herself to speak. So he knew.
"I didn't know…that I made you feel…this way. Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, raising his head so that his eyes met hers.
Why indeed?
She looked at him with dead fisheyes, "Because it was the best course of action. Sir." she deadpanned unfeelingly.
Another jab of pain eroded his chest as he listened to her sharp words. He looked at her poignantly, "I…I see. Then…" he paused and cast his head down before having the courage to look back at her in her eyes, "Then I…I shall assign new quarters for you."
Argilla's pink eyes dilated at that. He was…? Was he doing what she thought he was doing?
"I'll terminate the paperwork…So, you don't have to worry about that. You just…focus on what you want to do next. I'll take care of the rest."
"Serph…"
He shook his head, "You can move out in twelve hours; at least. Or…you can remain at the infirmary until I finish your relocation. Or you can stay here until then. Whatever works with you is fine." he told her as calmly as he could, not an ounce of emotion lacing his words…
But she knew.
She knew that it was a blatant hoax as his eyes betrayed what his words and spirit attempted to hide. She knew because she had been his friend…
He then stood up, "You're off duty, correct? Then I had best be leaving."
Before she could utter her response, he had already gone. She narrowed her eyes at the metallic doors, "Good riddance…"
She had had enough of this life. This life had done nothing but back and corner her against a wall with no chance of escape. It had made her into a killer. It had made her into a parasite; yes she was a parasite to Serph. She married him for the benefits that he could bring her. That was the sole reason and not because they had a love affair…or anything remotely resembling that.
This life of hers…had given her nothing but garbage upon garbage of choices. Her career was filled with bloodshed and guilt…while her personal life, her married life, the supposed escape that she could use against the ghosts and phantoms of her sins committed from her crimes on the battlefield was even more of a mess…
She regarded him as a friend while he regarded her as a lover…Their setup worked for a while…But when her guilt had decided to engulf her and her killings had taken its toll on her, it was then she began to realize of what a life she had thus far led.
On one side, she was…
A killer. A cold-blooded murderer.
And on the other side, she was a person who played charades. A parasite.
A child playing pretend. They were playing pretend…
Well, she can't pretend any longer.
She picked herself up from the floor and made for the closets. She opened them and looked at her belongings. Well, there wasn't a point to remaining here. Serph had made himself perfectly clear. She had best gather her things.
'I can't wait to get out of here…' she thought. It wasn't that Serph was an inadequate lover…or was he an unfaithful mate…
It was just that…
She shook her head.
'…We're just friends…Aren't we Serph? I just…I just don't know what I feel about you. This is…this isn't right. I don't want to keep lying to you…or to myself. Right now, I know I have to be alone. I can't see you right now…'
As her thoughts drew to a close, so did her heart close upon her feelings towards her husband and mate…
"I'm tired of this life."
She reached for her clothing and hurled them on their bed; she had to prepare ASAP.
xxxxx
