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I always seem to get attached to the anti-heroes in a series, and Crona was no exception. When this idea popped into my head, I had to write it down. Although it took almost a year for all the details to develop in my head, this past month I finally forced my self sit down and TYPE! This is what resulted. Please enjoy!
Wicked Child
"We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today." - Stacia Tauscher
Time doesn't really mean anything if you don't have a sun to watch. I can't recall how long ago it was that I last saw it...a while ago. I can't even see the moon glaring at me from in here when it's night, its horrific grin and gleaming teeth beaming upon the city streets. The Darkroom is simply what it is: dark.
I didn't know exactly why I'm was put here, either. She knows I don't like the Darkroom. I never have. I hate it here. I don't know what to do, and there's no way to change anything once you're inside. That's why it's so scary in here. Nothing ever changes.
Except me. The one thing I do know for sure, what I felt, is the pain. It hurt so much, I could barely move. Why does it hurt so much? I've asked her several times, but she never explains exactly why. She just says I'm growing up, and it will get better with time. I wonder, did it hurt as much for her to grow up as it is for me?
I'm not liking growing up.
Whenever I do something wrong, or something she doesn't like, she puts me in here. I try to be very careful, but this time I don't know what I did.
In fact, I thought I was really good when I held very still, just like she asked, when she brought out the needle. That was really scary too, but it actually didn't hurt very much. At least nothing like this. I'm trying very hard to stay quiet, so she'll let me out. Maybe the pain will go away if I'm really, really good…
At least Ragnarok isn't here to hear me. He'd just hit me again, but I hope he's okay. I remember when I first met him, I didn't even see his face.
I found him while walking alone within the calmer streets near the edge of Death City. (She often let me wonder by myself even though I was so young and small, because I always was a good child and came back when I needed to.) He was sitting on the ground in an alleyway by himself. I wouldn't have noticed him, except that when I walked by, my eyes caught a flash of light.
Noticing me first, he had transformed before I could see him.
He was a beautiful weapon, a thin shiny sword against the dark cobblestone road. His handle was as deeply stained as the Darkroom, and the blade gleamed gently of black and silver. I asked him why he stayed like that.
'Are you okay?' I had asked softly, wondering why he had changed. 'Did…did I do something wrong?'
Then he spoke, and though the sword remained completely still, I heard him clear as the air around me.
'No. I always change before people see me now.'
When I asked him why he did that, it took him a moment to respond.
'So people won't be afraid of me', he had said. 'They think I'm scary when I'm not like this. They run away.'
'That's okay,' I had responded. 'Sometimes I think they find me scary too.' I cocked my head, looking at him. Finally I spoke again.
'If you change, I won't run away from you.'
It had taken some encouragement, but he finally transformed and showed me his humanoid form. He was really different, completely unique from anyone or anything else I had ever met, but I wasn't scared. Like I promised, I didn't run away, and he seemed to be shocked by that. He glanced me over with his bubble-eyes, and though I could see no mouth move, his voice still existed.
'You're not going to run away?' he then asked again. I shook my head.
'I wouldn't know where to go.'
'Dummy!' he squeaked, bobbing his tiny gloved fist on my head. 'You run back home!'
I cracked open an eye to look at him, thinking about it.
'Okay, I can do that. What about you?' He paused, looking away from me.
'I don't really have one.'
I glanced behind me, back the way I had come, back to that house that held everything I knew, feared, and hated.
'You can come with me if you want.'
Now I wish he hadn't. I shouldn't have brought him home with me. At first, it seemed like a great idea. She was so excited when she saw him tagging along next to me.
'Why hello there,' she had said with a smile so sincerely sweet, I had stepped back from her, nervous. 'My name is Medusa. Are you Crona's friend?'
I had never considered to call him that, but he nodded. Medusa clapped her hands in delight and brought us inside. She was so nice to him, and oddly nice to me. I thought I had finally done something right, and she acted so pleased with me.
But it didn't last very long. Within the week, Ragnarok suddenly disappeared, and I haven't seen him since. She never told me what happened, and I wasn't allowed to ask.
Shortly afterward, Medusa asked me to sit very still and be patient. She had told me that things wouldn't hurt me as much anymore, and that I wouldn't need be scared of everything either. Before I could ask how or why, she had put me in here.
"Let's see if you survive," were her last words.
And since then I've been like this.
It's really dark and quiet in here…I guess I've already told you that, haven't I?
It really hurts now, like something is ripping my back. I can't stay quiet anymore! Even curling tightly into a ball, my only defense in waiting for the pain to subside, didn't help this time. I screamed and cried, begging and pleading, but it didn't stop.
I knew she would never come and get me now. I would be locked up in here forever, and the thought made me wail all the louder. Let me out! Let me out!
"What is that god awful sound?" A familiar screech broke in my ears, almost as if it was inside my own head. I clenched at my knees, pinching the fabric between my thin fingers until I couldn't feel anything anymore. The pain finally began to fade.
"Is that coming from you?" It asked again, and a clenched fist smacked my forehead bluntly. "Would you shut up?"
The voice obviously wasn't Medusa, but I couldn't believe who it was. I cracked open a single eye, but of course I couldn't see his face.
"Rag…Ragnarok?"
"No, it's Charles Darwin. Of course it's me! Who else would it be?" He pulled and tugged at my shoulders, forcing me up. I felt a strange sensation from between my shoulder blades, like a force was tugging me from there too. I didn't give any effort forward, and I was popped into a sitting position a little too quickly. My hands went to my face in a daze.
I felt something wet, sticky, and cold all over my face and hands, but I couldn't determine what it was. Ragnarok shook my shoulders, whining and complaining loudly.
"I can't see anything! Crona, where the heck are we?"
"Where did you go?" I asked him instead, rubbing my fingers together confused. "You went away." He paused in his roughness, the silence coming momentarily.
"…I don't remember…" he finally said. I pondered that quietly for a minute, and we sat there together in serenity.
But then our tranquility was interrupted. The darkness, like a solid block, was sliced cleanly by a blade of light coming from a short distance away. The Darkroom's heavy wooden door creaked open, and I turned away to relieve my straining eyes. I sensed Ragnarok pull away too, putting his hands up to cover his face.
"Well, looks liked you've made it through the night."
The tone she used caused my arm to ache. I instinctively reached over, covering the injection point protectively.
Medusa strode into the room, kneeling down to reach towards me. I turned to look at her, my eyes focusing gradually in the fresh light rays bursting through the doorway. Her fingers cupped my face, looking me over in silent consideration. When she was satisfied, she faintly smiled.
"Very good. Let's get you cleaned up."
I heard her sigh as the cloth rubbed my face roughly.
"Look at you – blood all over the front and back of you." When she pulled away, I glanced down at my skirt as I sat on the counter. The ooze that had puzzled me so before was everywhere. A black stain soaked the cloth through. I couldn't see nor tell how bad my back was.
"Is this…all mine?" I asked in wonder. The pain had subsided, leaving only soreness between my shoulders and an ache in my chest for which the reason I couldn't determine.
"Well, it isn't mine!" A whiny voice interrupted. That interesting tugging sensation returned between my shoulder blades, and suddenly Ragnarok was hanging over my head, his fists pressing down on my cheeks and nose from above.
"You're a mess!" He teased. Stretching behind me, my hands came to brush my back lightly, with nothing obstructing my reach. Ragnarok wasn't standing behind me. And then I came to realize something I could barely imagine.
Medusa witnessed my enlightenment, and she chuckled shallowly in glee.
"Remember, Crona?" I looked up in question, not quite sure what to do. "Remember when I told you, that you would become stronger? That you wouldn't be lonely anymore? That nothing would ever hurt you again?
"You like Ragnarok, don't you?"
"Yes," I said after a pause. He remained silent, listening intently himself. He seemed to be content in the position he was in, but still curious as to what she had to say.
"Well, I made it so that you will never have to stand alone ever again. Ragnarok will be right next to you wherever you go. And you won't hurt anymore. Here," she walked over to a drawer, carefully pulling out a scalpel. The tiny blade flashed white in the artificial light surrounding us. "Let me show you."
Taking my wrist, she pulled my left forearm towards her. Tilting the flat side up, I saw the faint blue of my veins underneath my skin, and instantly I felt my heart jump into hyper drive. I could almost see my skin fluttering in panic.
Gently, the witch placed the blade on my arm, and then in a flash, drew it back towards herself with a jerk. It felt like a terrible bee sting, and I instantly shrieked, trying to pull myself out of her grasp. Her nails just bit into my arm all the tighter, and her snake eyes glared in annoyance at me. But her lips carried a smile.
"Quiet, Crona." Tears were already on my lids, but I tried to stifle them. I didn't want those claws to release my arm only to strike me elsewhere. I wanted to be good, so I did my best to stay still. Medusa's glare softened. "Look..."
Although I didn't want to, my eyes followed hers down towards my arm. From the cut, a long trail of dark ooze flowed downward, dripping onto the tiled floor. It was as black as the Darkroom, void of any color or light.
But I had thought...I had thought blood was...
Medusa then quickly grabbed a cloth nearby and wiped the cut dry of fluid. Underneath, the slice was clean and had split wide open. But within seconds, something incredible happened.
The pain had already disappeared long before the magic occurred, but I had just noticed it then. The cut began to shrink, the ends seemingly being pulled together by invisible stitches, until the injury disappeared altogether. Nothing, not even a scar, stood in its place.
"As I suspected," Medusa crooned. She finally let go of my arm, and I pulled it towards me, my tiny fingers grazing and pushing at the vacant cut.
"Given time, Crona," the witch began as she turned around. "you will learn to control your new gift. Right now, you know nothing, but Ragnarok is forever in you, fused with you."
"We're what?" Ragnarok squeaked, his little fists beating down on top of my head. I reached up, trying to dislodge him from my ears, but moving him proved difficult.
"You share each others' energy and each others' strength. A weapon's blood now flows in your veins. With Ragnarok's help, learn to control it, and it can become the ultimate shield and sword."
She clasped her hands together with excitement, yellow eyes seemingly glowing in anticipation of some idea she had in her head.
"Oh, this is too perfect! You'll grow up to be so strong, and eventually, you can become more powerful than anything, Crona! You will become more useful than any tool, more infallible than any wall, and more dangerous than any weapon Shibusen has ever created. I have surpassed them; I have done it!" And then she laughed heartily. She laughed so hard, that she finally had to place her hands underneath her ribcage, trying to catch her breath. I wanted to shrink and squirm away, and Ragnarok's fingers pulled uncomfortably at my hair.
"But...but I don't want to become a weapon," I mumbled, looking down at my arm. Medusa looked at them furrowing her brow, a frown appearing that made me very uncomfortable. I even thought I felt Ragnarok shiver slightly, and thinking otherwise he disappeared. I felt him retreat to safety from between my shoulders. He was gone.
"I have given you what you wanted, dear Crona. You are no longer alone and, after a while, you will no longer feel pain. Is this the way you thank your mother, dislike and rejection of a free gift?"
There wasn't anything I could say to defend or change myself. I could only shiver and imagine myself vanishing, but as hard as I wished Medusa didn't leave.
"Well, I will teach you a new lesson for today, child. You will learn to be grateful when others work so hard to do something for you. Appreciation isn't free!" And in a swift movement, her arms had whipped upward, and her snake eyes flashed dangerously.
Within an instant, I was constricted by hissing shadows and swallowed in darkness, and before I knew what was happening, I had been thrown harshly into a very familiar room of emptiness. Sore and frightened, I tried to pick myself, only to see the final sliver of light disappear behind the door. It clamored shut with a bang.
Medusa wasn't very happy with me.
Pausing, I sat there and wondered how long it would be before I would see that beam of light again. Of course I couldn't actually tell how much it was, but it felt like a really, really long time...
The gravel felt warm and pleasant, the small pebbles falling back to the ground from between my spidery fingers. The falling bits of earth and rock made a wonderful sound, although I can't really explain why. Maybe it was because, as rough as the gravel was, the sound it made falling was smooth and steady. I really liked that.
The sun beat down, its flaming mane branching out across the sky. The day was almost cloudless, and the burning star laughed merrily to see people struggle to find shelter from the heat.
I sat on the wooden plank that served as a raised edge at a nearby playground Although the sand was getting to the point of being too hot to play in, I continued to pick it up and let it fall through my hands, not even noticing the minor burn marks that would appear, then disappear the next instant upon my palms and fingers.
Ragnarok wasn't present, but I knew he was there. He was always there. I would have liked him to come out and talk to me, but he still refused to show his face when there were people around. I didn't bother asking him, but reached down with my finger to draw lines and random designs in the crushed rocks. I noticed one side of my skirt was forming rags of trailing fabric...I suppose I would have to fix it later.
"Aren't you hot?"
The voice was so sudden, I almost leapt out of my skin. My finger froze in mid stroke, and looking up to my left, I saw a little boy staring at me curiously. He had bronze hair and stunning, big green eyes. In blue shorts and a light, white tee, he looked to be about my age. He was leaning forward, hands on his knees, looking at me with unashamed closeness. I started to back away, sliding down the wooden siding of the playground.
"You're wearing so much black. Mama says that dark clothes get really warm. Aren't you too hot?" He asked again, puzzled. Finally, I shook my head.
"N-no, I'm o-okay." Ragnarok stayed silent. Maybe he was sleeping to avoid talking to me.
The boy smiled, cocking his head.
"Whatcha doing? Are you drawing?" I glanced down at my lines in the gravel, not seeing anything in particular.
"Not really. I'm just...waiting."
"For what?"
So many questions! I didn't know how to answer them, and it didn't seem like he was going to go away. Of course, Ragnarok could scare him away, but he wasn't doing anything!
"I don't know. Until it's time to go back home, I guess..." The boy stood back up, a pondering expression coming to his face. Finally, he grinned and said,
"Would you like to come and play with me?"
My head whipped up in question. What did he just ask?
"B-but-"
"Come on! I'll show you my magic ship! It takes us into the underwater world where the evil crab king is ruling over all the poor fish!" With that, he reach forward and, grabbing my wrist, tugged me towards the center of the playground where large sets of obstacles and buildings created a small city set to becoming anything with some imagination.
Coming to one with a red rooftop, he lead me through a tube and clamored up to a square shaped shelf above the ground. Ropes and ladders hung off the sides, a large spiraling slide down one end, and board walks connected it to the other pieces of the play-city.
"Here!" He said, pointing to one of the sides. Looking over the railing, you could see all the way down to the ground and easily see the entire play area. "From this point, you steer the ship. I'm the captain," he said pointing his thumb at his chest and beaming brightly. "So, I get to give all the commands. But you can be my first-mate!"
"W-what does a first-mate do?" I asked tentatively. "I've never played this game before..." He laughed.
"A first-mate is a captain's best friend!"
I had never heard those words directed towards me before, so I must have stared rather stupidly, but he just grabbed my wrist again and giggled.
"I'll show you the brig! It's where we put all the bad people of the crew when they misbehave, and then we'll set sail to stop the evil crab king!"
He was so excited to show me everything, and he described all the places and bits of the ship in such detail. I couldn't see anything, although I tried very hard. The way he was so thrilled to show off his ship, it must have been very pretty to look at. I wished I could have seen it.
He would command me around, shouting things like, "Lower the sails, first-mate!" and "Are we clear off the bow, first-mate?" and "Stand-by at the helm, first-mate!" Every single time, I had no idea what he was talking about and would have to ask him what and where everything was. He was incredibly patient, never getting angry. In fact, he would end up doing whatever job he assigned me himself, but he seemed pleased to show off to someone. And then, he said, I would know how to do it next time.
"Ahoy! I see a friendly ship!" He shouted, hands cupped around his eyes. ("Binoculars" he said they were.) "They're inviting us to board! Come on, first-mate! To one of our lifeboats!"
"W-What?" I had to ask. "W-Where are they?"
"Just come with me!" His excitement could barely be contained, and he tugged me roughly over to the spiral slide. Almost leaping down, we slid and twisted to the bottom, and once off the ship, he jumped and took off across the pebbles to a neighboring structure.
When I tried to follow him, I felt a sudden tug on my skirt. The ragged tails I noticed earlier had gotten worse with play, and they had caught underneath my feet getting off the slide. In an instant, I had tripped and fallen, crashing to the ground hard. I yelped in surprise as I slammed forward, and I heard his footsteps stop.
My face in the ground, I groaned in embarrassment as I heard him come up.
"Are you okay, first-mate?" He asked concerned. Placing my hands underneath, I picked myself up, brushing off the rocks from my tangled hair. I felt my cheeks getting warm, upset that I had slowed him down, but before I could say anything, he gasped.
"You're hurt!" Confused, I followed his gaze to my left arm. The dark sleeve had been torn and ripped, and my skin had been exposed to the abrasive gravel. It looked like I had slid a decent distance on it, and turning around I saw that the slide's mouth was several running steps away.
I was bleeding, and I quickly tried to wipe the blood away. I suddenly became aware of the black blood, and for some reason I didn't want him to see it. But as I pressed my arm with my hand, the cuts became exposed...while in the process of healing. The boy's green eyes apparently didn't miss anything, imaginary or not.
"Wow!" He instantly grabbed my wrist to pull my arm to get a closer view. "Look, they're disappearing!" I looked away, scared and ashamed. I had been having fun, and now it was all going to end because of this. He would be frightened by it and not want to play anymore.
"That's so cool!" He exclaimed, grinning. "How do you do that?" I looked back at him, puzzled, not fully understanding.
"W-what do you m-mean?" I stuttered. Ragnarok, where were you? You could scare this boy away and we'd be able to go home!
"Make your hurts go away? Can you show me how?" He came really close, as if staring at me would show him how it worked.
"I...I don't know. I guess I just don't think about it, and it goes away." I admitted. That much was true. I didn't have to think about it. Ragnarok took care of me...
He seemed confused, but finally smiled again.
"I think it's really cool."
"...you do?" I couldn't believe it, but he laughed.
"Can you show me again?" I paused for a second, but he looked at me with such anticipation and admiration. The entire day I had done everything he had wanted me to do, but it was fun. Now he wanted to watch me do something he couldn't do...I wanted him to say it was cool again.
So, looking about, I found a rock the size of a fist tucked away next to a support beam. Rolling up my sleeve on my left arm, I took the rock in my right hand. Taking a deep breath, I slammed the rock down on my forearm as hard as I could. I didn't even flinch. The boy watched in fascination, and when I lifted up the stone, my forearm displayed a swelling lump, and my pale skin had already begun turning black and blue.
But as fast as the injury appeared, the swelling then began to shrink. The colors faded and disappeared. Before 15 seconds were up, the wound was as if it had never existed.
"That's so neat! You've gotta tell me – how do you do that?" He clapped his hands. I smiled sheepishly, not knowing what this feeling was. Was it embarrassment? Pride? Fear? I don't know. All I know was that he was liking something I could do. He...he was admiring me...
"I just...try not to think about it, and it doesn't hurt. And then it just heals by itself."
"Can I try?" He asked eagerly. At first I didn't know how to answer, but he was looking so expectantly at me...
"...okay." Unsure as to what to do next, I looked at my hands, the large rock still in my right hand. Finally, I looked back at him. "Hold out your arm."
Sticking his tongue out slightly and rolling up his sleeve, he offered his right forearm.
"Don't hold anything back, first-mate!" He grinned. "I want to see a big bruise disappear!"
I gently took his wrist. Ragnarok was silent. Lifting the stone up, I brought it down on his arm in a big swing.
He immediately squeaked, pinching his eyes closed and biting his lip hard. When he opened his eyes again, they sparkled in the sun with tears. But he didn't pull his arm away.
"Just don't think about it...and it heals..." he mumbled. I felt my fingers tighten their grip, and I raised the stone again. I brought it down in the exact same spot, harder this time.
The boy couldn't hold back his shriek this time. Taking his left arm, he tried to pull his right arm out of my grasp.
"Okay, okay, that really hurt...I don't think..."
But I ignored him. I struck him again, slamming to stone on his arm. My fingers held so tight, his fingers could barely move. He yanked and pulled, but he couldn't escape. I hit him one, two, three more times in the arm with the stone. He started to cry, shouting at me.
"Stop! Stop it, Crona! It hurts!"
But I didn't understand. He had wanted me to show him, so I was. And it felt nice to have something finally respond to something I did. No matter how hard I tried, Medusa never noticed me unless she wanted to see me. Ragnarok bullied me and pulled my hair, and when I actually wanted to talk to someone, he refused to say a word. Now I finally had a friend, and he wanted me to show off something I could do. Why was he suddenly changing his mind?
"Stop! Stop! Crona, stop it!" He wailed, jerking and tugging. I felt tears coming to my eyes. Why was he suddenly wanting to leave? I had done everything he had said! I hit him harder still, suddenly angry that he changed mind, even when I had done nothing wrong.
"Thomas? Thomas!" The sun was suddenly blotted out by a tall figure, and I was so surprised that I released my grip. The boy dropped to the ground, instantly cradling his arm into his chest as he sobbed. His arm was horrifically bruised and swelling, red blood dribbling down onto the gravel. Red blood that was completely different from mine, completely normal. A larger arm came around his body, lifting him up to the safety of his mother.
"What is going on here?" She demanded. Looking at her little boy, and then glaring at me holding my stone. "What is wrong with you?" She shouted at me, her fury spitting clear from her lips.
I dropped the stone, hearing the thud as it fell to the ground, disturbing the crushed rock at my feet. And then I suddenly realized that the boy was severely hurt. He wasn't going to heal, not like me. After all, his blood was red...
"What were you thinking? You were hurting him! Stay away from my son! You horrible creature...you awful, wicked child!"
With that outburst, she violently turned away, her protective arms encasing the boy Thomas as he was whisked away. I could still hear him sniffle and whimper, each movement being painful for him.
I stood there dazed. I had done that. I had hurt him...but I did what he said! I had been his friend...his friend...
I suddenly was so dizzy, I had to squat down. Putting my hands up to my face, I pinched and pulled at my hair, trying to bring back my senses. But the world wouldn't stop spinning. Maybe the heat was finally getting to me, although I wasn't alone now. Ragnarok would never let something like the sun get to me, no matter how hot it was or how hard it laughed.
Ragnarok finally spoke, the quiet voice blunt and harsh.
"Idiot."
I don't exactly recall how it happened, but I found myself returning to the house. Medusa was already there, waiting for me.
"You were gone for quite a while. Where did you go?" She sincerely asked. Then she spotted my arm, my ragged dress, and the torn sleeve. "And what did you get into?"
I stopped in my tracks, staring at the tiled floor. I didn't want to answer her, and I refused to. Sensing the witch get irritated, Ragnarok suddenly appeared. I felt his weight sitting on top of my head. Was he getting bigger?
"Crona attacked a boy! Crona beat him up really good!"
"I did not!" I shouted back up to him. "I just...I just..." Medusa crossed her arms, some slight confusion twisting her lips. At least she wasn't angry.
"You beat him up?" I lifted my arm slightly, letting it swing back down to my side.
"I tripped and fell. He saw my black blood, and he wanted to know how I did it when the cut got all better. He thought it was cool...he was the captain, I just did what I was told..."
Medusa chuckled, shaking her head lightly.
"Oh Ragnarok," she said suddenly changing the subject. "Look how big you're getting! Crona must be much stronger than she realizes. Come you two. I think it's time."
I lifted my head up finally to look at her, but she had already turned around and started down the hallway. Ragnarok leaned over my head to look at me upside down.
"You heard her, stupid. Go follow her!"
With him pretty much tugging me in the proper direction, we suddenly ended up in the kitchen. A large box with a crated side was on the floor. Medusa was standing nearby, and she turned to face us when we entered. Hands on her hips, she focused her attention on us, and I suddenly felt very vulnerable. Something wasn't right.
"You're different now, Crona dear. You are stronger and tougher than any other kid out there. Things that don't hurt you can easily hurt others, but that's exactly what you want."
"I-It is?" I mumbled. My fingers began to pinch at my skirt, my heart beating at unease.
"Yes, of course! Which is why you'll have to learn how to ignore those that do get hurt if you want to prevent yourself from ever feeling pain again. You can only get stronger if you allow yourself to."
Then she turned and knelt down next to the crate, lifting up the bolts that kept the crated side closed securely. Curious, I stared as she pulled the bars away, and then walking behind the box, lifted the back end to pour out its inhabitant.
I yelped as a dragonet plopped onto the ground. It's shiny black hide, leathery wings and shiny fangs already looked very dangerous for being just a hatchling. Eyes glowing fiercely, it cawed in protest as it was spilled onto the hard ground. It clawed at the tile floor, disliking the cold and texture, but it didn't move. I wondered if it was too scared to.
Medusa then calmly walked over to the counter and picked up something. When she arrived to me, I noticed that in her hands was a long, sharp, shiny knife. It looked brand new, as if it had never been used before. Holding it gently towards me, she smiled serenely.
"I want you to kill it, Crona."
I felt my hands jolt up to my collar, gripping at my neck in panic. She must have seen the horror in my eyes, because her smile vanished as quickly as my hands moved.
"No! No, I c-can't!"
"And why not?" she asked quietly. I closed my eyes to the world, shaking my head harshly. I could feel Rangarok's fists tighten their grip on my hair to prevent from sliding around, but that sensation was hardly the thing on my mind at the moment.
"Because, I just can't! It didn't ask to be killed! It didn't do anything wrong!" Medusa sat up straight, glowering at me from above.
"And why is that a problem? How do you expect to get stronger if you don't give something in return? This dragonet isn't as powerful as you, but it can still harm you. Once everything that can harm you is gone, then you truly become invincible."
"But I don't want to kill it!" I shouted at her. "I won't do it!" My defiance made the room go completely silent, and I felt Ragnarok shutter. In an instant, he sought shelter in my back. It looked like Medusa had stopped breathing.
"Very well, then," she finally said. "I'll allow you some time to prepare." With that she slowly lifted up a finger and, pointing in the direction behind me, spoke her spells.
Suddenly a force I couldn't resist or hope to fight lifted me up into the air. With my legs flailing, I rocketed through the house, and I was tossed harshly once more into the one place I hated more than anything. The door behind me slammed shut in anger, the spell carrying Medusa's distaste with it.
Picking myself up, I arranged myself to a sitting position, tucking my knees in and burying my face in my arms. I wanted to cry, but as hard as I breathed tears refused to form. I heard more than felt Ragnarok come back.
"Crona, you moron! Listen to Medusa! I'm sick of being put in this place again and again and again! I'm not doing anything wrong – this is all your fault! I have to suffer too, you know. Why don't you just do as she says?" I tried my best to ignore his pleads, but then he started to hit me. He would do that when his words wouldn't get through to me. Although it didn't physically hurt, his shouts stabbed into me worse than anything.
"Because, I...I don't want to..." I spoke muffled into my sleeves. "I don't want to hurt it..."
"Why do you care what that creature thinks? Act a little more selfish! I want to get out of here!" He kept beating on my head, and I tried to swat him away. Then he pulled at my face, peeling back my mouth into a painfully tight smile.
"Ouch...stop it!..." I whined. "I don't know what to do...I just don't know how to handle this!"
He snapped back my face, and I rubbed my cheeks gently.
"Well, figure it out soon," the weapon spat angrily.
And I did sit there for a while. I had no way of keeping track of time, but the dark was miserable. It was cold and hard, and Ragnarok kept fitzing around, continuously blaming me for everything. It's not like I wanted to be in here too! I was sick of it...I didn't like it it in here either...
"You dummy! Why don't you get over it already?" Ragnarok hissed batting at my ears. I refused to answer him, wallowing in pity and...and...and...
I finally decided it was hate. I hated this place. I hated her. I hated Ragnarok. I hated that boy in the park. ...I hated absolutely everything that moment.
'Just get over it'? How could it be just that easy? I couldn't believe something like that. I just couldn't...
Finally, I felt the heavy lingering of isolation disappear. I heard the lock click open, and the heavy door on the other side of the large room opened. Yellow light started in, so bright I could only see a menacing silhouette in the entrance.
"Have you had enough time to think?" I heard her words slither past, as cold and lifeless as the snakes tattooed on her skin.
My hands were trembling, but my legs reacted. I had to take this chance, or it wouldn't come again. Hastily I scrambled up.
"Please, Medusa, let me out! I want to come out!" Maybe if I just asked she would-
"Will you kill the dragonet?" She interrupted me. I swallowed, but taking a step forward, I tried again.
"Please, just let me out! I don't like it in here! I don't want to be in here anymore!"
Medusa just pursed her lips, and turning away, waved a finger in the air. The door began to shiver, and slowly picked up speed to swing inward. My arms sunk towards my sides as I watched it close, the slivers of warmth vanishing with the bang.
In an instant, Ragnarok burst out, grabbing onto my hair and ears again, pulling and yanking harder than last time.
"You idiot! What do you think you're doing begging at her like that? She locked us in here again! You moron – it's all your fault! Why do you have to be so stupid? Cronaaaaaa!"
I was on my knees, using my hands to protect my head as best I could to Ragnarok's vicious beating. He spat and hissed on top of me, cursing me with everything he had.
"I had a better life out in the streets before I met you!" He snapped. "At least out there I could take stand up for myself. I wasn't permanently attached to someone so weak, they couldn't handle anything. I have to do everything myself! You can't do anything unless first told to, and then I end up doing all the work anyway. You're worthless, Crona! Pitiful, disgusting, wretched, and absolutely useless!"
His words bit deep, and I felt my throat tighten. He was right...he was right...
Then suddenly...something entered my mind. I hated the unfair world...I loathed it.
Abruptly clenching my fists, he felt me tense up.
"Stop it."
He paused in his onslaught, his little gloved fists hovering above me.
"C...Crona?"
"I said, 'stop it.'" Pushing up off the floor, I arranged myself into a sitting position. My legs stuck straight out in front of me, hands resting on the ground between them. If I squinted, I could see them.
Thomas...I had hurt him with these hands...
"I did just as I was told. I did nothing wrong."
Ragnarok suddenly became very nervous. Leaning forward, he cautiously placed his hands down on my shoulders, peering around to look at me from the side.
"Crona...are you feeling okay?" I ignored his remark. As if he would show me any genuine concern. After all, it was my fault he was in this mess, wasn't it?
"I did exactly as he asked; it was his own fault he got hurt. I've done everything Medusa has asked." My shoulders then bounced lightly...I had briefly laughed. "I'm a good kid...really I am.
"Maybe," I then considered out loud. "...maybe if I just keep doing what I'm told, things will get better. Medusa was right about that...I don't feel it anymore." My right hand automatically trailed over to my left arm, my fingers gently touching the now nonexistent scar where the syringe had punctured over and over.
I chuckled again, the movement new and unexpected. Ragnarok was tossed slightly, and he didn't like that. He instantly clamped down on my shoulders to gain stability.
"You're right, Ragnarok," I began again. I felt him shift uneasily.
"I am?" Why did he sound so shocked? He had always made his accusations so confidently before. Was he doubting himself? No matter. At least I knew it to be true.
"I don't know how to handle things. But maybe I don't have to. I can just listen to what Medusa says, you can help, and then I don't have to worry about handling things on my own. It's so simple."
I leaned back a little, lifting my knees off the ground so as to grab around them with my hands. I looked up at the ceiling, wishing with all my will that the door would open one more time.
"Eventually I'll figure things out. That woman in the park called me something...she said I was 'wicked.' I'm not sure what she means, exactly, because I've never done wrong. Right?."
After a slight pause, Ragnarok answered.
"No, no you haven't Crona. You did exactly as you were told," Ragnarok agreed. I could feel his head nodding, as if he had to reassure himself.
"But if I have to be wicked, that's okay. I'll make things better...for the both of us."
"...Crona..." Ragnarok was at a loss of words, but before he could say anything else, my wish came true. I heard the lock, and the ominous creak of the metal door. The light poured inside again, the claws of shadows retreating in fear.
"Have you considered long enough now, Crona?"
I didn't respond immediately to her, but I did move. I stood up slowly, faced her, faced the light and the sunshine. When she saw my face, at first I noticed slight surprise on her lips, but then they relaxed into a smile. It took me a second to figure out that I was copying that gesture - I was smiling too. The sensation on my cheeks was so foreign. Ragnarok was perched on my right shoulder, and I sensed him grin as he spotted the light ahead.
Without any obstruction, I walked through the doorway, Medusa leading the way back to where I had started before being locked away.
Although I wasn't surprised, I did find it interesting that the dragonet was still there in the kitchen, almost as if it had never moved at all. Smoke trails trickled from its nostrils, its shiny claws clacking against the tile floor menacingly. Bright red eyes glared at me, warning me to back off.
But I didn't heed the message. In fact, I just cocked my head, smiling the entire time. Medusa handed me the knife again, and she gently pushed me forward.
"Kill it, Crona."
And I did.
It felt good, feeling something give way underneath me again. The creature put up little of a fight, or maybe it put up a grand fight, and I just couldn't tell. Ragnarok protected me, and he helped me end its life. But I did my part – I was the one who held the knife. It was a quick job; the knife did its work effectively.
I looked up at Medusa expectantly, and she was beaming down at me. Taking her hand, she placed it on top of my head, rubbing affectionately.
"Very good, Crona." And she took the blade gently from me. The metal gleamed red and black, dripping freely onto the floor.
I finally realized that whenever I listened to the witch, things were okay. I didn't have to handle stuff on my own, and now I knew I wouldn't ever have to again. Ragnarok was with me, just like Medusa said, and as long as I obeyed her wishes, it was easy for me.
I wasn't a wicked child. That adult knew nothing of what she was talking about. I was a good child. I always had been.
I didn't particularly like the place where I was set, but Medusa had said this would be the setting. She said it would be a perfect treat for Ragnarok, and looking around me, I could believe it.
The church really was beautiful, in a dark, creepy kind of way. The lovely stained glass windows shining above the sanctuary glowed eerily blue as the moonlight trickled through. It's glow cast haunting shadows under the pews and along the corners, but the shadows remained cowering in their places. The cold floor was painted yellow and black, the artwork reflecting the moonlight to illuminate a lot of that around, except the corners where the shadows hid. Nothing crept out to see me or face me, though. I suppose I must have been frightening.
But, they still weren't very happy to see me. I suppose it was only a given. After all, I had interrupted and had entered unheeded, but Medusa had said I was to. So I did, simple as that.
"Hey, what are you doing? What's up with you, pink hair?"
"You weren't invited. You shouldn't just come into places and meetings that aren't yours."
"What kind of freak dresses like that...and look at that funny stick..."
I didn't like their words, and it made me very nervous. Medusa had told me that I was to go into this meeting. It would be a gift for Ragnarok, an entire feast of souls. After all, only allowing him to eat souls would he continue to get bigger still. Eventually, he would become something so great that nothing could beat us. At least that's what Medusa said over and over again.
'A kishin,' she would say with a longing look glowing from her snake-like amber eyes. Her fingers often would stroke her braided hair gently, as if she could see the potential creature before her in awe. 'A kishin, a demon sword, the ultimate weapon beyond measure. Crona, if you become something such as this, I could never, ever be more proud of you...'
So, I figured, why not? As long as I followed what Medusa said, I could do it. Sometimes it was hard, though, like now.
I had never faced so many at once before, and they formed a complete circle around me. I looked down at the black blade in my left hand, its sleek, broad form nothing in comparison the way I first met him. He was more stunning than ever, but even with him in my grasp...I still felt myself tingling with nervousness.
"No," I whispered. "I don't think I can do it...I'm not ready yet...I'm not even close to being a kishin..."
"Eh? Speak up, freak!" One of the men spat at me. "You've better got a good reason to be interrupting something as important as our meeting!"
I gripped the hilt harder, my right hand crossing over to grasp my left arm. It seemed better, as if my gesture was holding me together, but I still felt very exposed.
"It's okay...Crona..."
I heard her speak. Medusa was waiting outside, patiently, just for me.
"But I..."
"Have faith in yourself. You will become a kishin."
I sensed her words surround me, and suddenly the wind shifted within the church. The heavy bell above tolled, the pendulum striking the surface and creating a resonance that echoed across the city streets. Suddenly, all my nerves vanished, being replaced with calm and stability. Ragnarok was warm in my hand. Medusa's magic no doubt.
But she had faith in me. She trusted me to do this. It felt wonderful...so wonderful that I started to laugh. Quietly at first, but it grew and grew until the men around me could hear it too. They stopped their antics, pausing in their criticism.
"Hey, what's so funny, freak?" One of them spoke up. "This is our place. Don't make the mistake in thinking you can just walk in and out just like that, you dirty little punk."
"Actually," I spoke loudly for all to hear, lifting my head up. "this is public place. None of it is owned exclusively by you, or anyone else for that matter."
"Huh?" He snapped back, raising a fist. Apparently that had offended him. Oh well.
"You all are very selfish people, which is why Ragnarok is going to eat you all."
I looked downward at the blade extending from my hand.
"Ragnarok? Screaming Resonance."
A smile of cherry red lips pushed through the stiff folds of metal that comprised the sword. The mouth grinned eagerly with anticipation, bearing sparkling fangs. When the mouth opened, a terrible screech bellowed forth, causing the very air to vibrate and shake. The mend' hands instantly snapped up to their heads in an attempt to block out the painful attack, but most of them simply fell to the floor, helpless. I watched their pitiful efforts in blocking their ears, the sound not affecting me.
"This reminds me of something funny from yesterday," I chuckled. Looking up, I stared at the tall ceiling, wondering where Medusa was exactly behind the wood and stone, hovering within the glare of the moon on her broom. Are you watching me, Medusa? Am I doing a good job?
"But I can't remember what it was," I mumbled in disappointment. Sighing, I looked back at Ragnarok, the sword writhing in my hand with impatience.
It had been several years since the incident with the dragonet. Now, Ragnarok had grown to be massive. When he appeared, he stood as a giant shadow hovering many feet above me, casting a protective darkness over my frail, thin body.
'I promise you, Crona,' Ragnarok had said to me a while ago before this mission. 'I promise I will transform into the true Demon Sword, and you will become a Kishin. When that happens, the witch will be happy, and no one will ever beat on you or call you bad names again...'
He was ready, and now...so was I.
"But one thing I do know is this," I spoke as I lifted my weapon up, his weight barely nothing to my frail, thin arms. I could feel him inside, his blood pulsing through with mine, giving me strength. Giving me power. "My blood is black..."
...and yours is not.
Thoughts and comments are welcome. Thank-you very much for reading! :)
