Disclaimer : I don't own Claymore
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Flee.
Run.
Those were the two foremost words in the small figure's mind as she slowly, painstakingly trudged across the forest floor. And indeed, the only thing preventing her from running was the sole fact that she couldn't run, instead being forced to stab her makeshift crutches into the mud and hopping on her bare remaining foot.
How? The thought echoed in a deeper part of her mind. How had it gone so wrong?
Mere hours earlier, Riful of the West had been at the height of her power, eagerly awaiting to get a new 'friend', one who would help her restore the old status quo between her and Isley.
And right now, here she was, scrambling as best as she could for her life, naked safe for a tattered dress, and in such a pathetic state that even a single middle-ranking warrior could take her out.
Though she was loath to admit it, it had been a huge mistake; she had grossly misjudged the true nature of her find. Had she known, she would have personally destroyed it the instant she had come across it. Maybe she wouldn't be in this mess now.
And even then, she wasn't so sure. Her encounter with the Organization's weapons was proof enough. Creatures that were relentlessly chasing her, a controlled Awakened Being apparently designed for the sole purpose of fighting her…
Ironically, she had been saved by the very being she had released. She would have laughed if the circumstances weren't so dire.
The second encounter with the trackers had gone worse, as she had been damaged during the previous fight and the volley of projectiles. Now the black-clad warrior hadn't needed to Awaken to push her back. Indeed, she would have died there and then if the Claymore hadn't rushed off to support her sibling.
In a second twist of fate, she had been saved by another uncontrollable monster with unfathomable power, the only thing that had terrified her ever since her ascension.
The monster she had faced shortly after.
This time, her survival was solely due to sheer luck.
She had barely managed to move her vital organs out of the way of the arm shoved through her, and the numerous spikes it had sprouted. They had been damaged, but not destroyed. The shock had nonetheless been enough to knock her out. Before losing consciousness, she dimly remembered lowered her remaining Yoki as much as she could.
In other words, she had played dead.
She, the feared ruler of the Western lands, the first female warrior to reach Number One status, was only alive because she had, in her mind, hidden like a coward.
The humiliation she had felt during her desperate struggle was nothing compared to what she was feeling now.
As if to add to her shame, her foot tripped over a loose rock. Her weakened tendrils could not support her slight weight alone and she fell disgracefully, face first into the mud. In spite of herself, fresh tears mixed with the murky combination of earth and water.
Her first instinct was to call out for Dauf to help her up, until she remembered it would be pointless.
Dauf, stupid and oafish, honest and devoted, the only one who had ever accepted her unconditionally, was gone.
She remembered seeing him upon waking up, two parasitic projectiles embedded in his broad back. His howls had been of pure pain and animalistic fury, and a single look into his unseeing eyes had told her that his limited intellect was quickly being destroyed by the parasites. She had known at that moment that all that would remain would be a rampaging, mindless beast, one that most likely would only see her as a prey.
Injured as she was, she had barely managed to detach enough tendrils from her body to create a fake corpse, using up much of her remaining strength in the process and leaving her human form little more than a mostly-empty moving shell; hopefully it should buy her some time and distract Dauf from following her.
And minutes ago, she had felt his corrupted Yoki flare before being dwarfed by another, then disappear completely.
Riful was exhausted, weak, humiliated and dirty. Worst of all, she was now completely alone.
Riful had always hated being alone. Already as a human, she had sought others' company. Then as a warrior, she had remained very social, enjoying joint assignments and hanging out with the weaker hybrids. Even to this day, no joy could match finding a new friend, someone she could get along with and whose mere presence meant she wasn't alone.
Of course, being an Awakened restricted her options somewhat, hence being forced to convert Claymores to her point of view. But they were so difficult about it. Why did they always refuse the wonderful gift she offered them?
The injured Abyssal forcefully pushed those thoughts from her mind as she shakily propped herself up with her hair, no longer having arms to help herself. Now was not the moment for this. What she needed right now was rest and, above all, food. This was the most urgent. The current chaos would be enough for her to slink into the shadows so she could heal. From there she would be able to plan her next move.
With this purpose in mind, she resumed her trek through the forest. It was a slow process, but finally she found what she had been looking for, a path running along the trees.
A path meant travelers. Travelers meant humans. And humans meant guts.
Instead of walking onto the path however, Riful opted to continue through the bushes. While her harmless appearance had often helped her secure easy food, she was well aware that any human would be suspicious of a young girl not bleeding out from missing both arms and a leg.
Moving as silently as she could, she nonetheless kept an eye on the road. It seemed her luck was holding out as she came upon a cart minutes later. Instead of jumping out like the starving Awakened she was at the moment, she took the time to assess her prey, her sharp brown eyes narrowing into a predatory gaze.
Five full-grown adult men were standing around a cart dragged by a single horse. Judging from their well-muscled arms, which were exposed by their sleeveless shirts, they were all fit and in good health, promising a decent meal. Each of them carried a long spear at the ready, merely watching their surroundings without seeming overly cautious. She did catch a few nervous glances, but those were directed to whatever was in the cart. From her position, Riful could only see a leather tarp covering their cargo.
Looking at the bandanas hiding their faces, the Abyssal was somewhat started upon realizing that they belonged to the Organization; though they were not the black suits who collected the money, she recognized them as a recovery team.
Riful couldn't repress a sinister smile as she moved to a slightly better position. She was in this situation because of the Organization's weapons, so it was fitting for her to take her pound of flesh.
In more ways than one.
The Awakened may have been exhausted and severely weakened, but mere humans were still no match for her. Even if they had been aware of her presence, they would have had no time to react to the razor-sharp ribbons that shot from the bushes, not even perceptible to the human eye.
Four of them didn't even realize what had happened when their bodies exploded in gory bits, chunks of flesh and crimson blood painting the area. The last one had just enough time to see his innards dangling out from his open belly even as his limbs were severed. Before his body could even hit the ground, something had tackled him with surprising force and thrown him down.
Riful didn't even wait for her final prey to die before she began gorging herself, bending down and diving head first as she tore at the flesh directly with her teeth. In normal circumstances, she would have enjoyed the final look of sheer horror in the man's wide eyes but she was too busy with her meal to care.
Any rational thought left her the instant the flesh filled her mouth, leaving only the monster hidden beneath her human guise. The only things that mattered to her were her hunger and the primal pleasure to have it sated. She wouldn't have noticed if a Claymore had walked right behind her and taken her head.
She devoured the first four men like an animal would, not even caring about the blood staining her from head to toes. Her hunger was such that she actually consumed them whole rather than restricting herself to their guts. Once her conscious thoughts reasserted themselves, she happily noted that her limbs had regenerated and much of her strength had returned thanks to the feeding. By contrast, she actually took her time with the rest of her meal, enjoying the taste as well as the feeling of her power returning to her. Though not at full strength, she could at least use her true form if needed.
Now much calmer and confident in her ability to defend herself, Riful had to frown at herself.
Humans may only be food to her, but she still had table manners. She couldn't believe she had just lost it like that.
Not only that, but she now reeked of dried blood, which was starting to itch, and her tattered dress was now utterly ruined. Looking around in search for a replacement, she saw that the cloaks the men had been wearing had been shredded in her assault, not to mention they were now soaked with blood too.
In fact the only piece of fabric that had been spared was the tarp hiding whatever the men had been conveying. She was mildly surprised that the horse had not run away with the cart until she noticed that the animal had been an innocent victim of her frenzied attack. With a mental shrug, she removed the tarp, planning to use it as a cloak as soon as she had managed to bathe.
As soon as the cargo was revealed however, she froze.
Despite having recovered her ability to think straight, Riful had not really pondered what the Organization was doing here. Sure they were always looking for new specimens to study and experiment on, and she didn't doubt that the creature she had unleashed would draw their interest. But after seeing Dauf overtaken by the parasites in mere minutes, she knew anything they could find would be too much to handle without a full squad of warriors.
Consequently, she was rightly surprised when instead of a grotesque monster, she came face to face with a human, a young man just reaching adulthood. Though he was kneeling, she had to guess he was fairly tall, and his build and the armor he was wearing suggested he knew how to fight. She could see no weapon on him so either he had lost it or his captors had not bothered with it.
Riful had to admit he looked delicious, even with the blood slowly leaking from his scalp into his left eye, the look of pain on his face or his heavy breathing through gritted teeth.
In fact, the only reason she did not indulge into a sixth helping was the two rods embedded into his back and his left shoulder. Their nature was easily seen from the way they writhed and the beginnings of a face that could be seen at the tips, along with the occasional high-pitched cry as they tried to take over their host.
To a normal observer, it looked like the man was resisting being absorbed. To a Yoki-sensitive creature such as Riful, the truth was blindingly obvious, and it baffled and captivated her at the same time.
The man was not resisting.
He was being shielded.
Riful could feel the corrupted Yoki attempting to pour into the host's body, but it was prevented by another Yoki that kept it in check, originated from the man's back. Moving around, Riful saw the source, a severed hand and forearm also impaling him.
The Yoki signature on the other hand…
With a snarl, Riful instinctively leaped back in recognition for she knew this signature very well. It was the very same one that had been shoved through her and nearly killed her not two hours ago. Her first impulse was to just destroy this spawn of the abomination if only to vent some of her frustration.
The man didn't move, nor did he give any indication that he had noticed her sudden movement. In fact he didn't to seem to have noticed her at all. The fact that she didn't seem to register in his mind was enough to curb Riful's desire for petty revenge, and though the temptation remained, genuine curiosity was mingling with it.
Why?
This was the only question Riful could ask herself right now.
That monster seemed to care about nothing. Throughout their short conversation she had been dispassionate, like she and Dauf were no more important than a pair of pebbles on the road. Riful was loath to admit it, but the whole situation might have been avoided if the wounded couple had kept their cool at the time.
Then there was Isley's death. With her power, there was no doubt she could very easily have protected him from whatever had caused his demise. So either she hadn't been with him when it happened, meaning she had left her supposed lover a while ago, or she hadn't even tried to help him.
And now, here was something that she seemed to bother with. After all, the usual outcome of a human meeting an Awakened was clear, as Riful had just shown mere minutes ago. Even if she had not been hungry, she would have simply ignored the man and left him to whatever fate awaited him. Instead, that uncaring creature had actually helped him, by using some of her flesh no less!
And even this boggled Riful. With the amount of power that woman had, the power contained within that arm could, should have overwhelmed the parasites, killing them and probably the host as well. That it hadn't happened meant that somehow, the amount of Yoki inside the arm had been monitored to suppress the rods without harming the host.
Why?
Why would an Awakened, especially that one, go through this much trouble for a human?
Were they connected in some way?
And if so, why leave him now?
And more importantly, Riful thought, what should she do herself?
At the moment, the Yoki from the rods and the one from the arm were cancelling each other. There was no telling which would run out first, and what would happen to the man once it happened. This would depend on both the quality and the amount of the Yoki that would remain. And this in turn depended on how accurate the enigmatic Awakened had been in her assessment.
Besides, even if she had gotten it just right and both gave at the same time, just the lasting infusion of Yoki was bound to have consequences. So unless both foreign bodies were removed quickly and at the same time, it would result in a creature with characteristics Riful couldn't begin to imagine.
This alone was enough to raise her curiosity. After all, considering what the implanted flesh had come from, the latent potential may be immense – or pathetically low, she couldn't tell. Maybe by removing the parasites or the arm to speed up the process…
No, it might be better to leave it for now. Riful's previous experience had left her wary of dealing with an unknown creature without any inkling of its mentality, or gaining its loyalty first. In her current situation, even a weaker ally was better than nothing. Besides, a certain weak yet stubborn warrior had proven to be a large thorn in her side recently, she remembered grimly.
She pushed the irritation aside and resumed her considerations. This man would probably not have his place with the humans anymore, and any warrior was likely to attack him without question. Or the Organization would use him as a lab rat. He had nowhere to go. Just like her now, he was alone. If she played her cards right, force may not even be needed… with his confusion at his new condition, a few well-chosen words and a little kindness… give him a hand to latch on… and then maybe, just maybe…
A small but genuinely happy smile tugged at Riful's lips as the idea took form.
... for the first time in a long while, she may make a true friend.
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Author's note : After Raki was dumped by Clare and Priscilla, I was wondering what would happen if he met someone who wants friends, and seeing how he managed to change Isley, it would be interesting to see how he would affect Riful.
Definitely the fic that required the most work so far – it was written fairly quickly, but damn, 2 weeks of proofreading – Shieky wracked his brain, provided plenty of feedback and went as far as commenting on individual words.
This is really ironic since I do NOT intend to continue it (I may later on, but that's a very big maybe) : I have zero ability to plan ahead, make the difficult decisions a fic requires and stick to them. So instead, I'm turning this into a challenge and putting it up for adoption. I'll only give one rule, and a couple of elements so check my profile if you're interested.