Author's Note: Written for my Twilight Town post at KH Request (on LJ), for the-hedgehog69 with the prompt: perfection. (This went more with a lack of perfection. I don't even remember what I was thinking when I wrote this, actually.) She returned the favor by scratching my Roxas/Fuu itch! And good god. Every time I write a member of Organization XIII there's an allusion to fairytales or Greek mythology. Every bloody time! I don't even mean to! Oh well, please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts.
Big Bad
Stupid, stupid, stupid, Olette berates herself as she retraces her steps. How could she have forgotten her munny pouch? She walks the same route every day!
The sunset is finally beginning to wane, shadows filling the alleyway when she gets there. Though it's her second home, she still prefers not to be there at night. Something about the way the wind coaxes their makeshift door to dance like a red ghost frightens her. Even Pence doesn't like it, though he never admits.
She ducks into their usual spot, mindful of the sheet hanging in the entrance. The metal fence creaks on its hinges behind her. The light cast down between buildings softens to a grey from the usual burnt orange. It's dim; Olette searches more with her hands than with her eyes, tossing up the cushions of her and Pence's favorite couch. She moves on to a pile of magazines then, growing increasingly frustrated, to the corner where they toss their sandals in case of random beach visits.
It's only when she looks up that she spots the shock of blond and moon-white skin framing such blue, blue eyes.
"Oh, I didn't see you there," Olette says nervously. Now she wishes she hadn't seen her, or spoken, and could just forget the munny and leave. The way the woman looks at her reminds her of something she's never seen. Of something hungry and selfish that tethers her there with fear.
"That's very rude." The woman's voice is lilting as if amused, but she clucks her tongue behind sharp teeth. "I was here the whole time."
"W-were you?" Olette swallows, drinking in her own fear and becoming intoxicated. This is silly, she thinks. But the woman's so slender and dark, like a vulture. Her skin seems effervescent as the night leaks down broken brick walls. A breeze blows in; the ghost begins to dance.
"I was," says the woman. She glides closer, legs fluid, cloak dripping off her body and swirling like smoke. "Am I that easy to ignore? Mean girls like you hurt my feelings, you know."
Nothing about this woman sounds sincere, but Olette says anyway, "I'm sorry. I should go."
"Are you lost?" asks the stranger, and she's the ghost now, burning so deathly white. "That's no good. You might never find your way to grandma's house now."
The woman closes in on her like an eclipse; something in Olette has her moving backward. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do." She reaches spindly ashen fingers toward Olette's face, nails grazing her cheek. Olette's flesh runs cold; her shoulder blades press against the alley wall. The woman grins, a lock of hair winding around one finger. "Though you're not exactly red, are you?" Just then she sighs, serpent smirk slipping from her lips, her hand falling to her side. "And red's what I'm looking for."
Olette stares a moment, then jerks awake to painful fear and awareness and runs as fast she can, disappearing through the scarlet curtain and past the squealing fence. Behind her she can hear a woman's violent laughter and, very subtle, the wolf's piercing howl.