Nobody, I Think
~1~ What is your Name?
"What is your name?" that is the question, isn't it? Who am I? I look up to the girl who bothered to approach me, and answer her quite truthfully.
"I'm nobody." her eyebrows furrow, and she persists with this useless questioning.
"Why is that?"
"Because I never wanted to be somebody." I state, looking back to my heavily abused fingernails.
After awhile, she gives up and walks away. Not surprising. Its only true, though. If I wanted to, I could have told her my name, but I guess I just didn't. I go to Shibusen, EAT class Crescent Moon, and I am an autonomous weapon under Lord Death. An assassin, and I am proud to say I have never been caught. My hair just brushes my shoulders, and is spiky and choppy and black. My eyes are a dark, acidic purple, and my skin is pale as death. I wear a long black coat over my shoulders, and a sleeveless skintight top, that leaves most of my stomach skin showing. My black combat boots go up to my knees, and have thick metal pipes sticking from the back base, which allow me to fly. White bandages are wrapped from my ankles to mid thigh, stopping just short of my black pleated skirt. I wear leather fingerless gloves over more white bandages that cover my arms, and a black scarf is wrapped around my mouth and nose, trailing behind me. My name is Nyx Vanheim, but I don't think I have ever told anyone that. People call me a recluse, a waste of space. I guess it might be true. I'm that person who sits in the back corner, never speaking. I don't have friends, and I have never wanted I could be somebody, but I don't think it matters.
DING DONG DEAD DONG
I look up from my inner monologue as the bell rings, signaling the end of class. Lunch is next, so I follow the flow of hungry children to the cafeteria, nabbing a hunk of melon bread and a bottle of apple juice off the rack. My secret pleasures. If I don't enjoy much else, I sure as hell will enjoy my lunch. I take my food and seat myself at the small table in the corner, leaning onto the back legs of the chair as I nibble at my bread. I close my eyes in sweet bliss, but some personal space intruder taps my shoulder. I crack one eye open, debating whether the disturbance is worth my time. Unfortunately, it is. Professor Stein stands in front of me, looking tall and creepy and crazy. He twists the metal knob in his head so that it clicks four times, and lets out a skull shaped puff of smoke. I can't see his eyes, as his glasses are reflecting the light.
"Professor, what is it that you need?" I ask, opening the other eye.
"You have another assassination mission, Black*Star messed it up again. Lord Death wants to see you immediately." I roll my eyes, standing up and chugging the remaining juice. That Star thinks he's so awesome, but he can't handle even a single assassination without blowing his cover. I nod once and head out of the cafeteria, to the Death Room, fingers laced behind my head. I look up at the ceiling, black boots clacking against the black and white tile floor. I don't notice running into anybody until I find my butt inexplicably smacking the floor, and I blink twice before looking up. Acid meets blood when my eyes meet his, and I can't help but wonder which demented deity devised this unexpected meeting. Soul Eater. I silently stand and brush of my skirt, before looking up to meet his eyes again. I ask a silent question: are you going to talk, or can I leave? He doesn't answer, so I make to walk off, but my wrist is caught in one of his hands.
"Wait-" he starts, and I turn just slightly, so I can see him out of one slitted eyes. "What is your name?"
"That is the question, is it not?" and I break from his grip, disappearing around the corner. I wonder if he stood there, staring after me. But that would be a ridiculous hope, wouldn't it?
When I walk into the Death room, DeathScyhte and Lord Death are having tea.
"Well hello there! How ya doin?" Lord Death greets, and I nod my head in response. "Alrighty then! I need you to assassinate Mr. James T. Willingham. His soul has become a kishin egg and he is leading others in his footsteps. I need him gone before he succeeds in turning more people over. Thanks for all your help!" I nod and walk out quickly, already brainstorming the fastest and easiest way to kill this guy. Unfortunately, for the second time today, I run into somebody. Its just my luck that it would be the same person. At least I didn't fall over this time, he did. As I make my way out the door he goes to stop me again, but this time I won't have it. I move my hand just enough for him to miss, and continue on my way. I head out the front doors of the school, activating my soul perception. Yeah, I'm a weapon with soul perception, get over it. Its what happens when your parents are... you know what, never mind. Ah, there's the target. Somewhere in Kentucky? Whatever. I stomp my left foot on the ground twice, and take off.
I arrive, two hours later, at an old warehouse. I land silently on the roof, calling forth my weapons. I have three forms, but I can't transform my whole body, so I have to work autonomously. The first is a pair of katars. They grow from my mid-forearm, and are a deadly sharp silver, curving wickedly into two points four inches from each fist. The hilt is a deep blood red, with three short poisoned points going outwards. The second form is what I like to call wolverine claws. They pop from between my knuckles, three to each hand, in the exact same style as the katars, but a bit shorter, with the same hilt at the base of each knuckle. The last form comes from my ankles, the same shape as the other two, traveling about a foot up my calves, hilt at the heel. I activate soul perception again, pinpointing the man's exact location, before pulling up an air vent and hopping inside. After a short bit of searching, I find him, sitting in front of a large computer, a bowl of blue souls sits next to him, and he plucks one up and eats it. What a disgusting midnight snack. I take a deep breath, and recite the assassins rules in my head.
1: Silence, Dissolve in the darkness and erase your breath, wait for an opening to attack your target.
2: Trans-positional Thinking, analyze the target in order to predict his thoughts and movements.
3: Speed, take out the target before he notices your presence.
I snap my eyes open, barely breathing, and slip from the vent, not making so much as a sound as I hit the ground. It takes only three seconds to slit his throat and eat his soul. I lick my fingers, relishing the feel of the squishy orb sliding down my throat. That's twenty-three. I slip out the way I came in, walking off to look for a store window or something. Finding one easily, I breathe on the glass and write in the code. 42-42-564, whenever you want to knock on Death's door. The glass rings, sending little ripples across it as an image appears.
"Wassup, wassup, wassup? Was the mission a success?" I nod. "way to go! How many souls have you collected now?" I hold up to fingers on one hand and three on the other. "Five? I thought you had more than that? What happened?" I roll my eyes.
"Twenty-three. I have twenty-three souls collected." he claps his big box hands.
"Very good! There are about three hours left in the school day, ca you make it back in time?" I nod. It will only take two to get back, I can get to last hour.
"Good, good. Have a nice day!" and the window closes. I stomp my foot twice and head back to Shibusen.
I land at the front door of the school, and walk into the building. Thankfully, I make it to class without running into anyone, and walk in casually. I don't even look at Stein before making my way to my seat in the far back left corner, I know he's dissecting and I also know that he already knows where I was. Unlike the usual, though, there are a set of eyes on me. I don't need to look up to know that. As an assassin, knowing when someone sees me is like a sixth sense. My eyes flick up for a fraction of a second, and I prove my suspicions correct. Soul Eater is staring at me. I don't know why, and I don't particularly care either, so I continue with my sketch. I don't pay much attention in class, I guess that's why my grades aren't all As like Maka Albarn and Ox Ford's. I know my stuff, though, so I'm not failing at least. I turn my concentration back to my sketch, horrified that in the absence of my brain it started to look like him. Talk about creepy. I flip to a new page and start over.
DING DONG DEAD DONG
Ah, there's the bell. Time to blow this Popsicle stand. I rise quickly and am out the door with the swish of a cloak... oh, scratch that. My cloak swished, but I didn't get out the door. My eyes narrow and meet his. I can't get my wrist away.
"Let go." I snarl. He smirks, cocky bastard.
"Whats your name?" I summon my katar, effectively forcing his hand away with the sharp blade. He looks at the small cut on his hand with eyes wide, and while he is distracted I make my escape. What is this sudden interest you have with me, Soul Eater? I furrow my eyebrows. Jogging down the large set of stairs at the entrance. I would usually fly home, but today I think it would be nice to walk off my frustrations. Soul Eater... you are a persistent little bugger, aren't you? How annoying. Nobody before has ever tried three times. Twice was the maximum. Well, I am an assassin, I'm sure avoiding him can't be that hard. Dissolve in the darkness and erase your breath. Easy peasy.
I unlock the front door to my apartment and walk in, closing the door behind me. I'm willing to bet, that if someone saw this place, they wouldn't believe it was mine. The first thing you notice is the walls. Every wall in the place is covered in art. Mine. From random doodles with pencil to huge colorful murals. It covers the counter tops and cabinets in the kitchen, and the fridge is decorated in sheets full of drawings. The couch is draped with multicolored blankets, and the carpet is crusty with dripped and dried paint. My room is the same. But my favorite room, is the empty one lying across the hall from mine. Its my special art room, where I keep all of my supplies- canvases, papers, paints, pencils, easels, everything an artist could ever need. I've sworn to myself, not a single living person will see the inside of that room. It would be like letting a stranger into my soul. Not gonna happen.
I enter the kitchen and dig through the pantry, looking for some easily constructed meal to please my growling stomach. I find some Ramen- perfect. I dump the hard noodles unceremoniously into a bowl, and add water. I leave the flavor packet out, I'm weird like that. I throw it in the microwave and head to my room. I set my jacket over the desk chair and set my scarf over it, before stripping off the gloves and throwing them on the bedside table. I carefully unwrap the bandages from my arms and legs, rolling them up and setting them on the table next to the gloves. I run my fingers up and down my arms, feeling the little lumps and ridges of scars. No, I don't cut myself, but my weapon blood is very weak, every time I summon a weapon, I get a new cut. It used to hurt, but I barely even feel it anymore. I unlace my boots and set them at the foot of my bed, before sliding in my socks back to the kitchen. My noodles are done. I set the bowl at the table and blow impatiently at it, not hungry enough to burn my tongue but too hungry to wait long. I sit and slip a forkful into my mouth, making obnoxious slurping noises just because I can. I hear a knock at the door. And who might that be? I yank the door open, scowling.
"What?" I snarl, prepared to slam the door on whoever dares interrupt my noodle slurping. Its him. Again. I slam the door in his face. Returning to my noodles. When I finish, he knocks again. I know its him because he is the only one who has ever knocked on that door. I give in and open the door again. "Do you need something?" I ask, severely pissed.
"Yes, actually. I need your name." I roll my eyes, this guy is really pushing my buttons.
"Nobody." I state, the same way I answered the girl before.
"That so? Ok then. See you around, Nobody." and he walks off. Damn him. I slam the door and lock it, before walking fake-calmly to my room. I change into a pair of sleeping pants ad a sports-bra, then brush my teeth and comb my hair. I collapse onto the bed, staring at my finely decorated ceiling. What the hell was that? The last thing I see before falling asleep is his smirking face. How cliché.
I'm starting a new story! The other one i have written is going to be ending soon, so i decided to post this idea to see how well it goes. I only own Nyx (Nobody), nothing else! Please review and tell me what you think!
~Fish