A/N: Hello, everyone. Rather than working on homework or my W.I.P fanfiction, I've gotten inspired for a little quicky here with Soul Eater! Please bear with me, I've only just made it to season 2, so I'm still a bit of a newbie when it comes to this particular anime! It's soooo good though. This is my take on Edgar Allen Poe's short story originally titled Hop-Frog and the Eight Chained Orangutans; if you aren't familiar with the plot, enjoy the ride, and if you are, I hope you enjoy my little twist on it! Rating it T for occasional language and violence. "Speaking," and 'thinking,' are respective.
Soul and the Eight Chained Witches
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater or Edgar Allen Poe
Through the single slit of a window shimmered the yellow ball in the sky brimming with early morning light. The rays, iridescent as they shone upon the dull, grey stone underneath, seemed too bright, almost surreal, as if they were more figments of the imagination then the dawning of a new day. The dazzling display of light shining down from the rocking, cackling sun was not enough to fool the figure curled up in a tight, protective ball in the corner of the prison cell. His throaty, irritated moan lumped inside his windpipe, parched without even a coating of saliva to alleviate his thirst. The light that poured into his cell couldn't have fooled him; it brought with it no warmth, so sense of ease. The stones below, around, and above him were still as lifeless, grey, and frigid as they had been the previous night, when the wind had blown in from the sliver of the window and frozen his bones.
"This is so uncool,"
One ruby eye lazily opened a crack, allowing just enough light inside to adjust his retinas to the sudden brightness. Running his tongue along his cracking lips Soul pushed himself into a sitting position, his fingers pressing into the flattened straw beneath him. His bedding, like that of an animal, was all that separated him from the cold ground he had been sleeping on every night since his capture some months ago. As he rubbed the back of his hand across his face he yawned and scanned the room with a cautious, hard gaze. Always he had to be on the lookout for one of the Queen's practical jokes; her insatiable appetite for humor was infamous. She would go to any means to get a good laugh out of herself and her Royal Court, a group of seven witches who served as her closest advisers. There had been many nights when he had not slept for fear of what would happen to him or his dearest companion, the female who had been taken away with him from their city in a distant land. Speaking of which…
"Maka!"
Soul jerked his head around in a moment of near panic, his heart jumping to the edge of his rib cage when he didn't see her at first. Soon, though, his eyes came upon her still sleeping form over on the other side of the room. He crawled towards her on his hands and knees, ignoring the dull pain from the floor digging into his skin, calling out her name again a little louder then he perhaps should have. With her hands curled under her head for a makeshift pillow, the girl had not woken from the light but continued snoozing, her chest rising and falling in the peaceful way only sleep can provide.
'Damn, we survived another night…'
His breath rose in swirling, pallid wisps from the chill. In her sleep, Maka began to shiver. He sullenly eyed the frayed rags she had been forced to wear from the day they had first arrived, the material so dirty and worn it had faded to match the color the prison around them. His wasn't in any better shape, but still, it pained him to watch his Meister fall into such a lowly state. Where they were from, she had demanded so much more respect and dignity then the likes of this. Due to whatever enchantments the powerful Queen had placed over the castle, it was impossible for him to change into his scythe form. He and Maka had tried too many times to count in vain efforts of escape, of fighting back. No matter how hard they tried, he couldn't change. They were punished every time.
"S…Soul…"
Maka began to stir, her face wrinkling as she rolled over on her back and blinked up at the ceiling with a blank, exhausted look. The circles under her eyes seemed darker every day; he wondered how much sleep she actually got a night, after a whole day of entertaining the Queen and her insane antics.
"I'm here, Maka,"
He assured her in the gentlest tone he could muster. It was difficult to explain why, but despite all the hate, anger, and darkness that surrounded them, there was always a soft spot inside his hollow chest for his companion. His feelings for the rest of the world had corroded into nothing but contempt and malice, but no matter how many times it was used against him, Soul couldn't break his wavelength with Maka.
"Morning,"
She greeted him with an empty shell of a smile. She sat up and stretched out her aching back; she had hoped that her body would adjust to the living arrangements of the castle but so far she was disappointed. Every night she failed to get comfortable enough to truly sleep, both in body and in mind. There was always the fear of what might happen to her if she dropped her guard for too long. She glanced at her Weapon, wondering how long he had been awake. Not long at all, she would assume, eyeing the bits of straw that were entangled in his snowy locks. She reached out with a shaky hand and brushed them away, mindful not to tug too hard on his hair.
"Oh, good, you're finally awake. Get up, get up, the Queen and her Ladies are waiting!"
Another servant had appeared in silence, hissing now as Maka's hand shot back to her side. Soul growled at the approach but Maka rose to her feet, her trembling lips the only betrayal to the lifeless expression she had forced upon her face. To show no emotion was the only way to survive here. Letting them see how much her and Soul meant to another, that was only asking for trouble. The dreading, tight feeling in his gut told him they were already in for a day of Hell.
~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~
"Dance my pathetic jester, and be merry! I want to hear the tapping of your filthy shoes as well as a chorus of laughter!"
The Queen roared from her golden throne, her cheeks red with delight as she fanned herself contently. Her elegance was the epitome of what royalty should be; her porcelain skin could have been carved of smooth alabaster, set in contrast with the falling ebony tresses of hair that fell down the middle of her back. To both her left and her right spanned the seven witches that never left her side, their shrieks of joy mingling with that of their master's as Soul and Maka performed in front of them. They twirled and stumbled about in a weary fashion, their movements heavy and awkward from having nothing to eat the day before. More than once they nearly collided with one another, their bodies within inches of clashing heads or smacking arms. Their heads were spinning faster than their waists, their faces too cadaverous to seem truly human.
"This isn't very amusing,"
The Queen pouted without content, her lips pursing as she swirled her goblet of wine absent mindedly. She perked up as suddenly as she had deflated as her twinkling eyes peered down into the contents of the cup.
"Soul, come here, would you?"
She demanded in a sugary voice. The two dancers stopped their movements, one too surprised to be grateful for the break and the other already dreading the sweet smile on the Queen's face. Her council of witches seemed to already know what was going to happen, their hands rising to cover their mouths as they swallowed back giggles.
"What the hell do you want?"
Soul hissed from where he stood, hesitating only a moment before he began to walk forward. He knew better then to mess around; if he didn't obey, the witches would make him pay by cutting open the scar on his chest again, or by taking it out on Maka instead. The latter possibility was all the drive he needed to close the distance between him and the smiling ruler, his bloody eyes narrowed with distrust. Maka bit her lower lip to stop the shaking as she waited with baited breath.
"Look at you, you're such a sight! All pale and thin, you give me a fright! I can fix this with just a little test, it'll be hilarious and fun for the rest! Oooh, isn't rhyming a blast?"
The Queen fanned herself again and roared at her open stupid joke, her ladies-in-waiting joining in for a moment. When they had all fallen silent again, she raised her goblet of rich, ruby wine and offered it to the male.
"You look absolutely worn out, but I know this will fix you right up!"
"Yeah right, you know damn well I can't drink that stuff!"
Soul barked darkly, wrinkling his nose up at the smell of the liquor. He wasn't good at holding spirits; the last time he had sipped alcohol he had passed out halfway through the second glass. He had gotten drunk and made a complete fool out of himself, which was, of course, the point of it all.
"You had better do as the Lady wishes, you dog! Or else!"
One of the witches shouted in a warning tone, six other scowls joining in. Soul growled back at them under his breath and jerked his head back towards the offering in front of him. If he didn't take it, there was no telling what would happen.
"There's a good boy,"
The Queen purred softly as Soul pressed his lips against the rim of the golden cup. She tilted it and watched with a lick of her own lips as he gulped down several mouthfuls before he stumbled backwards, gasping for breath. His cheeks were already rosy with intoxication, his eyes glazing over as he tripped over his own feet and fell back on his rear. Mumbling nonsense, Soul waved a hand around and got to his feet, hiccupping loudly. The Queen and her witches erupted in laughter, the shrill sounds pounding into Maka's head. She blinked back tears as Soul scratched himself and burped. Already they were demanding that he drink more wine.
"N-No…!"
Maka watched in horror as Soul approached the goblet again and drank some more, the sound of him choking meeting her ears as he tried to keep up with the amount being dumped down his throat. The witch nearest to him raised her fingers and called out a spell that caused mini lightning bolts to fall down from the ceiling, coming within inches of piercing Soul's body as he stumbled around.
"This is hilarious, my jester, keep drinking!"
The Queen demanded as she laughed, and laughed. Maka felt her hands curl into fists as she watched, feeling utterly helpless. How could she stand by and watch this happen to Soul?! She always did her best to please the Queen. She obeyed all requests, performed every embarrassing act she could possibly imagine, and suffered a great deal of pain, all at the expense of a few chuckles. But this, it was unbearable. Soul was meandering towards the goblet once more, unaware of the talk around him.
"Maybe we should put something else in it, give him a little more boost!"
"We could put a poison in there, see how long it takes him to foam at the mouth!"
"Or we could-"
"STOP!"
Without realizing what she was doing, Maka raced forward and grabbed onto Soul's sleeve, yanking him back. He crashed down again but stayed on the floor, his words slurred together in an inaudible lump of nonsense. She fell to her knees in front of the Queen and kissed the satin slippers of royal feet, feeling the tears burn hot behind her lids.
"P-Please, milady, don't do this! Soul can't drink like this, y-you'll kill him! I'll do whatever you want, I'll make you laugh instead, just spare him, please!"
Maka begged as she bowed down low, her nose touching the floor in the most humiliating form of worship.
"You little bitch, what do you think you're doing?!"
The witches roared at her, hissing and stomping their feet angrily. The Queen was too shocked at Maka's outburst to speak. She stared down at the servant at her feet with an open mouth, amazed at the audacity displayed. No one ever stood up to her like that. Ever. She needed to do something, though, all of her councilors were watching for her response.
"Silly girl, stand up,"
The Queen requested in a gentle tone. Maka froze for a moment, unable to remove her lips from the royal slippers. Had she heard correctly? The master didn't seem angry by her pleadings… She had been certain she would receive some sort of punishment for interrupting the Queen's humor. But, apparently that was not the case. Maka rose to her feet in disbelief, peering up at the Queen from under her eyelashes shyly. The Queen smiled at her for a moment before reaching over and slapping her across the face. The stinging sound resonated in the air as Maka stumbled back from the force of it, a line of blood dripping down her upper cheek from the nails that had scratched her flesh.
"Don't you ever do that again, you disgusting worm, do you understand me?"
The Queen laughed before taking the rest of the wine and splashing it in Maka's face. The chorus of laughter from the witches grew louder and louder as the tears she had fought so hard to hide began brewing again, spilling out over her ducts and leaving trails through the redness of the wine and the blood that marred her face.
"Although groveling at my feet was pretty entertaining! Let's enjoy this just a little longer; then we must discuss ideas to spice up the ball tomorrow night! I need the perfect prank to play, one that will leave its mark on history!"
The laughter increased a tenfold as Maka hung her head and sobbed. From his spot on the ground, Soul could clearly see every individual tear that fell from her eyes. The cacophony of her misery tore into his hearth like a million scythes, shredding every last bead of calm inside him. Something snapped as he began to join in the laugher, quietly at first, but then louder and louder until he was overshadowing all of the witches combined. Maka covered her face with her hands, too upset to look at what was happening to her beloved weapon.
"Good good, I enjoy laughter from everyone!"
The Queen smiled again as Soul got up on his feet, the effects from the wine apparently gone as he returned a toothy grin back at the Queen.
"Your majesty, I think I know the perfect prank you can pull. It'll scare those women out of their panties, and all you have to do is dress the part!"
Soul smirked as the Queen and her witches, intrigued now, fell silent.
"Maka and I will get everything ready. Imagine if you eight walked into that ballroom chained together in monkey costumes that looked so real everyone thought you were legit apes. Picture how many laughs that'll get; we can lock the doors so the guests think they're really under attack!"
"Ooooh, Soul, that's a splendid idea! I can already hear them screaming in fright and then laughing when they realize they were the baboons in the end, for believing something so ridiculous! I love the idea, what about you ladies?"
The Queen clapped her hands together in excitement as her witches cheered in consent. While they carried on about how much they were looking forward to the ball, Soul silently gazed at Maka, who was wiping away the tears that kept on flowing. She hesitantly met his look, confusion mingling in with the hurt. She would have to trust that Soul had a plan, but she didn't like the dark, violently burning hate that was flooding his eyes…
~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~
The ballroom was beautiful enough to sweep the breath away from the guests who danced away under sparking candles and merry musical notes. Girls in flowing dresses twirled in tight circles around men dressed in sharply pressed suites of only the richest threads, the soft murmur of polite chatter creating an undertone of the perfect party. It seemed everyone was having the time of their lives, dancing away as the smiling moon shined from outside the stain glassed windows. Joyous was the occasion, the food, the people- it couldn't have been a more perfect night if Lord Death himself had planned it.
"Good heavens, what's that?!"
Someone screamed as a set of doors flew open. Without warning, eight black apes waltzed onto the dance floor, each of them connected to the other in bondage by means of a coiled chain around the waist. They raised their arms and lumbered in like zombies, growling and making strange monkey noises. The guests began to scream as the music came to a haulting stop, the air of a light, happy party going up like smoke. They pushed and shoved each other out of the way in an attempt at a mad dash towards the exits, but all the doors had been locked earlier that evening. It was utter chaos, the rushing and shoving and screaming.
Taking advantage of the panic, Soul began to slink along the outer edge of the room, an eerily placid look etched in his features. He snuck up behind the 'monkeys' and slinked a separate chain around them, one that reached far, far up above their heads. The Queen and the witches were far too busy scaring their guests to notice the presence of a servant. All of a sudden the eight of them were yanked into the air, towards the castle ceiling. With the masks that they were wearing, and the surprise of the attack, the Queen and her witches could neither scream for help nor use magic to escape.
When that was done, Soul pushed his way to the center of the room and began to dance and juggle a few hacky sacks he had stashed away up his sleeve. Around him, the crowd began to quiet, staring up at the apes in the air and the fool performing below.
"Is… is this all just a big joke?"
Someone hesitated to ask, sniffling slightly from the fear that had previously plagued them.
"That's right! This is all just fun, fun fun fun!"
Soul shouted back with a dark smile, attracting more guests to come watch him perform. Soon, they were laughing, and clapping and cheering, the terror from before already forgotten. It was just like their Queen to try and trick them in such a manner; oh how she loved a good practical joke!
"But if this is a joke that means those people up there aren't really monkeys, right?"
"Yeah, I forgot about that! Who are they, anyway?"
"People, people, be cool! In fact, I think I know exactly who the culprits are!"
Soul grabbed a candle off the nearest table and ran straight for the wall. Using the last of his strength, he ran straight up the wall, going as far up as he was able before his foot began to slip. Pushing off from the wall, he propelled himself at the eight squirming figures up in the air. Little did everyone know, those monkey suits had been specially crafted. The threads had been soaked in tar and flax before Maka had helped him sew the costumes together. Soul took aim and threw his candle at them all before falling towards the ground, landing on his feet with only a dull thump. No sooner had his feet graced the ground then the flickering candle flame landed directly on the Queen and her councilors. The eight of them were immediately engulfed in a hot ball of fire, their screams of torched agony echoing across the room. Being so high in the air, none of the guests below could have lifted a finger to stop the burning, even if they had wanted to.
"W-Wow, the Queen has really gone all out on this prank!"
"Yeah, this is so life-like!"
"Incredible!"
The guests began to applaud as the fire burned hotter and hotter, unaware of how painfully slowly the occupants of the ape costumes were dying. The moon, a bright, yellow blob shining from behind all the guests, continued to smile as a rushing of fresh, steaming blood dripped over its overflowing mouth. It was calm outside the castle. Quiet, peaceful even. The animals had settled down for the night, the only sounds coming from the hushing of the wind through the treetops. Hand-in-hand, Maka and Soul began to run as fast as their thin legs allowed them, their feelings of freedom expelling from their beings in the form of a sick, sinister laugh that would have made the Queen proud.
A/N: Not so sure I captured the true horror of it as well as I had hoped, but none-the-less, I hope you readers enjoyed. No one does it like Poe, I suppose, haha!