Finally, after much urging, I've decided to share this story with more than just the one rabid Repo! fan who is my friend (Love ya, Pixie). Sadly, I do not own Repo! or any of its related characters, I just own the one OC, or maybe she owns me...
I'll try to update often, most of the fic has been written already and just needs some tightening up before publishing. Please read and review, I'm a big fan of constructive criticism and of course, praise!
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"Why did I ever want to go outside… the world is crazy." Shilo had walked out of the Opera with her head held high, marching into the bright lights of the paparazzi's cameras, looking like a young woman who could take over the world. Now she was flinching at shadows, trying not to shriek every time she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
All she had wanted was to go home… no, that wasn't true. All she had wanted was her father back, but she would settle for going home, crawling into bed and not coming out from under the covers for a week, or forever. But her home had been covered in crime scene tape and crawling with Gencops, she couldn't go back, not yet and maybe not ever.
"I don't want GeneCo!" Shilo had wanted to scream at them, but she knew better than to alert them to her presence. The Largo family was insane, she had seen that firsthand; they would never believe that she wouldn't want the power and the privilege that owning GeneCo would bring her.
Unable to go home, Shilo had been wandering the streets for what must have been hours but felt like days, heart pounding wildly at every sound, eyes darting nervously back and forth. No one bothered her and she didn't realize that it was because she was covered in her father's blood and mumbling to herself. If she had been asked where she was going she would have said she didn't know, but the fourth time she had walked past a graveyard and found herself peering into the depths she realized that she was looking for someone. For him.
"He's a drug dealer, he lurks in alleys and he smells horrible. But he made sure I got home safely before. He's no knight on a white horse but he still might help me…" Help her what? Help her live in this terribly frightening world, this place devoid of safety and family?
Shilo kept walking, afraid to stop, not knowing if it would be safe to stop. The night's events had utterly exhausted her, all she wanted to do was sleep, forget, but still her feet kept moving, one in front of the other, over the cracked pavement. After a while she realized that she was walking through an unfamiliar graveyard, ears straining, hoping to hear his voice maybe, his careless whistle, or even the smack of a Zydrate gun against a corpse's flesh. Instead she heard something entirely different.
Someone was singing in the graveyard, a trembling soprano voice filled with tears, faltering every so often on the higher notes, stumbling over the words. Shilo recognized the song instantly for all of the flaws in its singing. It was about an angel who lived in a shining Heaven, happy and content until the day the Devil burned Heaven down around her, broke her wings and threw her down to the cold and desolate Earth, robbed of family and home. It was a song that never failed to make Shilo cry whenever Blind Mag sang it, but she didn't cry as she walked a little faster, determined to find the owner of that voice.
The first rays of the morning sun were starting to fight through the layer of smog that enveloped the city, making the singer sitting on the gravestone clearly visible to Shilo's tired eyes. A woman of course, face turned toward the rising sun as she sang with her eyes closed. As Shilo watched, a tear trickled down the woman's cheek, running along an old scar that wasn't quite as white as the flesh surrounding it. She was wearing black, as if she had been trying to blend in with the night, or as if she were in mourning. The clothes were old and worn, the leather duster that half covered a button down shirt and jeans fit oddly across the shoulders and back and Shilo wondered if the woman was hiding some sort of deformity.
Shilo stopped several feet away from the young woman, wondering if she should say something or if she should just turn away and keep walking until she found the person she was really looking for.
'Careful Shi, just because she's sad doesn't mean she's isn't dangerous.' Her father's voice whispered a warning inside her head and Shilo ignored it, just as she tried to ignore the pain that came with thinking about her father. She was so tired and it was equal parts instinct and hope made her believe that the woman might be okay to talk to, might know of a place where she could rest for a little while.
"That's Blind Mag's song, isn't it?" Shilo asked when the woman had finished singing, her voice breaking the sudden silence like the chirping of a baby bird. She wasn't sure what reaction she had been expecting, surprise certainly, but not for the woman to reach for a scalpel at her belt even before she opened her eyes to see who was addressing her, not for lips pulled back into a snarl for half a moment before turning upwards into a bitter smile.
"I was wondering how long it would take for it to happen." The woman laughed, a sharp, ugly sound that ended quickly as she put the scalpel away. "I should have known it would be Mag's death that sent me over the edge… well, more over the edge I guess I should say." The woman ran a hand through her short and spiky red hair, a gesture of agitation. "It would be you that came to me, covered in her blood. I tried to rescue her from him, Marni, you know I tried, until she pleaded with me to stop."
Shilo's exhausted brain tried to make sense of what the woman was saying. 'Mom? She thinks I'm Mom?' Had many people had told her she looked like her mother? Rotti, Mag, her father…
"I'm not Mom!!" Shilo screamed, fury boiling through her, sudden and hot. "I'm not Mom!! I can go outside! I don't have a blood disease! It was Dad making me sick!" It felt like something inside her was being torn apart as she fell to her knees, sobbing. "I'm not dead! I'm alive! I'm ALIVE!"
"Blood pressure warning, medicate immediately." The cuff around Shilo's wrist imparted its message for the last time as Shilo ripped it off and hurled it away, listening for the satisfying crunching sound as it shattered against a gravestone. Shilo was *so* tired, and she didn't fight it when she felt her eyes slip closed. 'Sleep', Shilo thought as she slumped into the cool grass of the graveyard. 'Sleep will make everything better.'
