Inside a large, circular room, with a tiled black and white floor and walls lined with all sorts of dolls, chuckling to themselves and anyone else who would listen, a single figure sat at a table. Her chair was the only one present, although the table could have easily sat four people. To look at her was to be blinded by a startling whiteness, from her pale hair to her long, lavish dress. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and her lavender gaze was angled downwards in a sad expression. She didn't move, and a single tear slipped down her cheek.
He didn't know where he was. He could barely move. He was so tired...why wasn't he sleeping anymore? Through his blurred eyes, he could make out a figure, but all he could see, was the color white. He placed a paw on top of his eyes, trying to block it out, to go back to sleep. An image passed through his mind, and he was wide awake in a moment. If he was awake, and if the figure was who he guessed it was, then...
What had happened to her?
His scythe cut through them with ease, their screams fading away into the night as the crumbled into nothingness. He grinned slightly. This power, this feeling, once so foreign to him, now coursed through his body like fire. He glanced disdainfully at the blood staining his shirt as he felt the power slowly drain out of him, his eyes returning to their normal green hue. The scythe shattered in a burst of light, and once more he felt like the average teenager he was before everything had come crashing down. Before she had been put in danger. He started off down the road back home, wanting to return home before sunrise. In all honesty, he disliked killing, but he had sworn. He promised to protect her until his last breath, and if this helped, then he would throw away any private thoughts. Everything he ever did was for her.
A jolt of electricity shot through him, making him freeze in place. He knew this feeling. Another one of...them had been born. It had been roughly forty years since the last one, and he supposed it was about time. Still, a wave of apprehension washed over him as he realized that he couldn't ignore it. Look what had occurred last time, when he had turned a blind eye to events, even when his master had ordered him not too, in her dying breaths. It was his duty to assist whoever was locked in that prison, chained by fate. He knew this, and yet he hesitated. Fear and uncertainty, emotions usually so far away, had come back to haunt him.
What if he failed again?
What if he couldn't save her?
Rage.
Pure, unstoppable fury coursed through her as she lunged at the white-haired girl, pinning her down and holding a knife up to her throat. She was supposed to have died. She wished she was dead. Yet this girl, this person, had the gall to awaken her. Did she think she was some sort of hero? Did she think that she wanted saving? No-she just wanted to disappear, to fade away, into the darkness of this place she loathed.
Then it wouldn't hurt so much.
She licked the blood calmly off of her hands as the monsters exploded behind her in a shower of red. Absolute ecstasy shone in her craze-filled eyes and she let out a long, raucous, insane laugh, nearly doubling over as she fought to gather herself. She brushed her fingers through her dark brown hair, the red from her hands seeping into her locks. Even as she giggled, her smile never failing, tears welled up in her eyes, although she shook her head roughly to dispel them before stalking off once more into the gloom.