Perfection

Summary – In Claymore, there aren't many regular yoma who disguise themselves as females. This is a brief story about the one yoma who did, up until her death by Clare's hands.

Spoilers – There are none, this story takes place in the first volume.

Disclaimer – I don't own Claymore. But that's just as well considering what I would write wouldn't be called fanfiction anymore, would it? My ideas are to messed up to be in the real story.

Written By – Night Foliage


Gorgeous.

Running her slender hands over her waist, she couldn't help but appreciate the amazing figure she obtained. She had a voluptuous figure, with dark flowing hair, and emerald green eyes. The flowing white dress she was wearing looked splendid on her. It wouldn't be surprising if the goddesses were jealous of her beauty. It was vain of her to think so, but gazing at the reflection in the mirror stopped those train of thoughts. Besides they were only her thoughts.

"Oh." She stopped admiring her body to check on the dress she was wearing.

"Is that a mark?" Carefully running a finger over the spot in question, she realized yes, it was a mark. A small red mark. More like a stain than an accidental smudge.

She weighed her options. "I went through a lot of trouble to find a clean dress. Will I have to search again?" It wasn't an exaggeration. It had taken her over an hour to find a clean dress to her liking. Was it really worth the trouble?

Maybe. Maybe not. But the beauty reflected in the mirror seemed to wane. The image wasn't perfect anymore. The small blemish had ruined it.

Sighing, she turned away from the mirror. With a strength that betrayed her fragile looks, she ripped off the part of the dress that had been marred. If the dress wasn't perfect, then there would be no use in wearing it. Finding a new dress would be hard, but not impossible. Besides, if she didn't find a dress to her liking in this house, she would just move to the next. And if that house didn't have an outfit, she would go to the next one, and the next one, until she found the perfect dress.

As she exited the room the remains of the dress stained a deep red, soaking in blood from the corpse underneath.

--

"Belinda, is there a special occasion that I should know about?" The woman turned to face the young man talking to her.

Belinda smiled. "No, nothing in particular, Michael dear. I felt like dressing up today, that's all." Luckily for the inhabitants of the other houses, she had found an outfit to her liking in another one of the closets. It consisted of a long blue skirt and form-fitting shirt with a matching blue flower pattern. The outfit was a bit dressier than what Belinda normally wore. No doubt that was what provoked Michael's question.

He continued to grin, running his eyes over her amazing body. He found nothing wrong with this statement. Belinda often did things out of the ordinary to surprise him. It was one of the many reasons he loved her so.

"You're so beautiful…" He murmured, walking towards the figure of his wife. With practiced ease, Michael scooped her into his arms to the bedroom. She was too beautiful to resist.

--

The next morning, the villagers found Michael's mangled body in the streets.

"No…." A feminine figure in all black knelt next to the victim, sobbing. "Why? Why did it have to be you…" Small tears ran down her face. "Michael…."

Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. It was one of the more elderly men in the own. "Belinda, I know that you must be sad, but please, this is no place for a woman to be." He said soothingly, helping her to her feet. "Why don't you go with my wife for some tea?"

She nodded, soundlessly, walking to an old woman, away from the corpse and its audience.

When Belinda left, the men started to crowd around the victim. Many had to look away. The meat was already rotting, and flies and larvae had started to pick away at the exposed flesh. And a lot of it was exposed due to the numerous bite and claw marks on the body. The person's identity would have stayed a mystery at first glance if it weren't for the unique wedding band on his left hand. Only one man had an emerald set into his ring, and that had been Michael.

Now it just pained the others to know the corpse's identity.

"This is the sixth victim, eh? The yoma has started to pick off young ones I see." A man form the sideline commented. Previously, all the victims had been the elderly.

"Ssh!" Another shushed the whispering crowd. "Belinda will hear you." Many of the people quickly glanced over to the now-widowed beauty.

"I feel bad. The two hadn't married very long…." The hushed whispers continued, even if it was impossible for Belinda to hear their conversation.

She didn't care about their prattle. It was useless anyway; they should have been more concerned about the yoma that was killing people. But that's how humans are, aren't they? Most of them are horrendously ugly and naïve.

One of the "horrendously ugly" approached her. It was one of the elders, one whom most people referred to as Nana. Wizened, old hands covered her dainty ones. The wrinkles seemed to stretch across Nana's face when she smiled at her.

Disgusting. Belinda thought, but mirrored the old woman's smile with one of her own.

"It will be okay," Nana said soothingly. "People are finally acknowledging the yoma problem and are have sent for a Claymore."

Belinda gasped, "a Claymore?" The old woman nodded. Belinda's face switched from sadness to confusion, the normal reaction for any townsperson who had never needed the services of a Claymore and had never encountered one. Their services were expensive, and the fact that they were infused with yoma flesh traveled far and wide. Many said that they were yoma that have somehow been enslaved to humans.

But Belinda knew better. First and foremost, Claymores were hunters. Claymore's tended to have a complex that called for the blood and death to all yoma. She couldn't blame them. Her brethren yoma killed anyone that struck their fancy.

Belinda herself had already preyed on seven in this town, alone. There were also the several hundreds in the other villages and towns that she had stayed in. And although she rarely interacted with other yoma Belinda knew that since the Claymore's creation, the lifespan of a yoma had gotten steadily shorter. The only reason she was alive today was thanks to her intellect. Some would call it cowardice, but whenever she had gotten wind of a Claymore coming to her residence, she had always fled. And sometimes Belinda had fled despite the lack of news.

Was it paranoia? Maybe.

Could it be women's intuition? That's how Belinda believed her instinct worked. All Claymores are female and it took a woman to understand one.

At least, Belinda liked to believe that she was female.

She was so unlike her dumber, less intelligent, drooling male counterparts. They were gluttons, the lot of them. It insulted Belinda, knowing that she was grouped with the stupid animals. It was no wonder why the yoma were being killed off so easily.

On the more positive side, it meant that fewer Claymores were needed. Belinda could stay in the same place for months until a Claymore learned about the town. Traveling didn't bother her as much as changing appearances did. Belinda enjoyed the feminine, dainty, womanly images of her victims. But a frail woman traveling tens or hundreds of miles to another city was very suspicious compared to a young male looking for work.

Every time she switched to a male body, it was horrible. Their hair was short, they were too tall, the muscles too bulky, and everything was out of proportion. Belinda could barely stand it. The only reason she continued being a male was because she valued her life.

In each city she arrived in, Belinda always looked for a new image right away. It took her quite a bit of time to decide. She was very concerned with aesthetics, being more partial to the petit and long-haired girls with exotic eyes. Sometimes it was hard to choose, such had it been in this current town. In these cases, she took the image of every girl, saving the prettiest for last. Belinda killed two birds with one stone. She not only satisfied her instincts to kill, but also her desire to be beautiful.

But now wasn't the time to be pretty. Right now she needed to find a young man before the Claymore came.

--

"When will the Claymore come? There have been so many victims now."

The people residing in town gathered, staring at the new corpse on the ground. It was an unholy sight to behold. People were unable to identity the mangled body. The jaw had been ripped off, lying several feet away from its owner. The cheeks had been scraped clean of flesh, and the eyes were gouged out leaving dark sockets. Even if the flesh were restored, it wouldn't have helped, for the skull's shape was distorted, the bones crushed and rearranged.

Apparently whoever had eaten this person, had been craving guts. A large cross had been cut into its midsection. The flaps of tissue pulled back to show the inside of more pink flesh. The organs were all gone, leaving only the ribcage and pelvic bone.

But it wasn't as if the body was empty. Inside the ribcage, huge amounts of small, tiny, white grubs squirmed, enjoying their new home as their parents buzzed above them. The odor wasn't too terrible. The rest of the corpse was being quickly eaten away by its new residents. It wouldn't be too long before they finished off the body.

The sight of this body was eternally burned into their retinas. Luckily, or unluckily, something else was able to pull their attention from the corpse. The Claymore had arrived, they someone else to worry about.

--

"This is your next assignment. Another town has called for an extermination"

Sherry was exhausted. Not physically, her infusion of yoma and human flesh had left her stronger than ever. But mentally, she was exhausted.

The wind blew up a sudden gust, and her long, straight, hair whipped into her eyes. She scrunched up her face in annoyance and ran a hand through the length of her hair to smooth it. Sherry had to continually push the hair out of her eyes, too tired to put it up. Plus having her hair down was one of the features that had not been forcibly altered by the Organization. Sherry didn't want another change.

An image of the man in black flashed in her mind. "Your image doesn't matter if you're dead. That long hair of yours is in the way." Along with a cynical tone, the image of the man's face was contorted into a sneer. Even in her mind, he looked down at Sherry.

That was what was tiring her. The constant abuse that Sherry had been suffering had been wearing her mind down. She hated the fighting, killing, and the constant cold stares. Her life was a constant torrent of pain, and it would only so long until Sherry couldn't stand it anymore.

Maybe she was at her limit already.

"Just do your job."

Sherry could figure out later what was troubling her. For now she would have to save another ungrateful town from the beings that had pushed her into this fate as a Claymore.

--

"…and this is the payment for the extermination." Sherry came out of her thoughts, as the old man finished his speech on how grateful he was to have a Claymore come to the town. Liar. She bitterly thought.

Instead, what came out of her mouth was, "After the job is done, a man dressed in black will be sent to collect the payment. Please give it to him then."

He opened his mouth to argue or say something back, but seemed to think better about it and nodded. Sherry warily walked out the door, ready to fulfill her duty.

The assignment proceeded as usual; the people in town whispered behind her back acting as if she had encroached on their territory, even though they were the ones who had requested for her service. There were the corpses that were also normal.

First, she checked the places where the smell of the yoma was the strongest. By scent alone, Sherry had found all of the places the victims had been eaten, and the homes in which it had stayed in.

However, she wasted her time looking for the yoma. He had come to her in the open street in the form of a young, burly, man.

"Well, you don't look that tough." He said. Straightening his back, the yoma looked down at her arrogantly. "Do you really think you can kill a yoma?"

Sherry rolled her eyes. Of course, the yoma decides to take the body of a man who uses a lot of macho clichés. How original. Smirking, she unsheathed her claymore. At this point, most of the bystanders had started to notice the commotion. They rushed to the sides of the streets not wanting to be caught in the cross-fire.

They hadn't needed to bother. The yoma had barely enough time to transform into his true form before Sherry had lopped of his head.

The town stared at her in awe and horror.

Ignoring them, she sheathed her claymore and left the town.

Job complete.

--

"That was fast."

Turning, Sherry looked at Rubel and shrugged. She walked on. That was probably all he had to say to her and would now head over to the town to collect the extermination fee.

"You have a new job." She stopped. Another job already? "It's in a town not to far away from here. Less than a day's walk, actually. This one is possibly a voracious eater, it's been escaping our notice for quite a while."

Sighing, Sherry knew she couldn't escape. "Where do I go?"

--

"Something wrong, Jake?"

Jake flinched, startled out of his thoughts. He looked to the person addressing him. "Yeah. I'm fine."

The other man nodded, accepting Jake's answer. Jake returned to his work on the field, gathering his thoughts once more. The back of his mind buzzed with urgency, and his instincts screamed for him to run. Run? Run from what? He couldn't help but wonder. He had only stayed for a couple of days and his intuition was already telling him to flee from this place. They couldn't have found me this fast.

Jake always listened to his intuition, but the urge to change bodies was stronger. In the city were a lot of beautiful girls all awaiting to be taken over by him. He gritted his teeth. I hate being in this body.

But it wouldn't be too long now before she switched bodies. Jake, formerly Belinda had finally found the perfect vessel. There was no way she would leave until she put herself in a female body. The stress from being in another gender really wore her down. She would need to transfer soon. Then she would utilize the time it took for the Claymore to travel the city. There was a good chance that she couldn't run away anymore, and would need a plan to kill the Claymore.

--

It's here. Jake, now Kari, felt the Claymore's presence inside the city limits. It wouldn't be very long before the Claymore realized that her target was not in the city but taking a leisurely walk through the surrounding forest. The sun was bright, the weather warm, and the sky a perfect blue with barely a cloud in the sky. Kari let herself relax for the first time in awhile.

"It's a beautiful day." Kari said aloud.

"I'm so glad you suggested a picnic Kari! It's been a long time since we've hung out." Amelia replied beside her.

Kari grinned. She was ready for the Claymore anytime.

--

"What's a Claymore doing here?"

"Don't look at her!"

"Shh! You guys are being too loud, she'll hear you."

Too late. Sherry thought, trying to ignore the silence from her presence. But she understood their surprise. Normally Claymore's only came to a city to exterminate yoma. If not for this reason, than for some other ulterior motive the people wouldn't need to know about.

Sherry wanted to finish the job quickly. She quickly searched for the yoma's location and found it in a forest. Perfect. That way I don't have to attract huge amounts of attention.

She turned to the direction of the woods, following the beaten path.

It wasn't long before she found herself incredibly near the yoma. Most likely she would find herself face to face to it soon. Sherry found the distance between the them decreasing, but for some reason, the yoma had not moved.

Had it decided that it was strong enough to take her out? Or maybe it thought it could hide until she went away. In either case, it was strange.

Was it playing with her?

Sherry shook her head. This is a regular yoma. She thought, trying to calm the troubles she didn't realize she had. This is not a voracious hunter. It's the same as always. The good weather and the personal reassurances helped her relax.

Until her brief moment of bliss was interrupted by girlish laughter.

In front of her were two young girls, enjoying a beautiful day in the forest. That was what anyone but a Claymore would've thought. When Sherry laid her eyes on the girls she figured out why the yoma had not moved.

It had been waiting for her.

Suddenly, one of the girl pulled the other to her feet, pushing her in front. It's using the girl as a shield! Sherry's mind provided uselessly, drawing her claymore out.

"Why is Claymore here?" The yoma asked innocently, still acting as an innocent maiden.

"Why are you here?" The other girl asked oblivious to the current danger she was in.

Sherry didn't answer.

"You don't need to draw your claymore. No one wants to pick a fight here, someone may get hurt." The yoma continued, gently placing a hand on the hostage's shoulder. "Please don't let her get any nearer Amelia."

Amelia patted the hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry Kari."

Sherry used that instance to attack. Using her superior speed she appeared at the yoma's side slashing at its neck. When she finished the action, she found herself staring at Amelia decapitated corpse.

"Oh no…" She whispered. Then a wave of pain hit her as a hand went through her stomach and her vision faded away into the darkness.

--

Sherry stared at into the lake's reflection admiring herself. She enjoyed this new body. It was very different from the human one's she had taken over before. A Claymore's body was truly exquisite.

Stunning.

She couldn't help but think that to herself. Her hair was a golden yellow and her skin was nearly flawless. She ran a hand down her new vessel; her figure slim with soft muscles This Claymore had a very elegant gait around her.

But what she loved most, even more than the inhuman beauty, was the eyes. Before, when she had to walk around in her yoma form, the only thing she enjoyed was her golden eyes. They stood out, and now she had silver ones that were just as special.

There was also the added bonus of the "awareness" that she possessed. The fact that she could hide her yoma presence made surviving easier. Even now, she could feel another Claymore coming the city…

Sherry lifted her head up in sudden urgency. Another Claymore? The signal was weak, but still there. It's getting closer. She pushed her power down to zero and stopped any trace of her yoma essence from escaping. It could have been a coincidence that there was another coming, but her intuition told her otherwise.

It can't be helped. Sherry took a deep breath and started to run through the trees, determined to scout out the new Claymore. If the hostage plan had worked once, it could work again.

--

"Huff. Huff. Huff." In the distance Sherry could pick up the faint pants of a traveler in the desert. Not to far away from the town the figure collapsed in the sandy desert. It was unmoving and could obviously not able to travel anymore. Sherry wondered whether or not she should eat it or not, but stopped the thought when she saw another figure approach it. It was the Claymore.

Because she had her aura dropped to the lowest she could muster, Sherry couldn't track the whereabouts of the other Claymore. Shit. I'm still not use to this body. I'll have to escape for now. Sherry thought, until she saw the Claymore lifted the still figure off the ground with unusual tenderness.

She smiled deviously and headed back to the city.

--

"Huh? Where am I?" The young boy's voice was cracked and filled with confusion. He was obviously still in need of rest, Sherry realized. She had hidden herself away in the back of the houses, under the open window of the boy who had been rescued by the other Claymore.

A door opened and another voice spoke. "Oh you're awake." It was most likely the innkeeper. "You were almost dead. You were lucky to be rescued."

"Huh? Wha-?" The boy stumbled for words but the older man interrupted him.

"Eat." The innkeeper said firmly. "You haven't eaten in days, have you? It's a miracle you made it across the wasteland with so few provisions." Tok. There was the sound of something set down on a table. Most likely food.

The boy stumbled stupidly over his words. "Um….." A pause. "Uh…." Another pause. Finally, "where am I?"

"Eh?" The innkeeper wasn't expecting such a dumb question either. "Oh… The inn. The inn at Egon Village. You've been sleeping since yesterday."

There was a faint growl from window.

The innkeeper continued, "You must be hungry. Go on, dig in."

"Oh…." The boy sounded embarrassed. "But I don't have any money. I can't even pay you for this room." Sherry felt annoyed at how the conversation was going.

"Don't worry about money. Your food and lodging has already been paid for."

"What?"

"By a silver-eyed witch."

"Huh?"

"D-Did you say 'a silver-eyed witch?' What was her name?"

"Don't know. She didn't say, and I didn't ask." At this point, Sherry started to pay more attention to the conversation. "Still, what a sight. A silver-eyed witch walked into the village carrying a half-dead boy. She brought you here to the inn, put you in bed, and paid for your food and lodging."

"So… Where is she now?"

"Don't know. But we didn't call her to this village. She probably headed off to her next job."

The sound of shuffling came from the room.

"Sorry!" The boy yelled. "I gotta get going! Thanks for everything!"

"Hey wait! Aren't you going to eat?"

Chomp, chomp, chomp. Chomp.

"Hey, hey! Slow down, or you'll choke."

"Thanks for the food! Goodbye!"

"Uh… sure. Take care."

A door slammed and Sherry moved away from the inn and headed towards the woods. Any moment now, a man would tell the boy that a Claymore had been looking for him and had gone into the forest.

--

"Clare!" The boy looked at Sherry with happiness until he realized that she was not the one he was seeking. What is the relationship between the two? Sherry thought. Is he really traveling alone, looking for a Claymore?

"Are you by yourself?" She asked. It was possible that he was actually looking for someone else and that person might have been around.

"Eh? Uh… yes." He paused. "Are… Are you the one that saved me?"

"Hmm?" Might as well go along with it. "Oh that. No need to thank me."

His face screwed up in confusion. "But why did you…? You don't even know me. And you paid for my food and lodging."

"I just wanted to help out." Sherry said. The actual Sherry probably wouldn't have, but he didn't know that. "We Claymore's are kind at heart."

"Huh?"

Sherry felt an alarm go off in her mind. The other Claymore was close; she would have to get closer to the boy. Slowly walking towards him, she continued, "What's more…" She placed a hand on his cheek and leaned closer. "I took a liking to you. I wanted to make you mine."

Sherry felt herself being abruptly shoved away.

"You're not a Claymore!" The boy yelled, backing away form her. "Claymore's never, ever call themselves by that name!"

She was surprised. The original mind in the body she was in always called herself a Claymore. It was just bad luck. But even without deceiving the boy, she already had the upper hand.

"Oh? Is that so?" She let her disguise drop to bring out her yoma power. "I didn't know. I'll have to remember that."

The boy stumbled back, but she easily maneuvered behind him. Holding him by his hair, she placed her claws next to his jugular. "You're pretty smart." Sherry commented. "But you followed me here just as I planned."

"You can come out now! I know you've been following me! I'm your next job, aren't I?" She said loudly to the surrounding trees.

"Huh?" The boy tried to squirm out of her grasp. "C-Clare."

"You don't give up, do you? No matter how far I run or where I hide, you stick to me like a shadow. I'm sick of it." Sherry finally had the upper hand. She was going to kill this Claymore once and for all.

The Claymore took a step forward.

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't make another move!" Does she not realize that I'm holding this guy hostage? "I know how fast Claymores are. Take one more step, and I'll rip his throat. One false move and I'll do it."

The Claymore stood, unmoving. "First, drop your sword. And no tricks." Sherry demanded.

Grabbing onto the sword the Claymore said softly, "What makes you think a hostage will stop me?"

The boy flinched, but Sherry kept calm. "I never thought it would… At least not until yesterday." The Claymore's expression changed. "But when I saw you carry him into town with such care, I changed my mind. That's when I knew he would be useful."

"Eh?" The boy was dumbfounded.

"You may be part monster and a ruthless killer, but you used to be human. Even if you can keep your emotions in check, a silver-eyed witch can't forget memories of her past life. For instance… when you were human… you might have a had a little brother. Maybe this boy reminds you of him."

The Claymore didn't respond verbally, but she had let her eyes turn gold.

"Well?" Sherry asked triumphantly. "Am I right? Go ahead! I you can kill me along with the boy, then do it!" She laughed at her victory. There's no way she will attack now. I can escape.

The Claymore threw her sword away. "How's that?" She asked.

It surprised Sherry how complacent and virtuous this Claymore was. The one she was currently inhabiting had attacked, despite the fact that she had held someone hostage.

Sherry cackled. It was in these times that she loved being a yoma.

"You fool! You humans really are fools!" She relaxed. "No… You're only half-human. You Claymore's are half of nothing!" Sherry sprung into action, using her newfound speed to send her hand though the Claymore's gut.

"Clare! Look out!" The boy cried helplessly, not that a warning would have helped her.

"Ha, ha! I got you. I sliced right through a Claymore!" The euphoric feeling of blood coating her arm made Sherry believe that no one could kill her right now. There was no need to worry about surviving anymore. "Hurts, doesn't it?" She taunted, enjoying the carnage. "even if you are a Claymore, when your guts are pierced…" Sherry paused, feeling the Claymore grab the arm gutting her. "Huh?"

The she felt them freefalling, crashing onto the slope of a hill, her arm still embedded in the Claymore's stomach.

"Don't make me laugh! Do you think a fall like that could hurt a yoma?" She's probably just desperate to do some damage before she dies. Sherry smirked at the thought.

"Eh?" That is until she saw the Claymore reach for something behind her. Suddenly, the feeling of warm blood coating her arm disappeared. Sherry realized too late that what the Claymore was reaching for, was the sword she had thrown away earlier.

This was a trap! Despite the pain, Sherry tried to wriggle away from the Claymore. I don't want to die! I've survived for so long… Images of her previous hosts flashed in her mind. She had preyed upon so many in the past, most of them gorgeous females. And here she was in the most perfect body she had ever acquired, about to die. Staring up at the Claymore above her, Sherry took in the sight of her killer.

Beautiful.

Something pressed against her skull and all thoughts vanished.


Wow. It's been a long time since I've posted anything. About what? Six months since I've posted anything? I'll have to start getting my writing spirit back or something. Plus I need to go update Watching the Sky in my original account. If you don't remember the notice I put on top, this fic was written by Night Foliage ONLY. Kiseki Gurl helped me edit, but I wrote this on my own, like she did with her other fic.

Hopefully, I post again soon.