Simple days walk hand in hand with simple pleasures. For the woman with the midnight blue hair, simplicity was always welcome. Of course she loved a good challenge, and opportunities to test herself, but a lazy day in the waning days of springtime was loved just as well. Her love was a different kind of love, despite how it appeared. On the surface, she, and whatever feelings she expressed, seemed no different from the norm. But her feelings, which felt real to her, and were sincerely expressed, were artificial. She too, in a way, was artificial, as she was able to inhabit the living world, even though she did not have a heart. She looked human, she was as beautiful as any other human, but she could not feel, could not live, as a human being could. She existed without truly existing. Nobody, they called her.
Cloaked in heavy, black robes, which failed to complement her figure, she sat on the edge of the town fountain, with her feet dipped in the cool water. A broad smile was on her face as she gazed at her reflection, watching the ripples as she swayed her feet back and forth. Soon enough a small group of birds dropped in, occupying the space on the fountain next to her. She greeted them with a smile, although she wished that she had something to feed them. Nonetheless, she offered a hand, just to see if they would come to her, like how they did in the movies. She wasn't a princess, or a fair maiden in an enchanted forest, but it was worth a shot anyway. They had nothing to fear. On a day like this, no one should have had anything to fear.
Or so it would seem.
Hoarse breathing, somehow amplified, disturbed the tranquil silence. It sounded, and felt, as if someone was breathing down her neck. Looking over her shoulder, she saw nothing. But she still heard that breathing as clear as the day. Looking back again, that was when she saw him. And he saw her, although he paid her no mind. His boots stomped against the pavement, each step leaving behind a heavy thud that echoed and felt so close to her. It was such a different feeling, a strange feeling that she felt as she watched him from afar. She had never felt anything like it. Without actually being close to her, he felt as if he was right there. He now actually was getting closer, though she was not sure if he was coming her way. She was both puzzled and intrigued by him, judging by his appearance alone. He was clad in black leather, which appeared more like a second skin than anything else, and while the top of his arms were exposed, the rest of his arms and down to his hands were beneath black gloves, befitting of a surgeon, or a mad doctor. Most notably was his mask, which engulfed the entirety of his face. It was an eerie gas mask, which explained why she could hear his breathing so clearly. She wondered why he wore it, which only furthered her intrigue. Maybe he needed to wear it. Maybe the air was toxic to him and no one else. Or maybe he didn't want anyone to see his face. All that she could see was his eyes, and even from this distance, his eyes were the most vivid she had ever seen. They were a wild, unhinged mix of emotions. In them, she saw anger, she saw sadness, she saw pain, she saw hate. They were so very haunting, perhaps even pitiable, but also so very captivating. As he got closer to the fountain, and to her, she was momentarily distracted by the exit of the birds. Disappointed that they flew off, she swung her feet out of the fountain's water and watched as the gas masked man walked past the fountain, and her. It was then that she performed a simple, seemingly miniscule gesture, that unbeknownst to both of them, would change the course of their lives.
"Hey!" she called to him. "Did you see that? You scared the birds away." He stopped in his tracks and slowly folded his arms behind his back. Breathing calmly, methodically, he turned his gaze upon the woman cloaked in black. He recognized those robes. Members of a certain Organization wore them. It was an organization that, like most things, he happened to detest.
"Did I?" he rhetorically asked. "Perhaps it was the sudden movement of a woman, or the splashing of the water, that scared them away." She grinned and shook her head.
"I did that after they flew off! After you scared them!" She seemed to be speaking in jest, but he appeared to be taking her completely seriously.
"Then perhaps I am the one responsible," he replied. "I do not know how I will go on, knowing what I have done. The last thing I would ever want… is for anyone to fear me." His words puzzled her. They sounded too over the top to be serious, and while she thought that he might have been being sarcastic, the tone of his voice told another story. He may have meant every word, or he may have meant none of it. She wasn't sure how to take it.
"Hmm… I'm not sure if I believe you," she playfully told him, still grinning. He took just one step closer to her.
"I fail to see how whether you believing me or not matters," he informed her, rather coldly. "Especially considering that we've never met, or ever spoken before." She crossed her arms across her chest.
"Hmph. Well, I fail to see how that matters," she quipped back, more seriously now but still tinged with a hint of that familiar playfulness.
"Indeed?" he wondered. "To you, I am a stranger. Before now, you've never seen me. You know not a thing about me. And yet you speak to me in such a way, such a mocking, condescending way. And to question the legitimacy of my words? I am truth, child, and I will not be disrespected by the likes of you." His words only puzzled her further. Hell, they utterly bewildered her.
"Disrespect? I was joking!" she managed to say, her smile gone. She appeared to be getting angry, and he noticed. It brought a crooked grin beneath that mask.
"I know," he admitted. "So was I." A look of surprise crossed her face before turning to a frown, a bothered pout.
"You have a funny way of showing it," she muttered. He took another step toward her.
"Is that not the purpose of humor?" he asked, amused. Her expression lightened now.
"I guess so," she conceded. "Oh! How could I forget? I'm Sarra."
"I know," he said again, chilling her down to her core. "I am Mantis." Hearing his 'name' chilled her even further. Like his eyes, his name was haunting, yet captivating. It could not be his actual name, could it?
"How do you know my name?" she asked, not trying to sound worried. But he could hear the slightest hint of fear in her voice, and he relished in it for a moment, taking a satisfied breath. He could feel it, that hint of fear. As a means of giving her an answer, he tapped the side of his head with two long fingers. This would not suffice for her.
"I don't understand," she said. "How do you know my name? Did you even really know it, or were you just messing with me?" He did not immediately answer, instead just having a brief chortle at her expense. The worry in her voice, the fear, had become more apparent. He crept toward her, going so far as to sit down on that fountain next to her. He was close to her now. She was within his grasp, but in truth, he already had her.
"What do you think, child? Do you think that I already knew, or are you questioning the legitimacy of my words again?" he eerily asked her.
"I think you're freaking me out!" she said, exasperated. "And I think you're toying with me, with my head. I'm not playing around. Please, just tell me!" She stayed seated on the edge of the fountain, but she started scooting backward, away from him.
"What if I knew everything about you? What if I could peer into your mind and see everything, uncover everything? Your name, your upbringing, your hopes… your fears?" he continued to question her, his voice so calm, so gentle, yet so very frightening. She was feeling something she had never felt before. His eyes were on her, yes, but she could feel his eyes within her as well. It was as if he truly was inside her head, toying with her mind. Knowing that now, realizing that, her fear began to dispel.
"I would say that you… you aren't lying. You have the power to read minds. That's how you knew my name. You read my mind," she answered him, her eyes now gazing down at the water.
"Ah. Yes, you understand now," he said, somehow speaking telepathically to her. "But I've not just the power to read minds, my dear. As you can see, I can speak to them. And just as easily, I can manipulate them. I can break them." Her eyes widened momentarily, and then she looked up from the water, locking her eyes with his.
"Well, if you're in there now, then I guess you already know this…" she began. "You don't scare me, 'Mantis.' And if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you got out of my head. You're not welcome there." He let out a loud, exaggerated "Hah!" before standing up from the fountain.
"Such insolence…" he coolly hissed, before continuing on aloud, not telepathically. "I go where I please, child! All minds are mine to –"
"And I'd appreciate it if you didn't address me as 'child,'" she cut him off. "You know my name, after all. And by the way, even with you wearing that creepy mask, I would imagine that you're not much older than me. Heh, you might even be younger than me." A grin returned to her face as he let out another hiss beneath that mask.
"I will call you what I please!" he snapped, before regaining his cool. "If you know what I am capable of, then you would do well to tread lightly. And unlike you, I do not condescend. You only are but a child before me. I have forgotten more than you know."
"You wanna know what I know?" she asked. "I know that you're a hypocrite. And an arrogant one, at that! I've only just met you, but I'm willing to wager that you try to bully and intimidate anyone you meet! That's no way to live." His expression flared beneath the mask. Now he was getting angry.
"Therein lies your childish naivety," he spat. "You fail to realize, fail to see, that all life is meaningless. Yours, mine, every life is worth nothing. We may live however we wish, for ultimately, none of it will matter." She stood up from the fountain, not willing to sit and listen any longer. She vehemently disagreed with every word he said, and it showed.
"You're wrong, 'Mantis,'" she said, taking a step toward him. "And the worst part is I have every reason in the world to agree with you! I'm nobody. I don't have a heart, like you do. I can't truly feel, like you can. But I know that my life is worth living. All life is! Everything we do matters in some way. And every one of us matters as well, even you. You really couldn't be more wrong!" He took a step toward her, his eyes enraged.
"You think I cannot see through your filthy lies?!" he hissed. "Foolish, feebleminded woman! 'Every one of us matters, even you,' bah! Do not insult me with such absurd delusions! Like all nobodies, you cling to some pathetic semblance of hope! There is no hope for you, for your ilk, or for anyone. I cannot be wrong, I am never wrong, and if you value your oh so precious life, then you will never make such a claim again!" Turning his words over in her mind, she smiled and calmly gave him her answer.
"You're wrong," she told him. "For that reason, I pity you. The proof that you are wrong is standing right in front of you, and you refuse to see it. I hope that you'll be able to see it one day. I hope that you'll see the good that the world has to offer you. I hope you'll see the good in other people. Believe me, I think a friend or two would do you good! In fact, I think I could be your friend. Maybe I can help you see the good in yourself." That was all he would hear. All he would allow her to say. He looked upon her with such devastation, such maliciousness, and within moments, he had hold of her mind. She brought her hands to her head, feeling him inside, feeling him impose his will upon her. His words bounced violently across her mind.
"All I see is a foolish child that must be taught a lesson," he said. "Keep your pity, I'll have none of it. I warned you to tread lightly. Heh, if you claim that I cannot see, then it is you who cannot listen. You will listen now. When the 'good' people of the world take you, snatch you from your mother's arms, keep you confined in a cage and experiment upon you like a worthless lab rat, you learn that any idea of what is 'good' is nothing more than a fallacy. You learn that hoping for things to get better, hoping for that 'good' to come, is the worst thing that you can possibly do. My eyes were opened a long time ago, my dear. I see the world, and its people, for what they truly are. I will show you now. I will show you pain."
He simply stared at her, his arms still folded behind his back. She pressed her palms against her eyes, trying her hardest to force him out. Whatever pain he wished to show her, she did not want to see. She was breathing heavily, desperate to break out of his mental hold, or to push him away. Anything, so long as it would stop it. She closed her eyes, but in her mind she could not avoid it. She could not avoid him. She saw, no doubt because of him, images of the very person he had been talking about. She saw men rip an infant out of a mother's arms, killing her outright before executing the husband in the same way. She saw a young man, trapped in a cage of cold steel, screaming such an anguished, sorrowful scream. And then, she saw burning, she saw an immense, terrible fire sweep across her mind, and she heard more screams. The last thing she saw was a gas masked man floating above the flames, tears in his eyes, bowing as if he were upon a stage.
When she opened her eyes, she frantically spun away from him, drawing two knives that had been concealed within her robes. She held them at the ready, still breathing heavily, as she stared at the psychic a short distance away. He no longer had his eyes on her, but she could still see him. Like before, she saw the anger, the sadness, the pain, and the hate. Such feelings had now been contextualized, and for whatever reason, she thought that she could feel his sadness, and his pain. She didn't know why, or how, but he had affected her in a way that no one else ever had. She pitied him even more than before. No one deserved to suffer in such a way. Tears forming in her eyes, she shook her head, her guarded stance wavering. Her heavy breathing turned to shorter, quicker gasps.
"I'm sorry," she managed to say. "I'm so sorry… But you're wrong."
Before he had a chance to lash out again, she had already gone, ripping open a dark portal and hurrying through it. She was gone. The fact that she was able to escape his grasp only served to enrage him further. His arms fell to his sides, his hands clenched into fists. With a bitter roar he flung his arms out, and he brought the fountain down upon itself. The water weakly sputtered out of its broken spouts before falling silent. He then raised his hands to the back of his head, pacing back and forth in maddening frustration. He was not wrong, he could not be wrong. And he could not let prey escape. He never did.
"You think you can flee?! You think you can escape my sight?!" he telepathically shouted, even though she could have been worlds away. It did not matter if she did not hear him. "You think I will not find you?! There is nowhere you can run that I will not follow! I will find you, I will open your eyes even if I have to pry them open with my bare hands! The pain I showed you was but a taste, a small sample of what is to come! You will learn pain, true pain, and you will learn true fear! Heart or not heart, you will feel them both before you are broken. And believe me, my dear, you will be broken. And you will beg for the life, the life that you consider to be so dear, to end! You will long for nothing more than for it all to end! And it will, oh, it will, only when I allow it to. Until then, run, for I will be upon you. And I will make you listen again."
With that, he was gone, vanishing as people rushed to the commotion of the fountain. He did not know it at the time, but just as he had affected her, she had greatly affected him. No one had ever mattered to him, people were nothing in his eyes, but he wanted to find her again. He would be committed to hunting her down. No one else ever drove him to such lengths, or inspired him to such a commitment. And no one had ever escaped him. The few that did only did so because he allowed it. The rest either were utterly broken or killed. He would not allow her to be the outlier. Such passionate rage he felt toward her, and such deep pity she felt toward him, would serve as merely the foundations for the legitimate feelings that would ultimately blossom. Neither of them knew it, nor would they ever expect it, but his hate, and her hope, would melt and mold into something that the two would one day share. A feeling that he did not know he possessed, and a feeling that she did not know she could feel.