The blood dripping on her father's hands were least of Maka's worries. The sharp rancid smell of blood filled the tiny apartment and made her green eyes water as she tried registered what just happened.
The whole apartment was a butcher house. Two bodies lay on the floor, surrounded by glass shards from the broken window. The two chairs lay on the floor broken with an empty brown suitcase. A plastic blue pitcher from the rickety brown table kept on spilling water on the floor, mixing clear water with the blood.
Putting the pitcher upright, Maka stared at her mother's now lifeless body that was once warm and welcoming with the scent of security, which now lay motionless. Dropping to her knees, Maka knelt down next to her mother and closed her mother's eyelids. It will be last time she will ever see her mother's mysterious green eyes, like the forest, with sparkled like emeralds. Her face was slightly warm, and her cheek was painted with a slight pink blush and her lips still had her signature pink gloss. Maka stroked through her mother's lush, soft blonde hair, just like the times when she needed to be comforted. Yes, even death cannot erase the radiance of her mother.
You look like your mother! She thought to the times when strangers would come to her and her mother to say that. Tears streamed from her cheeks. No, she's much prettier. She would have replied. Her mother was one of a kind, her beauty was beyond compare and now, gone.
"You're safe now..." Her father's voice trembled as he takes his blood caked survival knife from the man with the brown trench coat. "Maka?" Her father tapped her shoulder. She examined his face. He had strong angular jaw, neat red hair that fell to his chin. Maka stared onto the eyes she hated most, her father's dark blue eyes. But instead of relief, her father's eyes were placed with genuine sadness. It was easy to see why Maka's mother had fell in love with him. All his features were striking and handsome. But no matter what, Maka will never forgive him.
"You never loved her anyway." She said quietly.
"We should leave." He ignored her words and grabbed Maka's skinny arms.
"No! I'm not going anywhere with you" Maka screamed at him. "You disgust me!"
"MAKA! Why can't you understand for once?" Her father was shouting now, "It's not safe here anymore! Bad people are out there trying to get us!"
"Get you! Not us! You should have died!" Maka glared at him, "After mom found out you were cheating on her, you never stopped! And It's your fault she died!"
"Grow up, Maka!" her father growled. "You're coming with me, even if you don't like it!"
"Why? So you can ignore us and ruin my life even more?" Maka sobbed angrily.
"It's not safe here anymore!" Her father repeated. On his forehead, little droplets of sweat started pouring over. In his deep blue eyes, his pupils dilated out of fear.
"Get your clothes and books." Her father ordered, picking up a brown suitcase, "And everything you need."
Nodding, Maka had no choice but obey her father. For once, he was right. Where else can Maka go to anyway? Maka went into her and her mother's shared room. She was pleased with the fact the rotting smell of blood hadn't got here yet.
Feverishly, Maka grabbed her all her underwear, blouses and skirts into the suitcase. As she stuffed five books into the suitcase, her eyes began to look for her mother's favorite black trench coat.
Quickly, she ran over her mother's clothes trunk, rapidly trying to find the coat. As she dug deeper, she found a black trench coat neatly folded on the bottom.
"Thank goodness." Maka sighed. Walking out of her room for the last time, she obediently follows her father out to a shiny jet black 1940's sedan car.
Two men were sat in front of the car, taking the driver's seat and shotgun. The one in the driver's had silver gray hair, gray bored eyes and thin rimmed spectacles. His face had a dead expression, and scars almost on every inch of his body. The one riding shot gun was dressed covered from head to toe with a black cloak. He donned a skull mask and white clean gloves.
"Where's your wife?" A man with silvery gray hair and spectacles turned from the driver's seat to the parent and Maka. "Spirit?"
The father said nothing. His green eyes were stone cold his brows were furrowed, like he was trying to solve an impossible math problem.
"Oh." The driver turned back to the wheel awkwardly, "Sorry."
Starting the car, Spirit sighed. "I'm sorry Maka. I'm a bad father. I failed."
Maka said nothing. Instead she stared out to the dark sleeping city. How embarrassing that she was in her pink pajamas and was in front of her lousy father.
"Death lord, prepare a funeral." Spirit says to the man riding shotgun. "Get your little undertakers to take care of her."
Death lord nods. "I won't charge." His voice was raspy and sounded like one of those villains from a child's television series.
"I love you and your mother very much." Spirit said quietly to Maka. "I warned her, but she didn't listen."
Maka scoffed, ignoring everyone in the car.
"We'll have a funeral for her." Spirit's voice lowered, "I have her buried in beautiful flowers and in the prettiest dress we can find."
"Your papa was trying to save you, Maka." the driver says quietly to her, "I'm Uncle Stein."
"You've met him when you were a kid." Spirit adds.
"Where are you taking me?" Maka demanded and crossed her arms.
"We're taking you to your father's house!" A mocking childlike tone giggled. To her surprise, that voice came out of the creepy man sitting shotgun.
"Oh." Maka replied quietly. Exhausted from shock, Maka slid down on her seat and held her mother's trench coat close. To her surprise, it still smelt like her mother- Roses and daisies.
"So, how old are you this year, Maka?" Death lord continued in his childish tone.
"12."
"Oh, I have a son who's 14 this year." Death lord says proudly, "and two adopted daughters around your age."
"What are their names?" She asked curiously.
"Death, Liz and Patty." Death lord said happily, "You can hang out with them."
"That's a weird name." Maka sneered, "Why, are you a Satan worshipper?"
"Maka!" Spirit hissed as the car drove through the city like a blur. "That was rude!"
Embarrassed, the lord of death narrowed his eyebrows inside his mask. "Uh… What are you hobbies?"
"I like to read and listen to stories." Maka replied.
"Do you like dresses and make up?"
"Not really."
"What about animals? Do you like them?"
"I like small ones."
"We're here." Stein mumbled to the passengers. Maka looked out. From her car window, she could see an antique old fashioned brown house with a tiny garden, surrounded by other identical houses and shops. The place where she was born.
"I'm going to have to stay here, am I?" Maka asked cautiously.
"Yeah." Spirit opens the car door and blows nose loudly." Excuse me."
In her room, Maka stared at her reflection on the pocket mirror as she brushed harsh knots out of her blonde straight hair. She looked young for her age, like a ten year old instead. Too make matters worse, she was flat chested. Sometimes she wanted to look like her mother. Lush, Curly blonde hair, mysterious amber eyes and, well, a larger chest.
Setting the comb on the pink fluffy cloud patterned bed post; she sat on her new pink bed, which looked so out of place from the pink nursery room. After she and her mother had left his place, it was still neat and the way she remembered it. The rocking chair in the corner had been wiped and shined, the closet filled with baby clothes which soon had to be replaced. Picking up the black trench coat from the bed, she tried putting it on. It was a size too big, but she would eventually grow into it. Sliding to the pockets of the coat, she found a piece of paper; a family photo. There her mother was with her big smile and her father hugging both Maka and her mother closely. Just the thought of her made her sob.
"Maka?" Her father knocked on her white door. "Is everything all right?"
"No! Go away!" Maka choked from her tears, but animal sounds came out.
Maka wanted to run away as soon as she saw her father standing in the doorway. He had definitely been crying; his snake- like green eyes was puffy and red, or maybe, he was drunk. The last thing she needed was comfort from her dad: the same man who cheated on her mother with other women and cared more about his work than her.
"There's something I needed to tell you." Spirit bit his lower lip.
Maka said nothing. Instead, she curled into a protective ball and turned away from her father.
"I'm going to tell you what I really do for a living." Spirit continued, "But please don't tell anyone."
What else could he be doing? Maka thought to herself angrily. Spirit worked at the education department and a university professor in Death City, and made tons of money from it.
"You're a professor, aren't you?" Maka questioned weakly.
"Yeah, but I have another job too." Spirit scratched his red hair. "Remembered how I always have to go to meetings?"
Maka shook her head sideways.
"I'm a mafia boss." Spirit says to her quietly.
"What?" Maka wiped her green eyes and sat up straighter.
"Your mother..." Her father paused. "And I have kept this away from you for years."
"You're a mob boss." Maka snorted, "that's why they killed mom."
"They were going to kill you too." Spirit looked down at his feet. "But I'm never going to let that happen."
Maka's eyes widened. Suddenly everything made sense. Why her mother left Death city with her a traveled to places, and in the first place, why they had tons of money. Why her mother was always paranoid when she left Maka alone. Why her mother was killed.
"Now you tell me?" Maka glared at her father, demanding an answer. "You're criminal?"
"I'm sorry Maka." Spirit kept looking down at his feet. The tension in the air felt incorrect. Instead of the parent, the child scolds the parent. It's my fault she's angry at me. Spirit thought. Sitting down on his daughter's bed, he lets out a long sigh. "It's my fault. I wanted to save her. But they got to her first."
"I know." Maka replied bitterly.
"That's why we're going to have to lay you low for a while," Spirit played around with his fingers warily. "And you're going to have to be homeschooled from now on."
Maka started to protest, "Please, dad, I really don't want to be homeschooled!"
"You have to understand, this is for your own safety." Her father's tone was surprisingly serious and his deep blue eyes were stern, "I know you have lots of friends, but now I know it's not safe, the bad people should know where your school is."
"Do the bad people know where we are now?" Maka asked impatiently.
"No." Her father said calmly, "They will never find us."
Nodding, Maka let a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
"H-huh?" Her father was surprised, "I-I mean, I promise to never let them hurt you."
"I'm going to bed now." Maka says, "I'm glad we had this talk."
Spirit nodded. As soon as he got out of his daughter's room, he smiled lightly. It was the first time his daughter had made some recognition of kindness towards him.
"I'm going to protect my Maka no matter what." Spirit whispered to himself.