Another night. This one seemed darker: the waning crescent moon didn't provide nearly as much light as usual.

But who the fuck cared.

Who the fuck cared if it rained, snowed or fridges fell from the skies? Every day, every night, it was just the same as any other.

Use the five-finger discount on the local 7/11 to grab some chips or whatever for dinner - check.

Take a walk down the shopping district and snatch some precariously-placed purses – check.

Buy as much as snow white possible from that filthy Armenian by the homeless shelter – check.

Find some dump to hide out for the rest of the night – check. Well almost.

"Hey, can you share some of that shit?"

The bum should have just kept his mouth shut.

"Piss off, motherfucker. You got ten seconds to get the fuck out of my sight before I pop a cap in your sorry ass."

She pulled out the Glock she'd bought in an alley downtown and aimed it at the bearded man, who sorely needed a bath. Not that she could tell, as the same could be said for her.

"Shit, bitches get crazier and crazier everyday…" He mumbled, as he trailed off, jumping off through the same broken window which he'd use to get inside that apparently abandoned warehouse.

She'd read about it in a piece of newspaper on the street: apparently, some idiots went crazy and nearly offed themselves with gas. She figured a place like that would be perfect to snooze off, the weird stuff driving away hobos and other idiots. Apparently, not even that worked these days.

She shrugged off the thought, sat in a dark corner of the now-empty warehouse, and pulled a spoon, a lighter, a water bottle a small plastic bag containing a white powder and a small box of baking soda from inside her dirty jacket. With her hand trembling, she placed the powder inside the spoon, then some water and baking soda, and lit up the lighter underneath the spoon, eagerly waiting for her "cooking" to finish.

Suddenly, a large flame erupted on top of the spoon, for no apparent reason. Almost half a meter tall, it burnt a few of the large crimson hairs that ran down to her eyes before the girl could react. She quickly threw away her soon-to-be-satisfaction to spare herself, and sprang up, patting her forehead with her hands.

"Who the fuck did-"

My child, life is a gift from God. It is a sin to waste it away like that.

The voice echoed through her brain, coming from seemingly nowhere. It only added to the shock she had, as she watched the steel walls of the warehouse melt away, and give way to a completely monochromatic world, a single black path hovering above a rift of endless white. A large red torch emblazoned the end of the path: only then did she realize it the path was actually a gigantic arm, the end of it being the hand that held the torch. And in front of it, stood a single black shadow the size of a small child, apparently praying to the torch.

"What the fuck, I hadn't even touched the stuff yet… did my mind finally break or something?" She said to herself.

No, what you see is real. I was the one who brought you to my presence, to show you God's pure light, and to compel you to show others the way to His path.

"The light?" She asked with contempt. "Why the fuck would I need that? I have my life, I'll live it might own way. And don't call me a child, little miss."

I understand your life is unfortunate, and thus I forgive you for your insolence. Your words are nothing but the product of the impurity that has taken over you, my child. Once I enlighten you, you will understand…

As soon as the voice in her head fell quiet, the young woman was dragged up the sloped path against her will, pushed by an invisible force, and stopped right behind the little girl. She was then forced to walk around and kneel before her, with her neck centimeters away from the unmoving figure's head.

"Y-you bitch…"

She shouted and struggled, but it was to no avail. The child, never breaking her prayer, leaned in just slightly, touching the young woman's neck with ethereal lips.

The moment her neck was touched, her mind went blank, blinded by a light brighter than the Sun itself. Flashes of her life passed through her eyes, all enveloped by the same hallowed light.


Sunday afternoon. A typical neighborhood, a typical house, a typical peaceful, smiling family gathering together for lunch, with a large, succulent turkey in the middle of the table.

However, their peace was about to be disturbed by an unexpected visit.

"In a sec!" A female voice said, answering to the doorbell in the midst of a scramble of dishes and silverware.

"Good after-"

Her cheery voice was instantly silenced the moment she opened the door. She looked to the figure standing at her doorstep with stern eyes, and slowly closed the door behind her.

"How do you dare to show up here? After what you've done?"

The contrast between both figures was stark. On one side stood a middle-age woman, wearing an apron over a casual dress, holding turkey scissors and standing in front of a typical, medium high class flat. On the other stood a young woman, around twenty years old, who wore an orange, hooded jacket that was soiled with multiple stains, a plain, black t-shirt underneath it, and old, ripped jeans. Her snickers, however, were of a quality brand, and looked quite expensive, surely stolen. Long, loose red hairs covered her forehead completely, extendeding down to her shoulders. Even though little of her skin was visible, the rough edges of numerous tattoos could be seen: the most noticeable one was a large, bright red cross in her neck.

"I know I have no right to even appear before you, mother. I have sinned."

"That money you stole was for your brother's college! Damn right you… sinned?" Her tone suddenly changed upon realizing, with surprise, that her daughter had accepted the error of her ways... but even more so, that she was calling her "mother".

"What brought that up?"

"Mother, I have seen the light." She said, almost ecstatic, looking at the heavens, then at the wooden crucifix her mother wore in a necklace. "The Lord has shown me the error of my ways, and the path that I must take."

The young woman closed her hand around her mother's.

"But I have to start by healing myself. Mother, I beg you, can you help me?"

The mature woman was shocked. She babbled, dazzled, and felt her eyes dampen, and soon enough she wasn't able to hold back her tears. She affectionately hugged her daughter, wrapping her arms around her tightly.

"…Of course I will, Nao. Of course I will."


"And this is where you'll be working." The man said, pointing at the rows and rows of piled up cardboard boxes as they hastily walked past them. "The shipping department may not be glamorous, but it's the heart and soul of the company."

The pair stopped near a parked truck, which was being loaded with boxes via forklift and by hand by several workers. The man gave a loud whistle, gathering the attention of everyone in the warehouse.

"Everyone, stop what you're doing just for a moment." He paused for a second, cleared his throat, and then continued, pointing at the young woman. "Everyone, this is Naoko Mitsukai, and she'll be working with you from now on. She's fresh, so help her out as much as you can."

Several unconvincing "Hey"'s and "Okay"'s were heard across the room, as the men returned to their tasks.

"Sorry I can't give you a proper introduction, you really picked the wrong day to join us. It's being hell up there today." The manager said, laughing. Naoko smiled back.

"Naoko," He continued. "you're fresh out of rehab, and you have a job."

"And I can't thank God, mother and you enough for it." She quickly replied.

"Don't praise me, I owed your mother a solid." He said, with a smile. "Don't waste this chance, Naoko."

"I won't. With God's help, I won't fail."

The man nodded, and hurriedly left the warehouse, leaving the new worker to her new life.


"Great work, Naoko! You did more in your first day than most do after years of experience! Can't wait to see what else you're capable off!"

The fellow worker that had accompanied her throughout the day, a jolly old man sporting a large white beard, meant every single one of his words, and Naoko knew it.

"It's all thanks to God, who cast His light upon me."

"You should give yourself some credit, you know." The elder said, with a smile. "Right. It's getting late, so I'll be on my way. See you tomorrow!"

She waved goodbye to him while lifting one last box to the waiting truck, closing the trailer's door and knocking two times, signaling to the driver that he was all set. As the trucked shifted into first gear and slowly pulled away, she wiped her forehead and headed to the bathroom before leaving.

"...Yeah, yeah, I'll bring rice home. Now shut up and go look after the brat. No, I told you, YOU take care of it, it's not my problem. Oh? Well then the fuck with you!"

From the stall, she could hear a man shouting at his cell phone in the men's bathroom, and ending the call rather rudely. They both came out of the bathrooms at the same, bumping into each other.

"Oh… you're the new worker, right? Damn… you're hot."

He leaned in, to the point where Naoko could feel the man's breath on her neck. She instantly backtracked, but the man grabbed her arm tightly.

"Where do you think you're going? We're gonna have some fun, you and me…"

The man forcefully dragged her inside the men's bathroom and threw her into a stall as he took his shirt off, with a large, evil grin on his face.

The girl struggled, but he had her pinned down. She kicked her feet in the air, trying to free herself, but to no avail: the man continued to undress her against her will, unzipping her worker's jumpsuit and rubbing his upper body against her breasts. Suddenly, however, her resistance stopped. A shooting pain in the back of her neck paralyzed her completely.

Naoko, that stray sheep has committed the sin of lust against you.

The pain in her neck intensified, and Naoko screamed in apparent rage, causing the man to flinch momentarily. With surprising strength, she threw the man off of her, and pushed him against the wall.

"You… stupid bitch…"

It is a deadly sin, and that man must suffer God's punishment for it. Enact it.

As if guided by an invisible hand, Naoko reached into the back pocket of her jumpsuit and retrieved a utility knife. Without hesitation, she stabbed the man's neck. Copious amounts of blood squirted out, staining her face and clothes red, as the men tried helplessly to remove the embedded knife. He was dead before he could even touch the handle.

You have done well, Naoko. You have performed God's will.

"I… I…"

"God's will?"

Yes. Those who cannot accept His light, those who insist on confronting Him, must be punished. I saved you from that destiny, Naoko. But those who do not want to be saved cannot be left in this world. That is His will.

"If that's His will, then I…"


"Holy hell, man, did you hear what happened last night?"

"Yeah… someone shanked Souichirou in the bathroom, right?"

The two workers stood outside the warehouse, which had been locked down by the police. Dozens of officers and CSIs wandered about, momentarily gathering in small groups to discuss the case at hand and exchange information before carrying on with their duties.

"Uhm… Yukitaka Edogawa," A young officer announced to the crowd of gathered workers. "Please, step forward."

"It's my turn. I have no clue what to tell them… hell, I'm still shocked, man…"

"I say good riddance." His friend replied. "The guy was a goddamn bastard who beat up his wife and spat on bums on the street. Hope he's rotting in hell. And now that he's gone, I want his position as chief packager. The fucker didn't deserve it in the first place."

"Still…"

"Just go. Don't leave the cops waiting. While you're inside, I'll just go grab a snack around the corner, 'kay?"

His friend nodded, before weaving through the crowd to get to the officer. As he walked inside, the man turned around and headed for the snack bar two blocks away.

Greed.

He never returned.


"Dammit, now it was Daisuke! What the fuck is going on?"

"I-I do-don't know man, but I'm scared as shit." Yukitaka answered, nearly freaking out. "I was the last guy who saw him alive... what if I'm next?"

"Hey, chill out. The cops will find who's doing this."

"Yeah, I know… Hey, mind if I go outside and have a smoke?" He asked, shaking badly.

"Hell, man, that's like the tenth time you paused for a smoke. I'm not gonna lecture you on the evils of smoking, but you've basically slacked all day. It's bad enough already that we can only work on this side of the warehouse… If you're too scared to work, then just stay home."

"Yeah, sure… can I just go?" He replied, having heard absolutely nothing.

"Yeah, yeah, go, I'll cover you."

Yukitaka thanked his co-worker and hurried outside, clumsily retrieving a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. His hand shaking badly, he lighted one and took a large puff, sighing in relief afterward.

Such was his relief that he didn't notice the shadow that approached him from behind.

Sloth.


"A fucktard stabbed in a warehouse bathroom. It was an easy case. Now, because you didn't take care of it, we have a serial killer in hands and I'm knee-deep in media shit. TAKE CARE OF IT!"

The chief of police hung up on him, leaving him holding his cell phone in the air aimlessly.

"Holy crap, I could hear him from here." A young officer said, approaching his superior and lead investigator on that case. "The old man is pissed off."

"He doesn't understand things. All he does is deal with the media and the mayor. He doesn't know jack about what we deal with out here every day." He replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Don't you think it's weird, though?" The young officer questioned, adjusting his glasses. "The first guy was a douchebag by all reports, but the other two were actually decent folk. It breaks every serial killer standard, unless there's a pattern we haven't figured out yet."

"I agree, and it makes stuff difficult." The lead investigator affirmed. "I hoped to get something from forensics, but the killer used gloves."

"This won't be easy…"

"I'll do it. Hey, remember: I took care of the LCD murderer; I busted the South Park Kennys; I arrested the Simpson yakuza; hell, I even solved the case of that pedophile that dressed like a bear." He said, knocking his knuckles on his police badge. "I'm the best detective in this city; I'm not going to let some jackass with a utility knife knock me down."

The lead investigator then looked at his wristwatch.: it read 10 P.M.

"Alright, that's a wrap for today." He said, retrieving a pack of gum from his pocket. "We'll pick this up tomorrow."

"Okay, boss."

The two officers parted ways, leaving the warehouse empty for the night. The detective slid underneath the police tape, walked up to the parking lot, and entered his cruiser, taking off his uniform hat and placing it in the passenger seat. Before he could start the car, however, he heard a light knock on the window. He rolled it up and addressed the obscured figure outside.

"Hello, what do you-"

Pride.


"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh sh-"

The man got immediately treated with a large palm to the back of his head for his excessive swearing. A couple of patrons looked at the pair but quickly lost interest: it was nothing uncommon for a low-class bar like that.

"Get a hold of yourself, man!"

"Dude, now the cops are getting killed too. I mean… the next one could be anyone of us!" He said, nearly screeching. He was treated to another slap, and promptly took a couple of large sips from his beer, in a futile attempt to calm down.

"Yeah, well, just deal with it. It's not like worrying about it will do any good."

The man reached into his pocket, and retrieved a small, diamond-incrusted ring.

"I-Is that-"

"Souichirou's ring? Yeah, I managed to sneak in while the cops weren't looking and took it. The goddamn asshole doesn't deserve to be buried with something like this. Plus," He said, as he put it around his middle finger. "it looks good on me, doesn't it?"

"Oh man, you're really going to hell."

"Hah. And you only tell me that now?" He replied, mockingly.

The two men drank the night away, their nerves soothed by the booze. At closing hours, they parted ways. However, the ring bearer was too drunk to drive, so he stumbled to a bus stop nearby, falling against the seat with a large thud.

In his drunkenness, he was in no state to react when he saw his middle finger, ring still attached, fly in front of his eyes, cut off.

Vanity.


"She did it. She totally did it."

The two women exchanged venomous words as they waited for their husbands at the warehouse's gate. They had decided to go there, just to see what the fuss with the murders was all about.

"Souichirou had a huge life insurance taken on himself, and her wife got it all. It must have been her."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because that's what I'd do." She answered, without ceremony. "Oh god, I wish I was in her place!"

"But didn't you hear? The guy beat her up every-"

"So what? The hell with that, and the hell with having a husband too. I'd be stinkin' rich, and that's all I care."

"Sheesh, you haven't changed at all."

"Not one bit."

The woman quickly turned to the entrance, from where her husband had just emerged. "Hey, honey! I came to see how you were doing... How was your day?" She asked, in a smooth voice that would fool every man, but her friend easily uncovered as being a filthy lie. She ignored it, however, and allowed the pair to walk away.

The man mumbled something, to which his wife answered with interest, even though she couldn't care less about it. They stopped by her car, where she asked her husband to wait a bit while she bought Virginia Slims from a nearby shop.

But she didn't even make it there.

Envy.


"It's almost unbelievable… Can you hand me that plate?"

Another Sunday, another family lunch. But this time, there was no vacant seat at the table. Naoko was, of course, the center of attention; after all her years of absence and the weeks she spent in rehab after appearing out of the blue one Sunday, it was the first time they were able to have her at that family tradition. This new Naoko worried them slightly, as including the words "God" and "Lord" in every other sentence was awkward, even for a Christian family. However, if her devotion was the cure for her ills, they wouldn't question it.

Especially if that meant that she'd volunteer to help with the dishes even when it wasn't her turn.

"You finally get a job, and something like this happens. A serial killer… what has this world come to?"

"You know, mother," She said, as she grabbed a fistful of silverware. "those people were sinners. They're not as innocent as you think."

"Nao, what do you-"

Explosions and loud shouts cut her off. In the blink of an eye, the two doors leading to the kitchen were blown off their hinges, and half a dozen armed men surrounded them, with several more outside.

"Mitakihara Police! Hands up!"

The middle-aged woman reached for the sky, in utter shock. However, her daughter did not move a muscle.

This is not the time to waver, Naoko.

"Nao-"

"Get away from her, Ma'am! She's very dangerous!" An officer said, taking aim at Naoko.

"What do you mean?" She answered, insulted. "She's my-"

"Naoko Mitsukai, you are under arrest for the Warehouse Murders!" A policeman shouted, using the name made popular by the mass media covering the events.

The matriarch fell to her knees in disbelief.

"You do not understand." Naoko spoke, steady in her feet, her voice solid. "Those stray sheep had committed deadly sins. It is the Lord's will that they be punished for them."

"Y-YOU BITCH!"

She turned around in place and saw a familiar face: a young policeman, who she recognized as the aide to the proud detective whom she'd passed judgment upon.

"You dare excusing your crimes with that?" He shouted in absolute anger, breaking all protocol. "Sinners? My boss was a good man! He had a family! He had a job that made everyone's lives better! And you… YOU!…"

The young man couldn't even complete his sentence. He was livid, sweat running down his forehead as if he'd just run a marathon. His fellow officers, never taking their eyes for their sights, looked at him through the corner of their eyes, worried that he'd do something insane.

The next instant, Naoko dropped all the silverware she held in her hand, save for one piece. The policemen's hands tensed up, but none fired. They were so focused that none noticed the cross-shaped tattoo in her neck that now shone in a bright red.

The final sin.

"Wrath."

In a lightning-quick motion, she raised her hand and threw the kitchen knife she held straight at the young policeman's head. The poor man had no time to react. The blade pierced through his right eye and buried itself deep inside his brain, killing him instantly. His limp body fell to the kitchen floor slowly, collapsing backwards.

It wasn't long before another cadaver joined him: Naoko's, her head pierced five times by pistol rounds. Her blood and brain matter soiled the pristine white walls, the windows, and even the clothes of her mother.

Slowly, the officers lowered their handguns and removed their hats, mourning their fallen comrade. One of them approached the middle aged woman in an effort to comfort her, but she laid on her knees, unmoving. When, several minutes later, she finally snapped out of her trance, she completely ignored the policeman next to her and threw herself over her daughter's dead body, crying her heart out. The sight made the scene even worse, and the youngest of the officers, surely no older than twenty, had to make a run to the bathroom, as his stomach was not able to take what he'd just witnessed.


She was dead. She was sure of that. She watched as her brains were blown off and her body fell lifeless on the floor. Yet, even though she couldn't move or feel anything, she was still… there, somehow. An incomprehensible limbo between life and death, where she felt nothing, and yet, trying to grasp the mere concept of her existence was excruciatingly painful.

"Is… My Lord, is this how it ends?"

No, Naoko, it is not.

In the next instant, the monochromatic world where she had found her devotion materialized around her, so seamlessly that it was like she had been there all along.

"…My Lord?"

Not yet. It is only me, His faithful servant.

The same child-like figure as before stood in front of her, but unlike then, she had nothing but reverence for it. That voice, her voice had guided her, had made her see the light…

Naoko attempted to kneel, but her body was no longer there. The now useless hunk of meat had been left behind in the world she once belonged to. All she had now was a long, black serpentine body that, again, felt like she had had it all long. Unfazed, she bowed down with it.

You tried to show the world to the right path, but despite you best efforts… they ignored you, and made you a martyr. But your devotion has not been for naught. Stay with me, and we will continue to carry out His holy will.

Even if you fall to the darkness, I will protect you.

Always.


Wrath.

You are a sinner, no doubt, and have committed every sin God has forbidden.

But wrath is your foremost. Oblivious to those who call for you, ignorant to the truth that you refuse to see, you curse the world and the heavens. You attack everything in sight, unleashing all of your rage and hate for your own wretched life upon the world. You shout and scream like a berserker, blood drunk, mercilessly slashing and ripping apart the devout souls that inhabit this realm, and eventually myself.

God will not save me this time. But as I see you madly running for me, blurred in blue light, blade held high, your white cape soiled with the blood of your victims, I am sure that He won't save you either. And although I will die here, it matters not: the slashes and cuts you inflict on me, regardless of how much pleasure they give you, have no bearing. For all that you have done… you will soon become like me.


A/N: I'm not gonna lie. I like this, A LOT, even though it might be the darkest thing I've ever written. Wait, could it be why? Dear god, the corruption is spreading...

The plot is obviously based on the theory that Elsa Maria is a madly devout Christian, given the symbolism in her barrier. Most of the dialogue is purposefully uneducated. Not that I usually hold back on the swearing when needed, but the characters here are all low-class.

For the young minds not yetas corrupted as mine: she was cooking crack.

By the way, it's 6:30 AM here. Thought I'd mention that, for whatever reason.

A huge thanks to Mystia Katsuragi and ChiptuneImpulse for the beta!

And, as always, hope you enjoyed!