A/N: So me, being the type of person who gets bored in Journalism class, wrote this story fairly quickly, so if there's anything weird or wrong with it, just let me know. And plus, this is probably just horrible.
Disclaimer: I don't own Claymore. It's the product of Norihiro Yagi.
Priscilla.
Priscilla.
Where are you Priscilla?
No.
Clare.
Where is Clare?
Danger. Clare is in danger.
Priscilla is looking for Clare-
Has been looking, for seven years-
Using me. Her - Clare's scent - always on me.
Why couldn't I smell it?
Why couldn't I figure it out?
Clare. Silver-eyed witch. Claymore.
The person who saved my life.
The person who made me happy in the wake of disaster.
The person who was full of such light and hope in such a dark world.
The person who I love
Have loved
And will love.
I have to get out…to save her.
They've taken me somewhere - chained me, arms hanging, feet dragging.
I open my eyes and ears and drag myself into consciousness.
These thoughts have invaded my mind and have made my purpose clear:
I must find Clare.
And I must kill Priscilla.
Priscilla.
She gave up flesh for me.
The one thing that keeps her going. That keeps her alive.
Seven years.
Seven years without a taste of flesh for her.
Seven years without a sight of Clare for me.
Does she remember?
Does Clare remember?
I lick my dry, cracked lips, searching for a lingering taste of the lips that touched mine seven years ago.
That day.
Going to hunt an awakened being.
Ophelia.
Ophelia.
Ophelia and her game.
That day, as I fought Ophelia and played in her game, I wasn't scared.
I couldn't be scared.
Not when Clare was in danger.
As she reattached her legs, I managed to make eye contact with her.
She was scared.
But not for herself.
For me.
I had to make sure she was safe.
But…
When she told me that she would find me one day, I believed her.
Even if it has been seven years, I know she is still looking.
Still alive.
Sometimes, when we - Priscilla and I - were walking in a town, she would stop in the middle of the road and sniff the air. At the time I thought nothing of it.
But now I know what she was doing.
Sniffing for Clare.
Clare must have been in that city recently.
Or Clare had been right behind us.
She was leading me on; I was just a pawn she was using to get to Clare.
I am a fool.
…
…
…
Wait.
What is that?
My ears and eyes have started to work again.
It has been just a moment since I came back to my senses, and all I see is a dark, slimy, brick wall, splattered with blood.
I do not know if it is mine, or some previous prisoner's.
My body is so sore.
But wait.
Don't think about that.
Listen.
Hear.
What do I hear?
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
And the occasional "Damnit!"
Swords.
Fighting.
Claymore…fighting?
Wait.
I hear…a voice.
A voice I recognize.
Female. Authoritative.
But from where?
Think, Raki, think!
It hits me.
The team leader. The one who led Clare and the others into the mountains to kill an awakened being.
If she's here, then maybe, just maybe.
Clare.
I open my dry mouth. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth for a few seconds.
I croak, trying to speak.
I swallow, try again.
"Cla…" I manage to rasp, before my voice gives out.
I keep trying.
"Cla…"
"Clar.."
"Cla…"
Cough. Cough. Again.
"Clar…"
"Clare."
Finally. I've croaked out her name
That single syllable
That tastes like sugar on my tongue.
I suck in a deep breath,
And then I wait.
Wait until someone gets close enough to hear me.
…
…
…
There. Someone.
Another familiar voice.
One of the other members of the team that went into the mountains with Clare.
She was close. Maybe she would hear.
I had to hope.
I closed my eyes
Clenched my fists
Opened my mouth
And screamed.
"CLARE!"
Fin.
A/N: Phew. There it is. Review, if you'd like.