Why am I posting another one-shot, right? Well, that's a pretty decent question, since I have many other things I should be writing and giving you, aye? One, I'm still battling with that block on 'Blood,' which is hindered by limited writing time, and two, this ideas has been poking me forever and I finally got it through my head to write it! Squee! Whee... One-shots. So much fun.
Zol
I stood on the ridge, cloak billowing around me, scythe propped on my shoulder. Below the cliff sat a small, rundown village. There were suffering from a drought, and it had hit them hard.
I follow the droughts. I follow the bounties. I take the ones that no one else will take, or many have tried, but have always failed. People seem surprised when I bring down these criminals so easily, and then disappear before I can collect my reward. It just takes a certain amount of determination. And as for money… I find it useless. Who needs food anyway?
Besides, I have a bounty of my own on my head. I can't risk sticking around. I could, I suppose, but I don't like killing the fools that think they can take down Zol.
That's the name I have taken. Zol. Rain Killer Zol… I don't show my face unless I must, and I've heard all the rumors concerning me there are to hear… I am my grandfather's ghost, I am his reincarnation, I am him and I never died to begin with. I am an imposter.
But none even touch on the truth. He died, and all I could do was stand by and let it happen. He left me alone.
I don't believe in ghosts, and I am not an imposter. The name is my birthright, and as a girl whose name no longer fits her, I have taken what is mine.
I have never avenged my grandfather's hurt pride, never taken down that one bounty that managed to escape him. That illustrious Methuselah. But that man is the only one who has lighted my way since Grandfather went away, so I think I owe it to him. That is why I am Rain Killer. Because I will be his Grim when the time finally comes. I won't leave him to suffer alone…
I threw myself over the edge, swinging my scythe and burying the blade in the rock. I slid down the cliff face in a shower of dust and pebbles, pushing away as I neared the bottom, landing easily at the town entrance. Everything was silent and empty, the expected tumble weeds rolling down the dry, cracked street. The only source of noise and life in the deserted town came from the single tavern, located in the center of town.
I twitched my cloak back into place and pulled the hood back over my head as I started towards it at an easy stroll, weapon of choice back on my shoulder, right where it belonged.
Noise ceased for a moment as my figure blocked the door, and light in the process. I've developed a knack for nifty entrances, just as I've developed an indifference to the stares I receive for them at the same time.
But still, the sight that met my eyes managed to surprise me.
Rain, thrown into a chair just as I entered, was draped over the battered piece, arms bound back with chains and a man's foot in the middle of his back, blood dripping from a cut on his temple and the corner of his mouth. Those eyes, that I had so often seen warm, stared at me with unveiled hostility, irises darkly rimmed. I crossed the room calmly, snagging a chair and swinging it in front of him, straddling it as I mirrored his position. He even flinched as I reached out and pressed a thumb to his freely bleeding lip, pulling it away to examine the red stain now marring my skin.
His eyes never left me. "What are you doing here," he rasped, as though his voice were unaccustomed to being used. The faintest flicker of emotion wafted through those empty eyes.
I stared at him coldly, face still shielded by my hood, and was unable to dredge up any emotion now that I could see him. "I could ask you the same," I answered. It had been too long. There had been too many deaths. A part of me had died in all this mess.
His eyes narrowed, and his tongue flicked out, running over the spot I had touched before he turned his head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood. He continued to stare at me, probably trying to reconcile the figure in front of him with the girl who had been left behind years before. "I've heard rumors."
The man holding him cut off his words, jerking back on his hair and pressing his foot more severely into his spine. He yanked on the chains, twisting them more painfully into Rain's wrists.
"This bounty's mine, girl," he sneered boastfully, in obnoxious over-confidence. "Get out of here and find yourself some dolls."
Rain growled, teeth bared in a snarl. His eyes cut to the side, dark outer ring drawing even more from their center, making the center iris nearly white. The man had no clue how close 'Methuselah' was to loosing all control.
You know, it really does take a large dose of courage to be a bounty hunter, to put your life on the line day after day, just for a few dollars, or a chance to take one more crazy criminal out of the general population, making it safer for everyone. That, or a very large dose of stupidity. This one looked like he had more than his share of the latter.
My heavy boots clunked as I tore my eyes away from Rain and stood with a shove against the chair back, putting my eyes on level with this poser. My cloak fell back over my shoulders, though the hood remained, showing that my scythe was no longer my only weapon. No… you had to be prepared, something amply demonstrated by the trio of knives and semi-automatic ranging around my hips. "You sure you want him? I've heard he's pretty dangerous." I smirked. "I could always take him off your hands for you."
Annoyance passed over his face. He probably didn't believe I knew how to use all of my arsenal. "Yeah? So what. I'm not givin' him up. Go ahead and make somethin' of it," he growled.
My scythe swung easily into the ready position. "Pleasurably," I said with a smile, but continued before he could laugh. "But, I'm assuming you know that this man is Methuselah. I'd imagine that you knew what he could do if you did. He could break your grip before you knew it. He could snap those chains, turn around, break your throat, and tear out your heart all with his bare hands, and all before you could blink or hit the ground."
I stepped over the chair and circled closer to them. Rain's eyes followed me like those of a caged animal. Tortured. Trapped. Beaten. Begging for release.
My poor Rain.
The man's face was tightening into cruel lines. Few cowards like to hear about the dangerous things they are dealing with, especially when they have them by the roots of their hair. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he snarled.
I ignored him, cupping Rain's cheek in my palm as I passed him. His animal eyes stared at me through his lank hair, and the tension strumming through his body jumped. If he moved, it would only be to hurt this man.
"He's unstable. He could snap at any moment," I continued, ignoring the man. I leaned my shoulder and placed my other hand on the other side of his face.
"Who would want a bounty like him, who's more likely to kill you than surrender peacefully, even if it resulted in his own death?" I paused. "Especially if it resulted in his own death." Rain's cheek twitched under my hand.
"Hey, get away from him," the man snapped, irrationality getting the best of him at this point. "I told you, this retch is mine!" A knife appeared in his hand, threatening me over Rain's shoulder before looking like it would plunge straight into Rain's throat as the man gave his hair another sharp yank.
Another snarl came from Rain as his eyes widened in anger, and he started to twist around to get this idiot.
But I beat him to it.
The butt of my scythe connected squarely with the man's chin, throwing him back and to the ground, but not before the sharp edge of his blade dragged across the side of Rain's neck.
Effortlessly I leaped, using only the chair to lever myself over Rain's shoulder.
"God damn it, you're crazy!" he spluttered, trying to stand and run away. I stepped on his chest, bringing the scythe tip down into he shoulder of his shirt.
I glared at him, pushing my hood back roughly. "You asked who I was," I growled. I yanked my hair aside, revealing a small 'z' shaped scar beneath the far end of my right eye, where a pair of overconfident bullies had thought to make a point.
The irony is that they only added to my prestige, because I can guarantee that they're both dead. I know, because not only was I there when they died, but I did it myself.
The man's eyes widened, and his struggling increased. Mumbling shot through the room, and a number of people started edging for the door.
"I'm Zol, you fool, the Rain Killer." I took my eyes off him and looked back at Rain. "This is my bounty." I released him, scythe falling to the ground with a clatter, voice cold. "I'm no ghost, I'm no imposter, and all the rumors you've heard are probably true. Now get out of my sight."
With some help from my foot, he scurried for the door, bolting as soon as he could get his feet under him. It wasn't as though the fool was alone in his flight now either. The few men that hadn't already disappeared from sight quickly followed suit as I swung my gaze over them.
But letting them go was easier than resisting the urge to extinguish his miserable life, so that's okay.
It's hard not to get bitter, to lose your warmth, in this world. It's so filled with corruption and dishonesty, with so many slimy individuals. How can you even attempt to hold on to innocence when you don't even know if your reason to live still exists? I doubt I've done well, but at least I've tried to hold onto the memory.
Rain sat frozen in his chair, head still held high, back ramrod straight, tension visibly strumming through muscles under his torn, bloodied shirt. He could have escaped from the situation at any moment, so why was he still sitting there?
Slowly, jerkily, his head turned as my footsteps approached him and I pressed the edge of my cloak to the wound on his neck.
"I'm sorry."
He didn't answer, staring at me out of the corners of his eyes, eyes that still appeared alien, hunted, haunted.
I slipped a lock pick from my belt and a moment later the chains clicked open, slithering to the ground as his arms fell limply to his side.
"What do you have to be sorry for," he finally asked.
I pulled away the cloak, to check the bleeding, but the wound had already knit itself back together. "Because I wasn't here." My heart clenched uncomfortably. "I'm your grim reaper, no one else." He knew that, didn't he?
"No." He shook his head, ignoring everything I said, eyes wild. "You've changed. You're different. Why."
I flashed a lopsided grin, reluctant to drop my hand from his neck despite the fact that there was no reason for it to remain there. "Well, it's been three years, Rain." He shivered at the sound of his name, eyes blinking shut for a moment before pinning me again. My already half hearted smile wilted. I guess it had been as long since he had heard his real name spoken kindly as it was for me. "It's been a hard three years."
He held my gaze for a second longer, and then looked away and down. "Then you should have given up."
Before I could help it I stepped forward and leaned down, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in his neck to hide the tears that pricked at the corner of my eyes. I pressed against his back, trying to absorb as much of his warmth as possibly, to thaw the empty spot he had left when he disappeared. "How could I, when I can't live without you."
He stiffened for a moment, but then leaned back into my body, relaxing and closing his eyes, seeming to take as much comfort from the contact as I was.
He half turned, pulling me into his lap, cradling me, holding me safe from the world. "I know, Machika, I know," he murmured, voice carrying a heavy enough burden to cause me to look up.
I reached up and touched his cheek, and eyes that had at some point closed opened, showing that they had returned to the heart-searing blue of a being who had seen and lost too much.
I gently pressed my lips to his. "It's okay, Rain. We found each other."
His expression quavered for a moment, struggling to remain composed, before cracking. Maybe his suffering in this world runs deeper than I can ever hope to understand, but I can't stand to see him standing under it's heavy waves alone. The tear he didn't shed trickled down my cheek instead, and a moment later one of his finally followed.
He swallowed hard, head dropping to my shoulder as his hands tightened around me. "I know…" he repeated, voice fading. I pressed a kiss to the side of his face, and then slipped from his lap.
His head jerked up, face etched with deep lines of pain and panic, hand automatically reaching out for me. I could read the words in his eyes. Don't leave me. I slipped an arm under his shoulders and helped him stand. "Don't worry, Rain. I'm not."
He wavered, unsteady on his feet, and then let me maneuver him from the tavern. I think he's entitled to a little trauma after the life he's had to lead.
As we settled down in a forest just outside of town, Rain clung to me like I was the last stable thing in the world. But, really, who am I to blame him when I was doing the same?
With each other, we were no longer alone, and could try to heal the wounds caused by the last three years. All it takes is a few tears, some shared words, and a caring heart to share it with. And who can care more than Methuselah, the man who has given us centuries of his life.
The least we can do is care in return.