Creed
Disclaimer: Black Lagoon and its characters © Rei Hiroe
CREED: PART I
Her memory was clouded in a stupor of alcohol.
What was this place called?
The valley of death? The land of the wicked? The devil's domain? Hell?
Ah, no. She remembered now.
Roanapur.
Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed by Thy name,
Lounging lazily underneath the crucifix, she downed another shot of rum, alone. Yolanda would never have approved of this behavior in the chapel. It was sin to desecrate such a holy place.
The blonde woman spat at the thought.
"Fuck you," she muttered, unsure of whether she was directing the words towards Yolanda or the Son mounted on the cross above her.
She drank another shot.
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.
What was she sent here for, again?
Oh, yes. "Monetary payments."
She remembered when she had accepted it casually, blissfully tossing aside any rumors she had heard about Roanapur being a vile place inhabited by the filth of the world. She had scoffed at the thought. She didn't believe a place like that could have ever existed.
She remembered a great shock that had racked her senses when she had discovered that she was wrong.
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses,
She mimicked the manners of those that resided there. It was vital to her performance. She wasn't a member of the Rip-Off Church. She wasn't a citizen of Roanapur. She wasn't one of the soulless bodies of the walking dead. She was an operative of the CIA masquerading as a damned nun.
The greed... The vanity... The bloodlust... It was an act. It was all just an act.
So she told herself.
as we forgive those who trespass against us,
Contempt had become a familiar feeling. She had no sympathy for the living dead. They were villains, hideous monsters whose souls were sacrificed to a demonic beast disguised as a city born in blood and shadows.
It worried her whenever she began to feel contempt for herself.
and lead us not into temptation,
A golden crucifix glowing in the darkness, she struggled to walk upright on a tightrope, acid running through her veins, her heart twisting and turning, threatening to rip itself out of her chest. There were no flames in sight and her skin was unmarked, yet her body was relentlessly tormented with the horrible sensation of burning. Eyes frantic, arms extended and fingers grasping desperately, she reached for the crucifix, her fingertips a hair's width away from touching the shimmering gold.
A noose coiled itself around her neck and ripped her away from the holy symbol, the tightrope transforming into a platform floating in the middle of a sea, a Buddha statue composed of gold and jewels coming into her vision as the crucifix hovered above, the dull glint of city lights in the distance.
The water around her was soon tinted a deep crimson. A massive wave of blood washed away the glorious riches of the Buddha, continually crashing into the figure until it turned into worthless, crumbling stone. The heavenly glow of the crucifix faded away, the gold giving way to severe cracks and shaking violently before it shattered into pieces, falling away into the darkness. The city in the distance began to dissipate into an ominous fog, forming a horrendous beast with seven heads and ten horns, reeking of sulfur and burnt flesh, a dark mist swirling around its gargantuan being. An atrocity displaying a grotesque hide ridden with cuts and sores, a malodorous mix of blood and puss poured from the wounds as mutilated corpses swam about in the open gashes that adorned the monster's flesh. The beast thrashed its heads about wildly, smoke filling the air with every roar, a toxic liquid pouring from its jaws. The beast spat at the Buddha statue, the acidic contents eating away at the eyes.
The beast turned its attention towards her, noting the soft blue glow of her eyes, sordid smiles gracing decayed, razor sharp teeth. A sudden feeling washed over her. Her knees began to bend, as if to kneel down. She immediately dug her nails into her knees to stop them from bending. No. She would not bow down to this terrible beast. She couldn't... She wouldn't...
The earth shook and the sea of blood raged violently as the beast released a frightening bellow of laughter, the devilish smile widening.
"Do not resist," a demonic voice echoed in her head, "You think you are dwelling in the twilight? Foolish whore, you no longer stand in the midst of day. You lie to yourself like you lie to those who serve as stepping stones for your avarice. Wretched cormorant! Your hands are soaked in the blood of those who fed your bloodlust and greed!"
Her body began to tremble, blood dripping from where her hands gripped her knees. Her mind remained defiant, determined not to show humility, but an invisible, vice-like grip was filling her heart with an overwhelming desire to surrender to this monster.
The beast opened its jaws, forked tongues twisting and winding out of its mouths as the toxic saliva dribbled into the sea of blood below.
"You are tainted," the voice went on, "You are damned. You have immersed yourself in the night. There is no hope for you. Revolting harlot, accept your fate! You are one of the walking dead!"
The beast released a mighty roar, flames bursting from its open mouths and dancing around the woman. Red stripes decorated her legs as her knees snapped away from her nails and slammed onto the surface of the platform. The sudden action caused her to fall to her arms, her forehead placed firmly against the platform, bowing before the beast.
Her teeth grinding in anguish, the noose around her neck began to tighten, irritating her skin and crushing her windpipe. Her hands gripped at the noose in an attempt to rip it off of her neck, but it only tightened further. The final ounce of strength left her and the noose sharply snapped her head back, forcing her to behold a slithering forked tongue and a massive set of razor sharp teeth dripping with venom before the beast devoured her whole.
She always awakened from the nightmare with a large exhale, literally taking her breath away. Shaken, she would immediately fumble out of bed and take several uneasy steps towards the nearest mirror. She would always examine her eyes, and there would always be a small glimmer of light. No worries. She still had a soul. She was not one of the monsters that inhabited the city.
After several shots of liquor, she was calm enough to go back to bed.
But before she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but think that the light was dimmer than it had previously been only hours before.
but deliver us from evil.
The "deal" between the Church and the CIA was done and over with. The monetary payments had fulfilled their price.
The winds whipping about at her golden hair and the gentle spray of the seawater against her skin, the ship sailed away from the valley of death.
She had been waiting for this moment for years. She was finally leaving. She could finally put all of this garbage behind her and move on.
Goodbye, filthy city. Goodbye, wicked land. Goodbye, Roanapur.
No longer did she have to dwell in the world of villains. No longer did she have to play the role of a damned nun. Yet she could not bring herself to take off the magenta shades, nor she could stand to look at the rising sun in the distance.
The twilight had passed, and the dawn had failed to hold her interest.