Authors note: Okay so this is just a prologue and the rest is probably going to take a while. Other than that I am working on Trauma. It'll be different from how it was originally planned since I lost the rough draft of that story. But I will continue it. Also I may not continue diary entries for a while but I am working on three fics together so maybe I can get excused for it. That is all. –Gamy
Disclaimer: I do not own Black Lagoon but I do own the twisted plots I come up with.
Chaos Theory
Prologue
He didn't know what to think. As he looked at her right now, he couldn't think or speak. He had joined the crew three years back, naive and terrified...but definitely not innocent. He had never been innocent. He'd been as she'd put it 'a pussy'. Over the last two years he'd learnt a lot. A bit too much if one asked him. He knew he wasn't the same naive pacifist. He was no longer Rokuro Okajima.
He didn't know a lot but he did know enough about the dead who walked the city of sin. He could read them now; within moments he knew them enough; just enough. And he'd read everyone, even her. In fact she'd been the first one he had tried to understand. And after so long he finally had her figured out. He could predict her every move, she was no longer a mystery, and he had figured the broken woman for what she was. And now, now everything was falling apart. Dutch was gone, so was Benny, the Queen had fallen; driven by her greed for power, the dead were silent as they were meant to be. The city of Sin; Roanapur was silent.
Just moments ago there had been chaos, the screams of the dying had filled the air, accompanied with loud explosions as the city fell to its doom. But now all was silent. The smell of the burning bodies assaulted his senses, the dust and smoke hadn't settled yet; the red and gold flames contrasted with the grey of the city and still oddly complimented it. The flames stretched high, its tendrils reaching out to swallow everything. And amongst the ruins of the unholy city, stood the 'Angel of Death' herself. True to her name she looked upon the ruins with a childlike glee. Her distant golden gaze glittered with a madness that chilled him to the core, the broken smile not quite reaching her eyes. Her childish laughter filled the air, creating a jarring contrast to the destruction surrounding them. His heart broke; it bled for the little girl. But no matter how much he wished to save the child he knew she was too far gone.
'You are just a coward' her voice spoke to him. He knew it was the truth, even if he ignored the fact that she never did say the words, he ignored his fear at the realization that right now amongst the ruins and flames the auburn haired beauty reminded him of the Devil, he ignored the voice that screamed at him, accusing him for what he had made out of this broken woman...this girl he might have cared for. He ignored the fact that he had never touched a gun. Rebecca was dead...he hoped she was at least. He raised the cutlass, as she had affectionately dubbed the weapon, lining it up with the red of her hair. He wondered if the blood would make it darker. He closed his eyes, blinking away the tears that weren't there and when he opened them she smiled at him, he couldn't tell how but she recognized him
''Did you see Rock? Daddy said he's proud of me.''
He pulled the trigger.
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