I am fairly certain that I do not own Kingdom Hearts. If I do, then please tell me.
Hello all! I know, I know, "Tora, get back to your Star Wars fic! Shame on you!" Yes. Shame on me. It's coming along, slowly, but recently I've been having...issues...and my writing of the next chapter has been delayed. I sincerely apologize, and hope to finish the rough draft for the next chapter soon. (if you haven't read my Star Wars fic though, I would like to recommend it to you! [shameless self-advertising ;) ] The Wings of Butterflies chpt. 9 will be the next thing I post! I promise!)
This story was actually a creative writing project (still waiting for my mark in it, I'm terrified!) that doubled as a test run for another type of fanfic, and I feel like it happened to work, so here we are! I give Marjorie Franklin full credit for the initial inspiration, which came from The Dark Rule (I would definitely recommend checking it out if you haven't yet, the setting is wonderful and the characterization is beautiful). I would like to thank said writer sincerely for that *bows*. And as for what specifically inspired me...well, you will have to find out! :D
I do not know if this is going to be more than a one-shot, because of how I am currently focusing on trying to complete The Wings of Butterflies (no matter how long it takes me). Would you guys please tell me if you think I should continue? (by the way, I know for a fact that the summary sucks, but I literally cannot think of a good summary for this story! SOMEBODY HELP ME! ...please).
This is going to be an Assassin's Creed-esque AU, although I'm going to do my best to not draw from it (or The Dark Rule) too much should I continue writing this story.
On we go!
Lose control
Increasing pace
Warped and bewitched
And time to erase
Whatever they say
These people are torn
Wild and bereft
Assassin is born
― 'Assassin', Muse
Target located.
The target, Shayna Crawley, 30 years old next June; 124 pounds, 5 feet and 7 inches. A slight but distinctive creasing around the eyes spoke of Eastern ancestry, likely several generations back, and the skin tint, a light dusting of cocoa over her otherwise cream-like complexion, alluded to a primarily Western family. Thin dirty blonde hair just brushing past her shoulders was held back by a black headband, keeping it out of way of physical movement. Black running pants ending just above the ankles, a dark green long sleeved shirt and a small pack strapped across her back completed the look of an autumn stroller weaving her way through the sleepy Monday morning crowds. Her gait was an easy one, loose-limbed and fluid, hinting at an athletic background. No scars, covered or otherwise, marred her features, leaving the impression that she led a relatively uneventful and danger-free life.
She was plain, normal, regular; any adjective for unnoticeable. At first glance, one would never believe that the woman had broken into a previously-thought-secure safe house on her own and then vanished with valuable objects after having killed or severely injured any who had tried to stand in her way.
Preparing to engage.
A hooded figure slid out from the shadow cast by a third storey, flowing across the roof above and slightly behind where Shayna Crawley was walking sedately towards a traffic light. It kept to the edge, shying away whenever its target glanced up with feigned disinterested eyes, using the motions of checking on the swiftly moving rain clouds to scan surrounding buildings. Dark blue clothes made no sound as their owner crept after the woman.
The target made a left turn across the crosswalk, the opposite side that her hunter was hovering over. Their focus was not broken though, and within seconds a blue flash heralded the figure's arrival onto the rooftop on the other side, their single minded pursuit no slower than before.
As the sky continued to darken, light grey gatherings of cotton condensing into a thick ceiling of tangible shadows, Shayna Crawley continued to walk through rapidly thinning crowds of people and her rooftop follower determinedly stalking her every step, until the hunted turned left once more into a narrow alley. Both hunter and prey slowed their movements, prey appearing to be fascinated by the graffitied surfaces on either side of her, and hunter's eyes beginning to roam over the surroundings.
The hood moved left to right, checking for any possible interferences while its body tensed up in preparation to leap. A left wrist tilted back, a flash of sharp steel gliding upwards along its hand and quietly click!-ing into place.
Engaging.
"I know you're there, stalker." The sound of the soon-to-be-dead woman's voice 一 a typical dialect for the area, distinctly slurred consonants and a frequently changing pitch, likely not target's native accent 一 caused the discovered killer to freeze marginally, and the blade slid back into its sheath, "Come down so that I can meet my would-be killer."
Legs straightened and, without pause, walked straight forward. A blue shadow landed before Shayna Crawley, crouched, and then rose, poised and prepared for a fight.
It was shorter than Crawley by just under an inch, with all other identifying characteristics hidden from view. Its outfit, a combination of a hooded plain sweater, baggy pants and knee length boots, covered most of its body, with the little skin left unconcealed cast in shadow by the large hood and dying light. The clothing was loose, revealing nothing about the shadow's body aside from the height, and for the most part unremarkable, allowing the wearer to blend into a crowd with ease.
Shayna Crawley was standing confidently in comparison to the person in front of her; both of her hands were on her hips, one of which she was leaning on more than the other, not looking in anyway as if she was in danger. Eyes 一 light brown, no particularly unusual or unique features about them 一 scanned her stalker's form. An eyebrow 一 same colour as her hair, no evidence of having been dyed 一 cocked, "I was not aware that I was so important that they would send the Founder's prize student after me."
Her words received no verbal response as a gloved right hand reached into a leg pocket all but indistinguishable from the rest of the fabric. The hand grasped the hilt of a stylized blue handle and drew a silver knife the length of the blue figure's forearm. It was a beautiful weapon, its design elegant and straight with wickedly sharp edges and blue engravings covering the length of it. The metal was untarnished, with no scratches or dents that would tell of any use; there was no sign of aging, no tell-tale indications of wear and tear, every bit speaking of care and perfection. After carefully fingering the handle in what appeared to be a pre-fight ritual, the shadow's arm moved back, precious knife held to the side and a little behind in an obviously practised stance.
Crawley whistled at the sight of the blade, "The infamous Rainfell, I must be dangerous if that was brought to kill me!" A look of admiration came over her face as she contemplated the weapon, "I was half-convinced that it was just a myth, some scary legend like King Arthur's Excalibur to make you all the more intimidating. But for once, I am happy to be wrong; it's a lovely looking thing to kill someone with. And so well taken care of too."
She looked up at Rainfell's wielder when only silence answered her, every feature displaying a clear challenge, "You know, they call you Rain. A bit of poetic nonsense like 'washing away all the sadness' and 'always the first sign of a storm'. Granted, there is also the factor of your preferred colour," she gestured to the blue apparel on Rain and continued, "...and your super secret talents of course."
A low rumble reverberated through the air, the clouds above announcing the coming weather, and Crawley laughed, "And so begins a storm! Did you plan for this to happen, waiting until this exact time to appear? Or is storm-calling another of your particular skills?"
"You appear to enjoy talking," another woman's voice, a clear alto with a similar accent to Crawley's, came from the hood, and Crawley smirked.
"Aah, my apologies, it's not everyday that I get to meet Rain and her Rainfell...it gets me all emotional, you see; I feel like I'm going to cry." A glint entered her eyes, "It always was a small dream of mine to test myself against you; Rain, the usher of guaranteed defeat to all opposition since before she hit puberty. And when I kill you, I get your beautiful tool of murder!"
That was the only warning Rain had before Crawley suddenly spun, a silver spike leaving her hand and flashing through the air towards her. Rain swept up her left hand, the smaller blade coming out of her coat sleeve to deflect it, and rushed forwards. She stabbed, the sharpened point of Rainfell aiming straight for her opponent's chest. A matching wrist blade 一 likely stolen during her solo assault 一 that had been concealed by Crawley's long sleeves came up to push her attack to the side, whilst another one thrust up at Rain's neck. Rain yanked her head back, narrowly avoiding the sharp point. She threw herself backwards, dodging another strike, and lashed out with her left hand, catching Crawley's arm and slicing partly through the muscle when she overextended herself.
Instead of faltering, Crawley just laughed, a vicious grin covering her face, and attacked with renewed vigour. Arm, knee, head, knee, neck, Rain ducked and swept a leg out, forcing Crawley to hop back a few paces and giving her breathing room. This did not deter Crawley, and she all but leapt forwards again with a bloodthirsty smile, coming back into close range where her short blades had an advantage over the larger Rainfell. It did not take long for Crawley to create an opening 一 kick, chest, elbow, arm, left hand, upper thigh, headbutt, both arms, right elbow, high kick, neck, hook, shoulder, left hand, chest 一 and exploit it, slamming her shoe down on Rain's foot and then using the momentary distraction to aim a blade at Rain's face, nicking her right cheek and tearing her hood.
Rain stumbled back, limping on one foot, the torn hood now displaying some of her hair, a stark contrast to Crawley's with its thick and polished ebony. The wince when she put pressure on the injury was obvious despite how the hood still cast most of her features in shadow and Crawley scoffed, "Come now, I thought that you were this big shot killing machine; undefeated no matter who faced you, no matter who you had to kill. Don't tell me that was all a lie," she finished with an obviously fake disappointed pout, her eyes openly mocking her losing opponent.
Rain reached up to touch her cheek and when she lowered it, it came away covered in blood. She used her sleeve to wipe away some of the blood, smearing the fabric with red and dying it a shade of purple-ish brown. As her arm came back down again and she shifted into an attack stance, her demeanour changed; her body leant forward, her knees bent, and her feet spread, left foot in front and pointing at the derisive woman, right foot behind and turned right. Rain breathed out and a white mist began to circle around her head. Her knife glistened, the light refracting off of it suddenly sharper.
Crawley noted the change and prepared herself, bringing both her arms up for easy defense.
Rain charged, suddenly faster despite her injured foot, sweeping Rainfell in a sideways arc. At the same time, her left wrist blade shot out, attacking her opposite side and aiming downwards for either a thigh or abdomen shot. Crawley swung, knocking both of the weapons to the sides, leaving herself open. Rain did not falter, and brought her knee up, ramming it into her opponent's chest. She did not give Crawley time to recover, tackling the other woman in the time it took her to gasp from the hit and throwing her to the ground. Her leg drew back for kick after kick, keeping Crawley down.
Rain crouched over the fallen female, and it was only thanks to a desperate and wild punch that Crawley managed to avoid being impaled through the neck. Frantically, she shoved the other off of her and scrambled to her feet. She stumbled down the alleyway, suddenly desperate to put some distance between her and the now terrifying hooded figure.
Rain rose to her feet, her injury apparently forgotten, "Do you still think that they were lying?"
Crawley forced a laugh, clearly caught off guard by the change to the person in front of her, even as she quickly recovered her composure, "So, I am right!"
Rain began stalking forward and Crawley carefully backed away, an excited look starting to take over her features, "Not interested."
Crawley ignored her brush off and continued, her right hand reaching behind her back, "You really are her, aren't you?"
Booted feet faltered and Rain stilled. The mist around her shimmered, and glistening particles began to gather together.
Crawley began to cackle at the telling response, her glee obvious, "You are! The lost child! What are the odds?" She brought out the gun from behind her back and pointed it at the blue-clad Thanatos in front of her, "Now imagine what would happen if they knew."
Rain's jaw visibly clenched and the hand holding Rainfell shuddered faintly. The crystallizing air began shaking violently, cracking and contorting. Another rumble shook through the blue-grey clouds and the sound of rain hitting the roof-tiles started whispering a soft melody, both ignored by the two in the alley.
Caution fading and confidence growing, Crawley stopped her slow retreat, keeping her last resort gun aimed directly at her head and her left wrist blade sliding out. "You know," she said conversationally, "I was there. That night," her head was jerked back from the force of her laughter. "The night that was bathed in blood. That was where I gained my… taste for killing. An innocent girl, just passing by. Someone tried to kill me, I killed them back."
The finger on the trigger twitched, "I suppose I have to thank you and your family. If you guys hadn't pissed off those people, then I would have never found my true calling."
The ice crystals' shaking ground to a halt, hanging in the air as if suspended by strings as they began fracturing into fine dust. Crawley's gaze flickered to them minutely before moving back to the frozen figure in front of her, "That truly is an interesting talent. It's a shame that it's only passed down through certain bloodlines."
A wrist stiffened and lashed out, its weapon catching the other arm and tearing through flesh and bone before lodging itself firmly inside of what was left of it. In the same moment, the ice daggers, sharpened into fine points, shot forward, embedding themselves deep inside any body parts that were in their path.
Crawley hissed, tears forming and streaming down her face from the intense pain. Her hand slackened and the gun dropped from her limp fingers, their nerves severed clean through. She stumbled back, legs no longer working with the bloody gashes dug into them, and fell, landing awkwardly and curling up as best she could with the numerous slash and stab wounds now covering her body. Rain stood over her, the reaper dressed in blue, Rainfell held clenched in her no-longer trembling hand, a smear of blood marking where it had bit through skin to cut into bone.
Despite the obvious agony, Crawley smiled, "Looks like they weren't lying," she muttered, responding to Rain's question from before. "Well, there are worse ways to go, could've been done in by that thug after all."
Rain was silent and unpitying as she looked at the dying woman at her feet. No words were spoken by her as she leaned down and pushed her blade through Crawley's throat, ending her life decisively.
Target eliminated.
A small gasp escaped the severed throat and Shayna Crawley used the last of her strength to grin and whisper, "Forget 'Rain', you're more like a Death God." Brown eyes dulled, their manic light winking out, shuddering arms and stiff legs going limp, the dead's last smirk remaining plastered to her slack face. Rain stood, lifting the dead body over her right shoulder. She turned to begin climbing back to the roof, and dropped to the ground, snatching a gleaming flash out of the air from where her head was.
There was a figure 一 tall, approximately 6 feet in height, muscles obvious despite baggy quality of outfit 一 in dark colours 一 black with brown linings 一 standing farther down the alleyway, behind where Rain had been facing the now dead target on her shoulder, parodying her earlier position. It was clad in an outfit similar to Rain's in design 一 likely also chosen for ability to conceal wearer 一 the fabric nearly invisible in the dim lighting. Its body language 一 feet about four fifths its shoulder width apart, both arms relaxed by its sides, head tilted approximately 25 degrees to its right, no threatening posture displayed 一 implied supposed innocence from any relationship with the projectile. Supposed innocence that was immediately negated by the matching dark grey knife clearly displayed in its right hand.
Rain did not visibly tense, refusing to show any apprehension over the obvious difficulty of the situation she found herself in. Should she attempt to run, the figure would follow through on its unspoken threat to attack, and burdened as she was by her target's body, her chances of successfully escaping were severely limited. Should she make a stand, her new opponent would have an obvious advantage compared to her with her injuries, few as they were, and the need to ensure that the dead body on her shoulder remained with her. Should she choose to leave Crawley's body behind, the figure could possibly gain invaluable information from the corpse, along with whatever other stolen objects Crawley had had in her possession. All three options were unacceptable, their odds of failure vastly outweighing those of success. Rain was caught between the Scylla and the Charybdis with a flock of Stymphalian birds and harpies combined flocking overhead.
She turned slightly to face her black counterpart, angling her body to hide the rip in her hood. Its satisfaction was obvious despite Rain being unable to see its face, condescending amusement permeating the air. Rain's hand, concealed by its position between her head and her load, clenched.
The rain had been pouring steadily, spreading wet stains across all surfaces and filling the otherwise silent standoff with a gentle rhythm, Rain's small movement sparked an almost immediate change. The soft tapping crescendoed into a low roar, newly formed hailstones joining the water pelting from the skies towards the larger figure. The black hood looked up, confused and momentarily distracted by the sudden addition of solid ice attacking it, and Rain struck, stolen knife streaking through the air back towards its owner.
The hooded person was lucky, just managing to avoid a lethal strike to the neck by blocking with its forearm, the knife driving through the muscle with enough force to remain stubbornly embedded in flesh. But by the time it had recovered from the hit, Rain had made her escape, black boot disappearing over the roof's edge.
It was a wooden door, one typically found in an old country home, its oak solid, sturdy, and thick enough to have been used to stop a siege. The stones serving as the shell of the house were large and rough, their grey surfaces placed haphazardly and held together by liberal amounts of plaster. There was no immediate response to Rain's gentle knocks, and she stood in the depleting drizzle for several minutes before the door opened partially, just enough to allow her and her dead target to quickly side-step through. She entered the small room behind the door and then walked down the narrow hallway, a subtle limp in her steps, to a stark living room.
The room was larger than the outside appearance of the house implied and looked only partially moved into, metal chairs strewn all throughout it and curtains tightly closed, the only light source being the single lamp in the corner.
The girl who opened the door had followed Rain, large blue eyes peering up at the woman who was twice her height. They flitted to the body carried on a bloodstained shoulder and she whispered, her little voice quiet as if terrified that Crawley might rise from the dead at the slightest sound, "Is that her?"
A smile flickered over what could be seen of Rain's face and her free hand reached down to ruffle blonde hair, "She can't hurt you now."
The child's face burst into a smile that rivalled the sunniness of her hair and she lunged at Rain, tiny arms just barely managing to fully wrap around the blue-clad legs.
"Namine, are you bothering Rain?" an older and male version of the little girl walked up to the two, strolling into the meeting with an easy grace gained from countless hours of physical conditioning.
Rain repeated her earlier motion with Namine on her brother's head, "It's fine, Ven. Is the area set up?"
The boy shot an annoyed glance with little heat at the woman messing up his already bedhead styled hairdo, "Of course it is! Who do you take me for?"
"Nobody but yourself," the girl who said this was the same height as Ventus, her short dark hair and darker eyes contrasting her siblings' daytime with that of night, punching the boy not-so-gently as she passed by to check over the newcomer.
The boy shoved at her in retaliation, "Shut up, Xion."
"Just doing my older twin duty, Sunshine. Welcome back, Rain. Injuries?" Xion frowned at the obvious rip in Rain's hood and tugged on it. Prodding fingers brushed over the new cut, their owner tsk-ing as they came away streaked with blood.
"Nothing serious. Was there trouble?" Rain brushed off the worry, redirecting the conversation with practiced ease.
Both twins shot her looks that were carbon copies of each other, their right eyebrows rising simultaneously and mouths set as sternly as two fifteen-year-olds could manage, sending a decidedly unimpressed visual message saying 'We know what you're doing, and you can't fool us.'
When Rain did not give way to their stares, Xion sighed and shook her head with an air of resignation, "The move was easy. The others are out checking over the area. Do you want to wait for them, or do the burial now?"
"Now would be best."
Rain laid Shayna Crawley's corpse down in the dirt and climbed out of the small pit to where the three siblings were waiting with shovels in their hands. After the eldest of the four took a shovel from the smallest, they formed a semicircle around the grave, Rain standing in the center.
"May all that troubled you in this world leave you behind in the next," Rain bowed to the body, the others following suit. "And may your sacrifice mean something to our cause."
Four shovels dug into the churned earth, and began the tedious task of burying the remains. No words were spoken, even the youngest having long since grown past the need to fill the morbid quiet with chatter, and the minutes quickly passed as dirt claimed its place over the dead woman.
Rain was the one to place the last of soil, the sun having begun its descent when her shovel fell for the last time. Ventus wiped the sweat from his brow and took his sisters' shovels while Xion picked up Namine, the child exhausted from the work.
They walked back towards the cottage, the blonde girl's hand clutching the unbloodied fabric on Rain's shoulder, "How long are you staying before you are sent out again?"
"I need to go out temporarily tonight. I will be back within a few hours."
"Oh," tiny fingers fisted tighter before letting go, moving up to stroke what she could reach of the tear in her hood, "Will it be dangerous?"
"No."
"Okay."
The window was large, easily the length of the desk set against it. Twilight had set in, hues of purple dappling the mansion and trees in the yard, and the desk lamp was turned on, yellow and indigo light dying dark red hair an orange tinted shade of brown as its owner bent over the desk.
Fingers twitched, and frost began covering the window, an abstract pattern scrawling itself across the glass.
The head shot up, and dark blue eyes widened at the sight before them. A pale hand gently touched the frost, and then pressed harder as the pattern spread into the image of a matching hand. A smile, bright and shining, came over her face, and the teenager clambered onto her desk, edging as close as possible to the barrier between her and the outside. An arrow formed, pointing left and down towards a spot in the treeline, and the girl's head whipped towards the shadow just barely visible.
She waved, excitement making itself known through the exuberant gesture, and ice wrote 'Hello' in response. Exaggerated motions were made, implying 'How are you?' and a glistening 'Alive' appeared under the previous word.
The grin fell, petulance and worry taking its place. She bit her lip, and furtively looked over the area, checking for anybody watching the exchange. Eyes narrowed in concentration, staring at the air to the right of the blue person. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she let out a noise of satisfaction at the sight of a heart burning itself into the space.
The person leapt back when the symbol appeared, disappearing easily into the darkness of the trees, obviously prepared to run or attack. Then they noticed the guilty look forming on the redhead's face and connected two and two together. They walked back out, hood shaking back and forth pointedly. Their right hand raised and drew a shape in the air, frost copying the action to create a sparkling heart out of ice beside the frosted hand to match the one in fire.
The forgiven girl mouthed 'Sorry!' and mimed pulling down a hood, every one of her features doing their best to channel puppies.
It was the figure's turn to ensure that there was no one in the vicinity to see, its hidden eyes scanning every possible direction with meticulous precision. Privacy ascertained, hands reached up to its cover, and pulled it down.
Matching pairs of eyes stared at each other, the younger of the two carefully checking over the delicate features that they both shared. Glossy jet black hair had been cut shorter since the last time she had seen it, dark wisps ghosting around her neck, and a scratch that looked as if it would scar had been cut into the right side of her face, straight across her cheekbone and into her hair. Ivory skin had paled into porcelain, her face more haggard and drawn than before, the older woman looking more phantom than human in the dying light. The smile on her face as she looked up to the window was gentle however, like every other smile that the girl could remember being given from her.
The right glove lifted to press against her mouth, and then its palm turned towards the window. 'I love you,' her lips moved to say.
The redhead eagerly copied her actions, labouriously tracing another heart into the air beside its twin.
There was one last look, the same one she always parted with, the look that said 'Don't worry, no matter what, I will protect you,' and ebony hair was covered again as Rain vanished, the frozen pictures and words on the glass evaporating into nothing.
Her hands slowed in their goodbye waves and dropped back into her lap, the flames she had worked so hard to create fading away into nothing. Tears were determinedly held back, her mouthed words unseen and unheard, 'Please stay.'
So, originally, I had used other names for these characters (Namine was Lily, Ventus was Aiden, Xion was Alex, and so on), and I was honestly kind of tempted to continue to use those names. But in the end, it is a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, and I guess I'm going to continue using the canon names (even though I will admit to really liking the names I had already picked out).
The funny thing is, I actually feel more comfortable with this style of writing than I do with the one that I am using to write The Wings of Butterflies, so there's a good chance that the writing style will start changing come the next chapter.
Shayna Crawley is an OC, the first one I've ever actually tried to create. Could you guys please tell me if I did well with her?
So, what did you guys think? Continue, leave it be? I'm considering putting a poll up after I finish up chpt. 9 of my other story for that...
How did I do? What were the good things, what were the bad things? Is there anything that you guys would like to see in here should I continue writing this story?
Reviews help me improve as a writer, so please drop one!
Well, have a nice night/day (whatever time you are reading this)!
