The memory of that day had been imprinted on the very essence of her mind. It was a scar burnt into her thoughts, as were many other before. Some of them already faded and forgotten, just like the countless marks marring her small body. As unsightly as they were, she carried them and their memory with pride, as a lasting trophy of all these battles that she had fought over time and a silent reminder of what was lost and what was carried on.

The last one, however, was vivid and fresh.

The heat of that day was still blistering her skin. The rays of the sun burnt down on the concrete and the hot breeze tinged the air with the thick scent of gunpowder, blood, and burnt flesh. It was an ordeal in itself to even breathe properly but between the taste of falling ash and copper, there was a spark of pleasure and foreboding delight.

The gunshots rang out to the left and to the right of her and the shivering, scared people fell to the ground as if someone cut their strings. The armed soldiers moved closer, reloaded and continued. A bullet grazed her cheek, the blood crawled slowly over her skin and dripped from her chin.

She held up her hands, back turned to the wall and held up her hands to signalize defeat. The wide, ripped sleeves dropped to her elbows, revealing the thin, almost cadaverous arms beneath.

One of them moved closer, a cruelly amused smile on his lips.

She didn't give him the satisfaction of a scream as he pulled on her messy short blue hair and hauled her to the ground. On her knees, she still held her arms up, only to be greeted by the barrel of a gun. She could feel the warm metal connecting with her jaw and the tremor the hit sent through her body.

The taste of copper was filling her mouth and she could see a couple of stars in her vision. She moved it to check if something was broken. The young woman glanced up, just to see in the black hole of the weapon.

Their intent was clear.

On this day, no prisoners would be taken.

She felt a smile curving up her lips in silent mockery at her executor. He hit her again in response but it earned him nothing more than a chuckle.

There would be no prisoners on either side, then.

Her arms dropped and something behind her assailant began to stir.

Suddenly the farthest soldier's head was tilted back and something flickered in the sunlight. A gush of warm blood sprayed on the ground, accompanied by a gurgling sound. He fell to his knees and dropped his weapon in a pitiful attempt to stop the liquid escaping his body with both hands.

His comrades looked confused at first, unable to do think or to react, not until the second met the same fate. Their leader turned back to her, bewildered by this sudden turn of events. He barked orders but in the midst of the chaos that ensued, this voice was lost in the screams and ringing gunshots.

In his moment of distraction, she stood up again, a golden cross falling out of her torn shirt and smiling as he watched his whole team being massacred by an enemy he could barely see in the whirling dust and ash.

He brandished his gun towards her again as this action would accomplish to turn the tides in his favor again.

It was so frighteningly simple. It was too easy, too unimpressive for her taste.

A knife found its way to his hand, another in his right thigh. He could just gasp in surprise as her left foot caught his waist, sending him to the ground. The gun fell out of his hand and tumbled out of his reach. Cold, green eyes looked down at him as he tried to crawl away from her.

With a simple gesture of her, gloved, dark hands grabbed him and prevented him from moving. His face was pushed into the dirt and his hands secured behind his back. A couple of hooded figures in the whirling dust looked at her, waiting for an order.

It was almost pitiful to see such a proud man like this but the punishment was far from over. Too many sins, too many crimes, and too many deaths had happened by his hand and she would make sure, that he would be reminded of each and one of them.

As he started to spit swear words at her, she placed a finger on her split up lips.

Suddenly he stopped moving, something loudly cracked and she smiled almost delighted at his surprised expression. Then he seemed to realize what just happened as he saw his right arm dangling limply from his side, useless and twisted in an unnatural angle.

He started to scream in agony, in fear, and in surprise. She bowed down to him, taking his tear stricken face softly into her hands.

"Pay what is due, sinner." She whispered into his ear.

His voice cracked multiple times as he tried to speak. "W…W-who are…you?"

She smiled sweetly, rubbing his bloodstained, sweaty cheeks with her thumbs. An almost loving gesture by the one who was going to be his undoing but she wanted to drag this game out a little bit longer. But alas and luckily for him, she didn't have the time.

"I have many names but unfortunately for you, death is not one of them."

The young woman let him go and he was dragged away, the screams drowning out in the distance and swallowed up by the crackling fire. Dozens of corpses were littering the ground, some of them fighting for their life in these last antagonizing moments.

Life was so quickly extinguished and yet it took so long.

"Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem sempiternam." Multiple voices whispered and she repeated it, kissing her cross in silent prayer.

This had turned into a display of useless carnage as this battle that was already lost. It was a truly pitiful, almost laughable display. But that was exactly that, what people do when they are driven into a corner: Clawing against the walls, against each other and abandon all modesty and morals in a desperate last attempt to save something which was ultimately in vain. They couldn't leave this hell as one step outside this hell would lead directly into another.

Outside these broken walls and the immortal creatures which were waiting in this world would rip the brave fool apart. The raging Gods, they called them. Unbeatable, unkillable, immortal and always hungry.

It was such a strange world, filled with so much death and destruction, which still was struggling for survival like a drowning human struggled for breath. This struggle was an endearing process to watch as mankind still refused to disappear and despite the odds, fought its way back up again.

A game with a clear winner would be a boring ordeal after all. The rush of ecstasy came with beating the odds stacked against oneself.

The voices became louder and she could feel the excitement rising with each heart beat as insanity knocked at the door to her mind.

In the end, there was nothing more exciting than dancing with death in its most primal and cruel form.

"Come and join us." The voices beckoned her and she smiled. There was nowhere to go than just forward into the unforeseen future and probably her own demise. It didn't matter since this insanity was beyond reason and explanation. When she had to die then she would indulge herself into this bloodcurdling scene.

She stepped forward into the flames, letting the smell of carnage engulf her being as a smile formed on her bloody lips.


Instead of death, another new scar was added to her collection which dug itself deeper with each passing day. The memory would fade, she knew that, but the scar would stay like they always did. They captured her, they let her alive, even though she had killed and maimed so many.

But they didn't know what she had done and probably never would. In their eyes, she was probably just a young individual caught up in this madness and this was some pitiful attempt to ease their conscience. Her hand touched the cold glass as she watched the sun dawn over the horizon and disappear behind mighty walls that sheltered the humans from the threat of the outside.

One of the last bastions of humanity, they called it and named it after the wolf who devoured gods. Somehow it made her smirk. Humanity's haughtiness was seemingly harder to kill than most of humanity itself.

The scar began to itch at the sight but she kept watching, arms crossed tightly before her chest. She heard steps coming from behind and she turned around, seeing a tall male with a white coat. He was well dressed, his blonde hair was neatly combed back albeit a couple of strains hung in his face.

"Then I looked and saw a pale horse. Its rider's name was Death, and Hades followed close behind." The voices whispered again and she couldn't help but smile. The mental note that death had swapped his horse for a fancy coat was an amusing thought as was the picture of him riding on one of this animals. It was certainly something that would suit this kind of proud man.

Her green eyes followed his movement.

"You have recovered well." His deep voice resounded in the room.

"…I always do." She answered, glancing at him shortly. "I have got the devil's luck, so to speak."

"Indeed. Did you think about my offer?"

The young woman was silent at first and just looked at him. A familiar feeling called for her attention as their eyes met and she had noticed it a couple of times already. It made her blood boil in her veins and her scars itch to an almost unbearable degree. She knew that kind of person all too well but she kept herself under control.

"Director Schicksal," She started, letting his strange name roll over her tongue. "What you are planning to do is a dangerous game to play."

"Sometimes, high risks must be taken." The director answered swiftly and without hesitation or a hint of expression on his face and it made her eyes narrow ever so slightly to not give away the impression that she had grown suspicious of his intentions. It was just playing the usual game for her and probably for him too.

It was a conversation with hypocritical politeness, just to appear civilized. In reality, she had no choice other than this or death and both were aware of it.

What he needed a willing test object and she would be providing her body.

When he needed a soldier, she would offer him her expertise.

In the end, she agreed to his terms and as he left, something in the deep of her green glass-like eyes moved.

"Oh pater noster, ne nos inducas in tentatione." She whispered. "I smell a sinner…" The woman chuckled and looked bemused. "…How pitiful. So desperate."

The scars on her body itched and asked for release but she ushered the thoughts out of her head.

It seemed like she was going to dance with death again.

And the devil began to smile as the golden cross glimmered in the dying of the light.