Rose amongst the thorns
Chapter Two
It took about a minute to reach their intended destination – a mansion enclosed by a forest and a lake. Much like the institution.
Amaya clear her head of such thoughts, she was, in fact, dead. And it amazed her with what superior calmness she accepted this. Botan seem to jump off the oar as soon as it came to a halt, and she quickly made her way to a door they had stopped in front. Amaya figured she didn't like the markings on her, because she realized none of the others had them.
She got the markings on her face when she was five, and she lost her childbearing gift when she was seven. After that she got numerous other markings for her devotion and her numerous successes.
She waited calmly with her hands clasped in front of her as the girl explain in stutters who and what the 'um, girl' behind her was. The ogre had listened and stupidly shifted his gaze from one person to Amaya, and then another person and back to Amaya. He then left, slamming the door shut in Botan's face.
Amaya didn't feel anger, annoyance or fear, and she concluded that this was how inner serene was suppose to feel like. She listened to Kurama and the others' speculation about why she didn't retrieve her normal form after death, and black-jelled concluded that it was the same thing that had happened to him. But he added that he saved someone's life, and that she was going to possibly end theirs, so he still didn't understand.
When the ogre returned, he beckoned them in like a four-year-old would. She didn't followed Botan, so black-jelled and fire fiend walked in, but Kurama was the one to urge her inside. She followed them, and she wasn't surprised to see a toddler behind a desk. If what happened to her after death was possible, she would believe it if someone told her that disco still lived. Wait, where does that comparison come from? She didn't even know what disco was, except that it was a certain style.
The toddler looked irritated at black-jelled, frowned at fire fiend, and he screamed and threw the stack of papers, which were in his hands, about when he saw Amaya. Paper rained over him and his pacifier fell onto his desk and drool sloshed onto some papers. Amaya didn't like the sound, but her body couldn't shiver.
"What…what in the–" his squeaky voice bellowed as he stood up in his chair, probably wanting more authority, but the pillow which she suspected usually gave him more leverage betrayed him and slipped out from beneath his feet. He seemed unaffected and stood up again to look at her, wide-eyed and amazed.
Kurama briefly gave him an explanation, and it seemed his brain took it up, but still took a while to process it. Black-jelled had taken one seat in front of Koenma and Botan the other.
"Where did you get all of those scars?" the toddler asked. She glanced at Kurama and could see he was practically dumbstruck with the little guy's bluntness, but she couldn't answer even if she wanted to.
"Hey, pacifier-breath, if you haven't noticed, she had a minor malfunction in the neck area," black-jelled said sarcastically, sinking into the chair in a slouchy position. They were never allowed to be slouchy at the institute. She remained unaffected, where she usually would have castrated a person when speaking so bluntly and sarcastically with or about her.
Koenma glared at his team leader, "Thank you, Yusuke. Now that we have that cleared up," he said and cleared his throat, "Where's her body?"
"Hiei took it to the morgue," Kurama answered.
Koenma took a deep breath and sank back into his chair. Only above his head could be seen, and Amaya would have laughed if she could have. The toddler asked some questions that Kurama had already answered, but answered again nonetheless. Amaya did try to listen, but it seemed too futile when everything was so clear and good around her. Everything made sense.
She looked to the one end of the room, and discovered that the entire wall had racks stacked up with books. She mindlessly walked over to the books and read the titles, but none really interested her. 'How to be the Bigger Man; How to claim your co-worker's respect; Lost father, lost child.' And more self-help books she thought were silly, but she didn't even unknowingly judge the Koenma-character, for she accepted that that was what he was like.
"Amaya?"
She turned around and faced…nothing. She looked down and saw the toddler looking strangely at her. She knew that deep-down he was afraid of her. She never thought that the markings on her were so repulsive.
"Amaya, we're going to the morgue, to get you a…body. Do you understand, Amaya?" he asked. She idly wondered why he was constantly repeating her name. "Amaya?" There he goes again.
She looked at Kurama, and he smiled. He was probably the only person who did that without grimacing. She wanted to work the muscles in her face and smile at him too, but those muscles seemed dead - duh. She nodded her head, and followed the small steps the toddler took.
They walked through many hallways she had only gotten a glimpse of when they flew on the oar. They soon reached a white door deep within the mansion, and far, far away from any real human – demon? – activities. It was awful without her powers; she felt incomplete without it. Strange: miss the powers, screw the body!
They walked into what seemed to be reception area, and a demon with think, black-rimmed classes and a white coat stood behind the counter. His skin was as pale as a recently washed white sheet. He didn't scream, gasp or pull out his hair when he saw Amaya. She guessed he was use to seeing the dead at their worst. He rumbled through some papers and clipped certain ones onto a clipboard.
"Yes, Koenma-sir, what can I do for you?" he asked, stepping out from behind the counter with a chart in his hand.
"I came to see the…this girl's body."
"Please follow me," he told Koenma, and giving a stern glare to the rest, "You can observe through the glass," he told them and started walking towards an unmarked door.
He apparently knew why Koenma had come, because the clipboard contained all the information of her body's autopsy. "Already done with the body?" Koenma asked, surprised. Koenma climbed up a step-ladder and stood on it.
"Yes, Koenma-sir. There was only this body and then two more that came in today. You know all the fun ones come in during the weekend." He laughed at his own joke and went to a microphone and put it on, "Can you guys here me?" he nodded his head once he got their confirmation from the other side of the glass.
He then pulled open a slab marked 'Amaya' and the date. He pulled a white sheet down to expose her body to her stomach. Koenma gasped.
He laid the clipboard onto her dead body and started putting on gloves. "Time of death: 0920 hours, Wednesday, 27 April 2005." He put on the other glove. "Cause of death: loss of blood, the result of a fatal wound to the neck by a sharp object. Katana, sword, or large kitchen knife." He picked up the clipboard and wrote something he probably only then noticed. He then looked at Koenma and continued calmly, "Age: Varying from sixteen to twenty human years." He moved to the front of the slab and hung the chart on it. He rubbed his hands together in a clear sign or anticipation.
Koenma had stared at her blemished body at first, but he seemed to have regained his composure since then.
"There are lots of old scars on the body," he said, tracing a zigzag pattern covering her entire right arm with his index finger. "Deliberate scarring, judging by the specific order." He seemed to want to point it out to Koenma, because he lifted the other arm, with the same patterns, for a clearer view.
Koenma clearly wanted to gag, but he held himself.
The man zigzagged his way up the arm again to the face. "Cuts above the eyebrows and around the eyes," he traced them as well. "Gives an Amazonian-warrior look." He moved to her breasts, "Except, of course, the Amazons usually cut off their left breast for handling a bow and arrow," he pointed out the scars and crosses around the nipple, "Hers were just marked.
"It is strange, though," he remarked suddenly (as if what he has seen isn't strange), "There were no scarring made on the back, only the front."
He snapped out of his informative personality, and went back inspecting the body, "A large gash here on the lower abandonment. Not part of the specific arrangement. The womb was removed, and none too subtly. Judging by the scar, a human wouldn't have survived."
Koenma gasped, and his employee seemed to know that he should give his employer time to recuperate. Amaya glanced at the observer's window and saw two shocked faces, an indifferent one, and an absolutely horrified one who disappeared as its owner ran away.
"Here," he said as he threw the sheet over the upper-half of the body, and lifted the sheet to expose her legs to mid-thing, "are also markings. The twirls go all around the legs and eventually feet, and even at the bottom of the feet." He stopped and appeared to be thinking. "Oh, yes!" he said and threw the sheet over her legs again, and exposed her upper-half again. He lifted the limp head and pulled the hair away, "Some strange diamond shapes on the nape and behind the ears," he informed him, "Some kind of possession mark, maybe a tribe or something."
He ran the autopsy through his mind again, and apparently pleased, he covered the body completely and secured it inside its compartment.
Koenma started to say something, but it came out a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Any…you know…I…" he couldn't say what he wanted to. "Sorry, I've only seen two dead bodies my entire life," he explained. His employee smiled and suggested.
"Shall I go look for a corresponding body?"
Koenma nodded his head, grateful that his staff knew what the hell they were supposed to do.
The man crossed his one arm across his waist and rested the other's elbow on it. He rested his chin in his gloved hand and tapped against his lip with gloved fingers. He observed Amaya for a long time, and then said, "Ah! 21-034. Yes, she'll be perfect!" he stormed over to another door and pulled out a slab. Koenma quickly turned away.
"Yes. Yes. Um, Amaya, go observe and see if it's alright," he instructed, and left the room. He went to join his team on the other side of the glass.
The man beckoned her over, and she obligatory followed. "Death: 25 April 2005. Cause: suspected accidental drowning. Age: varying from nineteen to twenty-three. No organ, other than the lungs, or other bodily malfunctions."
Amaya stared down at the pale girl. Even in death, her cheeks had a rosy glow in them. Maybe it was makeup? Her hair was wavy and a mixture of blonde colours. Her skin was flawless, and it looked like she had a womb.
What the hell?
Amaya looked at the man who smiled like an anxious salesclerk. She didn't know what to do, so she nodded. The man laughed merrily and rushed to behind a computer. Amaya glanced at the window, wanting to know what was happening, but the man quickly informed her.
"Come, come. Time to get you a body!"
Wait, did they literally mean get her a body! Holt shit!
The man tried to grab her to move her, but laughed at his mistake when his hand went right trough her. He told her to go into a certain cubicle which shone with bright blue and yellow lights. Once inside, the door closed behind her and she developed a sudden case of claustrophobia.
The lights started to spin and spin around her, she could make out which way was her left. She felt her eyes pop back into her skull, and her body started to shake viciously, but it wouldn't stop. She wanted to scream, something was telling her to breathe, and at the same time she couldn't.
The lights ceased, but she was weak, she couldn't breath and her body was cold and ached. The door then opened, and she fell out, onto the hard, cold, white floor. She felt her eyes roll back into her skull again, and cursed the people who made her want breath again, only to make her unable to. At least this death wasn't as horrible as the previous one. It didn't hurt as bad. This was her last thought as the blackness started to engulf her, but then she felt something cold, but vital touch her lips.
She wanted to reach for it, but she couldn't reach. But the thing against her lips, gradually, came on its own accord. It sent a gush of breath through the unusable windpipe. The coldness left her and she mentally begged for it to come back, but she couldn't. Instead, she felt an awkward pressure below her breast. Then another, and soon another.
The fluid that blocked her from breathing rose up from her chest and pooled in her mouth. She opened it to scream, and this time she could. She coughed water out over her face and someone pressed their arm in beneath her shoulders to lift her upright.
The familiar cold hands clad in gloves dried water from her cheeks, chin and throat. She felt a blanket being thrown over her naked body as the person murmured what she supposed was soothing words. Over her gasping she heard a door being shoved open roughly, making it hit the wall, and the group of familiar people soon filed in after one another. First the redhead, then the black-jelled, then Koenma…and she passed out before she could see more.