Untitled
Chapter 1: Be My Escape
I was pushed against the wall in the hallway, the very person I used to love suffocating me. Soul had come home with a large gash on his muscled bicep. I had only followed him to ask what had happened, purely concerned.
"Soul, are you hurt?" I had asked. He didn't answer he proceeded to the living room, forcefully thrusting himself down on the sofa. He sat quietly for several moments, making fists in his lap and gritting his teeth, before grabbing my wrist, startling me, and pulling me to his side on the seat. His arm slithered around my shoulders, chilling the blood in my veins. I sat, quivering and shuddering as Soul leaned his head in the crook of my neck. He groaned something that was almost incoherent. It sounded like, "I love you, Maka," but I couldn't be sure. He hadn't said anything close to that in months. Soul's usual words were "get me a drink" or "I hate you, Maka." I had learned to forget my own name so as not to be broken by the second statement. Forgetfulness, losing yourself, is supposed to be good... isn't it?
Soul stirred a little, moving an upturned hand to my lap. Cautiously, I put my hand in his, receiving another soft stir and a softly tightening grip on my hand. Soul muttered something again, but this time, I was sure of what he said.
"I love you, Maka," he paused, wincing, before begging, "Help me, Maka, please! Help me!"
My eyes began to tear up at the thought of having the old Soul back. He said he loves me and he wants me to help him. Help him through his addiction? No, even before he started drinking he'd never ask for help. Maybe I was looking too much into things. I carefully turned my head, so as not to disturb him. But I could still have faith. Gently, I pressed my lips against his forehead, tasting the alcohol sweating out of his body. I did want him to get better. I have refused to give up on him. "I love him." I've always believed in that declaration. I thought I always have... but lately, I'm beginning to doubt anything anymore. Sometimes I get these deep thoughts, about life; why was I born? Do I have a purpose? Usually I would have the answer: "Of course! Soul is my one and only!" I would smile so brightly, something I hardly do anymore. Soul and I shone brilliantly together, although recently we've been more like a solar eclipse. He blocks me out with his darkly lit exterior.
With my lips still pressed against Soul's forehead, these thoughts raced as I cherished his calmness. Before I knew it, tears overflowed onto my hand, clutched in Soul's, and his forehead, gliding down his face. I tried to shake the sobs quivering my body, but to no avail.
Soul stirred once again, more conscious, and I closed my eyes, whimpering, ready for punishment. But I opened my eyes to the sound of his voice.
"Maka? You're..." he trailed off, shaking and staring at me with wide eyes. He lurched for me and I flinched back. Soul made no point to notice, enveloping me in his warm, strong arms tightly. I stiffened at the long-forgotten gesture.
"You're still here," he whispered. "I thought I had chased you off. I never wanted to hurt you. I promise."
No. This isn't the old Soul. I could feel it in his wavelength. I could hear it in his voice. When I didn't hug him back, Soul pulled away, looking into my eyes.
"Maka, I don't want to lose you." He took my hands in his.
My eyes searched Soul's. I found something bad there. I pulled out of his grasp, backing away from the sofa. I was scared again. Soul had misled me again. He chuckled darkly, piercing me with his vicious eyes.
"You know I'm notorious for breaking my promises though. Don't you, Maka?" He stood from his place, showing his razor teeth with a fowl grin. "Seriously, Maka, you're such an idiot. So trusting in others. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Didn't your Papa ever teach you not to be so dimwitted?"
Soul's eyes focused on me. As I crept back with cowardliness, he advanced on me, trapping me in a corner. He put his left hand firmly on the wall beside my abdomen, changing the other into part of the scythe he truly was, planting it the wall very close to my head, making my eyes go wide. I was visibly shaking at the thought of what he would do to me. What else could this one person take from me? He'd already bruised, cut, and tortured my body, he tormented my soul with empty promises of change, of sanity. He'd even dissected my heart, finding my weaknesses and strengths, damaging it in every way, and then put it back in my body, not even bothering to sew it back together. The only thing left was...
Soul pressed his body hard against mine, resting his forehead, the one that, not so long ago, I had kissed, against my own, never losing that sinful smile. I could see the maddening intentions plaguing his eyes, presenting a whole new inferno for me to endure. He began kissing my collarbone, pulling out the ties holding my pigtails. He clutched my hair, his lips moving to my mouth. Soul transformed his right arm to its original form. It gripped the clothing at my lower back. More fear pulled at the strings of my heart. Soul was going to do the hellish deed that every girl lives in terror of. This was it, the thing that would lock me away inside of him forever. I could never leave after this. His hand slowly moved to my abdomen, up my shirt.
No. I refuse to be beaten! I won't let this happen!
When Soul pulled away from my mouth, devoured by his tongue, I sucked in a deep breath, gathering all of my courage, and shoved Soul to the ground. I tried to run past him, getting caught when he grabbed my ankle. He maneuvered himself over my face-planted body.
"You didn't think you could get away that easy, did you? Face it, Maka," Soul taunted. "You're mine, and after this..."
He tugged at my skirt.
"You always will be."
_Third-Person P.O.V._
Maka wriggled underneath of him, grabbing at him to her best ability with her hands, trying to buck him off of her. But this only seemed to excite Soul further.
He bit into Maka's neck, breaking the skin. Maka cried out in pain, pleading for any true sign of salvation. Now came the last resort; breaking him down mentally. She stopped struggling for a moment, turning her head as far as she could manage to meet Soul's eyes.
"Soul," Maka whispered, voice breaking. She heard Soul snort and partially saw his smirk.
"Maka," Soul addressed, encouraging her to continue. She inhaled deeply, hoping, praying, that somehow she would be rescued.
"Why," Maka uttered, silent tears falling. "If you used to love me so much... then why? Why did you start drinking? Why did you stop coming home every night? Do I mean nothing, nothing at all to you?"
Soul was silent for a moment before clenching his teeth, momentarily growling, and swiftly retreating to his feet. Maka was able to turn over to her side, afraid to sit up. They locked eyes for one heart-pounding, ground-shaking minute. In Soul's eyes, Maka found anger, greed, and yet, overtaking desperation, but also, deep down, grievance and guilt. Soul was shaking. He didn't know what he was doing anymore. He had no real thoughts, not that the thoughts weren't legitimate, but Soul had no thoughts that were his own, at least.
"Maka," Soul grunted, his face twisted with disgust. With this, he delivered a brief, harsh kick to Maka's torso, hearing a satisfying crack, wearing a pleased grin. "You are nothing to me-" another kick "-garbage!"
Repeatedly, Soul delivered violent blows. By this point, Maka's skin was torn on her stomach, black and purple and yellow. Blood dripped through her torn button-up shirt. Maka didn't know how much more she could take without losing consciousness. Now, Soul grabbed Maka's long blonde hair with his menacing fist, pulling her to her knees. In turn, Soul leant down on one knee, gazing into her weary, blood-shot eyes, adorning her tired, tear-streaked face, which was also accommodated by a broken-skinned, swollen lip. When Soul had forcefully pushed his lips onto Maka's, he bit her to deter any protest. At the time, Maka's mind was frazzled, searching for a way out of the mess.
To any neighbor, Maka's cries of pain and plea were usual. They did their best to ignore it. The first time they called the police, Soul threatened to do worse things to them than he did to Maka. They immediately redialed the police, falsely assuring them that "things that go bump in the night" had spooked them. What else could they do, humans under the threat of a weapon?
Soul now transformed his hand into a scythe once more. He curled it under Maka's chin, moving his lips to Maka's ear.
"Hey, Maka," Soul explored. "Do you wanna know a secret?"
Maka could do nothing but stare dumbly at the wall behind Soul, covered in pictures, precious memories. There was the time Soul, Maka, Black Star, Tsubaki, Death the Kid, Liz, and Patty played basketball after defeating Asura.
"You..."
When the whole group went on vacation, playing volleyball on the beach. When Maka, Soul, Black Star, and Kid dressed up for Halloween.
"Are..."
Maka and Soul's first kiss.
"Going to..."
When Soul bought Maka a necklace shaped like a flower for her birthday.
"Die."
All of those memories were erased as Soul pulled back his weapon arm. Readying himself, Soul chuckled bitterly.
"Goodbye, Maka," Soul said darkly. "Oh, and in case you didn't already know, I never loved you. Not at all. You were merely... my tool."
Maka felt her heart beat harder with pain. One time before meeting her fate, Maka smiled.
"Goodbye, Soul."
As he prepared himself for the kill, Soul heard a loud whirring, voices barely heard over it. He growled, running to the room's window. He could still get away down the fire escape.
Soon after, the door was broken down, twin pistols aimed inside. Before Maka knew it, Death the Kid was cautiously making his way toward her, checking every blind spot as he walked. He threw one of his pistols in the air and it transformed into Patty. Kid tossed Patty the other gun, Liz, for cover as he went to Maka. Maka was shaking, on her knees, with tears running down her face. Her eyes were still wide at the possibility of what could've happened if help hadn't arrived.
"Maka, what happened? Are you okay?" Kid said this in a calm manner. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Maka jumped, surprised that someone had jolted her out of her thoughts. "Maka, who did this to you?"
Maka's shoulders were racked with sobs. What would happen to Soul if she told? Would he become an outcast, forbidden to ever enter Death City again? Or worse, what would happen to her? Would Soul hold a grudge, knowing it was her who ratted him out? Would he come to do what he failed to do this night? The possibilities were swirling within her head... and she was scared. No, she couldn't tell. Could she? Surely the city would protect her. But what about all of the humans in the city? Would they be ripped to ribbons just because of Soul's hunger to get to her? No. She wouldn't say a thing about the incident. But if Soul popped up again, there was no telling how much he could get away with when everyone was ignorant to what he did. This was it! The very salvation she had been patient for! But could she take that salvation and make use of it or would people die for a lost cause; protecting her?
"I-I can't!" Maka shouted, face down-turned as her bangs cast shadows on her eyes. "He'll come back! He- he'll-"
Kid had heard enough. He undid his shinigami tie, taking off his jacket and placing it on Maka's shoulders. Maka's own white dress shirt had been near completely shredded on account of Soul's beatings, barely covering her stomach. Putting an arm around her shoulders and the other holding her arm, Kid led Maka outside. Patty swung the gun this way and that, her eyes scanning madly.
"Patty, any sign of any suspects?" Kid muttered, disgusted at what the perpetrator had done. He knew it was Soul. He was the only one who could get to Maka without obstacles in the way. He lived with her, damn it! All of the times when Maka would come to school wearing sunglasses hiding her black eyes, or wearing long pants and long sleeves to hide the bruises. Kid was angry now. He was angry at the whole city; how everyone noticed and nobody spoke up. But then again, how could he be angry? That would mean he'd have to be angry with himself too. He never told anyone, but kept a close watch on Maka, making sure she wasn't killed. If he had had more backup, Soul wouldn't have gotten away. He would've paid a high price for what he had done, Kid would've made sure of that. The first time he noticed that Maka was different, he'd pulled her aside to talk to her.
Kid sat in the row behind Maka in every class. One day, Maka came into the room wearing a long-sleeved blue sweater and a pair of darkly shaded sunglasses. Kid saw her pull the teacher aside and talk to him about something that Kid himself could not hear. As Maka sat down in her seat, a miscellaneous student raised their hand to ask why Maka was allowed to wear sunglasses in school. Dr Stein glared at the student, telling them to stay out of other people's issues, lest they be dissected. After class, Kid asked Maka to wait in the hall with him while the other students shuffled along to their next rooms. When they were the only ones left, Kid began to talk.
"Maka, are you feeling okay?"
Maka said nothing but glanced at the floor.
"Maka, please tell me that you're okay."
"I'm fine, Kid." Maka's eyes were still on the white-tiled surface that they stood on. Kid grabbed Maka's shoulders, surprising her.
"Then please, look me in the eye and take off the glasses."
"I-I can't do that, Kid..."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want anyone to see me like this," Maka sniffled. Kid could see the tears falling from under the glasses. He reached for them but Maka held them in place.
"Don't!" She cried frantically.
"Please, Maka," Kid cooed, brushing the bangs back from her face. "Do you trust me?"
Maka remained silent. Of course she trusted him, but this was her problem and she would deal with it on her own.
"Please allow me to do this. I promise I'll keep it between us." Kid gave a weak smile, worry and expectance in his golden eyes.
Maka nodded anxiously. Kid reached for the glasses with both hands, gently removing them. But as soon as they were off, Maka dropped to the floor covering her face.
"Maka..." Kid pondered. He knelt down to her and placed a hand on her hers. A few stray tears slipped through her fingers.
"No, Kid! I changed my mind!" Maka yelled weakly. "Please don't look at me."
"Maka," Kid said sternly. "I'm your friend and I'll be here no matter what. I'll help you past whatever it is you're going through. But first, I need to know what's wrong. Maka, please."
"Kid," Maka started, raising her head in the slightest, but not far enough so that Kid could see her eyes. "Do you promise you won't tell?"
"Yes," Kid said regretfully. If it was something that Maka tried so hard to hide, then he should at least tell his father. "I promise."
Now, Kid took the initiative and raised Maka's face with a hand under her chin. He gasped at what he saw. Maka's right eye was black and blue, yellowing slightly at the edges.
"Maka! Who-"
"You promised you wouldn't tell, right?" Maka stared into his eyes for reassurance. When none came, she latched onto Kid's torso, sobbing painfully hard. Kid hugged her back slowly, tears welling in his eyes. "Please don't let anyone else find out! Please!"
"Yes," Kid said, pushing back the pain in his throat, gripping Maka's hair. "I promised."
Kid walked out of the apartment building with Maka by his side, leaning on him for support. He summoned beelzebub. Since Maka could barely stand as it was, Kid picked her up in his arms and stepped onto his transportation device. By then, Liz and Patty were in human form, awaiting further instruction.
"Liz, Patty, head back to the Gallows," Kid ordered. "I need to take Maka to see my father."
"Yes, Kid," Patty said with a salute, as bubbly and smiley as ever.
"Sure, Kid," Liz answered with a slight huff in her voice. With that, the Thomson sisters headed back to their perfectly symmetrical home.
"Umm... Kid?" The reaper in question looked down at the fragile girl in his arms. She was nuzzled into his chest, which was covered by a loose white dress shirt, similar to Maka's. Kid's eyes were glazed with worry, focusing intently on the equal he had grown to respect. She looked back at him, her emerald eyes glistening with sorrow.
"Thank you, Kid," Maka strained, her voice getting weaker. "But, I'm sorry that you had to... save me."
Kid looked at her incredulously. To him, it was obvious that she had too much pride to admit that she needed help, but to anyone else it sounded suicidal.
"Maka, he was going to kill you!" Kid reminded her. "Did you want to die?"
Maka and Kid looked each other in the eye for what seemed like forever. Finally, Maka rested her head back on Kid's chest, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling his knowing eyes on her. Then, Maka grabbed Kid's hand, which was under her knees, hiding a tint of pink on her cheeks.
"Thank you, Death the Kid, for saving me."
"Maka," Kid said. "Look at me."
Maka carefully lifted her eyes to meet his, their faces inches apart. Kid furrowed his eyebrows and abruptly pressed his forehead to hers, their noses touching now.
"I want you to know, Maka Albarn," Kid spoke sternly. Although his gaze was nothing but soft and reassuring, his expression held seriousness. "You can come to me with any problem that you may have. Especially when your life is on the line. Do you understand?"
"Thank you, Kid," Maka's cheeks filled with color as she felt she was about to cry. In that one moment, Maka finally felt like she could trust someone. Her arms still wrapped around his neck squeezed a little tighter. Pulling his face away from the flushed girl, Kid's skateboard took off toward the Academy.
