Chapter 3
They're surrounded by simpletons, Jaeger decided as golden eyes peered over the books they had 'borrowed' from the Town School.
Seriously? If this was the best 'modern' day society had to offer it was a miracle they were still alive seeing as their 'education program' was looking rather suspiciously like one of those religious brainwashing pamphlets meant to spread a church's influence while turning the people into mindless sheep.
Then there was the bit the could actually be considered 'educational'. The part that is Him knows this should be difficult- that he shouldn't understand a word of what he's seeing- but with the pieces of her memories...
Well, to be honest; Its ridiculously easy.
"Home Schooling it is," They mumble softly as the book snaps shut.
They officially hate 'Festivals, Jaeger decides as they silently make their way through the sea of bodies gather for the 'Blessed' event and the bell-like laughter of children echoes through the air. To be honest, they don't want to be here. They could care less about the 'Witches' and 'Devil Spawn' receiving their 'Just dues' but the filth seemed to have consumed the town to the point they couldn't attend to their business without stumbling across one scene or another.
It's disgusting but at the same time they know: This is the way of His World.
For as long as he could remember Humanity had been divided and more than willing to Damn each other for anything and everything they could think of- Religion, Superstition, Skin Color, Religion, Status, and Class- so the 'Festival' doesn't really bother him. For him, this is just another Tuesday.
She is not as accepting.
Don't get the wrong assumption, she was no Saint- there was too much blood on her hands for that- as she had willingly Damned herself some time ago but even she- whose own mother considered her heartless, who was all but drowned in ghosts and baptized in their blood for the sake of Queen and Country- had morals. She had a limit on what she found herself willing to accept...
The Slaughtering of children was not on that list.
So the moment they catch sight of a man dragging a redhead child- who could be no more than six summers- through the crowd and towards the pyres, they follow without a moment's hesitation. She cannot save everyone- she knows that better then anyone- but she would be damned if she just stood by without saving even one.
Of course, nothing ever goes according to plan; He could acknowledge that- it was just another fact of life as far as he was concerned- but...
I thought you were only going to take one.
I changed my mind, She whispers in response to the silent accusation while their physical body herds the children further into the forest so to place more space between themselves and the inferno blazing behind them.
I do hope you shall not make a habit of this, he grumbles softly. After all, constantly burning villages down was sure to catch the sort of attention they really didn't need.
Oh, lighten up; I only burned down half the village.
As if that made it any better.
Disgusting.
This was a scene of death, of unrighteous murder, and yet it seemed more like a festival- the air was light. Full of laughter from the playing children, cheers from the drunken and shewed language from the rest- then a burning of the innocent.
Which apparently wasn't only limited to adults.
Bermuda could feel the scowl twisting onto his face as he watched a child- who could be no more than six summers at the most- be dragged through the crowd and towards one of the stakes along the edge of the platform.
And now they're burning children, he thinks bitterly as he pays for his purchase, Did Humanity have no moral ground left to stand upon? The answer was rather clear to Bermuda even before they lowered the torch onto the child's pyre.
He should have left by then- he was already behind schedule-and watching the superstitious coward as it cheered and jeered over a child damned to die left him feeling sick; yet just as he was about to leave a cry of inhumane rage pierced through the air.
If Bermuda's honest, he's not quite sure what happened. One moment there had been a cheering crowd burning a child and the next that inhumane noise had filled the air followed by screams as bodies were rapidly thrown aside like a child's ragdoll to make a clear path for the Child's Pyres.
In a matter of seconds, Chaos reigned supreme.
Even when he tries, Bermuda finds he can't see anything worthwhile as the villagers rushed about like headless chickens; pushing and shoving each other to the ground in hopes at ensuring their own survival. Then he finally caught sight of the Source of this ... 'Disturbance': a tall man wearing a heavy traveling cloak with a hood- right as it jumped into the flames of the Child's Pyre. For a moment he wonders if its the child's parent but those thoughts find themselves banished to be nothing more than ghosts as the figure leaves the flames moments later.
That was not a man. Instead, standing before the crowd -clutching the child wrapped inside a traveling cloak- was a corpse.
A corpse, the child's savior was a corpse; but not just any corpse. He knew those exotic golden eyes, that decaying caramelized skin, those wavy locks of raven feather hair.
"Jaeger?!"
For a moment, Bermuda would swear golden eyes flickered his direction before the tall corpse pulled the child closer to his chest and darted into the mass of frantic guards and panicking villagers.
And just like that, the corpse was gone.
Despite the Guards- His- best efforts the golden-eyed 'demon' had vanished without a trace; It would almost as though it had never even existed if half the village wasn't burning down and all the children suddenly missing...
Though he doesn't show it to the world, Bermuda feels as though someone has just punched him in the gut before tearing the rug out from beneath his feet.
Jaeger couldn't help but sigh as caramelized hands paused in the midst of hammering new shingles in place and golden eyes glanced towards the ground below where a mass of children was at play.
To be honest, she's not really sure how she should feel on the matter concerning the young one. On one hand, she was pleased to have saved so many while granting them a proper chance to be actual children but on the other hand-
We can't keep them.
-There was that.
He's being nothing but honest, she knows that; but at the same time-
An assortment of dirty faces flutters across their mind: small smiles accompanied by soft laughter and eyes too old for their bodies, Jaded yet Naïve, Cautious yet too Trusting, a small village, a children's home, Smoke, Fire, Ashes falling from the sky like a blanket of fresh snow, the metallic scent of copper, the earth stained crimson, the soft creak of a branch as a small body swings in the breeze
-She refused to give the children up until she was absolutely certain they would be safe.
She would not permit herself to make that same mistake twice.
If Jaeger was to be honest, they weren't the type to regret- there was no point in wallowing over 'what ifs' or 'could have been'- no matter what decisions they choose; but at this rate...
"KEKEKEKE!"
Well, He found himself truly wishing she had left that rouge haired Demon disguised as a child to burn on a pyre as caramelized fingers attempted to pry tree sap from Helga's curls only to somehow make the situation even worse- How they managed to relocate a portion of the mess into their own hair despite their hands never once straying towards their face was a mystery Jaeger wasn't quite sure they wished to solve- for both himself and what he would now officially dub as His Favorite Child.
"Right, new plan." Jaeger mumbles as their fingers release the captive locks causing watery amber orbs to glance upwards at them with a hint of distraught, "You shall not have to cut away my hair, shall you?"
"I'll attempt to leave that as a resort," Jaeger promises though its more in hopes of stopping the tears that had yet to fall, "Though if it comes to that, I shall personally remove Jack's as well."
It was only fair, seeing as the rouge haired child was the source of Helga's dilemma.
"KEKE- Wait, what?!"
"Jack," Jaeger speaks slowly as golden eyed peered towards the rouge haired child who's face was rapidly beginning to resemble his hair, "You do realize a snare is meant to capture prey with, not to ensnare yourself; right?"
As they watch a scowl twists onto the child's crimson face as he once more vainly attempted to reach the rope caught snuggly around his ankle, "Just get me down from here!"
We're never bringing Jack on another shopping trip again, She decided as golden eyes watched the rouge haired child almost set some poor merchant on fire.
Sighing softly, Jaeger permitted themselves to glance towards the ceiling- almost as though praying for the patients not to murder the rouge menace then and there- before a bandaged hand darted out only to snag the back of the rouge's shirt when he attempted to rush by them, "Enough."
"But Jaeg-"
"No," They speak bluntly so to cut off whatever migraine including excuse the rouge could possibly come up with, "I have no wish to hear your excuses, Jack. Either stand next to me or go sit in a corner until our business is finished."
"You do not understand," For a moment crimson orbs glanced away from their face- glancing at something that was hidden out of the taller's sight- before shifting into a whisper, "we are being fo-"
"I know." Both of them had felt the gaze on their back the moment entered the town but as of yet it's owners had neglected to do anything more than observing from a distance so there was no need for such a blunt distraction, "Just... Act natural, Jack," Panicking would only draw attention and possibly force their companions to act out whatever plans they held sooner rather than later, "And when the chance presents itself, slip away into the crowd and get Helga. I want both of you to head home early today."
Feeling both slighted and insulted, Jack opens his mouth- most likely to protest or ever offer his assistance. After all, child or not he was still a man and men did not flee from danger- only for his voice to falter upon noticing the gleam within those hard golden eyes.
For a moment, the rouge couldn't help but feel as though staring a Demon from the depths of Hell itself in the face- there was something wrong, unnatural, dangerous even about that expression and it didn't help the white of the other's eyes had turned pitch black- so its more of a 'Fight or Flight' instinct that has the rouge stumbling backward in an attempt to place distance between him and the creature that could not possibly be Jaeger.
Then he blinks- his eyes had only closed for less than half a second- but by time Jack glances back towards the taller man, Jaeger- the Jaeger he had grown used to and not that split second demon- was ideally chatting away with the merchant once more.
"What the hell?"
"We should just kill them and be done with it," Jaeger mumbled to themselves as cold eyes stared down at the would-be bandits who had the misfortune of attempting to target them only to shake their head a moment later, "We should turn them over to the Enforcers."
"They threatened the children."
"Than break a couple of bones as a warning then hand them to the Enforcers."
"Or I can kill them, therefore ensuring they can never so much as breathe of me and mine, before throwing them into a shallow grave."
To an outsider they probably would have looked mad- standing in the middle of a dirty alleyway taking to themselves while trying to decide exactly how to deal with the annoyances that threatened their makeshift family- and to be honest, they probably were. Their sanity had been throw out the window the moment they died only to met fictional characters that weren't so fictional, encountered that bastard Death and then woke only to find themselves sharing the same mind and body of which had once been- and still was- his corpse.
"Or you can start listening to your elders."
"I did that once," She admits as their lips twitch upwards slightly in amusement, "I then broke his nose not even five minutes later."
For a moment, he could actually see it:
A bleach blonde man with frantic blue eyes shouting something at a woman's back- both of which he notices appear to be wearing similar uniforms- only for her to ignore his ranting. He could all but feel the fury building beneath her skin with every unheard word before a pale hand attempts to grab her shoulder. Its a mistake on his part as the dark-haired woman to use the momentum to spin on heel with a raised fist.
CRUNCH!
Distinctly the woman is aware she's likely to face either Court Marshalling or the Brig for this, but she doesn't care- Its not his friends, his family, he wanted to leave for dead out there- so she draws back her fist once more.
Shaking their head to rid them of the memory attempting to surface, He couldn't help but sigh as he barely resisted the urge to bang their head through a wall out of sheer frustration and to think She was His Counterpart- a younger, female version of himself...
"Alejandro must have been a saint," He grumbles softly. After all, the blue-haired man had known Him since he was but a toddler and somehow managed not to kill him after all those years.
The Universe was laughing at him, of that Bermuda was certain as dark eyes stared blankly as a man dressed in bandages and a heavy traveling cloak dragging several unconscious bandits right pass him. After all, what else could it be when he had spent the last six months all but turning every town, village, and stone he could get his hands on in hopes of finding the man turned corpse- though it had been a constantly vain gesture- only to have the taller walk right by him just moments after the Veckenschtein Lord had verbally given up?
For a moment, all Bermuda can do is stand there as his mind fully registers what his eyes see before the dark-haired Lord finds his feet slamming on the dirt road in an attempt to catch up with the other.
Hopefully, the golden-eyed corpse didn't attempt to feast upon his 'prey' -like Alejandro had done the one time the blue-haired man had managed to escape from his room- before The Night Arcobaleno could catch up.
It was going to be a long night, Jaeger decided when they finally took notice of the extra shadow- they would never have noticed had their feet not halt for a moment only for the soft noise of sand shifting beneath soles to continue filling the night air- stalking through the town's empty streets.
Honestly, they find it annoying- was there some sort of universal sign on their back that everyone but them could see?- as all they currently desired was to rid themselves of their unnecessary luggage before heading home.
Unfortunately, that would have to wait as some Deity out there- most likely that bastard Death- was obviously conspiring against them-
"Jaeger!"
-and that just proved it.
After all, everyone He once knew was dead- either by the hands of time or the creature dubbed as Checkerface- therefore; no one besides two children should have known their name.
Bonus: Her World
Life was fickle, a rouge haired man of twenty-three summers decided as he stared upon the open casket before him; One moment it was there- as bright as the sunlight shining into the solemn room- and the next it was gone like a shadow in dawn's first light.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. She had been a fighter- a survivor- who had lived through War, Betrayal, even Hell on Earth with that faint smile on her face and for what? So a bunch of drunken children could accomplish what hundreds of other's couldn't?
So she could drown on her own blood in some muddy ditch not even five minutes away from her own home?
If the man known as Ian Haxton was honest, That was what he was having the most issues accepting as he had known her all his life and She wasn't the sort to just lay down and die-
She had stayed strong when her older brother had disappeared at fourteen, She had been stubborn when her mother had passed away at sixteen, She had been determined when she signed up for the forces next to him that very winter.
She never allowed that small smile of her's to fade when they were dragged into war at seventeen, and she had been outright spiteful when she when Jeason had emptied his handgun into her back when he showed his true loyalty and how deep betrayal could run as 'sometimes the best revenge is to live'.
She had stayed firm when they been recruited for that 'Special Taskforce' at nineteen and didn't waver once despite the hell they had witnessed first hand these last four years.
-to just give up so thoroughly on what she held close.
Yet there was: 'Sleeping' inside that wooden box.
He wants to laugh- where had that fire gone? How could it have been extinguished so much that she would just lay there and die like a dog after all this time- but he can't. If he opens his mouth, the rouge was certain he would curse her with every bit of foul language- and in every language, he knew- for just leaving the way she did and if he did that...
Well, knowing her; She would probably crawl out of hell itself to kill him for traumatizing her precious little sister while holding the child's hand.
And there lied the other issue:
The rouge had always suspected she was missing a few screws- how could he not?- but he never once suspected She had been Mad enough to Will a child to a group of trained killers. Sometimes, he wonders what had been going through her head, but it's too late to ask now and he- they- couldn't turn away the child for the little one was all that was left of one of Their Own.
So he does the only thing he can, the only thing left for him to do. Tightening his hold on the child's hand, Ian tries to ignore the heavy sobbing which racks through their small body in favor of guiding them forward:
It was time to say Goodbye.
Either they were Cursed or someone was specifically targeting His Taskforce; a dark-haired man known only as 'Sephtis' decided as void filled eyes stared into the open casket before him.
Maybe had it just been one or two of his operatives every other month the soulless eyed man would have considered the possibility of an 'accidental Death' but...This was the fourth casket containing a member of His Taskforce he had found himself glazing into within the last twelve days.
Four separate 'accidents', four open caskets, four mangled corpses...
There was a saying that 'Once was a happenstance. Twice was a coincidence. Three times is enemy action.' Going by that logic, Sephtis could only conclude that Four must be an open declaration of war.
Unfortunately, knowing that didn't solve anything but rather left more questions then answer: The matter of Who and Why being his main concerns.
Sure, they had many enemies- no one did what they did for a living and didn't acquire a few dozen enemies- that would love nothing more than to grant each and every one of them an agonizing death but no one outside the Taskforce knew who actually belonged to it unless you were a part of it.
Which could only mean there was a traitor in their midst. Someone- one he had hand-chosen and called his own- had betrayed their makeshift 'family' and was giving away his operatives like they were spare change.
The thought left a bitter taste in the soulless eyed man's mouth but he dared not dismiss it. He couldn't- four corpses. Four people who once had names: Raeyvn Crowley, Destiny Winters, Jazz Ragini, Romanova Vladimirovna. Four companions who had placed every shattered piece of themselves into his hands and trusted him enough to permit him to rebuild them as he saw fit.- otherwise he might as well have slit his fallen comrades' throats himself.
He doesn't bother glancing away from the corpse as soft footsteps come to a halt beside him; he doesn't need to. There's only the two of them here now.
"Commander..." The blue-haired man's voice is soft and full of grief for a close friend that had been all but family, "Your orders?"
For a moment, he just stares in silence before finally rounding on heel and heading for the sole exit, "Bury the casket. Preserve the body with the others. "
Though he wasn't certain how he would do it, Sephtis was going to fix this; even if he had to steal their souls from Death himself.
