Under the scarlet sky
Chapter Four
'Heartbeat #0822'
"Hey, Bernnn~ Who's the pretty red-head?"
Bernkastel looks at Lambdadelta over the top of her teacup. Her eyes are lidded, hazy, almost sleepy- but there isn't enough 'human' left in Bernkastel to make her appear vulnerable. Instead, she looks more like a corpse; a ghastly waxwork living from day to day through sheer force of will.
Other people would flinch from dead dolls' eyes like that; blank as buttons.
Lambdadelta isn't 'other people', however.
Lambda leans across the table, supporting her head with her hands, elbows pressed against the table top. Her nose nearly bumps against Bernkastel's. A small smile plays across her lips. Lambda's wide red eyes peer into Bernkastel's face, as though she's looking at a specimen under a microscope.
As Lambda surveys her, Bernkastel suddenly feels... disconcerted. She's never felt like this about Lambda before- but, in a flicker of eyes and a quirk of the lips, Lambdadelta has caught Bernkastel off balance somehow. Bern feels cornered; her back pressed against the chair, her vision eaten up by Lambda's bright red eyes.
There's nowhere to run to.
(Why would she want to run? Running is so undignified.)
She feels… … helpless.
Weak.
A cat on waiting for a statistically improbability to save her from an endless nightmare.
Endless...
As long as she continues to live, she will never forget.
And she will live forever.
Those memories haunt her; always tip-toeing around the fringes of her mind- waiting to catch hold of her heart at any given moment.
Lambdadelta's eyes look endless- almost as though she can see right through Bernkastel. But why should Bern be worried? Her heart is empty of love and care; devoid of sentimental debris, detritus... nonsense.
There's nothing left inside of her for Lambdadelta to pick apart.
She has nothing to feel afraid of.
She is not afraid.
She has survived enough fear in her lifetime. Fear is a dark emotion; a helpless sensation of four walls pressing in at you from each side until you can hardly draw breathe and your heart hammers a pattern against your chest. Once fear catches hold of you with its shadowy tendrils it's almost impossible to escape.
Bernkastel has escaped that emotion, as she has escaped the cage of love and hope.
She has no regrets.
She will not allow herself to feel such emotions anymore.
She will not allow herself to be weak.
If being strong means being hollow she will accept that- because she has been weak once. She used to be pawn; a piece; as helpless as a stray cat in an alleyway, scrounging for food from trash cans.
Perhaps she was even more helpless than that.
But she has left those feelings behind her now.
She will not be afraid again.
S-so why, when Lambdadelta looks at her with those wide red eyes, does Bernkastel's heartbeat spike suddenly? Why are those four walls of fear- those walls she reduced to rubble when she escaped the logic error and escaped that woman and escaped herself- pressing down upon her once more?
Lambdadelta looks as though she knows something.
"Hey, Bernnn~?" Lambdadelta says, her voice light-hearted; sing-song. "I asked you a question. Are you ignoring me?"
"It's poor etiquette to put your elbows on the table." Bernkastel's voice is cold when she speaks. Her voice is made of ice; biting enough to eat into the hearts of minds of men and freeze them inside out.
But Lambdadelta only laughs.
Lambdadelta has experienced fear, too; fear just as pronounced as Bernkastel's- and Lambdadelta survived.
Lambdadelta has no cause to be afraid of Bernkastel when she is fully aware there are far worse phenomena in the universe to be frightened of.
"Well, soh~ree," says Lambdadelta, rolling her eyes. "You didn't care about etiquette last night when my fingers were inside you and you were screaming my name!~"
Bernkastel's face remains impassive. It betrays nothing. "Please do not exaggerate."
"I won't if you'll tell me who the new girl is~ The one with all the red hair."
"I would have assumed a nosy witch such as yourself would already know."
"Huh? Bern, did you call me smart?~" Lambdadelta's eyes light up, and a teasing smile tugs her lips. "I always knew you liked me, Bern!~"
"Don't twist my words to suit your own needs. It's tiresome."
"Oh, you're so cold- especially after all the things we've done together! I'm heart-broken!" declares Lambda, clasping her gloved hands to her chest. Her long, lithe, black-clad fingers fist against the folds of pink material. Despite Lambda's performance of 'never ending anguish', however, her red eyes remain cold- strangely calculating (Lambdadelta is smarter than she looks. Given the candy in her hair and bows on her dress, that's not too much of an accomplishment). "But you are right, Bern~ Ihihihi~ I do kinda-sorta know. That girl's your new piece, right? Ushiromiya Ange... Ange is a cute name!~" Lambda makes a face. "It doesn't suit her. There was nothing 'cute' about that girl at all."
"If you already knew why did you feel the need to interrupt my tea time with pointless questions?" asks Bernkastel, her unblinking purple eyes boring into Lambda's face.
Bernkastel is not afraid.
She is above earthly emotions such as 'fear'.
She... will never be afraid again.
She will not allow herself to be trapped up inside that black box- that suffocating morgue, crypt, coffin- anymore. She isn't a marionette in a witch's game. Now it is Bernkastel's turn to hurt others. Now it is Bernkastel who lets others know the pain and fear and impossible loneliness that comes with being manipulated like a child's doll then thrown in a corner to rot.
How do you create a monster?
You abuse somebody who's weak; pushing them over and over until they snap.
Then you give them power.
Bernkastel revels in her elevated position. She likes being on a pedestal; untouchable. It's... comforting.
The fear can't get her here.
The fear can't- but Lambdadelta can. Her black gloved fingers claw at Bernkastel's lily-white skin and worm inside her body, whilst Lambdadelta's lips curve into a cruel smile.
No matter where Bernkastel goes, no matter how powerful Bernkastel becomes, Lambdadelta will always be there. Always. Lambdadelta clings to Bernkastel like drops of rain or a second skin.
You can't run away.
"I just wanted to hear you telling me yourself~ Geez, you get so uppity and upset about the strangest of things, my temperamental little Ber~rrn~" says Lambda. She draws out her 'r's, almost purring as though she's a cat.
"I am not temperamental. Your presence merely leaves me in a state of perpetual irritation."
"Humph!~ Somebody's grouchy today!~ Maybe I can fix this~~" Lambda sings, her fingers running through Bernkastel's hair. It's not a 'loving' motion; there is nothing 'loving' about Lambdadelta's awkward angles and skinny frame, jutting out elbows and sharp fingernails.
There is only pain.
But pain is better than fear.
"Hey, Bern~" Lambda ducks her head, pressing her mouth against Bernkastel's ear. Her voice drops to a soft whisper, her voice lower, deeper, more adult than usual. "I've never seen you get so involved in a game that doesn't involve you before~ What could the reason behind that be, I wonder?"
Bernkastel's body stiffens, as though in rigor mortis.
"There is no reason."
"You don't do things for no reason either~ That's waaaay too childish and impulsive for somebody like youuu~ You don't do things unless you can gain something from it. I know that~"
Lambdadelta smiles a cruel smile filled with malice.
"Bernnn?~ Does it have something to do with this?"
Bern feels unwelcome fingers pressing lightly above her breast. Against her heart.
Suddenly, it feels as though icy cold fingers have enclosed themselves around Bernkastel's throat.
It hurts to breathe.
Ange doesn't last very long. This doesn't surprise Bernkastel; not in the slightest.
That stupid girl only had to adhere to a few rules. It was simple. But she couldn't do that. She couldn't follow orders because she… what, 'loved' her big brother too much?
How stupid.
How sickening.
'Love' turned people into unthinking idiots, acting only on base instinct rather than logic; just like zombies.
Ange was a useless piece; nothing more than a second-hand pawn, discarded by Kyrie and captured by Bernkastel. Ange had been unable to help Battler- so perhaps it was good such a useless person died. That was 'justice', no? And Ange's death had spurred Battler on to defeat Beatrice.
It hadn't been a 'real' defeat, though.
Beatrice hadn't even tried to deflect Battler's blows, as pathetic as they were. A child could have seen through Ushiromiya Battler's arguments. 'Small bombs?' The thought was enough to make Bernkastel laugh.
So Bernkastel did laugh.
Why not?
Why didn't Beatrice do anything?
Did she not want to hurt Battler?
If she didn't want to hurt him, maybe she shouldn't have engaged him in her twisted chess game to begin with. Did she not think of that? Or did she not care if Battler dealt blows of red truth through her body- skewering her in place until her dress dyed red and blood trickled out of her open mouth- just so long as she could spend time with her 'beloved'? Had she always expected it to end that way?
That...
That was unacceptable.
Battler hadn't defeated Beatrice. Beatrice had defeated herself; allowing Battler to kill her because... because...
Because she was in 'love'.
Just like Ange.
They were messy, bloody, ugly sacrifices brought about for illogical reasons- reasons Bernkastel could not even begin to comprehend.
Love was unnecessary.
If you wanted to hurt yourself, why didn't you bite the inside of your mouth or scratch your veins out of your skin and be done with it? Did you have to thrust your fingers into your chest, rip out your heart and hand it somebody else so they could crush it for you?
That was all love was.
Hurting people and being hurt in return.
How disgusting.
Beatrice, even though she'd been reduced to a dead-eyed doll with awkward ball-joint limbs, had not been defeated. She had allowed herself to lose for 'love'- and perhaps she had thought, in some unbearably 'human' way Bernkastel didn't understand (had no intention of ever understanding), that she had, in fact, won. Battler hadn't remembered what promise he'd broken (Ushiromiya Battler was incompetent), but Beatrice had been struck down by the person she loved in a false 'final battle' she'd constructed herself.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
Bernkastel could have forgiven Beatrice for such a poor ending to her badly constructed mystery story if Battler had truly wanted to kill her. If Battler- devoid of any sentimental human nonsense- had impaled her again and again with spheres of red, uncaring for Beato's cries of pain, then Bernkastel could have enjoyed that spectacle.
She could have watched it whilst eating popcorn.
But Battler had not wanted to kill Beato.
Instead, he had wanted to end her suffering.
Battler's eyes hadn't blazed with hate when he'd sunk his spears of truth into Beato's ragdoll body. Instead, Battler's eyes had been wide, trembling with... pity. Sympathy.
Love, love, love- there was so much love everywhere, in the words people said to the blood that stippled the floor in small specks, that it made Bernkastel feel sick.
This was not the ending she wanted.
Love, love, love.
Everywhere she turned, everywhere she looked, she was treading in sticky sentiments and unspoken feelings; so sincere and honest she almost wanted to carve scorpion symbols into Beatrice's skin. Would Battler still care about her if half her face was missing? What if she was ravaged by her own goat butlers?
Well...
That would be an interesting experiment.
How funny.
Ihihihi…
Kukukukuku!~
A twisted, distorted giggle forced itself out of Bernkastel's mouth.
Love did not exist.
People who claimed it existed were fools.
Beato had sacrificed herself for 'love'.
Battler had tried to end Beato's suffering for 'love'.
But it was all a childish fantasy, a delusion- no more realistic than a watercolor illustration inside a children's picture book.
Beatrice was not dead. She was still alive; trapped inside her own cold, dead body like a bird in a cage- but she was alive. Battler's piercing blow, straight through her heart and up into the roof of her mouth (her blood must have tasted warm when it trickled back down into Beatrice's trachea and choked her), had not destroyed the fantasy of the witch. The fantasy was still alive, her leg bound by a heavy chain.
Bernkastel had 'won'- but it wasn't a complete victory.
It would never be a complete victory until she had ground Beatrice down to the very last cell in her body- and she'd made Battler watch.
Just like with Ange.
Ihihi~ Angeburgers~
Bernkastel would show them all how stupid they were for clinging onto false, fleeting hopes. She would grind them into the dust. Then she would hold up a mirror, and let them see just how pathetic they really were.
Bernakstel had hoped once- but centuries of darkness and pain and loneliness had cured her of that particular delusion.
"Hehe~ Won't you fight, at least for Ange's sake? And Beato's too, right?~" Bernkastel goads with uncharacteristic cruelty, her soulless eyes boring into Battler's.
She knows she's caught him. He can't escape her web.
Come into my parlor said Madame spider to the flies.
Come on. Let's have some fun.
Battler will fight, Bernkastel knows it. He's haunted by the memories of Beatrice, the memories of Ange, and the memories of his poor, poooor family members who keep dying in the most horrible and improbable of ways (although the truth of the matter is far, far worse). Battler will come back. Bernkastel knows just how to manipulate people. It's easy. For Ushiromiya Battler, all you have to do is tug on his heartstrings and he'll come running.
Beatrice, Ange.
Battler loves them both.
He wants to protect them both.
And, whilst he attempts to 'protect' them, he'll be forced to watch Bernkastel disassemble Beato's game- clawing out the insides for all to see.
Without love it cannot be seen.
But there is no 'love' in the mystery genre. 'Love' only blinds you to the truth; makes you unwilling to suspect others; makes you weak; makes you stupid.
Bernkastel is above such things.
I will not allow this story to have a happy ending.
a/n: cheerful fic is cheerful XD
I think I'm like halfway thru now. Funfunfun.
~renahhchen xoxo
