First of all, let me take a minute to say that I am really, really, really, really, REALLY sorry this took so long to update! T_T Let's just sat that between school and a case of writer's block for this plot, I just couldn't bring myself to get it done. So...*grovels* I AM SOOOO SORRY!
Alright, now that that's done, I believe a huge THANK YOU is in order for all those who reviewed, subscribed, and favorited. You all are incredibly, epically AWESOME, and honestly you are a huge inspiration to me. X3
I feel like I got a bit lazy towards the end of this chapter..._ But seeing as this will be the last installment of "Nowhere Man" I don't want to end on a bad note. XD So I'll just say THANK YOU ALL once again for clicking on my story, and I hope that you ENJOY! 8DDD
A city is a place of sound. The eldest Devil had learned this from her the time she had entered as a fresh and pure infant into this unclean, uncaring, merciless world. Like a huntress recognized the sounds of approaching prey, she had discovered from experience what each noise meant. She knew the sound of a broken beer bottle crunching beneath her black boots, glass shards glistening like cheap jewels. She knew the pounding footsteps of a panicked soul running from her, as well as those of someone coming after her—the sounds of both the pursuer and the pursued. She knew car alarms, crying children, the squeaks of hungry street-rats, the screams of the terrified…and of course, gunshots. She knew gunshots.
What she now heard was the distant, throbbing dong of church bells, ringing out their single, deep, monotonous tone, calling in a flock worshippers to offer up their praises this early Sunday morning.
Liz did not heed the bell's invitation—after all, what had God ever done for her?
The question was answered when a lump resting beneath a tattered, moth-eaten blanket stirred, then at last opened her eyes to greet the light of day: those large, innocent eyes that somehow seemed to always be viewing the world as if for the first time.
If there truly was a righteous and almighty Being residing on a holy golden throne somewhere high above the clouds, He or She or It had at least provided her with one thing in this life.
That thing was Patty.
Said girl sat up on the dirtied mattress, groggily rubbing her eyes. "Mornin', sis…"
Liz had to grin. "Hey, Patty. Did you sleep alright?"
The younger girl's face lit up, suddenly no longer tired in the slightest. "Yeah! I had a dream about a big bunch of giraffes in the city! We all had ice cream, and went to the park…and then there was the best part! After all that, I got to snap all their necks with my bare hands!" She spoke with pure excitement, like a small child recalling a recent trip to an amusement park. "And I got to hear all the bones go snap, snap, snap! And then they got all limp and stuff, and they collapsed! Haha!"
Liz forced herself to keep the smile on her face, even though she could feel an invisible fist strike a hard blow straight to her gut. That feeling came to her only when she saw that her sister was spiraling deeper down into the insanity that came from living as a Brooklyn Devil for one's entire existence. That madness had been slowly gnawing away at Patty's mind and soul for years, and Liz knew it…but up until recently, it had been manageable. Perhaps her younger sister hadn't exactly been mentally stable, but she had still been the light of Liz's world. Now…she was different. That beautiful, glowing look of resilient joy and hope she'd always had was being slowly replaced by an expression of borderline dementia. Her lovely eyes, brighter than any sky, were starting to take on a crazed quality.
Liz had one blessing in the world…and she was failing to protect that blessing. She had no way of saving Patty from herself. Patty, the only reason she had to continue and endure this wretched, damned life of a criminal. Patty, the thread onto which she clung in order to keep from falling into a dark and tempting abyss.
The inability to rescue her sister was slowly killing Liz from the inside out.
Patty seemed to detect her distress. "What's the matter, sis?" she asked in a voice full of genuine concern.
Liz sighed. "I was just thinking about where we should go to get money today, Patty," she replied reassuringly.
The younger Devil jumped up, shining locks of blonde hair bouncing. "Yeah! Then we can blow the bastards to hell after we mug them, right? BANG, BANG, BANG! There goes their heads!" Her cheery giggles echoed through the alleyway, scattering the mangy, beady-eyed rodents that also called the place home.
Yes, a city is a place of sound. Sound and peril.
A city is the angry thunder of bullets, determined in their deadly chase. A city is the danger of having one's delicate pink flesh penetrated by hard, heartless, emotionless metal.
A city is a couple of Devils on the run.
FUCK! I'm such a moron! This was the only thought Liz's racing mind could process as the shouts of angry men and another volley of gunshots sounded behind her. She and Patty had attempted to mug a man, at the time oblivious to the fact that he was part of a rival gang, which was now out for their blood.
It's all my fault…it's all my goddamn fault.
"SIS!" the younger sister's voice cried out from the brown-haired girl's clammy palm, where she had become a weapon. "Why can't you just blast those motherfuckers to hell so they'll stop coming after us?"
"I can't!" Liz's yell was shriller and higher than she'd meant it to be. The thugs were gaining on them: by the time she turned around to fire, she would already have been pumped full of ammo.
So she continued to run, faster, faster than she ever believed she could. Adrenaline coursed through her veins to the frantic rhythm of her thudding heart. Even in the biting chill of a New York autumn, fat beads of salty sweat formed and lingered on Liz's forehead before finally descending down her temple, lazily caressing her flushed face as they dripped down.
It was then that there was a nauseating crunch, and she was overwhelmed by the white-hot agony of lead smashing into her arm, tearing mercilessly and unhindered through muscle and tissue, smashing vulnerable bone into glass-like shards.
She instinctively clutched her injured limb with a shout of pain, gritting her teeth and ignoring Patty's shocked screams as crimson liquid gushed out of her wound and stained her hand red. The men running behind were getting closer…
Without thinking, she rounded a corner and allowed the sensation of her body becoming metal overtake her. She fell to the ground in her pistol form, Patty hitting the floor beside her with a thud. Their pursuers unwittingly ran past.
Liz transformed once again into a human the moment the last of the men's footsteps had faded into nothingness…and instantly the excruciating, torturing feeling of her broken arm returned. She clenched her jaw until it ached in protest, trying anything to distract herself from the gunshot wound.
In a rapid, jagged flash of pink light, her sister changed back as well, fear for her sister apparent in her youthful face. "SIS! Are you okay? I'll fix it, I promise! I'll get those jackasses for you, okay?"
Liz forced the corners of her mouth upward into a wavering, watery smile, desperately attempting to comfort the younger girl. "N-no, Patty," she mumbled weakly. "Sis'll be fine. I-I just need a sling for my arm…and maybe a smoke. But I'm fine…" And even as she spoke in her calming tones, she knew that she would never have so much as a fraction of the hope and trust in life that Patty somehow managed to maintain.
After all, they were Devils…and everyone knows that all Devils go to hell.
"That wasn't long before we ran into you, Kid…that's just how it was."
For several long minutes after Liz had finished recounting the story, silence pervaded the room, interrupted only be the noise of the persistent thundershower outside the window. "…So now do you see what we mean?" she asked in a hoarse and broken whisper. The memory of her past life had always been vivid in her mind, but speaking of it to another person gave the images locked in her mind a new dimension of reality.
She turned to said shinigami and saw him staring motionless at the floor, not reacting to her question. His silky hair fell around his face, locks of ebony and ivory, shielding the liquid gold of his eyes. Meanwhile, Patty was turned away from both of them, shoulders shaking very slightly.
The older of the weapons pressed on, despite the fact that her eyes were beginning to sting with the threat of tears. "You still think you don't have worth? You think everyone will just forget all about you if you killed yourself? Bullshit, Kid. Hell, if anything, you were the ones who gave us value—you did give us value…why can't you wrap your stupid striped head around that? Why do you keep wasting your life concerned about what you are?"
Nowhere Man, don't worry.
Take your time; don't hurry.
Leave it all 'til somebody else lends you a hand.
Still no reply was given.
"Kid…I asked you a ques-"
Without warning, he suddenly leapt up and hugged the two sisters at once, for once not commenting on their lack of symmetry. Despite the fact that his death-god skin was cold, his embrace radiated a gentle warmth that filled the room. Even if their souls hadn't been connected, Liz and Patty would have still been able to tell exactly what their meister was trying to say.
"You fucking idiot…" Patty quietly sniffed as she squeezed Kid more tightly, as though afraid to let go. None of the three were able to hold back their sobs any longer.
Nothing can't stay nothing forever…something must always come in to replace it.
Nowhere Man, please listen:
You don't know what you're missing.
Nowhere Man, the world is at your command!