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CHAPTER NINE- INNER DEMONS

SOUL

Cancerous smog befouled the dimly-lit room, his shoes tapping loudly against the grey ceramic tile. Papers littered the desk at the far end of the expanse, the space mainly occupied by a variety of glass tanks, test tubes, and the distinct scent of formaldehyde. This laboratory was the last place he wanted to be. It brought up a number of memories he'd rather not revisit, during the time of his exposure to black blood.

The diagonal scar that cleaved his chest in two, throbbed in remembrance of the day. The day that he'd laid down his life for his meister, the girl who had refused to leave his side even in death. They'd blindly danced through the torrents of madness and oncoming slew of danger. He'd sworn he'd always be there to protect her. And yet, here he stood. In the same lab he'd been saved- only to become her number one threat. He was a selfish man, alright. Too selfish to give her up, even if it meant he would be the one to kill her.

Soul grimaced at the fatal mixture of cigarettes and oxidized methanol, resisting the urge to cough. His lungs urged to reject whatever pungent concoction the professor had been hot-boxing. Hair the color of cement glinted under the foreboding light of his desktop, the makeshift man adjusting his glasses inertly. "Soul. How interesting of you to drop by." Stein observed blatantly. Soul mimicked his level of enthusiasm to a staggering degree. This madman was about as pleasant as Maka's father. He was an emotionless pawn to Lord Death. A freak that only concerned himself with the hunger for knowledge, and little else.

"I need you to run tests on me." The white-haired man stated plainly, his hands stuffed into his freshly-stitched pockets. He stroked at the inner seams with his thumb, lovingly. The shade of his yellow sleeves reminded him of the meister he left at home, probably stuffing her nose in a four-inch-thick novel by now.

Whether or not he could return to her as he protector, would depend on this visit.

Stein reached for the screw protruding from his skull, winding it like a tinker-toy as it clicked away loudly. "You caught an STD?" He accused comically.

Soul smacked a hand to his forehead in annoyance. It wasn't the time for his idiotic jokes. "No. Not that kind of test!" How could he even think that he'd been with anyone other than…

The gears in his swivel chair creaked as he spun to face him, an apathetic chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Alright, what seems to be the problem, then?" He spoke with a cigarette wedged between his teeth.

"Aside from the fact I might contract lung cancer?" Soul replied flatly. His eyes deterred from the sight of the stitched-up scientist, running a hand through his hair. "Maka hurt herself." He sighed, hesitant to divulge any further.

"Is she alright?" His brows disappeared beneath his hairline. It was good to know the doctor possessed the slightest bit of concern.

"She's fine." Soul assured him, rocking back on his heels. "I'm the one who's not." He squeezed his eyes shut, unsure how to even begin. His stomach churned with legions of acid wearing on the lining of his innards. Sand chafed at the pipes of his throat. His mouth went dry. How lame. He could barely get the words out.

"I've developed an appetite for…" He paused, nails digging into his palms.

Say it. "Blood." He choked out. "Her blood."

Stein wound the screw in his head, emitting a short hum of interest. "Blood?" He echoed, his face scrunching- conforming to an expression of scientific curiosity.

Soul was growing impatient, his teeth ground together in frustration. The premise for being here was enough to irk him, let alone its resident. Every minute in that hell-hole of a lab made his skin crawl. There was a mixture of ripe anxiety and yearning that was drawing his being into a cataclysm. Being far away from his meister never sat well with him.

Maka… Her name was a fresh reminder to his newly discovered urge. An urge that could quite literally bring her to the brink of death if he wasn't careful.

Stein drew the cigarette from his lips, exhaling more noxious fumes into the limited air space. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes growing a rare shade of stone-cold serious. "It's not the black blood."

All hope that still resided within his withering core perished. He wanted to blame these symptoms on an infection. An illness. A defect. Anything. The black blood was his only scapegoat. And without its fault, he'd be left to hang for his sins.

"I know you, Evans. You've fought quite admirably with your inner demon…" His vacant stare chilled the liquor pumping through his veins. "There is a limit to how much you can contain. There's a limit to how much you can suppress your soul."

"I'm not suppressing anything." Soul bit back, though his retort did not stop the professor from continuing his baseless accusations.

"You had an appetite for souls prior to the transfusion. While I will say it's uncommon, it's almost unprecedented for a non-kishin." The professor dropped his half-burned cancer stick to the floor, grinding out the embers with his foot.

"The hell it is. I'm not anything like those kishin." Soul growled, baring his teeth. If he dared assume that he was hunting human souls…

"No, you're not." Stein said simply, standing from his chair.

"Unless you have the answer, genius, will you just run the goddamn tests?" He insisted, his right hand fisted in his jacket pocket. It was like he was trifling with him- all for the sake of his sick idea of amusement. Talking to him was like volunteering for a fucking social experiment.

"I don't need to run any tests on you. Your soul tells me everything I need to know." That's right. The creep could see his soul.

He kept his idle hands in his lab coat, taking a few steps towards him. "That little devil inside of you is nothing more than a figment of your imagination."

His words echoed throughout the room with an eerie chill.

"He is a part of you. He's the manifestation of everything you've managed to keep under wraps until now. But you are a Death Scythe, now. Amplified, modified, and unleashed into a form that can no longer contain your demonic nature."

Demonic. His blood slowed in his veins, congealing and melting into a shock. Realization hit him like a bucket of cold water. White hair. Blood eyes. Monstrous teeth. He was the spitting image of Hell's Reaper. He was the very creature that Maka and him spent years battling. A demon.

"Perhaps if you kept in contact with your brother, this might have not been such a big shock."

The mention of his brother tipped his emotions on overload. Their relations were more than strained to say the least. "Wes has nothing to do with this." He snarled, resisting the urge to bash the guy's face in. That wouldn't be very cool. Almost as uncool as losing his wits. His world was seconds from crumbling beneath his seemingly stable feet.

"Your kind use blood and souls as an energy source. And while you might crave a soul as mildly as you crave normal food- that will change." Soul gripped for any ounce of normalcy to his words. "Maka, has a Grigori soul. A rare, and highly coveted type. It's also known to be extremely tempting to demons." Stein removed his glasses, signifying the grimness of the situation. "Whatever attraction you feel towards you meister is predatory."

His chest tightened with remorse, wishing he could unwill all that he had learned. "Then why haven't I been reported to Lord Death? Am I not putting her in danger?"

Stein's gaze seeped into him like a brand on his very soul. "Because I trust the love you have for your meister, will keep you sane."

"And if it doesn't?" He bit back, unconvinced. For all he knew, he could go completely rabid the moment his black blood took over.

"It will." Stein said with a rather heavy amount of conviction.

...

The front door nearly splintered at the sheer force inflicted upon its chipping exterior. Maka came bounding into the living room, the ceiling still quaking from Soul's abuse. Ashen waves of blonde entered his peripheral vision, demanding his attention. His scarlet eyes veered to her pink lips, swelling with blood as she stretched them into a display of affection. He could sense the battering of her beating heart, sloshing blood vigorously at the sight of him. She was happy to see him.

"Where have you been?" She probed cheerily. Sure enough, there was a book tucked into her right palm- a finger wedged between the pages as a temporary bookmark. His chest wound and uncoiled all at once.

"None of your business, nerd." He replied coldly, brushing past her in pursuit of sanctuary. The incessant pounding of her heart had him on a route to certain disaster.

Those absurdly pink lips glowered at him. "Hey! Soul Eater!" She called after him, reaching for his shoulder.

He caught her wrist, his grip vice-like. Her delicate fingers had grazed a primal territory that was now on high alert. His reaction time was reduced to a matter of seconds. "What?" He spat, his dark eyes boiling with something cynical.

Her resolve caved, staring in disbelief at her weapon. Orbs of emerald were shot wide, dejected by his actions. The muscles in her cheeks hardened, rising into tribulation. Her bottom lip trembled. "…I just …" She tried to speak, failing to form words. He could feel the pulse of her veins against his palm, holding her wrist with inhuman strength. It called to him like sweet wine, the fragrance tickling his nostrils.

Suddenly the vision of her blood vessels were so clear, tempting him in strings of blue beneath her milky skin. It took everything he had to release her, retreating to his room.

Anger now painted the colorful blonde's personality, ramming through the walls of their bond and straight into his room. "What is up with you today?!" She shouted at him, daring enough to take another swipe at his torso. Her hands had barely reached the yellow fabric of his jacket, before they were pinned flush against the wall. His hands were her captor, administering imaginary handcuffs around her thrashing arms. He was heaving oxygen, greedily absorbing the smell of her fragrant essence. It would be so easy to slice her open… Control, damn it. He needed to get a grip.

He'd been so consumed by his new meal-source, he hadn't even witnessed her horror-stricken face. The mere sight of her- terrified by him- was enough to wrangle his senses. His grip loosened on her wrists as he hung his head low. What was he supposed to say?

"Soul." She uttered his name shakily, brushing the bridge of her slender nose with his own. She nudged him as if to say: look at me. Slowly, he willed his eyes to meet with pools of wavering green. He wished he could get lost in them, wading through mossy fields of foliage and forest. Such beautiful gems… such beautiful, fragile gems. They split light in so many crooked fragments that he found himself memorizing- all before he broke the masterpiece before him.

"I am Greed." He rumbled, his throat bobbing. Recalling their previous conversation, he nestled his forehead into her neck. The sound of her blood flow was far louder there. "I am Gluttony…" The tip of his nose traced her carotid artery. "I am Lust." He grunted, resisting the urge to sink his teeth in.

"Soul, what are you…?" She trailed off, regressing into the wall behind her.

He drew back, hooded eyes meeting her disturbed features. "I am the embodiment of sin, Maka. I'm a demon."

Maka shifted in his grip. "A demon-scythe." She stated with a quizzical tone. "I'm pretty aware of that- considering I'm your Meister and all…"

A snarl rippled through his chest, as if by instinct. "No, Maka. A demon. A soul-eating, blood-sucking demon."

She blanched, desperate to shake off the seriousness to his words. "I don't understand."

He scoffed at her, uncaging her from the wall. "Never thought I'd hear those words out of your mouth."

Then again, he never thought he'd ever crave to end her entire existence, either.

"Soul, this isn't funny." She censured, her arms surrounding her waist protectively.

"It's not a joke." He rested a palm flat to the wall beside her head. "I'm supposed to protect you. But I was too much of a selfish bastard to admit I'm the one putting you in danger."

"That's nonsense-" She interjected.

"I was with Stein. That's why I wasn't home. The fucking prick knew about it the entire time. He knew and…!" Small blades tore through his fingertips forming claws.

Maka jumped as his claws punctured the drywall, specs of dust spilling onto her shoulder. Her hand sought to provide him refuge, enveloping his cheek with the solemn stroke of her thumb. She could feel the current of rigid frustration swallowing her partner whole. "Slow down." She cooed, whispers of her mental agenda reaching his conscience. Tell me everything. Her thoughts oozed. It was rare that Soul ever lost his cool, let alone in front of Maka. She'd seen it all with him, including the Maddness of Boobs- (which had taken a whole another effect on him entirely). Little caught her by surprise at this point. Regardless of her Weapon's behavior, she never felt endangered by him (even in spite of his ability to dice her into bite sized cubes at will). She was too headstrong, and a little too naïve in that way. It made him wonder if she'd even fight back…

"It was never even the black blood, Maka. It was me. All me. The little devil was apart of me." His claws dug into the grey drywall, itching to cut into something more satisfying. Something that would gush, and splutter, and taste like euphoria. "All of this insanity was the result of my own failure- I-"

Maka touched a finger to his lips. "You're not a failure." She whispered, removing her tempting little digit from the vicinity of his teeth. Blood would seep right out the tip if he just removed that pesky band aid. "You're my partner, demon or not. I don't care if you're a Shinigami, or a Witch, or-"

He snorted, retracting the blades protruding from his flesh. "If I was, I wouldn't be the one putting you in danger. Now, would I?"

Maka crossed her arms. "Then I suppose I have a bit of an attraction to death." She announced defiantly. "Don't get any ideas of leaving me. I've survived your wrath since we were eleven. I think I can handle it."

This woman was something else. He shouldn't have expected anything different from his meister. Her cranium was as hard as a fucking bulldozer. She'd chase him to the ends of the earth if he turned her back on her.

"I'm not going to leave." He mumbled, refusing to meet her gaze. "I'm too selfish to let you go."

"Good." Her sylphlike arms locked around his neck. Once again he nestled into her collarbone, resting his hands in the dip of her waist. This time, comfort won over hunger- temporarily ending the reign of his insatiable need for blood.