"Please could you stay awhile to share my grief
For its such a lovely day
To have to always feel this way
And the time that I will suffer less
Is when I never have to wake"

- Portishead, 'Wandering Stars'

Emily

Everyone looks like they're questioning the reality of this situation. Hell, I'm still trying to convince myself I'm actually conscious.

Kenji, who Liz is supporting by the arm, and still looking a bit green, may or may not have shit his pants upon entering the Death Room five minutes ago. He's also not too happy about lacking a change of clothes.

Kid is trying his best to look composed and not at all like his brain liquidized in his skull.

Then you have Black Star, who is demanding an explanation as to why he was interrupted from his Rocky training routine to stand around in the Death Room and wait for something to happen. Bless Tsubaki for putting up with a fourteen year old kid who looks like Rambo with the attention span of a gnat.

Liz has a semblance of what is going on by the way she keeps sneaking glances at Kenji from the corners of her eyes, or maybe she's just afraid he's going to get sick all over her chest. Patti, on the other hand, appears just as clueless as Black Star does.

And then there's Soul and Maka. Soul, with his ever present laid back attitude is coolly trying to assess whatever it is Lord Death called everyone into the Death Room for. Maka, meanwhile, has been sending me worried glances every second or so. She's a sharp girl after all, and it has been noted that she has one of the strongest abilities of Soul Perception DWMA has ever encountered. On a side note, she looks somewhat uncomfortable about having to be in the same room as Spirit, her father, who appears to have spent the night sleeping at a strip club.

And yes, Stein totally rolled into the room on his chair and crashed into the platform stairs.

Lord Death is sitting in his oversized royal chair, trying to collect his thoughts into words to describe this down right strange turn of events.

And for a girl who was just in a coma yesterday, Lucy seems to be fairing well. For once, Thurston isn't trying to make use of his knowledge for awful jokes to ease the tense feeling in the room, hallelujah.

Lord Death finally stands up, or whatever, does he even have legs? But let me say, I have never seen him look so serious. There's no jolly laughter or bouncing about with glee. If Thurston were feeling up to it, he would probably crack a joke about the situation being grim. Grim reaper. Grim. Get the joke? Leaves an awful taste in your mouth, doesn't it?

"Now before I explain why I have called you all here, there is something that needs to be brought to attention. From this point forward, what I speak of is not to leave this room, students and faculty both," He bounces, glides, shuffles, whatever, he just moves to the opposite side of the platform. "For the past couple of months, Emily Valentine and I have been in on a particular situation that calls for secrecy and could very well endanger what all of you achieved with the defeat of Asura."

I can literally hear everyone's eyes flying wide open.

"About two weeks before the revival of Asura, a group of renegades infiltrated SIN Technical School through manipulation and deceit. The goal of this group is to create a new god of madness, having rightly believed that Asura would fail at our hands. During this time, they recruited both Emily Valentine and her friend Lucy Wallace-" He nods towards Lucy, who for once doesn't look like she has her head in Neverland. "Under false pretenses towards a goal of ending the illegal trade of black market human soul trade. These two, having figured out the renegades' ultimate plan, tried to put a stop to it. And while the press covered the incident up an accident, it was anything but. Those perceived to be dead are anything but."

"Lord Death, are you saying that the fire at SIN was-" Maka's voice is dripping with shock.

The reaper nods. "Yes Maka, the fire was a result of a confrontation to put a stop to what was going on. Briefly before the fire, Emily Valentine contacted me regarding her doubts about the false operation she was recruited into, and we came to the conclusion that we had something serious on our hands."

"Why would something like that be covered up? You know we can handle it!" Soul's hands ball into fists at his side, his brow furrowing with irritation.

I haven't had a cigarette in fucking twenty four hours.

"Due to the fragility of the situation, I couldn't risk more people getting involved. Lucy here has been in a coma for the past two months due to injuries she suffered on the night of her and Emily's attempt to destroy the group's plans. However, that is not exactly why this has been a classified case."

Kenji knows everything. Everything but what he refused to believe. I really hope he doesn't barf all over this nice marble white floor or in Liz's hair.

"The group, led by a man named Noah with his two disciples Cain Iscariot and Gopher, has manufactured a new strain of black blood for whatever creature they have created using the Book of Eibon and Medusa Gorgon's research," I look down at the toes of my shoes. I can feel Lord Death and Kid staring at me with such regret that my deepest secret has to come into light. "During the night of the SIN fire, Lucy was infected with the creature's black blood. Emily, however, was forced to form a blood bond with it; She was injected with the blood and in return, their future god of madness received hers."

I've never heard a room so quiet in my entire life. This is what it feels like to have the darkest part of you thrust out into the spotlight. I'm addicted to snorting my grandparent's ashes. I'm a cannibal. I was born with a parasitic twin growing on my back.

"Emily…I…I didn't believe you," I look up and see Kenji straining from Liz's grasp, and my God he looks like he wants to break down into tears. "Em, I'm sorry."

Everyone look at me. Have sympathy for me and my tainted, parasitic blood. Look at my life.

"It's alright Kenji." My voice doesn't sound like it belongs to me, it sounds recorded and too well rehearsed. I told you so.

"Is that why Chrona isn't back yet?" Maka says.

Oh. That's right, Medusa Gorgon's daughter. Seriously, that witch makes mothers who strap their kids into drowning SUVs look like Parents of the Year. Yeah, she replaced all of her daughter's blood with black blood. Poor thing. At least she's human.

"I was afraid if the presence of two strains of black blood in the same area that a catalytic reaction would ensure. However, after personal observation, I can assure you that this strain is not only dependent on a host soul, but acts independently, able to replicate the form of human blood as to avoid detection. This form of black blood is aggravated by the host's mental health, and in Emily's case, also on the blood bond connecting her to the manufactured kishin god. I will brief Marie on the situation. She and Chrona are expected to be back here within the week."

Black Star huffs. "And this isn't a big secret anymore because…?" Tsubaki swiftly smacks him upside the head.

Lord Death's eyes narrow from under his mask. "It has come to my attention that Noah and his militia are proceeding with this attempt at a much faster rate than we anticipated," He nods at Lucy, whose eyes are focused on the contours of his mask. "Miss Wallace, would you like to describe the details of the event?"

Event: Fifteen year old girl in a month and a half long coma escapes unnoticed from a hospital of reputable security on the eastern coast and winds up in Nevada come the next day. All that and she still hadn't bothered to change out of a hospital gown.

My charcoal grey slip dress really doesn't suit her at the moment.

Lucy steps forward, rocking back and forth on her feet after giving a quick, analytical look over of her audience. Though the usual dazed expression is back on her face, I can tell you right now she means all seriousness.

"Hello everyone! I'm Lucy Wallace, and this is my partner, Thurston Palmer!" Thurston, and oh God he just shines under generally awkward moments, waves. "Well, I guess I should tell you all why I'm here on such short notice, especially to you Emily.

"So, I was dreaming that I was in a lush, blooming garden, sipping tea and finishing off a plate of strawberry scones. As I was about to clean the last crumb away, a little fluffy black rabbit came hopping up to me. I asked, 'Why, Mr. Rabbit, why do you look so troubled?' to which he said, 'Lucy, you have to wake up now!' Now, of course, people in a comatose state of consciousness must awaken on their own, and as far as I knew, the garden and scones were quite real. But that funny little rabbit kept telling me to wake up now or sleep forever!

"Then, Mr. Rabbit was gone and I found myself in a dimly lit white room with the ugliest looking nurse I have ever seen standing over me! Of course, it wasn't the fact that the nurse had an Adam's apple that concerned me, but rather the fact that she was holding a syringe of what I concluded to be some type of poison. Obviously, the nurse didn't expect me to wake up, which threw her-or rather him-off. I deducted from the last few things I could remember consciously that I was shot in the arm at SIN, and by the length of my hair I determined I had been asleep for over a month. Well, somehow or another I was able to transform my forearm into its weapon form when the nurse tried to wrestle the syringe in my neck, and I bashed him over the head!

"As for how I managed to escape from a hospital unnoticed, all of the cameras are angled to capture visuals at a certain height, and since it took until I reached an exit to regain the full use of my legs, I kinda just dragged my way through the halls! So I left and made my way to Thurston's house, where we decided that those men Emily and I had gotten involved with a month ago weren't very happy with us. So we packed up and booked two emergency flights here at eleven at night! Pretty outlandish, isn't it?"

Everyone looks like they've just listened to a crazy person ramble on about how he killed Hitler in Vietnam with a clown.

To quote Black Star's remark, "Is this chick special or something?"

Or Patti; "Cool!"

Awesome. Gopher dressed in fucking drag and tried to replace Lucy's IV fluid with arsenic. Of that entire crew, he was the one who posed as much of a threat as a yippy Chihuahua.

Lord Death looks a bit bewildered for a moment before he speaks up once again. "In light of this ordeal, as well as information that leads me to assume that BREW is in danger and their possession of The Book of Eibon, I am calling for an expansion of this covert operation to include you selected students and Death Scythes," His voice deepens with a new tone of seriousness as he releases a deep inhale. "We also have reason to believe that Justin Law has betrayed us to join in Noah's efforts."

Well, that is fucking news to me.

"Father, you can't be serious!"

"Justin Law, a traitor?"

"No way! Lord Death, there's no way a Death Scythe would ever double cross you! No way!"

The blood had told me of a recruitment of two new members in Saint Sebastian's. How did that escape me?

Lord Death clasps his hands behind his back. "I am afraid it is so Maka," He looks like he's been trying hard to convince himself it isn't true too. "But all evidence points to his defection to the side of madness. And I repeat, this information is not to spread beyond you due to the severity and delicacy of this situation. We are dealing not only with manipulated witch craft, the Book of Eibon, and the forsaking of a Death Scythe, but a highly dangerous group of radicals who pose a serious threat to the balance of our world."

He turns to look back at Kenji, who looks about ready to keel over, his arm wrapped tight around Liz's waist now for added support. "Kenji, as for your sudden bout of illness, your resonance with your infected partner did expose you to black blood. However, at the time we know too little about it to know if you are infected, but if I am assuming correctly, like regular black blood, you should be able to combat the sickening side effects within twenty four hours after being exposed due to being on equilibrium with Emily and your soul wavelengths being naturally resistant to madness. Because of this, I advise further caution when resonating with Emily, as you will only be able to keep her wavelengths under control so long as she has thirty percent control of her soul from the black blood."

The word of the day is devastation, as in 'All of this joy killing talk is devastation not only to Kenji, but probably to his pants because he might have shit himself.'

"As a result of all of this, I have called upon all of you because your past experience proves you to be trustworthy in handling so grave a situation. From here on out, you shall all be counted as members of a special team for this covert mission. You are here by members of Spartoi. You may all return to your classes, except for Thurston and Lucy, who shall go with Professor Stein and Spirit to clear them of health and fill out papers to enroll in DWMA. I expect everyone to meet back here tomorrow directly after class. Have a good day."

Yes, it's going to be another one of those days today.

In all the chaos that this morning brought about (Waking up in Kid's bed, having to go back to the apartment for a change of clothes for Kenji and myself, and the sudden arrival of my comatose best friend and her partner) I totally dropped the ball and forgot to grab money to buy a bento box for lunch.

This would bother me more if it weren't for the fact that I remembered hiding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in the crevice of the stone wall on the edge of the campus on Monday.

I really hate the taste of these things to be honest. If it weren't for the firm grasp of nicotine on my nerves and the desire to slowly die of smoke inhalation I'd throw this whole carton into a sewage drain.

I give the lighter a few bored flicks as I blow smoke from my lips. The flame's heat burns hot along the pad of my thumb, but I've built up enough calluses from my work wielding Kenji around that it's only slightly irritating warmth licking at the rough skin.

"Did you know that the same chemicals they put into rocket fuel are in those?"

For once, it's not Kid scolding me about smoking cigarettes on school property.

I glance to the left at Lucy, still wearing the grey slip dress I loaned her earlier, which really washes out the tone of her skin, as she situates herself next to me on the rock wall.

"I haven't seen you in nearly two months and you've picked up smoking? Besides your caffeine addiction, I thought you were above bad habits." She folds her hands in her lap curtly.

I glance down at the burning cigarette held in my fingers. "It could be worse. Usually, people with post traumatic stress disorder turn to crack or snorting Comet, so you should consider me lucky I guess."

Lucy nods, and I've probably jogged her interest in looking up how much of a house hold cleaning product you'd have to stuff your nose with before your brain starts to drip out of your ears.

"Mister Stein told me you were in the hospital for awhile before you came here. Was it like Girl, Interrupted?"

I take a quick drag on the butt of my cigarette. Lucy may be a certified genius, but in many aspects, she is immune to the idea of reality, as seen by this genuine question of whether mental hospitals are anything like Winona Ryder movies.

"Eh, it was really just a bunch of drug addicts and girls who were either not allowed to handle plastic eating utensils or refused to eat at all." I wasn't allowed to use anything but a spoon for a week until they realized I wasn't suicidal.

A moment of silence hangs on a string between us. We're talking as if nothing has changed. In a way, nothing has. Lucy is alive and appears to be capable of higher intelligence. It feels like we're talking over a burger and milkshake down by the harbor. After we pay our food we're going to go hangout in the cemetery and check out the tombstones of unnamed babies from the seventeenth century. It's just Emily Valentine and Lucy Wallace being strange and unusual as always.

But things have changed unfortunately. Lucy's got a shoulder all stitched up and wrapped in bandages and I'm sucking on the filter of a cigarette as if it's going to pay me a hundred bucks when it's all burnt out.

I turn over to look at my best friend. "Lucy, I am so sorry I got you involved in all of this," An apology a month late. "Shit, you almost died and it's because of me."

It took over an hour to wash the stain of her blood from my skin. I had to throw out the clothes I wore that day because the blood had set for too long in the fabric for any hope.

I feel Lucy shift closer to my side. "It was my choice and mine alone to involve myself."

I stick the butt of the cigarette between my lips. "I knew it wasn't right to get you mixed up in that crap but I fucking did it anyways."

Right now all I can think of is how much Thurston hated me when I first went to visit Lucy in the hospital. I had picked out a bouquet of her favorite flowers and after an hour of self convincing, I worked up enough nerve to go to the hospital. Thurston was sitting on the bed, petting the side of her head, and upon my entrance into the room, he gave me a look filled with such repulsion that I trembled.

"You did this."

That was the night of the infamous bathroom incident that got me committed.

On the day Kenji and I left Boston for Death City, I visited Lucy one last time. Thurston was there helping the nurse change her bandages.

"I'm sorry."

"So you're really leaving for Death City, huh?"

"I have to. There's nothing left for me here."

"What about us?"

"I'll only be trouble for you two if I stay."

"I'm sorry for bein' a jerk before. I don't want you and Ken to go, ya' know?"

"…"

"Take care of yourselves."

Lucy sighs. "You're my best friend in the entire world, and I have to warn you. If you allow yourself to be consumed by guilt you are only feeding the darkness inside of you," She turns to face the horizon view of Death City, her eyes baby blue and wide with 'Holy goodness, how macabre!' "It might be because I don't have the blood bond you have, but what my blood makes me hear and see is independent; It has no motives but to manifest in its own self interest."

She begins to swing her legs back and forth, the wooden heels of her Oxfords clicking in beat against the stone wall. "The blood is a reflection of our darkest parts and self conflict, all the negativity and the capacity for human evil. You can either come to terms with it or allow for it to control you," I look away as I feel her hand clasp my shoulder. "For your own good Emily, understand that sometimes terrible things are out of our control, and the only way to make things right is to move on."

I flick the cigarette of its build up of ashes. "You've got it all figured out and you haven't been awake for over twenty four hours." Sorry we can't all solve Calculus equations at age eleven. Yes, there is a part of me deep down that really envies Lucy. She's always been carefree and brilliant, able to build her own persona from the get go while I'll always be measured by Lady Lilith's shadow.

She perfected The Swan.

Not me.

I inhale a drag and let the smoke sit in my lungs before exhaling. "I don't know how long I can stay in control. Up until I resonated with Kenji I was able to keep it confined inside my head. Lucy, I'm speaking in tongues now for crying out loud!"

Kid asked me over his cup of Earl Grey tea this morning that if I consciously had the remarkable skill to speak backwards.

Lucy tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her tiny ear. "There's an answer to everything; Love yourself and give your soul meaning to thrive within your heart."

Lucy should really be the person who people go to for quotations to put on inspirational posters.

"So what, you've got your parasite on a leash or something? Don't you have issues with people thinking you're strange and all that bull crap?" Again, Lucy had always been the black sheep of SIN Tech. Not too many kids can recite The Raven by heart and consider Paradise Lost to be 'light reading'. Then there was the phase in which she wanted to be a taxidermist or embalm corpses for a living. She considered the people who dress up dead bodies and do their make up for wakes as hot shit. The first time we met in ballet class, other girls were picking on her for reading a book about Judeo-Christian Mythology instead of Highlights. While she wasn't necessarily bothered by it, we became fast friends after I ripped a fistful of hair from some spoiled brat's head.

This is another example of how I secretly envy her. She laughs lightly. "Well. I am comfortable with myself. While I made my way to Thruston's house, I began to feel all the negativity trying to grasp my soul. However, he ended up rejuvenating purpose in my heart."

It's really no secret that Lucy has always had feelings for her partner. Ever since the day they were matched up it was clear she held him in strong admiration. Thurston, of course not being the sharpest tool in the shed, was pretty oblivious to it.

"He never left your side for an entire week you know. The hospital threatened to slap a restraining order on him if he kept sneaking in to see you during non-visiting hours. I never saw him look so broken up over anything in my life. And yes, it was even worse than the Animal Crackers incident."

"You did this."

Probably at the memory of the Great Animal Cracker Incident of 2007, Lucy giggles.

You really don't want to know. It's too stupid to comprehend.

She smiles and finally takes her hand off of my shoulder. "We're planning on taking our partnership to the next level," There's the faintest of blushes spreading onto her cheeks. "I must say, his lips are quite soft."

I thought Thurston was holding her hand because she was suffering from post coma vertigo or something!

Thurston was smiling stupider than usual. Big goofy goon grin he only wears when he sees a hot girl in a bikini or vinyl metal record sales.

A slight scowl tugs at my lips. "You're lucky to have that with him, or anyone else for that matter. Must be nice."

Maybe it's not that I don't in pure hearted love.

What I really loathe is just how corruptible such a state human emotion is. Love sells Hallmark cards and chocolate. Love creates creepy stalkers. Love makes you act like a complete idiot.

I don't love myself.

I don't love Cain.

But he's still standing in the wing of the theater of my life to drag me back to him.

This is why I can't have nice things.

"You have it too."

I nearly give myself a cigarette burn in the cheek at this. Fucking hell Lucy.

"Lord Death's son? I saw the way he was looking at you. And I've known you quite long enough to know you let your brain get in the way of what you want."

My cheeks feel hot. I can't stand to look her in the eyes anymore.

I look down at my hands. They're shaking cigarette ash all over my knees.

"Regardless of what happened or what your blood is tainted with, you're still Emily Valentine, and I want to be by your side because I am infatuated with you."

My hand was so warm in his last night.

And it was the first time in so long that I've slept peacefully throughout the entire night.

Kid wants to be by my side no matter what. He's fearless and stubborn and he's foolish for wanting any romantic relationship with me.

My heart has led me astray before once, why should I follow it again?

"It's Cain that's holding you back, isn't it?"

I sneak a glance at Lucy out of the corner of my eye.

"What do you like about me?"

"Why won't you make love to me?"

"You love me, right?"

"What am I to you?"

Cain never loved me.

No, he just desired me.

I was the missing piece to complete a new era. I was nothing but a comfort girl to him.

It was all one sided to begin with.

Hands in intimate places. Heavy kissing in the back seat.

There was never affection. Just lust.

And yet he never tried to join us together.

But I still feel like he owns me.

I'm not a pet. I'm not a doll.

Lucy takes my silence as a correct assumption of 'Yeah, that bastard fucked me up in the long run.'

"As far as I can tell, you don't have a string of fate attaching you to him. Love is who we entrust our hearts to. Whether they break it or nourish it has nothing to do with how you take care of it."

Something inside suddenly clicks.

I stub out the butt of my cigarette, even though it's already burned to the filter.

The bell is ringing.

All the students who have been eating inside are loudly making their way back into the building.

I feel Lucy wrap her arms around me in a hug. "You're so stubborn Emily."

I can't come to terms with feeling anything but self loathing for myself, but there is still someone who can give me back a shred of humanity.

Kid

I don't blame Emily for smoking up on this balcony. It truly is quite a breath taking and relaxing view of Death City.

However, my current attention is focused on my hand. And for once, surprisingly, I'm not lamenting on the lack of symmetry of the extremity.

No, I'm thinking of how perfectly Emily's hand fit into mine. Our fingers laced and our palms cozy against each other, we fit together like two puzzle pieces.

Perfectly balanced.

Her hands are soft, but the calluses on her fingers and the inside of her palms are badges of honor to her hard work as an axe meister.

But that's probably about as close we're ever going to get.

My dreams are merely dreams. There is no basis for them in reality. I'm well qualified to write a sonnet about her, the unattainable woman.

But like her hand in mine this morning, it's going to be hard to let go.

Suddenly, I hear the sound of heels clicking close by behind me.

"Don't tell me you're upsetting yourself over having five fingers on each hand and not eight."

I turn around.

She's here. And she's smiling.

Somehow, I manage to shake my head that no, I am most certainly not being overcome by my compulsive tendencies.

Emily's red lips are still pulled up into a smile as she walks over to my side, leaning back against the railing I've rested my elbows on to take in the overlook of Death City, watching silently as students filter out of the building to head home.

She's so beautiful when she smiles that it hearts my heart.

"I guess that no matter what I do you're involved in this godforsaken mess now, huh?"

Our eyes meet.

"I suppose I am, yes," I stick my hands in the pockets of my trousers. "You don't have to worry, Maka, Black Star, and myself are really quite the unbeatable team."

Emily pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her expression going lachrymose once again. "That's not exactly why I am worried about you getting involved."

She brushes a few locks of hair over her shoulder. "Can Grim Reapers…well…can they… can you die?"

I feel something of a chill run down my spine as she looks quickly away, her shoulders slouching from the built up question.

I near myself closer to her, and I'm happy she doesn't flinch away or stiffen when I place my hand on her elbow. "Everything is fated to die. Human, witches, reapers, whatever the hell Blair is," I find my thumb rubbing soothing circles into the crease of Emily's elbow, from which I stop the instant I realize I'm doing it. "N-nothing in the world is immortal, my father included."

There's a distinctive difference between 'immortal' and 'impervious to age'. My father did quite nearly die the night Asura attacked.

I remember one of my favorite poems. Holy Sonnet 10.

"One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die."

Emily stiffens under my hand. She turns her head back towards me, her lips parted and her copper eyes wide. "John Donne…you like poetry?"

I never was a boy who liked to rough house or engage in various tomfoolery. "Well, I do enjoy reading in general. At Gallows Manor I have a vast library with quite an abundant collection of Romantic prose. I pride myself for keeping cultured."

She nods, her eyes twinkling with interest. "Lucy and I used to go over each other's houses and act out Poe's poems and ready other Romantic works," She's smiling again at the memory, her eyes looking away again to glance at the past. "It reminds me that I still have her copy of Ariel to give back to her."

She always did strike me as a Sylvia Plath kind of girl.

"Of course, you probably know I'm not here to talk to you about poetry…"

I can't help going rigid.

We never did finish the conversation in her kitchen this morning. I've been waiting for an answer all day.

I glance down briefly at my hand; The hand that will only be touching her hand and nothing else.

"Well, I was going to say no."

My stomach tightens.

Yet, she is still talking.

"But then Miss Empathy woke up from her coma and gave me a talking to during lunch," She leans her cheek against the heel of her hand. "Girl talk works wonder, it's really quite amazing."

I reply with an expression of befuddlement. "What are you saying?"

And she's smiling again.

"That I've been a real drag lately. And I wouldn't mind being your date."

My cheeks flush hot. "Wh-what made you change your mind?"

Emily's eyes close half lidded. "Well, I did a lot of thinking in class. And I came to the conclusion that I find your obsession with symmetry to be really fucking annoying and your dedicated interest in my personal life bordering on bratty. However, I also realized you're noble, clever, charitable, kind, and your bad boy façade is thankfully skin deep."

My hand empty hand is suddenly filled with the warmth I've been missing since this morning.

Before I have time to process everything, Emily has pulled me close to her face.

I can count her eyelashes.

I can feeling her breath dew on my face.

I can smell the soft, flowery perfume of her hair.

I can feel her symmetrical breasts pushed up against my chest.

And now I feel her lips pressing against mine, timid at first and then hard pressed and needy.

She tastes so sweet and soft as she opens her mouth against mine and we're finally balanced.

It's times like this when I wonder what I did to deserve such goodness.

Somewhere Outside of Las Vegas

The Death Scythe smiled.

He had always considered himself a faithful proselyte of his beliefs. Working as a priest was one of the few things that gave him pleasure. However, he has always doubted whether or not he was following the will of a true god.

It was when he fought the autonomous chainsaw that he realized that he had been following the wrong path.

The true creed was madness.

The man in the hat flipped the pages of the book, briefly eying the fish tank on the other side of the room every so often.

She was going to be beautiful.

With every innocent soul of a runaway or drifter, somebody that no one would realize was missing, their Goddess became stronger.

Her hands had formed. Her face had developed. Her legs were still shriveled up like a fetus, but within a few weeks, she would no longer have to be carried around in a tank anymore.

The Goddess couldn't talk yet, but they all knew what she was saying. She spoke to them in their heads.

In another room of the abandoned love motel they had been occupying since deserting that crap military hospital, a boy was closely analyzing a set of manuscripts written in the language of witches.

He pricked his fingers with glee, smudging the bloodied tips into a Petri dish to put under a microscope.

As he compared the dish with the fresh sample of the Goddess' blood, he grinned.

Power, destruction, death, rebirth, genesis.

The idiotic small one may have screwed up kidnapping the Wallace girl, but that only meant things would be easier.

It was fairly obvious she had gone to Death City to return to Valentine.

Two gems in one location. Easy.

The Goddess told them of Valentine's progress. The blood bond was their tie to the girl. They were like the mafia. Once you're a part of them, the only way you will ever leave is in a body bag.

The boy's lust grew strong as he thought of how she had struggled against him when he pushed the syringe into her vein.

He collected memories as trophies.

She was a foolish girl from the start. The red head was far too concerned with doing good that she took any opportunity to prove herself.

That's the secret to attaining power; Find the weakness and put a choke hold on it.

At the memory of how easy it was to squeeze the air out of her neck, he felt his manhood twitch.

He missed his plaything.

No, not love. The lust for power over someone was what excited him to no end.

The Goddess had spoke of her involvement with the Reaper boy.

What a needy slut.

He would never make her feel anything like he did.

It was only a matter of time before their Goddess would be ready.

All according to the book.

Then it would be time to strike for BREW and take back what was rightfully theirs.

The girl who was rightfully his.

They would be unstoppable.

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the wait guys! Senioritis is killing me.

I figured it was time to stop beating around the bush and take the plunge. Or jump the shark again.

Playlist:

Only Girl (In the World) by Xiu Xiu

Wandering Star by Portishead

Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey

The Sound of Forgetting by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross (From The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo)

Post Blue by Placebo

For any of you who are Persona 4 fans, I plan on posting a Kanji/Naoto series of drabbles in the coming weeks! Be on the lookout for that!

Read and review loves!

Nicole