Warning: A bit more violent than what I usually do. Suggestive themes towards the end, and very AU with -I believe- some OOC parts. Still, good reading~
"Love, I'm going out for an emergency call back in the Library. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Good luck, darling! We'll be waiting."
That had been before the raid began. She had kissed her husband goodbye and he'd left like any other day. Their little two-year-old was at the table with a friend of his, eating their lunches beside the redheaded mother when he had left. No one had suspected. No one had seen it coming, but the Raiders were soon upon them.
The clashing of Death Scythes resonated over the town, drowning the battle cries of the Reapers defending their homes. They were larger in number, but the Raiders had one advantage; they had the Originals. Those were the most powerful Reapers, and they did not have any pity. They attacked relentlessly; by the end of the hour, they had taken the southern quarter of the Great Library, and were moving into the Central Offices. Any Reaper strongly against the Originals perished, and David Knox, Supervisor of the United Kingdom Dispatch was no exception.
"Ronald, Alan! Get to the basement, hide there and no matter what, do not come out!" The redhead pushed the two tots past the door, locking it from the outside for good measure. Confused, wanting nothing more than their mother's comfort, they cried. "Come Ronnie, Miss Grell said to hide. Hurry!" The four year old brunette pulled on the younger toddler's hand. They went down the stairs, tears spilling from their eyes as they searched for a good place to hide.
On the floor above, Grell had just finished hiding herself in a linen closet, keeping the door open just a smidge, so she'd be able to hear the noise outside. It wasn't long before heavy footsteps were heard entering through the main door. They echoed down the hall, and she stopped breathing. Closer and closer they came, joined by others. Her heart could not move, frozen in fear, yet it was like a tightly wound spring. Ready to attack at a moment's notice. A shadow passed by the door of where she hid, soon followed by a towering figure draped in black. He had silver-spun hair falling to his waist, and from his Death Scythe she knew, he was an Original.
He was flanked by other four Reapers, all of those wearing masks and goggles instead of glasses to correct their vision. Those were also covered in black, but she saw that they were of more modern generations. They certainly looked younger, their auras were also that much easier to read; and had no barriers over them as the silverette did.
The elder reaper made his way up the stairs with a pair of his men flanking him. When she knew that they were out of earshot, she silently slipped from her spot, slinking into the room beside the kitchen where the other two were in. She crept slowly, listening to them. The duo appeared to be registering her -her- kitchen. It simply wouldn't do, would it? With the grace of a feline, she pounced on the one nearest to her, covering his mouth and jabbing his neck sharply with the demoted Death Scythe. She grinned like the Cheshire, no one would as much as touch the kids if she had a say.
The Reaper bled, trying to call out for his partner, but failing miserably; the wound in his neck too fatal. He was dead within the minute, engulfed in a pool of blood. The redhead let him down, making not a sound. The other had not yet noticed, and she took full advantage of that, surprising him with a stab to the back, straight in his lungs. The man let a piercing scream, calling out for his partners on the top floor. It mattered not in the end, she stabbed him once more in his head, ending his life.
"Well, what have we here? I see someone was busy."
She let the man she was holding tumble to the floor with a steady thump. Turning around, she faced the Raider. Looming over her, he seemed about to swallow her lithe frame. He wore a black trench, with skin-tight pants and contrasting white collared shirt. He had thigh high strapped boots that seemed heavy, and thick silver bangs covered his eyes. Though that didn't mean she couldn't feel the wrath, the power emanating from his stare.
She drew her Scythe, this time making sure it was the red-engined chainsaw; making it roar as it was turned on. "Yes, but apparently I'm not done yet." It was so sudden, that the unfortunate blond Reaper was tackled to the ground with the mechanical device cutting into his torso. The others stepped out of the way as she butchered the downed Reaper, enjoying the sight of all the blood spilling forth.
"Search the lower floors, I sense another set of souls. Bring them alive."
No! Not there, please!
It was too late. The elder had heard sensed them; he was smirking. "Keeping secrets, are we?" She abandoned the corpse, taking on the ancient, her vision blurred red.
That was her first mistake. The Reaper that had followed the elder shot to the basement, barreling past the locked door. She tried to follow, but the one she had picked a fight with threw her over to the table, preventing her escape.
Downstairs, the two little toddlers hid, trembling in fear. One was in a hamper, covered by a pile of clothes the second one had thrown over him, while the brunette had slipped into a chest, near enough to the smallest of the duo. It was then that the Reaper came in hand, a sword Death Scythe at the ready. His eyes were piercing, and if not for his desire to live, little Ronald would've screamed.
But the Reaper found him. He took the hamper and held it upside down. He fell out of the basket, landing on his rump before being lifted by his assailant. The boy was thrown over the man's shoulders as he searched the place for the other soul his boss had mentioned. It wasn't long when a soft cry was heard from the chest at the foot of the bed. Smirking, the Reaper sheathed his Death Scythe, easily picking the wee boy by the scruff of his shirt and dragging him up the stairs to his higher up.
The scene above, no matter how much he called himself fearless, was one of utter horror. His partners lay cold and dead, covered in their own gore. Their eyes were open, begging pleas for mercy still etched on them. The silver Reaper and the redhead were jabbing and thrusting their Death Scythes in the other's direction, blocking and countering every move. They were so engrossed in their own fight, that they didn't notice him standing there with the children.
Or so it seemed. Both had noticed him enter the room, both knew he was there, but neither was willing to separate their concentration from the opponent. Not until the elder made an obvious glance to the subordinate.
"Kill them."
At that, the world seemed to stop for the redhead, she saw everything move too slowly, adrenaline pumping through her system. She viciously slashed her weapon in his face, splitting skin from the bottom right of his throat and across his face, ending above his left eye. He stumbled back in shock, cupping the wound, yet never dropping his Scythe.
She couldn't care less at the moment, and rushed to the children. The other held them up in defense - she wouldn't attack them. He was dumbfounded when she raised her weapon, the serrating teeth glinting in the setting sun and lowered it on his form. Caught off guard, he let the children fall to retrieve his sword, but it was a second too late. She had impaled the chainsaw into his chest, digging deeper and deeper, her thirst for blood unsatisfied by the rushing liquid that sputtered from his body. Her eyes burned, wild and crazed, dripping with acidic poison in her vibrant irises.
Her rage was redirected at the Reaper who had caused all this mess. Taking calculated steps, she ordered the younglings to seek refuge in another part of the house, while she dealt with the monster who had dared do this. They ran to the bathroom, locking themselves in.
Meanwhile, she went back to attacking the blinded Reaper. Somehow, he managed to barely escape her advances, countering every single one with a block. That was until she evaded one of his counter-attacks and sent him flying to the wall.
THUD!
The hit to her head resonated in her skull, making her sight splotch and go blurry. There was a jab to her neck and various more to her back, numbing her spine. She lost her balance, falling to the floor. The chainsaw was torn from her limped grasp, but not by the split-faced ancient. This was another Original come to his partner's rescue. She was hit once more, this time on her back, with a cane. She rolled from the impact, crashing with the counter. The cane was stabbed onto her stomach, knocking all the wind out. It was about to come down again, when the other spoke.
"Don't kill him yet. He's needed alive."
And then the world went black. Darkness enveloped her in its sweet embrace, taking her down, down, down. She spiraled in it, completely lost, until she heard nothing, saw nothing and felt nothing at all.
"Grab the children, knock 'em out." The silver-haired stood from his spot with the help of his saviour, a brown haired, mustached Reaper.
"Do we kill them?"
"Not now. They're our leverage."
"I'll take care of this. Kingsley, take Crevan to the medic's, get him patched up for our next move. You there, gather the boys and the redhead, keep them alive until you are ordered otherwise."
"Yes, sir!" They saluted, and there was sudden movement, everyone racing to complete their task. The brunette with white strands rubbed the bridge of his nose, walking next to Kingsley as he helped the Original to the medical ward.
"Honestly, Adrian. Why didn't you wait for someone - if not me?"
"You were taking too long, chap. They knew we were here."
"Still, look at what happened. Our plans were almost ruined!"
The other gave a weak laugh, despite his wound. "Almost is not losing. Remember I've been through worse, Anderson."
The other sighed. It was so like his friend to dismiss such matters with laughter. "I'll make sure everything's in order. You better be fine when I get back."
"Hehehehe~ Are you that worried about me, old friend? These were caused by a Death Scythe, it'll take some time, but I'll be alright." With a sigh, the mustached Reaper left them at the door, returning to the household to go over what must be done.
Grell stirred in her sleep, pain flooding her nerves. Whimpering in her sleep, she tossed herself to her husband's side. He would always embrace her, calming whatever may ail her. He would whisper sweet nothings until she stopped breathing and went back to a peaceful rest.
She curled to his side, and as expected he would lazily stretch his arm to encase her waist protectively. Snuggling deeper, his musky scent enveloped her.
Her eyes shot open.
She pushed back, the pain from before intensifying. Wide eyes stared at the Reaper laying beside her. He had been jostled awake from her rash movements, and now were observing her behind the curtain of bangs. She reached blindly for her glasses in a panic. Who was he? Why was he here? Where was David?
A dark chuckle came from the mysterious figure's lips, those curling into a grin. "Looking for these?" Slender hands held red-framed spectacles delicately by the chain. Without thinking, she jumped at him, but her right hand was jerked back by a thick chain, cuffing her to the pole connecting the two bedposts, in turn stopping her body, twisting it agonizingly. The mad laughter was back. He was making fun of her, how humiliating to be tied to one's own bed, with no way to release oneself and at the complete mercy of another being.
She recognized the silver hair and the maniac voice. It was the Original who had ordered to kill her children. She growled, baring sharp, shark-like teeth at the intruder. He only flashed her a cocky smile, laying back on the bed and placing the frames on the nightstand. "No need for those now, go back to sleep, dear." He closed his eyes, settling back into a comfortable position.
She stood there for a while, wholly gobsmacked and infuriatingly confused. She would've thrown a fit it it were any other Reaper, but she knew she was nothing against an Original like him. Gritting her teeth, she decided to find out what was going on. She had to find her son and Alan.
A dark thought ran through her mind. No, they can't be dead! Please no! Desperately, she pulled on the chain, but they were made of iron, and did not yield. She searched frantically for the keys, her eyes catching a glint of something shiny next to where he'd placed her spectacles. 'Damn it!'
Sighing, she pushed herself to where he lay. He was on the very edge of the bed, so there was no way she could go over him without falling. She cursed under her breath. 'This is humiliating'. She swung her leg over his torso, placing it in the minimal space he had left of the mattress. Her right hand was tied, and oh surprise, it was to the right side that the keys and her glasses were placed.
Her left arm stretched, reaching for the little keys. He moved. She stilled. There was a pause in which she kept immobile. He settled and she sighed softly, reaching again.
Her fingers grazed the iron ring holding her escape. Almost there, just a little more!
The movement was so fast she only felt it when her hand was taken into his and pulled away. In the movement, his bangs were parted, and she stopped. His eyes were entrancing, glowing like a feline's, so bright and enchanting. They were different. They shone, they had something - she wasn't sure what- but they had it.
"I thought I told you to go back to sleep." He whispered, a hidden menace in his voice. The hand not holding onto her own fell on her hip, tracing down to her thigh. "Unless you're already feeling better, and are up to something else?" A smirk, irritatingly seductive, graced his now scarred features. She gasped, catching up to reality from her stupor.
Oxygen, though unneeded by their kind, seemed to lack in the air, there was no possible way to breathe. She had to get to the keys, she had to escape. He was holding her tightly, there was no way to get out unless she played his game.
Her face lowered to his, tentatively pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. There was a confounded gasp on his part, before snapping out of it and turning his face, placing his lips on hers. It was her turn to be surprised, but she played it well, noticing that his grip was slacking. She kept kissing him as his hands finally let hers free, opting to cup her cheeks. His eyes shut in bliss, and she took her chance.
Her mouth left his, fluttering kisses being spilt onto his neck. Something akin to purrs escaped his lips, reveling in the unexpected attention. In a flash, her teeth sank into the crook of his neck, drawing the so-adored red. He yelled in pain at the contact, gripping long strands of silky hair. She let go, twisting her body, taking the infernal keys in her hand. She pushed herself off of him, struggling to fit it into the lock. The other Reaper - none to pleased about the assault- pounced onto her, his weight pressing down on her and a tight grip on her free hand. She groaned at the feeling, the previous agony surfacing to the forefront of the mind.
"Tryin' to escape, little Red? It won't do you any good." He kissed her neck, sucking at certain spots to get her to gasp.
The door to the room swung open, revealing the Original that had saved the silverette. His usually stoic face turned red, his Reaper-eyes widening in embarrased astonishment. "A-Adrian!? What the hell are you-? Get off him!" The silver haired Reaper- apparently called Adrian, looked up to the other with a growl.
"What does it look like I was doing? What do you want now?" He was glaring daggers at his friend, blood still dripping from his neck. "Everything is done. And are you bleeding again!? Honestly, it's like looking after a child!" Lawrence came into the room, grabbed the collar of Adrian's shirt and pulled him off the redhead, making sure to tear away the iron keys from her grasp.
"Well, little Red, our encounter will sadly have to be postponed. Anderson here is a bit squeamish, we wouldn't want him to faint, would we?" He taunted, giggling in his lunatic way. Lawrence only tugged on the other's ear, earning a groan.
"I am not squeamish, nor would I faint. Apart from that, you need to take care David Knox's bloodline, the two children we've been holding hostage this week."
A week? Has it honestly been a week since the raid? Where is David? My baby! Where's my Ronnie? Ronnie, Alan!
"Where are they!? What have you done to them!?" She thrashed, willing the chains to break, yet to no avail. Low growls emitted from her throat in a feral manner. Both men swept their gazes towards her burning eyes. The one who had been laying next to her smirked lazily.
"Where are they? That's a good question indeed. Where may those Reaplings be, old chap?" He teased, turning to his friend. "Down in the dungeons of the Great Library, locked up." Tears welled up in Grell's face, cascading down her cheeks.
"NO! Let them go!" She roared, pulling onto the chain once more. At this, Adrian's smirk increased tenfold. "Why would I? They are my enemy's kin, I shan't let them live." Incessantly, she struggled, twisting, turning and pulling. "I'm taking over, didn't you know? There is no Alpha male anymore, I run this place now, lovely." He chuckled at her helpless expression.
"I'll grant you a last look at them, because I'm feeling nice this time." He took the keys from a shocked Lawrence, gliding over to her and placing his index finger over her parted, bloodied lips.
"Just promise me to behave, and I might even let you say goodbye."
The cuff was finally unlocked. She was free.
O.o First time I try something like this… I'm quite surprised that this came up in my mind. It started when I was watching a documentary on monkeys (?). Rivaling clans will invade the other's territory; if the invading bachelor's win, they get the females and kill the previous' male's offspring. I don't know how I connected that to this...but alright. It works for me. This is not finished -yet! It will be an arc, but I'm not sure how long it'll be.
Also, Kuro's new chapter is out and OMGGG I need more!
*Ahem* Back to the fic, I hope you enjoyed it! I'm open for ideas for this one, as well as for other prompts.
:) Silver Shadowstorm