A Sorcerer Hunters fanfic – Green with Evil
Written by WDCain Man
Disclaimer: Sorcerer Hunters is copyright by A.D. Vision while the Green Goblin is owned by Marvel Comics. There are numerous other characters presented here from other stories. None of these characters are used with permission. "Let it Be" was created by the Beatles and is owned by Michael Jackson. It was also used without permission.
A sad story here. This is the funeral story where all the Hunters deal with Carrot's "death". Now, there are two stories that I consider the best examples of funeral and grief fanfics. The first is "Heavier than a Mountain" by Jan Story and Dragon Trainer's "Fall Into Darkness". These two fanfics are the pinnacle of all grief fanfiction. I can only hope this chapter here will not take what I have learned from them and be ruined. So tell me what you think in your reviews.
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Green With Evil
Chapter Eleven:
Funeral for a Friend
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Tira puckered her lips while sipping her tea. So sweet. "Ah delicious. I almost wish Carrot was here to enjoy this."
Chocolate smirked, her eyes shining like a mischievous cat. "Almost being the key word, right Tira?"
"Right sis."
"You got that right." The strong man of the team, Gateau Mocha, snorted. He waited a moment for the younger brother to comment but Marron remained silent. Gateau looked to his right to find the most bishonen of them all sitting in quiet meditation. Since the girls and Gateau decided to leave Carrot in the "care" of the sadistic hospital staff, Marron had remained silent. "You think so too, right Marron?"
Sitting with perfect posture, eyes closed, a moment passed before Marron finally spoke. "It is time my brother grows up." And that was that. Marron said nothing else.
An act that disturbed Gateau even more than Marron's silence. While he and the Misu sisters would joke about what was happening to Carrot, Marron acted detached, formal, like an exceptional who believed him to be simply doing his job.
This frightened Gateau.
Very much.
The strongest Hunter paused, trying to choose what to say.
But that was when everything went to hell.
Marron's eyes snapped open, a sign of the aura of the landscape changing dangerously. Before he could yell a word of warning, the hospital erupted in a fiery-nay hellish-cataclysm. The eruption ravaged the ground, removing the hospital from land, plunging into the deep ocean below. The hellfire tore through the night, bringing forth a horrifying dawn that would herald the start of a new and crueler life for the Hunters.
"CARROT!" "DARLING!" "BROTHER!" screamed Tira, Chocolate, and Marron. Gateau made no sound, instead staring into the dismal explosion that consumed all. The three leapt from their chairs and rushed towards the inferno, leaving behind Gateau who watched silently, his eyes brimming with tears.
And as the first ones streak down his cheeks, he at last whispers "Not again… first Opera and now Carrot… Is this why I came back to the Hunters? To feel more pain?"
The magnitude of the explosion, the height of the fire, the large wreckage falling into the ocean were all Gateau needed to know that charging ahead to look through the debris was pointless.
Knowledge not shared by his teammates.
Marron pulled out an ofuda and blasted away in a maddening assault. If Carrot was still alive in there, he would absorb the magic and transform into his stronger beast-form.
If he…if he ifhe ifheifheIFHEIFHE!
Marron screamed as he fired his twelfth consecutive blast.
The magic's glare reflected off Tira's glasses as she watched for Carrot's beast-form to emerge from the inferno.
He didn't.
And with desperate realization, Tira knew Carrot was not buried under the debris of what remained of the hospital. The ocean was where he had to be.
Tira lounged in a dive, praying she would find him beneath the currents. But as she elevated off the ground, Chocolate grabbed her in desperate hold, pressing her arm against Tira's chest, knowing she could not survive the raging waters below. "Tira! NO!"
And like an animal threatened with the loss of her mate, Tira sank her teeth into the arm that kept her from acting, growling more animal than woman, tasting copper as blood filled her mouth.
And so time was locked in a repeating loop for an hour with Marron blasting the hospital debris with maddening hope, Tira foaming at her mouth as she struggled to escape and plunge into the inky blackness, Chocolate crying from her own heart-ache and Tira's hateful cries. The only one silent through this ordeal was Gateau, who had not moved and had not spoken since.
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The night turns to day, but the world of the Sorcerer Hunters is still dark.
At a restaurant in the city, a waitress brought a menu to the bishonen looking man with purple hair sitting by the counter. But while his handsome face caught everyone's notice, it was his sad lavender eyes that told them to leave. This was a man in mourning.
Mille Feuille didn't even bother to read the menu. "I'll just have coffee," he spoke dejectedly, exhaustion and sadness attached to every word.
"Sure thing, sugah. I'll be right back with it."
Mille paid her no heed as she left. But while his heart ached from the previous night's tragedy, his training as a Haz Knight was not dulled. His razor-sharp senses picked up on the mirth and celebrating atmosphere of the diner.
"…didja hear about the hospital?"
"…yeah man, the bitches finally bought it…"
"…hope they burn in hell…"
"…same here, remember what they did to my uncle?"
"…ah hear there's going to be a party at the rec-hall…"
"…shame about that guy they were cutting up…"
"…poor fellow was just at the wrong place at the wrong time…"
"…but at least those two nut jobs finally bit the dust…"
"…the plus thing is that he won't have to live with what they did to him…"
"…it took my son four months before he'd finally go to another hospital…"
"…heard they found some of their pieces washed up on the shore…"
"…creeped my sis out when she saw that severed arm on the beach this morning…"
"…still no trace of the poor bastard they were slicing up though…"
"…the police say he must have been struggling and knocked some torch on something explosive…"
"…no way could he have survived…"
"…what's left of him is lying at the bottom of the ocean now…"
Mille Feuille finished the coffee and tipped the waitress before leaving. He had to meet with the Hunters and, console? yell? punish them? He did not know, but right now all he could do was excuse himself and leave the diner for some place quiet. Even a Haz Knight needs to grieve.
Had Mille Feuille stayed one minute longer, he would have heard a conversation that would have changed everything.
"…gawd I'm tired, some maniac was on my rooftop laughing like a bleaming nutzo last night…"
"…same here, I woke up to someone laughing like a clown from hell…"
"…me three, y'know funny but I remember hearing him laughing just as the hospital blew up…"
"…weird, maybe it was the guy they were cutting up…"
"…yeah, he could have escape and went nuts from their handiwork…"
"…makes sense to me…"
XXXXXXX
Mille eyes glanced off into the sky, marveling the sheer majesty of the vastness of the world. Proof of eternity, life never halts, never ends. It shall be the same five hundred years from now. Despite the death of someone he loved, the world keeps on going.
But while Mille's eyes touched the sky, Gateau's bore into the ground. Somber and unmoving, the cold and dank recesses of the earth were the ultimate end. The final undiscovered country of the world, the gateway to death, a journey no one returns from. Proof that all shall end.
Several moments passed the two stared at what was the physical manifestation of their views on life. In both did the two find consolation over their loss. Life would continue, forever flowing with the cool blue of the sky for Mille while Gateau could only sigh at the sad realization that all life dies and shall be buried in the earth.
Mille broke his reverence for the sky to face the downtrodden Hunter. "Why, Gateau? Why did you leave him in there? Didn't you know what they were doing to him?"
Gateau didn't look up. "We knew. We knew what he was going through and we knew that he was being tortured by those two she-devils. We knew everything but just didn't care." Gateau clinched his fists tightly, threatening to piece the skin and bleed. "We had gotten so…sick of Carrot's attitude and antics that we felt that this was just what he needed. We… felt that it was just. We just didn't know how it would end."
"No one does, only God Himself can see the future. All we can do is hope that we do the best we can and set up something better for the next generation." Mille's sage-like words echoed through Gateau but didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. "So how are the others taking this?"
Weary whispers and fatigued sighs, Gateau remembers the bitter memories. "Marron's been quiet about the whole thing. After he finally gave up on blasting the debris, he simply returned to his hotel room. The last I saw him he was meditating. Hasn't cried once."
"He will resolve his grief eventually. Now what of the sisters?"
A pained grimace shivered through Gateau's face. "Tira's been…more angry since it happened, mostly at Chocolate for stopping her at the cliff."
"It was over a three hundred foot drop from the cliff to the sea-line. If Chocolate hadn't, Tira would have broken every bone once she hit the water. She should be thankful."
Gateau couldn't respond. Seeing Tira so enraged, so wrathful, was something he would never forget. In a strange way, he was almost glad Carrot wasn't alive to see her like that. Such resentful ire was alien to so beautiful a face.
"And Chocolate? How is she?"
"Been crying in her room non-stop."
Mille Feuille felt oddly grateful that at least she was grieving normally. Chocolate had always been prone to such emotional outbursts, he worried she would have done something drastic. In that, he was thankful. But Gateau was a curious matter still. "And you? How have you been dealing with your teammate's death?"
"I'll survive. It's all I can do." He broke contact with the ground. "Now I got to go and check on Marron." His eyes then focused on the Haz Knight and what was found in them was exhaustion. "Mille Feuille? Can you go through Sorcerer Sludge's mansion and retrieve his forbidden magic to the Church? I'm…not in the mood to wrap up a mission right now."
Mille Feuille gave the slightest of nods. "I'll handle it, Gateau. You do what you need to do." He didn't hear the muscle man say any thanks; he wasn't expecting to. Of this moment, Gateau had more important matters to deal with than clean-up.
And after this, it would be time to make an official report to Big Mama.
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To the world's knowledge, the only remaining Glace child meditates in his quarters. Cross-legged and arms folded, no words nor sobs are heard. Soul of Steel was the counter force to the anarchy of turbulent emotions. Taught to him long ago in his training, it was the balance all sought after for mastery of Eastern Magic.
Eastern Magic is, by its nature, dangerous. The gargantuan power channeled is too much for a user's body to handle. In effect, the power must be channeled through objects that can contain the energies, for example ofuda. Once contained inside this mystic sheet, the user's skill comes into play. More forms and focuses are developed depending on the knowledge of the magician. The ofuda can be employed as a destructive explosive weapon, a deadly focal-point to emit a deadly light that kills all targets that come into contact with the hellish illumination, or form powerful defensive shields. Other more advance assaults include changing the ofuda into monstrous forms, such as the demonic Geki or the divine Phoenix, to attack the target.
However Easter Magic is not limited to combat measures alone. More subtle abilities can also be acquired. Instead of only emitting a destructive light, ofuda can be handled to interfere with the magiks inside another's body, causing disruptions, absorptions of magiks within, or to a permanent extent, seals. But positive applications to a body are also possible. A third light can be unleashed that bathes the target in healing magiks. Recovery rates increase to gargantuan magnitude, healing the body and saving the life of the target from even the most extreme injuries. Both offensive and defensive, both subtle and overt, both destructive and healing, Eastern Magic is a force to be reckoned with even if used by a novice.
Marron Glace is by far the most dangerous user of the style in generations. Not only does he excel at the school of magic, but so does he for all his schools. An immense intelligence, sharpened by years of schooling, well verse in intellectual matters ranging from liberal arts to the sciences; taken further by mastery of war and combat. While the martial arts do not reach to the extent of worlds of street fighters where warriors compete to become the king of fighters or test their tekken, focusing chi is not unknown to the Spooner Continent. Though none can channel their ki outside of their bodies, inner concentration is reachable but only for those who dedicate their lives to the art.
Marron Glace is one such person.
Not only proficient in archery and swordsmanship, Marron has been instructed in formidable martial art lessons. But while his area of expertise there is surpassed by Gateau Moche, ki focusing is how Marron excels over his fellow Hunter. Having reached a frightening level of self-control years ago, Marron has always been a warrior to both fear and respect by both enemies and allies for his demeanor is always precise and controlled.
But now his control waves and falters.
Marron Glace, the youngest of the brothers, felt old for the first time in his life. The confidence that strengthened him through life was gone. His strength did not come from his mastery of Eastern Magic. It did not come from his genius level intelligence nor did it come from his intense skill.
No, the source was his brother. Ever since they were both children his brother always watched over him, protected him from bullies and any danger. Carrot kept the nightmares away. And as Marron reached maturity (something Carrot never could), it became his dream to protect him; to make his life the happiest possible. No matter how deviant a lifestyle he chose, if it made Carrot happy, he was happy. Even if Carrot talked some girls to form a harem with him, even if he broke the Misu sisters' hearts, even if he betrayed the Hunters, Marron would help him in every way possible.
But now his dream was gone.
Gone by a stupid death. It wasn't the death of heroes, of legends, there was no glory to be found there. There would be no stories sung. It was nothing but an accident, nothing but a senseless, even comical, accident. He blew himself up after getting operating on by sexy nurses. He was the biggest joke in the village. Sniping comments and snickering jabs were gleefully passed off from the local pub to the training center.
Carrot was known as the 'damn lucky idiot' to the Hunters. With nearly no training in combat, swordsmanship, or even basic strategy, how Carrot was able to keep coming back mission after mission was attributed to dumb luck.
But luck couldn't last forever.
And that is why so few would turn out for his brother's funeral.
The Sorcerer Hunters, despite slander from the Empire, were warriors of honor. To fight fiercely until death takes hold on a mission is a high mark of honor, and worthy of having many sects of Hunters attend their funeral. Even aged warriors, far pass their prime, who die in their sleep, receive grand funerals as nearly all Hunters and Knights attend to pay tribute for a lifetime of duty and honor. But to die like Carrot, not on a mission but in such an embarrassing way was a mark of dishonor and even humiliation.
"But who gives a damn then?" Marron muttered, feeling old-very old-at that moment.
He had outlived his older brother.
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Four hours pass…
Within the celestial church, illuminated by the sacred light of saintly stars, Mille Feuille stood before his goddess, his saint, the one he proudly calls "Mother, I am ready to report on the incident that took place."
The Holy Mother of the Spooner Continent, she who protects those who could not protect themselves, Big Mama, was silent. Her ruby-like eyes dulled as an ache harmed her heart.
"Sorcerer Sludge was dwelt with but all his research was gone. The entire lab was picked clean as was the rest of the manor. With so much being gone is so short of time, I estimate many needed for this endeavor. It may have been soldiers from the Empire or it could have been locals who simply wanted to sell it back to them. It's not the first time the townsfolk decided to raid a Sorcerer's keep for any riches. Finding the ones who only stole the mystic chemistry shall be difficult."
Acting with his cold and efficient mannerism of a Haz Knight, Mille pulled out a small notebook and read his private notes, anything to avoid showing the pain he felt. "There are numerous ways out of the city, both legal and illegal. There is a developing shipping company by the shore that could have been used to transport the research and then there is the train yard. And those are only the legal ways of transport." The Haz Knight put the notes away and bowed, tragedy brewing as he struggled to remain in control. "I'm sorry I failed you."
Gentle fingertips flickered across Mille Feuille face, like feathers from the wings of angels. "You do not need forgiveness, Mille Feuille. You have made no error and I thank you for having the strength to carry on with our loss."
Mille felt warm. "Thank you, mother." And in a puff of pink smoke, he was gone.
But there was no silence there to ease Big Mama's turbulent soul. There were only quivering sobs from on high.
"You do not need to hide, Dota," Big Mama beckons caringly as any mother would to her crying child.
With fluttering wings and shimmering sobs, Dota flew to the ground and collapsed, rolling into a ball. "Oh Mama, he can't be gone! He can't! I don't want him gone!"
"I know child, I know." She ushered over to the grieving girl and brushed the hair out of her glossy eyes. "But all we can do is take to heart the memories he left us and learn the lessons from his death. Do you understand, Dota?" Big Mama drew closer and whispered "It never matter how we die, but how we live. Carrot taught us this, so please never forget it." A tear brimmed in her eyes. "Or him."
And what followed was Dota's hysterical crying.
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Days later at Mt. Saint Hordic Village and two hours before a fallen Hunter's funeral…
Onion Glace stared at his reflection in the mirror his departed wife tricked him into buying a decade ago. He did his best to push away her lovely image for the time being.
He had to bury a different loved one now.
"So long, little Carrot. We sure had a blast together, but one of us had to go. Too bad it was you, my little dumb lucky idiot." In all honesty, Onion was amazed that his son, 'the dumb lucky idiot', had lasted so long. Because of Big Mama's instructions to send the boy only through remedial training, it seemed insane that he could survive so many missions.
But he did, like a true Hunter.
Facing danger on a daily basis and coming back home alive was a task all Hunters dwelt with, but only with Carrot did one do so with limited training. The other Hunters, all highly skilled, passed it off as the dumb luck of the idiot.
"Got it from his old man," he jolly joked as he checked his reflection again. Apricot was right, he did look dashing in black. No doubt he would the closest one to Carrot who wouldn't weep at the funeral. Only those closest to his family would attend. Onion didn't expect many, twelve at most. No real reason to complain. "But so help me God, if I hear any more words that dishonor his name like those slackers at the bar, there will be more funerals preparations," he smirked venomously. Last night he went to a bar in a pathetic attempt to drink his sorrows away and heard three junior Hunters snickering about Carrot's death.
Those three boys won't be field-ready for another four months.
Onion's ears perked as someone knocked on his door. "Door's open!"
Mille Feuille entered, dressed in his form-fitting attire he wears oh so frequently. But the catty smirk he normally dawns is gone, replaced with blue sadness. He looked as though he had been crying. It amazed Onion that Mille Feuille, the most dangerous Haz Knight, was the most gentle of them all.
"Decided to get it all out before the funeral, huh?" Onion joked quietly.
Mille nodded, a strange knot forming in his stomach. "Yes, I always felt it improper to cry at funerals or in public at all. But you…you Onion, you see as much death as I, you have faced the same wars as I, and yet you deal with every loss in a detached professional manner. Even now that we are about ready to bury your son, I have yet seen you shed one tear. How do you do it?"
Onion gave a wistful smile. "Mille my friend, it's because I learned something long, long ago, something that has kept me in such good cheer through most of my life. And I'll share this secret with you right now." Mille leaned closer in, and Onion whispered. "I…quit…the…goddamn…whining."
Mille Feuille blinked and leaned back, looking abruptly shaken up.
Onion smiled softly. "Yes, Mille. I shut it all out because after a while of seeing the same negativity day in and day out and dealing with the heart-ache it brings, you get to realize something real important. If you keep hanging on to the past for too long, it gets a hold on you and keeps you from moving on. So take it from me: Grieve, sure, but not forever. Sometimes shit happens that you've got no control over. So grieve then move on, and screw the rest by acting like a jackass. Carrot took that lesson to heart." Onion sighed and shook his head. "Boy, I could use some scotch right now. But that'll have to wait for the wake, I guess. Can't show disrespect by getting sloshed as we bury my boy, huh? You want to share one with me later though?"
Mille shook his head no, feeling rather ill at the moment.
At that, Onion placed his hand on Mille's shoulder and squeezed, meeting his eyes and showing all his wisdom. "And something else, Mille my friend, even though you can shut it out…sometimes you just don't want to."
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Carrot's funeral ended quickly. Only fourteen people showed to pay their respects.
Chocolate wailed her tiny little lungs out as did Dota beside her. Both girls' hearts cried out with sorrow. Each for not forming the relation they wanted with Carrot.
On the other hand, Tira appeared annoyed and frustrated. Like a city-person stranded in a muggy swamp, everything here disgusted her.
Grandfather Glace stood quiet, his eyes drawn inexorably to the grave. He knew Carrot would be different when he was three years old. Carrot had a wisdom that told him he did not need to be wise to live life. He was so much like Onion in that respect. And he never even told him so…
Mille Feuille shed a single tear during Big Mama's eulogy. The deity's crimson eyes shined with sad light as she spoke, her heavenly words giving the oldest Glace child praise. Further back into the room were key Haz Knights in their armor. Their presence alone was a high honor.
But honor always fell behind love.
Gateau bowed his head, the only honor he could give. His knuckles were bruised and soared. The strongman had had a rough twenty-four hours of tears and grinding his fists while Marron…
He had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed at Carrot's tombstone, and a scowl worthy of a true Sorcerer Hunter etched on his face…
But if one looked closer he could see that his hands are trembling, his eyes are painfully red, and his scowl was probably more to keep himself from crying than anything…
He looked…broken…
Between Marron and Gateau, Onion stood, his face stoically free of emotion.
He has an advantage over Marron and the others.
He's Carrot's father.
In his eyes, Carrot lived his life the way he wanted to. Making sure to make every moment count, regardless of who he pissed off. But regardless, he never sacrificed another's joy for his own, nor did he demand others to do the same for him. He treated others the way he wanted to be treated. And knowing that is how Onion kept from crying while burying his first born.
With no body present, some of Carrot's belongings would be buried. An old outfit, some childhood toys and his sword, the only item recovered from the hospital ruins. The one thing he never used was the only thing found. Even though he never drew it for battle, never was he seen without it. Onion pondered how it seemed to reflect the most of his departed son. Carrot was never one for fighting, as was the sword; but he was always there. Present. Without being in the fight, he always carried his load with his support. Like a guardian angel, always there, always helping, never noticeable.
The very reason why Onion chose an angel statue as the headstone. Knee-high and made of sturdy limestone, its child-like features were without flaw. Cupid-like, the baby angel looked out with dreaming eyes, seeing endless joy in the world. It was Carrot in every way. At its feet were the words Onion chose carefully, after all these words must describe his son best.
Carrot Glace
No Guts, No Brains
But What a Loving Heart
Perfect. Onion couldn't have picked anything better. Never more than now did he feel that all was right. It couldn't get any better.
But that was when Mille Feuille smiled softly, care and affection rolling off him. A guitar was pulled out from behind him. His fingers flicked the strings, sending a pleasant vibration ringing through the air. "It was difficult to choose the right song that would fit Carrot's life. He was a mass of contradictions. He acted cowardly but was the bravest of us all. He seemed weak but was stronger than even Gateau. Huh, he was on a never ending hormone babe-hunt yet was so kind and gentle." Mille paused to wipe a tear away. "It was then that I realized that Carrot was like that because of his family. He did everything for those he loved; and so wouldn't want his funeral song to be about him but rather be for his loved ones. So this song I picked to help us manage with Carrot's strength." As he plucked the first string, he sung with the voice of angels.
[When I find myself in times of trouble]
[Mother Mary comes to me]
[Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.]
[And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me]
[Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.]
[Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be,]
[Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.]
Marron eyes roll and enable him to see Mille, noticing him for the first time. Everything else seemed out of focus for him, like lost in a fog. There was no straight path to take, a step in any way wouldn't take him anywhere. It would be best to stay still and never leave the dark. And as the morbidity takes a hold of Marron Glace, he starts listening to the song.
[And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree]
[There will be an answer, let it be.]
[And though they may be parted]
[There is still a chance that they will see.]
[There will be an answer, let it be.]
[Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.]
[There will be an answer, let it be.]
[Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.]
[Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.]
Marron blinks as gloomy fog-clouds engulfing his mind are suddenly blown away. He sees the times a younger Carrot reassures his crying little brother that it'll be alright. No matter the tragedy, Carrot would always swear that there would be no sad ending, just rough spots that needed to be passed over to reach the shining happiness. Staying still in misery never helps anyone. The answer's simple: Move on and let sadness be.
[Let it be, let it be, let it be, Yeah let it be.]
[Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.]
[And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light]
[That shines on me.]
[Shine until tomorrow, let it be.]
[I wake up to the sound of music]
[Mother Mary comes to me.]
[Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.]
Marron can't help but smile as he at lasts understands how his brother could always see pass the troubles of today and find the joys of tomorrow. It was nothing complicated such as achieving some perfect balance of the soul, but rather just looking forward to all that tomorrow had to offer.
[Let it be, let it be, let it be, Yeah let it be.]
[There will be an answer, let it be.]
[Let it be, let it be, let it be, Yeah let it be.]
[Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.]
"Words of wisdom indeed," Marron whispered sincerely. "Thank you for helping me one last time, my beautiful brother." The bishonen looking brother pauses as he feels something cold splash across his cheek and realizes he is lost no more.
Once Mille Feuille finishes, Marron's eyes meet his and a message is passed between them. They now truly understand Carrot and knew how to carry the burden the way he would want them.
But one woman didn't.
XXXXXXX
Hours later, after Carrot's funeral had ended and the others dispersed.
Marron had left with his father to discuss future plans
Gateau decided to go on a walk to clear his mind and would meet Mille Feuille on his way.
Chocolate was locked in her room. She still hadn't stopped crying.
But Tira…Tira was feeling a rage she had never felt before and would not let go, holding on to the seething hatred like a lifeline. It was the only thing that could keep her adrift, poisoning her soul in the process.
She laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling. "…it's all your fault, Carrot," she grumbled, refusing to take any blame. "You could have just loved me but nooOOOoo, you had to chase anything in a skirt. You're just like all men, you deserved it."
But no matter how she justified it, the fact remained that everywhere in Mt. Saint Hordic Village she went, the guys stared at her. She heard their gossip, calling her a selfish slut and mental. Well, those animals can go to hell! Men didn't know what it was like being a woman, all they cared about was finding a new bang for the night. "Dirty little beasts, you all only manipulate any woman dumb enough to trust you while you suck us dry. Dirty brainless beasts, they just want someone to rape."
Enemies, the word flashed through her rage-clouded mind. Men are the enemies of women. Like the filthy animals that graze the world, leaving the nurturing green died and rotting.
"They're the beasts, we're the plants. We give life and they just leech." Like parasites, men slowly sucked the soul from women, leaving behind an empty shell. Just look what Carrot had done to her sister. Chocolate was still locked in her room crying over the dead fool. Doesn't she realize that it's Carrot's fault for her heart-ache? All he did was string them along, toying with their feelings while he prowled. Occasionally throwing them a bone to fool them into thinking they still had a chance. He laid them around like a dog on a leash.
"I'm not a DOG, not a BEAST, not an ANIMAL! A plant! I'm a plant!" Tira was beyond the point of grieving over Carrot. Sobs still seeped from her mouth but they weren't for the man who had had her heart. No, these went out for her sister. Chocolate still wouldn't free herself. She wouldn't allow herself to see how unworthy men were.
"Then I'll have to prove it to her."
Tira went to her closet and rummaged through her wardrobe.
XXXXXXX
Back at the Glace-household, father and son have a talk, but it differs from the others in the past. Not long ago, the discussion would be nothing but Onion being overly affectionate towards what would be a silent Marron. That had changed. The affection is still present but it is brought out in jolly jokes and quips. Both can be serious with the other but don't let it damper their spirits.
Family partings can be a real downer.
"A transfer?" Onion repeated, taking a sip of a mug of cider.
"Yes father, I wish to be transferred to the Far Eastern division sect and attend the Soga Clan of ninjetsu."
"Does this have something to do with that cutey ninja-girl, the one with the thing for you, Shicho?" Onion winked, eagerly awaiting his son to blush.
And found Marron's true reaction even more enjoyable. He smiled dumbly, much like how Carrot had. Onion's heart nearly melted. "Correct. I have received several letters over the past year offering a position there. Each was personally written by her. And I…want to go."
Before, Onion would have glomped Marron and cuddle him, hoping to jolt his boy into an outburst. But now, seeing Marron act with such freedom made him truly respect his son. "Then go. I'll drop by Big Mama's in the morning and tell her that. I can't think of a reason she'll say no. But before I let you go," Onion's voice dropped dangerously low. " This is real important, Marron. You need to promise me something." Onion leaned in closer, almost nose-to-nose. "Bring me back a grandchild."
Marron smiles. "If I do what Shicho keeps insisting in her letters, I will."
Onion couldn't help but smile back. The emotional restraints were gone and now Marron couldn't stop letting them loose. The controlled scowl he so frequently wore in the past was gone and would most likely never return.
His youngest son had just became a man.
XXXXXXX
Down the rode from the humble adobe of the Glaces, as father and son josh, Gateau Mocha walked underneath the moonlight. The local pub was abuzz with commotion and jolly humor, but he wasn't interested to be in such an enclosed space.
"The moon's enough for me." Gateau looked star ward and couldn't help but marvel the stars, twinkling there and lighting the pathway so he won't trip.
They reminded him of Carrot.
The strong man recalled all the previous missions and how Carrot always kept dark endings from transpiring.
He prevented Marron from killing Koh who only wanted to protect his sister.
He kept Chocolate from killing the misguided Lila.
He gave Tira the strength to take down the evil Amore by herself.
He even refused to kill Gateau to save Chocolate's life when Croissant told him to.
And how did they all repay him? They left him alone with two male-hating whores from hell.
"I'm damned," Gateau whispered harshly. "I'm damned to hell."
"No you're not," a consoling voice said. It was Mille. "You just made a mistake; you didn't know what would happen."
Gateau sighed, feeling exhausted. "Ignorance isn't an excuse. We gooked up and Carrot paid the price." A glimmer glistened in his eyes that had to be wiped away. "But Marron and the girls can't be blamed, just me. They didn't know how easy it is to lose a teammate like I do. It's easier than you think, Mille. All you have to do is do nothing. Just not be there and then they'll be gone for good. You think I would have learned my lesson with what happen to Opera. But no, I didn't learn a damn thing."
"Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it," quoth Mille. "And let me paraphrase something else Onion told me earlier: Buck up, Gateau! Just causing a folly doesn't make you some sick depraved fiend. You and the others are nothing like those lunatic doctors that killed Carrot. All y'all did was try and make him a better man."
Gateau sighed dully. "And everything we thought we'd done to him… roughing him up to try and toughen him up…yelling at him whenever he made a mistake…trying to teach him to go against instinct…to deny his feelings…all in the hope of making him better…they all seem so petty now. Hallow. They meant nothing. I regret it all, and this regret hurts."
"Life's lessons always are. All you can do is try your best like you did," Mille urged, hoping to relieve him. "And the fact that you and the others paid so much attention to him really made him feel better. He knew your hearts were all in the right place. That's why he loved you all so much."
With those resounding words, the burden that was too much to bare, was lightened. Though it would always remain, Gateau could carry it with the strength of others. "Thank you, Mille. That…that really helps."
Mille shrugged in that way that spoke 'think nothing of it' that every could do. "It wasn't a problem. I could do no less than for any good man."
Gateau cocked an eyebrow. "You still think I'm a good man? Why?"
Mille resisted the urge to pat his cheek. At times he is such a child. "The fact you need to ask that should answer your questions." He moves closer to stare into his eyes. "If you were as bad as you think you are, you wouldn't be acting thus. You're a good kid, Gateau. Be proud."
"Kid? KID?!" Gateau snarled, doing his damnest to keep from chortling. "Hey I'm no kid! I'm bigger than you!"
"That just makes me a shrimp," Mille smiled that enigmatic smile he always seems to have. "You're still just a kid."
Gateau swung closer and put Mille Feuille into a headlock. "I swear on Big Mama Herself, Mille, if you call me 'kid' one more time I'm going to wring your scrawny little neck!" Gateau cries. "So take that back!"
"Make me, kid!" Mille chirped, enjoying the feeling of Gateau's muscular arm around his neck.
"Oh ho! So that's what it's going to take!" He grinned devilishly and let loose with a dreaded noogie.
Putting Mille through a whole new level of happiness.
XXXXXXX
And whilst Mille and Gateau played like little boys out past their bedtime, a young woman grieved, unable to stop crying. Her cries echoed in her room, reverberating her wails of tragedy back at her, making her cry even more. Thus continued a vicious cycle that had lasted far too long. Grief had a washed Chocolate, flooding her being and drowning the cat-like person she was under a sea of tears. Always one to give into outbursts, her Darling was the only thing that kept her afloat. But with him gone, she was lost among the waves.
Chocolate's tears came unrestrained. They splashed on the black biker hat her darling gave her. It was all she had left of him, the only thing she could remember him by. Carrot didn't have many possessions (though that never kept his room from being in a constant mess). Marron was the pack-rat of the team. In his room he had hundreds of books detailing magiks, the arts of war, the such. Gateau kept numerous scrolls and books on the art, and the Misu sisters had an extensive wardrobe of…adult clothes and toys.
Both sisters were quite proud when they begun exploring their desires with the outfits and tools of S&M. It was how they proved they weren't children any longer. Marron had his studies and Gateau had his skills. They all felt so adult. How could they not be embarrassed by how Carrot acted. But he wasn't the childish one, they were. And they didn't realize that until it was too late.
Chocolate cried harder and curled into a ball. She felt alone, more awful than ever before. Carrot was dead and never coming back. All the pledges she made to marry him could never be fulfilled. Her goal of starting a family with him was dead. She couldn't think of a future without him.
She was lost.
And so Tira tried to led her down the wrong path.
"Hello big sister," Tira cooed softly, appearing by her bedside, dressed in her familiar red cloak and glasses. What was hidden beneath was fully hidden.
"Hello Tira," she sniffled. "Are you…alright?"
"Never been better," Tira said with a jolly smile.
"…what?" she whispered, horrified at the easiness of her sister's demeanor.
Tira stroked her cheek and wiped away the tears. "Listen to me, I've reached an epiphany. It helps put everything into perspective for me. It made me realize my path." She held out her hand. "Let me show you it. It'll make you feel better, promise. Just look what it did for me."
The calculating stare, the detachment from grief, the hidden hint of hate in her voice, Chocolate wasn't sure she wanted that.
"Do not worry sister," Tira spoke cajolingly. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Wh-where are we going?"
"To the pub!"
Chocolate's eyes watered, memories of Darling going there, not for drink, but to enjoy the festivities. She sent herself off into set of sobs which ended when Tira slapped her cheek. Hard.
"Don't cry over him," she hissed, eyes laced with fury. "I don't want to see you cry over a male any more." Then just as suddenly as the hate showed up, it disappeared. Tira returned to her softness that was considerate of her sister. "Now dry your eyes and put some makeup on over that so we can go. Trust me, I'll make everything all better."
And with a small choke, Chocolate nodded okay.
XXXXXXX
The Sorcerer Hunters Tavern was always a festive place where all the Hunter teams and elder warriors who had left the battle to retire gathered for drink and merriment. Here one can drink themselves into a stupor and need to be dragged back to their home, play billiards, cards or darts, and even sing on the karaoke machine. As the last resort of the Hunters, it was their clubhouse. A place where the cool calculating warriors walked in and stress-free jokers walked out. There carnival, a place where harden adults who grew up too fast can become irresponsible children again.
And horrifyingly, a parent's worst nightmare, a pedophile has walked in.
Every male patron stopped what they were doing and stared as who had to be the most appealing woman ever seen entered. Exotic pink eyes and ruby-red lips both glimmered in satisfaction of her own attractiveness. She knew what she had and knew that all the males wanted it. She walked with a bump-and-grind, her crimson-colored micro mini-skirt clung tightly with every step of her red high-heels. Her tank-top was dyed so dark a red that it was almost black, two sizes too small to hold in her bosom. The buxom Huntress strode into the pub like she owned it.
And for that moment, she did.
A young Hunter named Berry Punch, fresh out of training, looked her up and down lecherously. Ebon black hair and boyish looks, he is what most would call handsome. Dressed in a sleek black jumpsuit with an even darker fall jacket warn over, he is every bit tall, handsome, and mysterious. At first glance a ladies man, but the curl in his lip testified to a different man, one that was perverted and arrogant; one that lacked the gentleness of Carrot Glace. Like a shark in an ocean, he was a predator and prowler.
Fighting back a wolf-whistle that many other men did, Berry only flashed his lady-killing smile to the lady in red. She noticed and joined him at his table.
"May I sit here?" the scarlet asked in a honeyed tone.
"Go right ahead Miss…?"
"Misu," she whispered. "Tira Misu."
"The nerdy Dom?"
Faster than he could follow, she moved in and kissed him. Surprised, Berry wasn't able to use his tongue before she broke away. Tira meet his questioning look with one that promised more pleasure later. "Do you think I look nerdy now?"
"Na-not really no. But…uh, let me say just how sorry I am about your teammate's death. I've heard that-"
"He was a loser." She tickled his earlobe and moved closer, whispering in his ear. "And a dumb one. I offered myself to him but he kept turning me down. My sister did to, and he said no to this." She scooted closer, causing her breasts to jiggle delightfully. "He deserved what he got because he said no to me. Now yes or no, do you want to leave here for something…more pleasurable?"
"Yes." The reply was purely based on reflex. If Berry was thinking logically, he would have questioned the sudden change in the seductress's behavior. This wasn't a normal stage of grieving.
But to Tira's POV, he was acting as a typical male.
"Then follow me," she ushered to the exit, somewhere far from prying people.
"So where we going?" Berry asked, never taking his eyes off her sparkling eyes.
She answered without hesitation. "The graveyard."
"Oh, that'll be-guwhaa?"
XXXXXXX
Across the village, goodbyes were being said to the wind.
Gateau gazed over the village of Hunters under the moonlight, his eyes feeling misty not from grief for a change but out of remembrance. He may never see this town again. There were a lot of memories here, some good and some bad. Meeting Opera. Burying her. Flirting with Marron. Burying Carrot. The past could not be changed, but he could still strive for a better future by finding his sister.
"Are you ready Gateau?" Mille asked, adjusting his posture to hold his camping backpack.
"Yeah, I just hope Marron and the others will understand and not flip out when they get my letter." Gateau fixed his eyes on his new partner. "But are you sure about this, Mille? We can be gone for a long time."
Mille Feuille met his worrying eyes with his strength. "Listen Gateau, I don't care if it takes us years to find your sister. I made a promise to help you and time won't be a problem. I'll stand by you no matter what."
Gateau patted the Haz Knight's shoulder, his gesture for comradory. "Then let's get going buddy. My sister's waiting."
"And Zaha will be there ready to fight us." Mille smirked, brimming with confidence.
Gateau kiddy-punched Mille's shoulder. "And we'll kick his ass just the same."
And with a smirk sharing, the two friends head off in the dark. No matter what challenges they face or horrors they come up against, they'll handle it.
Together.
XXXXXXX
Berry eyed all the graves and could not ignore the tightening knot in his belly. Everything was in shadows with pale moonlight giving ghastly lighting. Inhumane shadows graced the plots. Twisted shapes shadowing the belongings of the dead. The stuff of nightmares written by shadows. Had Berry looked over, he would have taken notice of the same shadows on Tira's face, twisting her angelic features into something monstrous.
But with one step forward, the twisted darkness was gone and she returned to her gorgeous self. "Just a little longer, okay? Just a few more steps and we can…" she trailed off mischievously "…finally have some fun."
"So where are we going?"
"Right…here." She licked her lips. "This is the perfect spot."
Berry looked to where they were standing. It was at the foot of a freshly dug grave with a baby-angel statue. The inscription read…
He nearly gagged. Tira wanted to have sex here! On the grave of her last boyfriend! Oh god! Oh god oh god oh god oh god! What kind sick freak was she?
"Absolutely perfect." She snuggled closer. "Right here. Right now. Make love to me."
Grossly repulsed, Berry stepped back and readied to slap her but before he could Tira had him in a powerful hug, pushing her breasts against his chest and licking his earlobe. "Do me. Do me now. I want you sooOOOOooo bad," she purred.
All of a sudden, Berry didn't feel so grossed out. So she wants a little graveyard make-out. It's kind of kinky actually. "Sure, baby. But first…let me break out some toys." She reached behind her plump derrière and pulled out two sets of handcuffs. "Lie down on his plot, I'm going to handcuff you to his tombstone."
If Tira grossed him out before, she was positively repellent now. Like a cancer-patient, her decayness was seen in full light as if x-rayed. A twisted aura, warped by depravity, encased her flawless form. As good food with something rotten inside, one had to work past the perfect outside to find the badness inside. And found at the core of Tira was a sick depravity.
"I want to spite Carrot for all the times he turned me away. I want to desecrate him the worst way I can. Making love on his grave is sure to get his attention from hell." Tira said devilishly, picturing him screaming sorrowful cries as he watches her while withering in the flames.
Berry opened his mouth to reject her fully but quickly shut it when Tira patted his crotch, taking care to carefully stroke his manhood gently. "Oh hurry, hurry. Make me a woman. Berry, I want you. Do this for me. Show Carrot what he missed out on."
Genetic instinct took over Berry, much like how the male spider risks life mating with the black widow. He matched Tira's hopeful gaze and nods. "Then let's show that little worm that you're a woman."
Tira smiled coldly, her dominatrix attitude returning with changes. While acting like this before, Mistress Tira always maintained a playfulness except when angered. This was different. If Carrot had been there, he would have seen none of that there. In its stead was hate, cold and burning. "Lie down, hands by the headstone."
He obeyed.
She squatted down, her knees on each side of his chest, and took each hand and cuffed it to the base of the angel's back where the wings protruded. Berry's breathing picked up, making a goofy face that he smoothed out quickly.
Tira smiled and moved down, past the abdomen, and placed her hands on his knees and—
And then Berry threw his head back and screamed.
His body, churning with pain, thrashed wildly, his legs jerking sporadically as agony passed through them. His head snapped up, looking down he found both his knees bent at an angel they couldn't be naturally.
Tira broke his legs!
"Was it good for you?" she smirked.
Blocking out some of the pain, Berry opened wide to scream a set of curses when Tira blurred with a speed she had never been capable of before and stuffed a gag in his mouth.
Tira stood up, still over him but the sex-kitten facade was gone. Blazing eyes of hate fixed on him. "Come on out, sis! I want to see this!"
Chocolate stepped out from behind a tree. Her eyes were bloodshot and her makeup was running. If Berry's mind wasn't racked with pain, he would have been impressed that a grieving woman could be so stealthy that she could fully elude a trained ninja like himself. She was an excellent Hunter.
Too bad her sister is a psychopath.
"Do you see, sister? This…" she struggled to find the word "man wanted sex on a fellow Hunter's grave, a male, one of his kind." Tira spits on him, hating him as she hates all men. "The Brotherhood of Hunters indeed. Always watch out for each other, protect and respect. That's what they say but give them a chance and they're stab each other in the back. They're all the same," she hissed harshly, her face twisting into a mask of rage. "DECEITFUL. EVIL. VILE." A moment passes as Tira growls, more abhorrent of the male gender than any woman alive. But when she heard Chocolate whimper, she pulled the hate back in where it continues to fester. "But you know that now, right Chocolate?"
"But darling wasn't—"
"DARLING?! YOU'LL STILL THINKING ABOUT HIM?!" she furiously screamed. "HE'S A MALE! WORTHLESS EVIL MALES THAT NEED TO BE WIPED OUT!" She brandished her whip and lashed his throat. Then his face, his eyes, his abdomen, his genitals, each lash harder than the last one.
And as the sounds of leather smacking flesh and blood pouring out cut through the graveyard, Chocolate covered her ears and curled up into a ball.
Life wasn't meant to be like this. She was suppose to marry Carrot, have a mess of kids, help Marron and Tira find someone, and live happily ever after. That was her greatest dream. She didn't want life to be like this nightmare. She didn't want to let Carrot die, have Marron leave for a ninja camp, and watch her sister go insane! This isn't right! This isn't fair!
Life seldom is.
What happen to Carrot wasn't fair, but did he deserve it? He did ignore his family telling him to grow up, but did he deserve to be tortured for it?
Is the madness that affects Tira a just punishment for abandoning Carrot? And if so then why should Berry die at the hands of another male-hating psycho? It is because he has few scruples? And if not than why?
Why should Chocolate be hounded by Carrot's death while his brother is allowed to find happiness with Shicho?
How is it fair that Gateau who has now lost two partners be allowed to find a special friend in Mille Feuille?
And how is it fair that Carrot Glace, a man who devoted his entire life to helping his family who only looked down on him, has to go through what he did?
The answers to these questions will never be answered because there are no answers. Just as there are no answers as to why good men die young while evil ones live on, why politicians grow fat while poor children starve, why innocent men are executed on death-roll and guilty ones stroll free, there will be no answers for Chocolate.
And as the next few days pass, there will be more questions that go unanswered. Such as is it right that over two hundred people showed up for a degenerate like Berry's funeral and so few were there for Carrot's?
How could it be fair that only Tira was imprisoned for killing Berry and not Chocolate who stood by and let it happen?
Is it right that only Chocolate should deal with her sister's madness? Is it equitable that Marron and Gateau left before hearing the news of Tira's killing?
What type of impartial divine being would let Marron enjoy a new life at the Soga Ninja School and allow Gateau and Mille Feuille to leave on a long quest to help Eclair, and not permit Chocolate some measure of peace?
And why had the dark fortress of Ka'knee Kai Al attack the Church the day before Tira's execution?
XXXXXXX
Tira sat alone in her cell within the Stella Church, the cold walls reverberating her ire back to her. What she did to Berry, seducing him, torturing him to death, was one of the greatest sensations of her life. She didn't bother to run. Why should she? All she did was terminate a useless beast and taught her sister a valuable lesson about the holders of the x-chromosome. She only did what's right. After killing him, she left his bloody corpse on Carrot's grave, a sign to all men to respect their superiors. She had struck the first aggression against the male gender.
So how could Big Mama sentence her to die?
"Males," she whispered as a donning epiphany struck. "Petty greedy sick destroying males had done this to me and the weight of their sins will bring down the Stella Church! They told Big Mama that they would revolt if she didn't kill me." She felt compassion in her heart for the deluded goddess. "Oh Big Mama, why can't you see you don't need them? Forget the Hunters and form the Sorcerer Huntresses. OH! And Dota! Think of her, if you bow to men she'll believe it normal! If you-"
Her guard clanged his sword on the bars and looked in furiously. "Shut up in there!
Tira glared back, wanting desperately to kill him but her whip was confiscated when the Haz Knights broke into her room while she slept. She hadn't been expecting them, believing Big Mama would never issue her arrest. They dragged her to Mama's alter and cast her down at Her feet. The goddess looked down on her, proclaiming her to die in two days.
It was a blow against all women. Since then she had been confined to this tiny stone cell without any windows to the outside world.
To hell with an execution, cutting her off from sunlight would kill her for sure.
But she was not alone. Dota, pretty Dota, though unable to visit her, persuaded a guard to bring her a potted plant since she knew that Tira loved flowers so much. But also cut off from light, the little thing was already welting. Its once green stem was paler turning into a sickly yellow; and its white flowers were slowly curling up as dehydration sat in. The flower, known as the Zelkova, was dying. Like her hope in ending male oppression, both were nearing its death-toll. The irony of the dying flower not escaping her. Mother Apricot once told her the Zelkova would protect her, that they had the power to defeat scary monsters.
She was the flower, the scary monsters were men. More and more she felt a kinship with the green of the world. With nature she is whole, but as long as men exist there shall never be peace. Those beasts will trample all in their path. They must be put in their place!
But to do that she must escape, and that would take a miracle to happen.
This came in the form of a dark fortress.
The walls of her cell reverberated from shockwaves. Blasts echoed throughout the Church. The very foundation was being torn apart. Cracks appeared in the walls, letting in beams of light. An earthquake, more magnanimous than the crystal church could withstand, raged.
"AAAHHHHHH! What the hell WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" The guard fumbled before finding his footing. He drew his sword to readied himself for the counterassault. He charged forward then stopped suddenly to look back at the prisoner. With an angry scowl he returned back to his post and continued guarding. His duty, decreed by the holy mother, was to guard the killer. No matter what.
A little voice told Tira that this would be the time to escape. But how? If only she had her whip, she could strangle the guard, take his keys with a skillful whip-flick, and be free. She needs her whip to be free and be free to find her whip. It was impossible. The only thing she had was a dying Zelkova. She had to use a dying Zelkova to keep from dying.
"There's no need for both of us to go," she placed the flowerpot in the sunlight. "So soak up baby, and live strong, even though I won't."
Holding the flowerpot as she would a baby, she moved closer to the largest light-beam and gently placed it within the warm sunlight. Humming a lullaby Apricot taught her as a child, she stroked its petals.
Miraculously and wondrously, the flower bloomed with new life flowing within its petals. Colors returned in an instant, paleness vanished in an instant as Tira's love gave the Zelkova new strength.
Tira's eyes stared at the flower in wonder. Near dead moments ago, her caring returned it to its beautiful blossomhood. She stroked its stem gently, as a lover would, and felt it quiver.
And right then she knew how to escape.
She plucked it from the flowerpot, taking a hold of both the stem and root. Digging deep inside herself, Tira found that love again, the love that revitalized the dying flower and concentrates all of the force into the Zelkova. Smiling devilishly Tira flicked her wrist, causing the flower to elongate over a dozen feet long. No longer stiff like the stem, this green bullwhip could kill anyone who falls within its length. Along its subtle curves were razor-sharp thorns which were all able to slice a man into ribbons. Even steel armor couldn't stand up against it.
No surprise that a human neck would snap like a twig then.
Aiming carefully Tira snapped the vine-whip through the bars with a half-circle wrist-flick so quiet that her guard failed to notice until it was too late. The whip-tip circled his neck and slipped through a space in the bars. Tira took hold of it and with a terrible smile, quickly garroted the guard. Death was instantaneous. He barely had the time to gurgle before darkness took him.
The vine-whip loosened and he dropped to the ground like an unwanted kettle of fish. Dead.
"Ah men, I suppose they aren't totally useless after all. They do make good fertilizer." She brought her vine-whip closer to the bars. "But they still don't compare to you, do they baby? So c'mon baby, get mama the key."
The plant obeyed its mistress. Moving on its own, it slipped through the bars and dropped to the guard's key-belt. It hefted the key ring free and brought it back to Tira's waiting hand. "Good baby. Mama is very pleased. Now let's get out of here."
Seconds later Tira was running down the Church's halls. Her speed and stealth in full gear. Though most of the guards would be handling the assault of the dark fortress, she wasn't going to take any chances. She had to escape, yes escape to…
Where?
Tira stopped abruptly. Where could she go? She had no secret safe houses or allies. The Empire even had a bounty out for all Sorcerer Hunters, even former ones. If she escapes, she would always be on the lamb, hunted by both the Empire and the Church. There would be no sanctuary. And she couldn't stay here. The males had too much influence over the fooled Big Mama.
In the end, it always comes down to two choices: Stay or leave.
If she stays, she dies and if she leaves, she may die.
Her mind made up, Tira fled down the halls. She must leave so she may live. Speed was essential. The Haz Knights would be busy repelling the fortress for only a short time. They wouldn't notice an escapee when they would be too caught up in the battle to protect the Church and Hunters.
But not all the Hunters would be lucky. As Tira came across the gateway to the record room, she noticed a Hunter lying dead. It was Sandwich the Sorcerer Hunter, as strong as Gateau, she was one of the most powerful women in the entire Church, more than capable of handling any man. Her skull looked crush from some sort of falling debris.
Tira stopped her escape to pay heed to the death of a great woman who died doing her duty. They weren't friends, they hadn't even really known each other, but their reputations preceded them. She would have made a great ally to Tira. From her Amazon-like nature, Tira knew she would fight against female degradation. She was from a proud line of woman warriors. If only she hadn't—
"What?" Tira's small shell-like ears perked as she heard someone rummaging through the record room. Why—someone was in the record room! A thief! A lowly thief had broke into the Church using the attack as a diversion! Most likely a male, he killed poor Sandwich and made her death to look like an accident!
Tira readied her vine-whip to kill the man once he stepped out of there. But then she remembered that that would waste more precious time. If she stayed to execute the thief, she would lose her chance to escape and be sentenced to die.
"I-I am sorry, but I cannot avenge you," she pleaded to Sandwich's body, hoping she would understand. "I must escape and grind all men beneath our heels." Pushing a sob back, grieving for a male was inexcusable but for women it was alright, Tira resumed her desperate run for freedom.
As the Stella Church burned around her.
XXXXXXX
Hours pass. The dark fortress was repelled by the Haz Knights. Only one fatality was reported, a Huntress named Sandwich. She died doing her duty and received great honors at her funeral. Nearly every Hunter and Knight appeared to pay their respects to the dead woman.
Chocolate wished it was her. She was alone in her room now, all alone and by herself.
In both body and spirit.
Carrot was gone.
Marron was gone.
Gateau was gone.
And now Tira was gone. She had killed her guard and escaped during the confusion. Already Big Mama issued the decree for her to be hunted down and be brought back, dead or alive.
Leaving behind Chocolate as the last survivor.
She threw herself into her arms and cried louder, wishing that she had been the one to die at the hospital. She had nothing now. No one to love, no one to share happiness with, and no one to be with. Her family was gone and she was now an outcast among the other families. All of them blamed her for the death of Berry and the guard she learned whose name was Apple. She was a pariah, a leopard among the healthy. She was isolated and alone.
ALONE.
Chocolate cried long into the night.
XXXXXXX
And miles away from the Stella Church, Tira Misu collapsed on the ground. She had been running non-stop for half the night, pushing her body far beyond its limits, and now she was done. Exhaustion. She sank to the cold ground, the gentle swaying of grass stroking her cheek, tickling her, cooling the hot sweat that beat her brow.
It was like being held by her mother.
In the cool graces of mother nature, Tira passed out, enjoying her first full night's sleep since Carrot's death.
Unaware of the presence of a man who was watching her.
She awoke, days later she would soon learn, in a comfy feather mattress. Her eyes flickered at sun-up. Gazing out the window she saw she was in a celestial-looking castle that had to have been constructed by a holy order. But the forest that surrounded it, the moss that grew in the shining river that surrounded the castle, they were different than the foliage around Mt. Saint Hordic Village. The greenery here was stronger, cleaner, than that from the Village. She was a long way from the village and far, very far, from the Stella Church.
So who brought her here?
She pulled back the covers and was startled to find herself naked. Not feeling embarrassed in the slightest, Tira stepped out of bed and onto the hardwood floor. But on the desk nearby was a set of clothes left by her savior.
Tira examined them and pressed the largest piece to her shapely torso. It was a backless green leather bodice that was two sizes too tight. She put it on, marveling how tight it felt. Snug on her crotch and tight on her rear. Her breasts pushed against the restricting leather, wanting desperately to spill out. It reminded her of her black leather outfits, but green felt much more enjoyable. The rest were green-leather wrist-gloves, which felt like they molded to her slender hands, and tiny green high-heel ankle-boots.
Tira felt naked wearing it all and enjoyed them very much.
She noticed a large brown leather pouch with a shoulder-strap beside them. The long shoulder gave the pouch some slack that it rocked back and forth against her thigh. She unbuttoned the lid and peered inside, finding dozens of tiny vials filled with green plant matter and hundreds of seeds.
Somehow she could tell them all apart, and knew that each one did something that the others couldn't. And nestled at the bottom was another Zelkova flower. This told her that these would be her weapons.
The door opened, she whirled around to see who and found a man there. But there was something different about this man, something familiar. She noted the lack of any sexual interest in his eyes. When he saw her, he did not see a sex-toy but a deadly killer, one that could kill anyone and overcome any obstacles. He respected her.
"Wh-who are you?"
"Zaha Torte," the aged warlock stroked her cheek. "And you are now Poison Ivy."
"Poison Ivy?" she asked as she donned a smile. "I like it."
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THE END
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Unbelievable. First I turned Carrot into the Green Goblin, then Ice Vega into Sub-Zero, and now Tira into Poison Ivy. WHEN? WILL? THE? MADNESS? END?
And if this freaks you out, just wait until you see what I do with Gateau… ^_^
Another chapter done, sorry for the delay. I've just been very busy with Red Dead Revolver, KOTOR II, and Dead to Rights. So I hope everyone can forgive me. This chapter was…difficult. I really had to put in the pain for everyone in here. Marron's for losing his way, Gateau for failing again, Tira going psycho (she was easiest), and Chocolate's isolation (the toughest). Onion's was also a challenge because I just couldn't figure out how to play him. There's no way he'd be joking (his son just died after all), so I had to decide on what type of seriousness for him to act out.
I marked out simple depression and grim anger (i.e. Tira and Gateau). It wasn't until I was watching some episodes of M.A.S.H. on Hallmark did I notice how Hawkeye Pierce and Onion Glace seem to be so similar. It was on that that I decided to shape how Onion would grieve. Mille was a whole different ballgame. I figured he would be more wised and experience, but I also believed that underneath that goofy grin he always wears lies a very sensitive individual.
It's funny but I originally didn't plan for M and G to hook up. I did plan to have Gateau leave the Hunters to find his sister but as I wrote more and more of Mille, I found myself starting to appreciate him and chose to put them together. Now I'm not saying they're dating (and I'm not saying they aren't), I'm simply stating that they now share a bond, that goes beyond mere friendship and where that takes them, who knows? I'll guess I'll leave that up to the readers.
Turning Tira into Poison Ivy was a real blast. Originally I was going to have Chocolate defect to Zaha's side, dye her hair black, and walk around in a sexy widow's outfit named the Black Widow. I'm not talking about the uber-sexy black leather bodysuit Natasha wears but the original outfit she wore when Stan Lee wrote her. If you buy the Essential Iron-Man vol 1 paperback, you'll find a great picture of her in widow's garb on the back drawn by Bruce Timm. I scrapped that idea when I realize Chocolate would be too much of a mourner to be an effective seductress for Zaha. That would be Tira's role. And if you'll curious over what type of plant powers she has, just check out what Kurama can do on Yu Yu Hakusho and you'll get the jiff.
And if you'll excuse me, I'm off to work on NGE Theater.