*Crona's perspective.
I live here now, indefinitely, at Marceline's home. Not much has changed, really. My job: the same. The food: the same. My 'bed', the couch: same. I suppose one thing has gotten better, at least; when Marceline and I are in the same room, I don't fear for my life (as much). I stay out of her way and she stays out of mine. Even with that, however, there's still something I can't shake…
The strange visions haven't gone. I can't even imagine how many drinks I've nearly spilled at work because they just keep haunting me. To distract myself from it, I've taken up poetry. Since Ragnarok can only come out when I summon him now, I can write freely. Today's one of my off-days, so I pretty much have all the time I want. The only downside is that the notebook came loose, so I've mostly been stuffing the papers in-between the mattress for privacy. After finishing the last stanza, I allowed my hands to rest, aching from hours of scribbling.
SLAM! The door from Marceline's room shot open heart dropped, and I let the paper slip in a panic, floating towards the middle of the living room. It was even stranger considering that Marceline usually woke up around night, not midday. Whatever it was, it had to be serious. She was fully clothed, head-to-toe, heading to the front door armed with her axe bass. "Huh? What's this?" Marceline snatched the paper in midair, skimming it with half-open eyes. "I'll read it later." She stuffed it into her pockets, thankfully deciding to ignore it for now. Staying out of her way was a way of life for me, but I couldn't this time. If she read any of that, I wouldn't be able to sleep at night.
"U-Um, Marceline!" I started after her, going as fast as I could without running. It was too late. She had already gone out the door. A solitary groan escaped my mouth before I ran out too, desperately following behind. Radiant sunlight oozed into the cave; the first decent weather in this land for a while now. She stopped just before the first patch of brightness, putting on some sort of face-covering mask, now completely barricaded in clothing. "Marceline, wait!" My voice may as well have reached a brick wall. She took off into the open skies, soaring ahead while unknowingly leaving me behind.
"Ragnarok, wake up. I need to fly. Please." His telltale grumble alerted me to his presence before I felt the wings sprout from my back, probably just cranky from being woken in the morning. Come to think of it, when wasn't he cranky?
"You better have a damn good reason for waking me this early, Cronumbkull!" He slapped my arm with his wing repeatedly until I spoke.
"Marceline found my poetry. She's going to read it soon, and if that happens…" I didn't need to fill in the blanks myself.
"Pffhahahahahaha! You're screwed!" Ragnarok, being Ragnarok, laughed it up, to my dismay.
"T-This is serious! Can you just fly already?" I was hardly in the mood for his shenanigans, amply bouncing on my foot.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going." A single puff of his wings pushed my body off the ground, gaining speed as he went higher. Cruising along with the clouds, I scanned the sky, looking for Marceline.
As my gaze turned left and right, my hope nearly sunk before something nearly knocked me out of the sky; a blur of grey and black rushing past me. "Oh." It had to be her. Hopefully, in her morning tiredness, she wouldn't mistake me for an attacker or anything. "Marceline!" I couldn't even hear myself, but somehow, it reached her. She stopped mid-flight, almost crashing into me if I hadn't swerved. Her arms were raised, probably surprised, but with the mask on, I couldn't read her at all.
"Crona? What are you doing here?" She asked, confusion muddled in her tone. To be fair, I would be confused too, but that was beside the point. My body shook. A gulp trickled down my throat, trying to force my lips to open. "Never mind. You're here anyways. You up for some 'errands'?" She pounded her fist into her palm, making it clear what she intended to do.
In a panic, the only word I could form was a quick "Sure.", coming out quick and nervous. Marceline nodded and whisked ahead immediately, leaving me to my own devices.
We flew for minutes on end, just mindlessly jetting through plains. Every so often I would look down and panic, forgetting just how high up I was. Flying came naturally to Marceline; she didn't need another organism to enable it for her. Furthermore, she seemed to have a complete grasp of where they were going, not once stopping to check for directions. Eventually, we descended, stopping in front of a towering forest. Something in me shuddered. I'm afraid of a lot of things, but nothing looked any different about this forest. What, then? Why did I fear? No, I was thinking too broadly. When you hesitate to step in the dark, it's not because you're afraid of the darkness itself, it's because you're afraid of what could be inside: a hell manifested through your own thoughts. What I felt in that forest, deep in its heart, was a person that I instinctively feared.
"A forcefield? Really?" My thoughts were broken up by Marceline's ax crashing against an inseparable tangle of vines. It was a little calming to have a distraction, anything to keep my mind from wandering. I don't know why I decided to move closer to her; I was too nervous to say anything anyway. So I waited, leaning against the brambles while Marceline struck again, and again, thinking of ways I could ask without the risk of possibly coming off as threatening, or needy, or paranoid, or…
"Haugh!" One moment I was standing, the next, not. I scolded myself for not being attentive enough before looking where I was. The forest surrounded me, large and expansive enough to block out the sun from where I stood.
"Crona?" Metal pierced the vines again, but they refused to budge. How I got past them was a complete mystery to me. "How did you..." There was an audible thump, accompanied by a grunt. "get past these?"
"I don't know, I was just sort of leaning and…" I couldn't sputter out an explanation. How could I hope to describe it? Magic vines? An absurd concept, but I didn't really have any 'normal' world to compare it to.
"Alright, I'm leaning." The last thing I expected from her was to heed my flimsy advice, but she did anyways. A few seconds passed, returning nothing. "Come on!" The outer layer of brambles scrunched up, probably from her tugging at it. What was so worth coming here anyway? From the other side, I heard her rough breathing, and she seemed to give up on destroying the vines, at least for now. "Listen, Crona, I need to ask you something important. Like, important-important."
Important? Whatever feelings I felt towards that sentiment, I shoved them away. "I don't know if that's wise. I'm not trustworthy; we've only started to get to know each other. You don't want to put that kind of faith in me."
"You don't have to do anything huge! Just a few people to clobber, that's all!" There was distress in her voice; a tone of hers I never heard. Not a single word escaped my lips. Maybe if she thought I'd left, she'd...
"Crona, please, hear me out." I froze again. She was quivering. Honest-to-god quivering. My legs wouldn't move, however much my mind begged them to. "It's kind of a big deal. I really, really don't like to bring it up, but since you're so stubborn...It happened forever ago. How old are you?"
"Uh..."
"Way before that. When I was a kid, some old guy I used to know..." Marceline took a breath. "UGH!" And just like that, a miracle happened. The vines collapsed, just before any possible emotional vulnerability could slip out. "Huh. Convenient." She through a passing glance in my direction as she got up. "You didn't hear anything." She clarified, making firm eye contact with me. It may have come out as a vaguely-worded threat, but I let out a relieved sigh anyway. "C'mon, let's go." Marceline broke into a sprint, leaving me in the dust as I struggled to catch up in her wake. At the break of a turn, she skidded to a complete stop, gasping in shock. Something had driven this Vampire Queen to stop completely in her tracks; that alone was more than enough to make me draw Ragnarok. She didn't move a muscle. No sounds came from in front of her. I took a step forward. Another. The hand covering my eyes painstakingly moved.
"Hambo!" A childlike glee overtook Marceline, clasping her hands over her mouth in an innocence I had never seen in her previously. The object of her affection, her 'Hambo', was a shoddy, patchwork stuffed animal, lying on the ground like a gift-wrapped present. No, it couldn't just be a stuffed animal. There surely had to be something more to it. I moved in front of her, reaching down to grab the toy.
"Hm?" I hadn't taken my eyes off the plush for a moment, yet it vanished before my eyes. The harsh sound of wood splitting punctured my ears.
"Crona! Hey, are you..." She spoke tentatively, cringing at the sight of me. It was only then that it dawned on me that I was surrounded by wooden spikes, some severed in half. Black Blood trickled in little streams from my chest, making me feel a bit more vulnerable coupled with the biting winds blowing against the tiny open spots where my robe was torn.
"It's nothing." I clumsily trampled over the rest of the spikes, keeping an eye out for that strange doll.
After a long hesitation, she piped up again. "Did you see where it went?"
I blinked. "Where what went?"
Her eyebrows jutted downward, shooting an annoyed glare my way. "Hambo."
That did nothing to ease my confusion. "W-What?" Immediately, Marceline seemed to shrink, diverting her eyes and guarding herself with crossed arms.
"Y'know," her fangs were bared, crossing her arms defensively. "the little monkey."
"Is..." no, it was a stupid question. "Is that why we're here?" But I had to ask anyway...
"N-No!" She looked even more mortified than before. Nononono, that couldn't be the only reason. Not just for a doll.
"Then why else are we here?" Of course, I couldn't take a hint, pressing further. Still, risking our lives for a scrap of cloth and stuffing?
"Nnrgh." She spun ahead on her heel, ending the conversation with a cold shoulder. In all fairness, I much preferred that over the alternative that I expected: a hook to the jaw. I can't deal with chronic mouth pain…
The silence was awkward, to say the least. She stared straight ahead with something of a scowl, not in the mood for conversation. "So...this, um, 'Hambo' of yours…" Her eyes moved, gazing at me coldly. "I-Is it magical or anything like that?"
"It might." Her tone was less aggressive now, only half-threatening. "Why do you care so much?"
My face flushed immediately. I tugged at my collar, looking into the woods for a distraction. "W-Well, yes, about t-that, I-" There was no right answer. I couldn't honestly say anything without looking like an utter fool.
A rough hand ruffled up my hair. "You don't need to say it. I get it, you act all cold, but you're way soft on the inside."
I pointed to myself, just to clarify we were talking about the same person. "I'm cold?"
Marceline chuckled. "Frigid, man." She seemed rather amused with herself, grinning goofily as she spoke.
"Hmph." I rolled my eyes, trying to appear annoyed. From there, the air became a little less perturbed, just us calmly striding through the dense forest. However paranoid I was, for once, I let my guard down. I had even managed to convince myself that the trap earlier was mere coincidence. Maybe I'll let Ragnarok sleep for today. I thought to myself. It was hard to describe what I felt. Maybe 'trust' was too strong of a word. A mutual understanding? Still, the lingering unease never truly left. With every step, the few patches of light became fewer, and fewer, and fewer...
Marceline's pointed ears perked, extending her arm out in front of me as she came to a complete halt. "Did you hear that?" I made my body rigid, turning my head for any sign of danger. I found myself gravitating towards her, for completely appropriate reasons.
"Marceline..." A whispering, raspy voice that could almost be mistaken for the rustling of leaves beckoned to the vampire. I watched as her eyes darted left and right, searching for the noise. "Over here, dingus..." Right in front of us, the plush from before sat. I saw weakness in Marceline's face, her eyebrows slanting, and her mouth going slack-jawed. The toy's noodle-like arm jerked, begging her to come closer.
"Hambo!" Once again, she was powerless to the doll's charm. Her eyes watered, running over to it like nothing else mattered. That's when I noticed it; Hambo was sitting parallel to an unstable-looking tree, ready to snap and collapse at any moment. She knelt to woefully embrace it, but by that time, the tree was already falling.
I didn't even realize I had acted, but I had. The cold sensation of Black Blood dripping from my palm gave away as much. I struggled to balance the fallen tree in one hand, already feeling it slipping. Marceline came to the realization a bit later, only catching on once she saw that she was hugging nothing but thin air. She yanked me out of the tight spot, wiping some sweat off her brow.
"Again!" She drove her heel into the ground, looking around furiously for the perpetrator. "She's messing with my head!" Pacing back and forth, she found herself welling in her own anger, feeling powerless at the hands of their hidden attacker. "And you...!" She swiveled around, filling me with dread as I saw the vexation in those harrowing red eyes. For a moment, I saw her calm down slightly, before she grabbed my shoulders and shook me lightly. "Stop. Doing. That."
"U-Understood." I complied, if only to shake that cold gaze off of me. She took a breath before advancing on again, unzipping her jacket to withdraw her ax bass. Her fingers tensed on the neck of the bass, hacking and slashing a path through the foliage. I summoned Ragnarok, my eyes darting left and right for threats.
Eventually, we came to a halt at a small, reflective pond. "Wait here for a while. I'll be back in a minute." Her hand stilled me from going any further once again, keeping me in the corner of her gleaming red eye as she floated towards the pond's center. Her mouth sucked in a large gasp of air, before shooting into the pond's surface.
I stared for a long while at the pond, as the forest ambience began to sink in. It was calming, listening to the ripples in the pond and allowing myself to do nothing. All by my lonesome. No Ragnarok. No Marceline. Just...me. My body collapsed upon itself, lying in the grass like a straw-man in the breeze. The forest's shade dimmed the surroundings, making it all the more easier to shut my eyes and...
"Come back to me, Crona." My breath ran dry. The feeling of peace was abruptly cut short, my eyes shooting around for her. She knew my name. She's called me before, beckoning me to return in a low voice that held no hesitation or warmth. I stood, backing against a tree carefully. "Crona..." The voice cooed, as a serpent's silhouette began to creep up from the tree's side.
"AH!" Without so much as a second thought, I severed the tree with Ragnarok. And of course, nothing was there. Breaths came out in thumping spasms, digging into my chest with my fingernails.
"Another one of those dreams again?" Ragnarok inquired. Hearing a familiar voice was soothing, no matter who it came from.
"Mmhmm." I nodded shamefully, feeling childish and pitiful for giving into it again.
"Whatever. They're not real, Crona. I see 'em too. Do you really see me as a sane individual?" He snickered. "Or it could be the other way around. Who knows, maybe that speaks volumes about YOUR craziness!"
I shut my eyes briefly and sighed. "Thanks, Ragnarok." I said at least partly genuine as I sunk the sword back into my bloodstream. I fell down again, this time more unsure than ever.
You're alone, Crona. Completely and utterly alone. The quiet surroundings could not hope to quell the ominous thoughts stalking to the front of my brain, denying me of any sort of peace. Except for...except for her. My mind drifted to Marceline, of her sheer will, of her immeasurable strength, and of her undeniable confidence. Part of me always feared her, sure, but...paradoxically, I couldn't feel safer around that vampire. And she was...
"Oh." My body tensed, staring into the deep pond. In the depths of those waters, one thing I was certain of: there was someone who wanted her dead. "Oh no..." I wasn't ready to be alone. Not here, not now. The water rippled. It wanted me, inviting me to the high, high probability of death.
Before I had known it, I had dived. Lower, lower, into the abyss. All for her? I was still coming to grips with it. Could we even be considered friends? Nevertheless, it was too late to go back on my decision now. My eyes glinted, making out a faint light nearing the bottom. In the absence of air, the endless water felt strangling, pushing me to swim faster. I extended my hand, and felt the cold rush of air pierce it, before I dragged my whole body out.
I fumbled for solid ground, but there was none to grab. Blue skies replaced blue waters as my heart pounded. In the few seconds, no, milliseconds that I had to comprehend what was happening, it took a blink for me to realize I was falling from the sky, after swimming to the bottom of the pond. Even my own screams seemed to be absorbed by the rushing winds. In the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a rickety house, floating on its own accord. Just before I could fall further, my fingers snatched at the front porch, barely securing myself. The wood splints from the stairs dug into my hand, leaving me panting like a dog once I pulled myself onto solid ground. My legs staggered upward, peering into the quiet house. No sign of Marceline, or anyone, really. The whole place was virtually muted, with only my own creaking footsteps making any sort of noise. I let myself in, trying my damndest to not give away my presence. I'm sure she's nearby, a mantra that continually pushed me forward through the eerie unknown that embodied this house. I feared even Ragnarok might make too much noise, so I trekked forward alone. The foyer was in shambles, barely fit for anyone to live in, with lopsided furniture, stairs with wood that already seemed to be collapsing inward on itself, and a musty scent that forced my nostrils shut.
And so, I moved. My hand laid reluctantly on the dust-ridden railing, ascending up the stairs with only the faintest idea of where I was going. The stairs eventually ceased, leading to a curving, confining hallway. The air itself felt constricted, growing palpably thinner with each further step. I drew closer with caution, not even bothering to take a breath for fear that someone would be listening. It was then that I realized that the hallway wasn't narrow, quite spacious in fact. A mental weight dragged my feet, until they were firmly cemented into the ground. The air was fine, but my own lungs refused to breath it. My blood went utterly dry.
Pure, unadulterated, dread.
Everything was fine. Tranquil, almost. Not so much as a squeak came from the house. I had become unconcerned about Marceline. Off to the side, a barely open door laid. What was inside, I could not see nor hear. But something was there. A presence, all too terrifyingly familiar to me. I couldn't hope to peer past the mental blocks to identify it, to know just why it left me a sweating, shaking mess, but my subconscious was well aware. In the gap of that door, in that bleak room, part of me could now recognize. My lips wettened, opening, then closing, then opening again.
"Witch."
I began to stalk closer. My back was hunched, and my toes were perfectly poised. I let Ragnarok come out. He said nothing, but the hungering, full-toothed smile I saw on his lips expressed a desire to kill. Moving closer felt easier, and easier. My palm pushed lightly against the aged mahogany of the door...
And suddenly, life. "Hambo's so full of sentimental energy, Marceline! How long with this little plush last? Another year? Another decade? Another century?" The witch's back was turned to me, channelling lightning through her hands to torment Marceline.
"I swear to glob Maja, you're dead!" She hissed, with an animalistic fury. Even in her pain, she dragged herself closer to the witch, reaching for the stuffed animal at her side.
The witch's fingers spread, increasing the intensity of her magic. "Keep it up, Marceline! I'm sure you'll reach me eventually!"
Kill by stabbing.
I had plunged the sword through before I, or even the witch, knew. "Wait, what?" Her body dissipated in a puff of smoke, as a feeling of immense relief surged through me. Marceline gazed at me with wide eyes, likely as a result of my barging in. I lazily tossed the plush, or rather 'Hambo' to her, putting Ragnarok away as I calmed down.
She caught it, embracing it in a tender grasp before hastily shoving it away in her hoodie. "Hey," I paused as she addressed me, meeting her stare with cowardice as I looked away. "thanks, Crona." I placed my fingers on my forehead. Not this...It was shameful, really. My cheeks had gone scarlet, for reasons that I wasn't completely sure of.
I heard the crinkling of paper, and then quickly remembered the reason I had come here in the first place. "You wanted me to read this, right?" A preemptive grimace crossed my face, bracing for embarrassment.
"Wait, you shouldn't—" I objected, but words had failed to halt her.
"Among the blackened clouds, there is naught but a ray. Memories long disappeared, but I've ceased to pray. Sixteen years snatched away, yet I don't know if I desire them back. For all I know, is that my blood is black..." I let myself look upon hearing the paper being folded, making direct eye contact with Marceline. Her expression was thoughtful, not holding a mocking smile nor disgusting grimace. "This is pretty angsty... Do you mind if I use this as material some time?"
Again, I had to look away. "O-Of course. I guess I owe it to you, s-seeing as how it's your house I'm living in."
"Don't be a nerd about it. Let's head back."
AN: Another chapter done. I decided to experiment with first person present this time around, and I'm curious as to how you guys thought that went. As always, questions and comments are welcome!
