Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long to come out. I have been doing x, y or z for the past few days, but now the holidays have arrived, so I will be updating much more frequently - hopefully.
On a side note, I forgot how awesome it feels to get long reviews. I remember when I read fan fiction, but had never giving writing a go, I never quite understood why authors always seemed to beg for reviews. That was until I posted my first story, and I discovered the wonder that was the reviews. Maybe it helps my self confidence? I don't actually know, but long reviews make me go all warm and fuzzy inside.
Oh, and I must celebrate this. Woo! 60 reviews! Mwahaha! I can't honestly believe I have that many.. You know an interesting piece of information? This was only intended to a three-shot, a sort of prologue to the Soul eater series, but instead, I accidently turned it in to this... *shrug. So worth it!
Aaaanyway, a special thanks to Midlina, Drew Secrets, bluenian98, xXCanaryXx, vampireacademygirls, Unknown and New Neon. You guys are amazing and deserve some kind of cookie as a reward. Wait no, I'll reward you reviewers with more frequent updates, how about that? :P
Thanks for reading / reviewing.
I do not own Soul Eater in any way, shape or form.
"Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn't."
Soft snores bounced off the marble walls as Soul continued to stare in complete shock and the sleeping girl before him. Maka Albarn was many things. She was stubborn, brash, intelligent and even violent at times… but Maka Albarn was no killer.
There was no way.
He could see it in the way she talked, walked, looked and how her eyes shone in the very memory of her deceased mother. She loved her mother more than anything- that was blatantly obvious. The mere thought of her causing intentional harm towards someone she cared so deeply for was simply unfathomable.
Soul scowled as his thoughts divulged deeper. It wasn't right. Something just wasn't right here. He was sure without an inkling of a doubt, that her mother's death and the burn on her back were connected. It made sense that way.
They had to be connected.
But what if they're not?
A nagging voice echoed in the back of his mind. Soul felt like tearing his hair out in pure frustration. This situation wasn't getting any clearer. He sighed, before glancing down at the girl leaning on his shoulder. Sighing, he began to gather her up in his arms, wary of any wounds on her back. He draped her arms around his neck, before carrying her gently back to her room.
It was true, he wasn't sure what was going on. It was true that whatever happened back then was probably best left unsaid. But… the only thing he was absolutely certain of was the fact that the man being executed had played a role in the series of events. However minor, Soul was sure that there was a link.
Just who was he?
Soul pulled the blanket over Maka's body, tucking her in before heading out and shutting the door behind him.
He would ask Kid tomorrow.
"I came when you told me to." Spoke the visitor, her usual bright golden hair cloaked in darkness and covered in shadows, making the golden plaits hanging on her chest almost look like chains. The visitor still wore her uniform from work, a long nurse's overcoat hanging over a black undershirt. Her voice was grim and heavy, as if there was an iron weight sitting upon her chest.
The figure behind the bars shifted into view slightly, its features slightly more visible, and visage more clear, though it still was just another shadow clinging to the wall to any ordinary onlooker. Flies buzzed and swarmed in the corner of the small cell where a vile smell emanated from the corner where the insects feasted on rotten flesh.
The figure allowed its head to drop, before raising its head once more, in a gesture reminiscent of a nod, but distorted so it looked like a snake rearing its head and about to strike.
"Y-you said that you would tell me where she is..." The visitor pleaded, her confidence withering away like the mess in the corner being picked clean.
"I did?" The figure spoke, its voice surprisingly human. Its tone was taunting, as it swayed its black, black head to an invisible tune.
"Yes you did!" The visitor affirmed, nodding vigorously. "You promised that you would after I did you that last favour!"
"I don't remember that.." the monster said, scratching the top of his head in mock confusion. The visitor trembled in a mixture of frustration and despair.
"You promised me!" she growled, tiny teardrops forming round the rims of her watery golden eyes.". You said that after I did that, I would finally be free from this life…from you, and that you would tell me where she is!"
The monster titled its head to the side, an invisible pout across its lips.
"That sounds like an awful big promise..." it said, each word purposely elongated leaving the mocking words, echoing in the visitor's ears.
"Don't play dumb with me, you son of a bitch!" she exploded, fists flying against the metal bars, fingernails cracking and breaking as her fists bruised horribly. But the visitor didn't care about the pain, or the consequences of her actions. She just wanted her back. "Give her back to me! Do you hear me? GIVE MY DAUGHTER BACK!" The yells echoed and bounced off the walls, as the one behind the bars cringed slightly at the volume of her voice.
"Such a loud woman..." it muttered to itself, watching as the visitor slowly slid down the bars on the other side. "You might alert the guards if you keep this up."
"Shut up…just shut up… why? Why won't you tell me?" the woman clenched the bars of the other side, badly damaged and bleeding fingernails digging to the iron, the resulting screech caused the monster only to smirk.
"Because I'm not finished with you quite yet, my dear."
The short, panting breaths the woman was forced to soon turned to muffled sobs and choked cries of anguish. It wasn't fair. Everything she did, everything she was forced to do for this… monster, and what did she get? Nothing but a bounty on her head, and invisible chains around her ankles.
"Because I can't stand the sound of a woman crying, how about this? You convinced Shibusen to view the execution, right?" It asked slowly, as the broken woman was only able to nod in response.
"If you make sure that Shibusen is there, and do me one ti-i-iny little favour right now, I'll give you…" He paused, momentarily considering his options. "A hint."
"F-fine... What do you want?" The woman stuttered in response, slowly but surely recollecting herself.
"Just give me a key." The thing behind the bars asked an invisible smile in his voice.
"T-the key to this door?"
He chuckled slightly in response, but it sounded anything but happy. It sounded like flesh being pounded, bones cracking and fingernails scraping on a chalkboard. It sounded pure evil.
"No, no..." it affirmed, as the woman sat frozen "just the key to some of the facilities in Shibusen…"
"W-why do you want that?" She asked meekly, praying that he wouldn't start laughing like that again. The sound already made her blood run cold, and chills run up her spine, as she prayed to never again hear the unholy sound.
"You'll see, my dear. You'll see."
The woman dug through her purse with ruthless efficiency, quickly finding one of the smallest Shibusen keys she could.
"13! YOUR WIFE IS HERE TO SEE YOU!" A loud voice echoed through the vile cell, as the monster gestured for the first visitor to lean closer. Pulling her ear through the bar so he was breathing directly into it, and subtly pulling the key from her hand, he whispered.
"She's closer to you than you think."
The sound of footsteps grew louder and louder as the visitor sprinted away.
Away from the darkness.
Away from the rancid stench.
Away from her past.
And away from the monster.
She darted around the two figures that walked in after, not paying either any heed as she continued to run.
The visitor never realized that the key she handed over had "Shibusen Dorm Key 1" engraved in it.
"Okaa-sama… who was that?" The smaller of the two figures said, its voice high-pitched but indistinguishable whether it was male or female. The taller of the figures continued to walk, the other trailing meekly behind like an abused puppy.
"Shhh." The taller hushed, almost a minute later when the first visitor was long gone.
"That was no one, Chrona."
The flies continued to feast, mindlessly.
Lunchtime came before Soul had time to bat an eyelash. He liked to think that his relationship with Maka had deepened, ever so slightly. She seemed to also not remember the very end of their conversation, and acted like she didn't just tell him that she murdered her own mother. He supposed it was for the better. This way, there were no awkward silences and pauses slightly too long exchanged between them, only a comfortable air of friendship, and maybe something a little deeper. He was now running like there was some kind of 40ft monster chasing him, in search of the elusive Death the Kid - son of the principal.
He wasn't with the usual group, he wasn't at the water fountain, he wasn't in the grass or in the classrooms, so just where was he?
Kid seemed to be the kind of mysterious guy who somehow knew all the answers but gave away nothing. He had this sort of unreachable aura around him, which none –except the Thomson sisters- seemed to be immune to. Soul had only once or twice questioned the surprisingly deep friendship that already existed prior to getting placed in the same dorm, between the sisters and Kid. He came to the conclusion that whatever kinds of bonds they shared, were deep enough so that they had a sort of subconscious connection. For example, Kid seemed to know exactly what the sisters would like most for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Liz would somehow predict when he would have a meltdown over something being asymmetric, and then send Patty to kick his ass in advance. Somehow, the three of them made this seemingly perfect trio, as they seemed to all know each other, and work together so well, they were all like parts of a well oiled machine.
To be perfectly honest, Soul was very slightly envious. Only because he subconsciously craved the same deep connection with another human being because his last was torn so brutally from him at such a young age.
Soul was panting by the time he checked the last classroom. He couldn't find Kid anywhere.
Screw it, He decided. It just wasn't worth it.
Sighing, he dragged his feet to a nearby chair, before collapsing into the rickety frame, causing a loud squeak to ring out down the hall. Soul faintly heard a door opening from behind him, but paid it no heed, closing his eyes as the strain and stress built up over the past day and night began to evaporate.
"You worthless git. Either shut the left side of your trap or I'll do it for you." A growling voice threatened from above him. Soul smirked in reply, returning the symmetry of his facial features, and heard the voice above him sigh in apparent relief.
"Kid, I need to talk to you for a sec." Soul commanded, peeling his eyes open as Kid nodded curtly in response. Kid decided to keep quiet about the small drop of sweat dropping from only the left side of Soul's neck, favouring following quietly for that moment, his previous discussion with his father echoing in his ears.
Soul led him to one of the largest classrooms - currently empty as all the students had evacuated as soon as the lunch bell had rang - belonging to professor Stein. A mutated corpse of some sort of animal – judging by the feathers, it used to be a bird - lay on the teacher's desk, so Soul simply walked to his own, took his seat and gestured for Kid to take one as well.
"What do you want?" Kid asked, watching as Soul's forehead contorted into a half frown.
"Always right to the point I see" Soul joked, as Kid's own eyebrows scrunched in response.
"You never talk to me. So spit it out, what is it?" Kid sighed in response, folding his hands neatly on the table and watching his male counterpart with a critical golden eye.
"Listen.., I'm just confused, is all." Soul started, but passed midway. He wasn't sure how to bring it up without sounding slightly…psychotic.
"About?" Kid attempted to hurry the white-haired boy along. Lunchtime was running out, and soon other students would begin to file in the classroom, ruining whatever chance they had to talk.
Soul's eyes were downcast, as he eventually choked out the word that left a purely bitter taste on his tongue, "Murder."
"Contemplating killing someone, I see?" Kid teased, as Soul flushed angrily.
"Shut up, I'm serious…" He growled, before continuing. "What do you think it takes to kill someone?" He asked honestly. He didn't want to know. He needed to know, and it showed in his voice.
"On purpose?" Kid clarified, still shell shocked at what his regularly quiet and 'cool' roommate was confiding in him.
"Yeah… what kind of person do you have to be to murder someone?" Soul tried again, as his desperation was starting to rise exponentially.
"You don't have to be any kind of person." Kid replied eyebrows furrowed. His answer depended on whether Soul truly wanted the truth. Besides, his own views might differ from the other boy's which could lead to a rather aggressive dispute. Kid honestly didn't want that to happen, and because of that, he would only explain what he meant if Soul truly asked him to.
"What do you mean? Give me your opinion." Soul persisted, hands gripping the desk below him like a vice. He needed an opinion other than his own. He needed someone to talk to, that wasn't himself. He needed this…whether he would admit it or not.
Kid sighed in response, as he tried to formulate a way to put his personal views and thoughts into words and phrases that made sense to others than himself.
"Soul, I personally think any kind of person has the capability to kill another, depending on the circumstances."
Soul frowned lightly. That wasn't the response he expected, nor was hoping for.
"So you're saying we're all killers at heart?" He clarified, his thoughts running a million miles an hour at that simple statement.
"No, that's not what I mean. Tell me, would you kill a murderer to save an innocent?"
Soul's eyes widened in shock. He tried to think of a response… logic… logically, it made sense. He would. Because doing that wasn't murder… right?
"Yeah..."
"But would you kill an innocent to save yourself?" Kid challenged, watching as Soul's expression changed once more. It was shock this time too, mixed with a good amount of horror at the simple question he asked.
"No way!" Soul growled. What the fuck did Kid think he was? A psychopath? A murderer? What the hell?
"You say that now, but if the situation really arose, would you stand by those words?" Kid persisted, his words sinking deeper and deeper into Soul's mind, leaving a permanent impression on his brain.
"Yes I would! I wouldn't kill an innocent to save myself…" Soul defended himself, logic slowly falling away, piece by piece. He wasn't selfish... he - he wouldn't murder someone to save himself.
"Then, would you kill an innocent to save your friends?" Soul's eyes widened in disbelief at the sheer power of the question.
"What are you..."
"Say the whole dorm got taken hostage. The hostage taker tells you that you have to kill a terminally ill child to save everyone, or he will kill all of us, one by one." Soul's brain tried and failed to come up with a solution that wasn't one of Kid's options.
"I…I would try to save you guys-"
"The hostage taker would slaughter us if you made a move to. Say the terminally ill child would die in a weeks' time, regardless of what actions you took. What would you do then?" Kid finished, his point finally hammering through the thick fortress of defensiveness and denial that walled the other's mind.
"…I…I would kill the child." Soul answered a minute later, his eyes wide open, unblinking, his conclusion leaving him stunned and horrified. Was he just as bad as those murderers he saw on TV?
"But then, what if the child was healthy?" Kid asked one more, adding yet another twist sending Soul's barely functioning mind over the edge.
"I… I don-"
"You would kill the child." Kid answered eyes downcast and hands clenched in his lap. "Like the rest of us, we treasure those we know more than those we don't. What would you do if the child was Maka?"
"What!"
Soul trembled under the magnitude of the question. There was no way he could choose! There was no way he would ever let Maka die, especially under his watch, but could he really live with himself if saving her cost the lives of his friends? Could she live with herself, knowing that because of her, they're all dead?
Both questions remained unanswered as Kid continued on, not leaving enough time for Soul to think of a descent response.
"What would you do if you had to choose between the lives of the rest of us, and her?" Kid repeated, hands slamming upon the desk as Soul flinched violently at the noise.
"Shut up..." Soul tried to silence the growing thoughts in his brain. "That'll never happen." He muttered, as Kid sighed once more, crossing his arms over his chest, golden eyes dimmed to a dull brown.
"You probably wouldn't choose at all. But if you did, what right do you have? Is one life more precious than others? Is one life worth more than others? No one on this entire planet has the right to take away life, and I wish I could say that no one does. But that is a lie. Horrible, horrible things happen every day on this planet, lives are stolen with no consequences are given to those responsible. If you killed somebody in the middle of the street, its murder, but in a war you're a hero."
Soul wondered why everything Kid was telling him made so much sense. He didn't want this. He wanted to believe that everyone at least had some good in them. We're not all murderers… are we?
"What are you saying..."
"What I'm saying, Soul, is that there is no one on the planet who is not capable of murder." Kid said, his voice sounding so off, so old… so weary, it wasn't even recognizable to the voice he used while discussing mundane things or arguing with Blackstar / obsessing over symmetry. It sounded like he was carrying a burden, much too heavy for his age. And it was taking its toll.
"But… but if what you're saying is true… "Soul spluttered in response "I, I just can't accept that. There are some people on this planet who would never take another's life, regardless of the situation."
A ghost of a smile haunted his features.
"And I wish I could agree."
Soul's thoughts slowly trailed back to Maka, and the conversation they had last night. He had to get it off his chest. Thoughts about that moment continued to plague his waking mind, along with his dreams and nightmares. He had to get it off his chest, and he knew that Kid would be the best person to turn to.
"Maka told me something disturbing last night, Kid..." He started off, watching as Kid's eyes shot up in surprise. "I just don't understand. She's like us! There's no way she could kill… not to mention who she said… It just doesn't make any sense! Then that burn on her back… and the man getting executed… no matter what I do, it just doesn't add up!" Soul finished, clutching the poor desk so hard it was moments away from snapping in half.
Though Kid didn't understand the majority of what Soul had just told him, he managed to catch one, important part that was the subject of discussion of his last meeting with his father. He knew exactly what Soul was talking about.
"You mean to public execution we're going to view?" Kid tried to affirm, as Soul nodded slightly.
"Yeah… how does that man know Maka?" He growled, more to himself than to Kid. Soon, his thoughts changed to another direction, as a strange new emotion was added to the roiling mass of crimson that was his eyes. This one glinted, and formed glowing flecks in the deep pools. Dare Kid say it? ...It looked almost like - 'hope'.
"You would know, wouldn't you? You're the principal's son!" Soul almost begged as Kid gasped in understanding. He supposed he could help the other out, even if it wasn't much, it was something.
"I don't know much, but I can give you a little information… Soul, how much do you know about serial killers?"
The scowl on the other boy's face grew deeper with each word, and as soon as 'serial killer' was mentioned it twisted so badly that the mass of creased brows barely looked like a face anymore, but more a mix of razor sharp teeth, snarling maw and ferocious red eyes.
"Why would I know about that?" He snapped in response, his tone aggressive.
"Good point. Basically, when the police hunt a serial killer, they are classified usually by a title, but in the actual police force, a number from 1 to 12 is distributed according to how dangerous the killer is." Kid explained, as Soul's expression slowly began to relax. "For example, Jack the Ripper was only a 9."
"He was only a 9? Then what kind of fucking monster is 12?"
"The man being executed… He was classified as 13."