A/N: I think I've definitely surprised myself with this chapter. Sorry to keep you guys waiting for so unreasonably long. I'm such a perfectionist with this story. Anyway, this chapter is way darker than even I personally anticipated. So, fair warning, guys.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter 25: Inevitable Rift

They had captured that spineless little witch Namine as planned. Things were going rather smoothly right now, Larxene thought with happy satisfaction, except for one certain redheaded pest. Apparently, according to what Marluxia informed her, as soon as Axel received word that the two of them were to go to Castle Oblivion, he had a change of heart for lack of a better term. He started wheedling the Superior to the point of a vague trust. This trust boosted Number Eight into the very much coveted Castle Oblivion mission, being the last member to fill the empty slot. For, Xemnas, who amused himself by inducing quarrels amongst his members, had decided to put these mission jobs up for grabs. Whoever was the best at their abilities, both physically and mentally, would be suited for the position. Much to everyone else's (especially Saix's) displeasure, these positions were quickly filled.

It was definitely all about trust. However, Xemnas expressed the need for Saix to stay behind, as most valued second-in-command. No matter, Larxene recalled as she strode haughtily toward the witch's room, the memory of Saix's smug expression at the last meeting was too repulsive to think about. All that mattered now was that she was working alongside the love of her life. Slowly but surely, after this mission, the whole castle would be theirs. Unfortunately, a month had passed, and little progress had been made. The Keyblade wielder had yet to make a grand appearance, the witch listlessly kept drawing his memories as instructed, and Axel kept sending the two of them suspicious glances while maintaining that stupid grin on his face. What a clown in every sense of the word. Larxene failed to see what exactly she found so tantalizingly attractive about that man. Her king, her co-ruler, held her trust and her love in his hands.

He would give her everything she could ever want in her entire non-existence. Money, power, a child (albeit a sadistically invented one), love, and eternal happiness to last her entire immortality as a Nobody; these things were like diamonds to her, expensive ones of hope. But, hope did come at a price, she would soon realize.

For now, the Nymph casually wandered inside the girl's room, as though there was nothing there apart from the blank white walls and the ivory furniture. And the cage. Oh, how she loved that cage, whereas her prisoner despised it. Good. She wanted that naïve, childish spirit to strain under the pressure of captivity. One day, it would snap, she was sure of it.

"And how is the witch today, huh?" Larxene asked cattily in her trademark sickly sweet voice, her aqua eyes dancing with cheerful malevolence. When she got like this, she knew as well as the girl did that it meant abuse. Whether it was physical or mental, she bestowed it by the heaps. Maybe it was because when she looked at Namine, she was painfully reminded of the past. A small fourteen-year-old girl slicing apathetically away at her wrists in a dark, quiet, and private cave...

Weakness. That was what the memory witch represented to her, and she hated that quality, wanted to crush it with her bare hands. Did that idiot think Larxene stood for such a pitiful trait? Oh, the depressing childhood had been the worst time for her as a Somebody. Her useless father Geoffrey was somewhere in some sparkling, dazzling big city reaping the fruits of his divorce.

And how did Lenera handle that problem in middle school? Endless tears and stinging cuts that only self-mutilation can bestow. Honestly, why should she, the female warrior Larxene, stoop to kindness to such a girl who resembled the one who hid away in a corner to pray that the pain would go away? No, it was unacceptable. And not to be known to anybody when it came to the abuse; not even Marluxia, the one man she loved above everybody, was aware of what she did to their captive. He dared not dirty his hands in terms of smacking the poor girl to death or sexually abuse her, as Axel was so wont to accuse the flower gardener of. No, he won Namine over with his natural charm, a façade for deadly charisma that not even a fourteen-year-old teenage girl could deny. He acted splendidly, Shakespeare fanatic as he was, as the prince who would rescue her as soon as the dragon was metaphorically slain. Larxene scoffed at this at the time, dismissing it as "being soft with our prisoner."

In the mean time, Namine started quaking in fear, yet her ocean blue eyes filled with hatred. Was she honestly trying to get a feeble spark of rebellion going? If so, the Nymph didn't care, for that spark could easily be snuffed out. She had ensured it was the case before.

"Not talking, hm?" she spoke for the girl in the same falsely sweet tone. "That's too bad. I was really very curious on how the memories are progressing."

Before the pathetic weakling could stop her, she had taken the white sketchbook to idly gaze upon it. However, the drawing surprisingly did not portray anything from Sora's memory. Instead, it showed Namine's captors behind a prison cell of their own—Larxene and Marluxia were both trapped inside. So, apparently, Namine was not dumb enough to not be aware of how the pink haired man toyed with her. Still, seeing herself in some stupid cell enraged Larxene to the point that she rudely tossed the sketchbook aside. How dare that witch! She definitely had some nerve to sketch that, when she knew full well that one of them would check it. An uncharacteristic bold streak like hers needed to be thrown out immediately. So, doing what she deemed right for punishment, Larxene slapped Namine hard across the face.

The skin on the young girl's face turned so vividly red that if the slap had been harder, she most likely would have bled. As usual, though, Number Twelve didn't even care if she cried, much less started bleeding. Could Nobodies (or so-called ones like this piece of dirt) bleed?

With cold teal eyes, Larxene gazed at her victim condescendingly. "Be careful on what you draw or who you draw or how you draw, witch. If I see another pretty little picture like this again, I won't be so merciful."

Before she could burst from this seething anger possessing her entire being, she stormed out of the room, every step loud against the marble floor. That idiot girl. How she despised her! As she muddled in her incensed thoughts, she came across Axel. The redhead smirked at her, his mask back on after their rather awkward break-up. Now, he could care less what happened to her, and the same went with her. They were on separate paths that were fated to never converge again.

"How was day care today, Lightning Bug?" he asked, using a once affectionate nickname and twisting it into something contemptuous.

She glared at him. "One wrong word, Axel, and I swear—"

"You'll what? Shock me? Honestly, Larxene, I thought you would be more caring toward the one you loved."

"I never loved you," she spat. "You were just something to pass the time with. An amusement. You were nothing more and nothing less."

For once speechless, Axel dared to stupidly gape at her, his mouth hanging open at an unattractive angle. Good. She was already in a foul mood enough without that immature, childish redhead anyway. How he ever came onto the mission would forever never cease to amaze her. Then again, maybe the answer was obvious. Axel stopped at nothing to get what he wanted, but once he did, he quickly got bored with it. Likewise with her. She quietly cursed him under her breath as she teleported to the library to meet with Marluxia. At least he was the only company worthwhile in this godforsaken place.

The next day, as with all the other days, remained the same, especially when it came to Larxene's now irrepressibly present bad mood. She had no idea why her temper was so much more fragile recently. As she descended one of the many sets of staircases in the castle to get a cup of coffee, she realized that maybe Marluxia had something to do with it. Every time they met now, it didn't mean anything to him that they were together, alone in a room. The plan, the plan, the damned plan! That was all he would discuss with her for hours on end, rather than asking how her day went or perhaps some snide jokes regarding Axel. It was like they had never met each before in their lives. He treated her like...like...a business partner than someone who meant a great deal to him. In the end, it would all be for the good of the plan. Sora would be a mindless, Heartless puppet, Namine would be sacrificed, and Larxene—well, she saw herself as being tossed away, too.

Stirring in some cream quietly with her spoon, she realized that maybe she hadn't been part of Marluxia's plan to begin with. Maybe, as soon as he finished with her, he would eliminate her, too. He seemed so cold and calculating now, none of that gentle warmth she had come to anticipate from him. Had the warmth been some tactic of his to entreat her to assist him with the plot to take over Organization XIII himself? At this point in time, Larxene knew she could not rule the possibility out.

Unfortunately, the mere thought of Marluxia betraying her did nothing, of course, to appease her already foul mood. Once again, she teleported into Namine's room, a sadistic smirk on her face.

"Well, well, let's see what the artist has for us today. Hopefully, not anything too vile this time," she said breezily, but one barely perceptible twitch of her teal eyes gave her away. If Namine infuriated her again through a picture, she would not hold back the pain. And if Marluxia caught her in the act, she found that she didn't much care any more what he thought. So, preparing to unleash some attacks, she picked up the sketchbook for the daily checking. Were the drawings appropriate for their mission? In Namine's case, that little insect better pray that it was so. Hm, let's see...pictures of Sora, pictures of the worlds the Keyblade Master and his pathetic lackeys had gone to, pictures of Riku, pictures of Kairi, that dreadful picture from last time with Larxene in the cell and...What was this?

This time, that insignificant brat's drawing was far, far worse compared to the last mistake she sketched. No, this...this was beyond horrible. How dare she portray her and her Marluxia in this light! For, this repulsive excuse for a picture portrayed hearts that were out of Larxene's and Marluxia's reach as well as almost every single member at Castle Oblivion. But, a crystal pink heart descended toward Axel.

"And just what are you playing at, little girl?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, for her anger was too immense to even scream.

There it was then, the weak nervous reaction. The girl's fingers fluttered about the table nervously as she helplessly trembled from her fear. Her blue eyes were ready to shut if anything bad should happen to her. Overall, she knew what would come almost as well as Larxene herself. Of course, she could speak, but it was all stuttering and mumbling.

"I—I...I—I was mad."

"Mad at what?" the Nymph snapped, getting progressively more irate by the second.

"At...a—at the way y—you and e—everyone else treat me."

Larxene looked ready to erupt while she paced about the room, trying fruitlessly to calm herself down. Honestly, maybe she didn't want the calm. She didn't want to hold back all the emotions she felt as much as a Nobody could. This burning rage inside her filled her with an incandescence that practically made her addicted to it. When all was said and done, she desired those flames of anger to burn her alive. And take Namine along with her. There was nothing left but hatred. So, swooping down upon the innocent girl, she asked through gritted teeth, "Then why does Axel seem to be getting a heart in this picture? Hm? Can you answer me that, little girl?"

"I—I...W—Well, he's always been so n—nice to me."

"Nice, huh?" Larxene retorted before she hysterically laughed, the resounding shrieks echoing in the mostly empty room. "Did you know he only does that for personal gain? He doesn't care about you at all. If anything, he wants to see you die just like the rest of us. If anything, he's the most careless one out of all of us."

"I don't believe that," Namine said softly, for once the stuttering gone.

Larxene couldn't hide her twitching eyes any longer as she felt an electrical charge course throughout her entire body. Axel once called her Lightning Bug. Well, her brand of lightning was much more agonizing than any ordinary insect's so-called generated electricity. Taking Namine out of her chair, she roughly threw her to the floor. The restraint of Marluxia's orders as well as her own self-control didn't matter at all any more. She wanted somebody to suffer.

Her voice rising to a very high soprano, she screamed, "REALLY? HOW CAN YOU KNOW? YOU STUPID GIRL!"

The kunai were out. No mercy would be spared. This was indeed past the point of no return, for Larxene's rage could take her to places she normally avoided going at all costs. Soon, her charged knives sliced through Namine's skin, yet the girl did not shout in pain. How much stupider could she get? More abuse would teach her a thing or two. And so, she hacked away, while Namine just kept bleeding and bleeding without making a sound. She really was nothing more than a doll. When she tired of slicing and dicing away, Larxene then ripped out the offending picture and cut it up, too. Paper ribbons soon surrounded her as the remnants of the picture fell to the floor. No more slicing. Then, she had to punch every bit of what she could find, didn't she?

Her fists then beat on Namine, blue and black and purple bruises sure to pop up after this hailstorm of fury ceased. Oh yes, the artist would learn to use those colors in her lousy drawings. Maybe she would use her own blood to paint? Not caring if her sanity was at risk, Larxene flipped over the table and proceeded to grab the sketchbook.

"I spared this disgusting thing last time!" she shouted in her victim's ear to make sure she received the message loud and clear. "But, I won't be so forgiving this time! You saw for yourself how I was, what I really am. I'm your worst nightmare. I'm the one you're scared of in real life, too. NOW SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR DRAWINGS!"

Her gloved hands clenched upon the sketchbook so tightly, she could feel her knuckles starting to whiten underneath. At the same time, her fists betrayed her—they started trembling like the girl before her. She didn't know what was happening. She should have torn the stupid thing to bits by now. Furious tears started trickling down her flushed cheeks as she tried a second time to rip the book up. No good. It was still all in one piece.

"Rip, damn it, rip!" she yelled helplessly before tossing it aside. No matter, vengeance on Namine was worth a great deal more than some silly childish drawings.

"Die already!" she screamed and prepared to make a few more slashes, a few more scars that would definitely not fade away. Just like Lenera's own scars...

She thought she heard Marluxia shout roughly, "No, Larxene!" but she didn't hear him. Her combined grief and rage quickly destroyed her on the inside, leaving her feeling soulless and empty. Too much emotion that a Nobody shouldn't feel, and this was the end result. She found that she didn't care any more, about any of this. Sure, she would love to see Sora and the Superior both fall to pieces, but if it meant that one attachment so precious be broken...

As though she was nothing more than a rag doll, Marluxia dragged Larxene out in the corridor. This would not end well. Then again, he had turned into the one thing she had dreaded: a power hungry monster.

She thought she heard him yelling, but she couldn't be sure. For now, she lost all sense of thought, all notion of reality. Basically, pouring out her hatred out on Namine helped her feel this comfortable numbness. She no longer sensed the need to vent any more that day. But, Marluxia being angry with her definitely did not help matters.

"You could have killed her! And then our mission would have been ruined! I told you not to try anything foolish with her, but you didn't listen to me. You repulsive imbecile! I don't even want to look at you, you're just so selfish! I could have single-handedly overthrown the Superior—!"

That was it, that horrible epiphany. He refused to include her in the plan, had refused to for quite some time. Was this the way it was going to be? All along, he had used her for his own personal gain?

In a cold, deadpan voice—a voice she barely recognized—she said, "I hate you. You blame me, and that's reasonable. But, what's really insane, Marluxia, is you were just waiting for me to make that one mistake. You had no intention of me being with you at all. It all died when you got power. Well, keep your damned power, because I want out. Sure, I'll help you take down Sora and Xemnas, but you—you're virtually nothing to me now. From now on, be like the others who are smart enough to stay away from me. You're dead to me."

She stalked off, feeling strangely hollow inside, that same hollowness that would persist throughout the rest of her day. As she reluctantly looked back at her now former lover, she saw an expression that was mixed: anger, shock, and barely perceptible agony. Good. She would leave him to suffer then.

A/N: Told you guys, dark as all get-out. But, yeah, when I wrote the ending to this chapter, I was really surprised. And a little sad.

Luckily, there are only two more chapters left, and this thing will be finally done after much procrastination on my part. Sorry to keep you guys waiting.