Secrecy

Chapter Twenty-Five - The Tzitzimimeh

WARNING: This chapter contains curses.

DISCLAIMER: Kleia does not own Letter Bee—only her OCs. The names I have used in this chapter are all real, and therefore, not mine. Credit goes to the sources of these information.

Emi jumped up and glanced around her.

She was seeing things. She was seeing things. She was seeing things. She was not in a carriage. She was on her bed. She was with Zazie and Rose. She had just escaped from the Pigeon's headquarters. She was safe. She is safe. She was not abducted. She is not in jeopardy.

She is not with Mia.

It's like trying to breathe for the first time after years of not knowing what oxygen was. It was like taking in a sight that was once known as paradise and was turned into an inferno. It was once listening to melodious harmonisations of strings, aerophones, idiophones and suddenly hearing the instruments distorted and out of tune. It was everything but beautiful—the things around her, the things happening to her.

"Well, you look messed up,"

She snapped her attention to Mia, who was sitting across her, a sly smirk on her face. Emi would've never thought that she would resort to such crime. She looked like an angel—with her curly black hair tied into a loose side ponytail by a little pink ribbon, her emerald eyes, and rosy cheeks. She couldn't instantly believe what was happening to her right now. But she decided to suck it up and have courage. Talking back wasn't worth it—she has to pick her fights. She was too late to reply, anyway, so she just let Mia's words hang in the air as she disregarded her presence.

It was then that she realised her hands were tied behind her by a rope. Escaping was a futile attempt. It wasn't like she planned on escaping. This was the right time. They came for her at the right moment. She asked for this. She wanted this. She was so tired of hearing the same words all over again: "It's your fault. It's not your fault. It's all because of you. It's not because of you." It was driving her insane. Night per night it was all she could think about, and Zazie was the only one who could distract her from these thoughts.

And now, she should not rely on his help anymore. But the creeping vines of longing was crawling its way up to her feet, entangling her. She can't miss him. She shouldn't miss him. She mustn't miss him. It's forbidden. It will take her over the bridge that leads to insanity. His face must be wiped clean from her mind every time she closes her eyes. His voice must be blocked out from her ears whenever she's alone and thinking. His touch. His heartbeat. His frame made of iron. His caresses. His embrace. He—

Should not be remembered.

Should not be forgotten.

Should be locked away in the farthest depths of her mind.

Should be right next to her.

Funny. Not even a day without Zazie and it was already driving her bonkers. Emi wasn't like this. She never had a closest friend, not as close as Zazie. Not too close for her to catch feelings. Yes. This was normal. She should long for him. She should be afraid to be without him. She should be afraid to lose him. Afraid that someone else might come along. Might make him forget about her.

No.

This wasn't normal.

This isn't how a friend thinks.

It's—

"—driving you mad."

What?

She looked over at Mia, who has a genuine look of confusion etched on her feat. Emi decided to show her that she didn't hear her completely. "I said," she began, "Your thinking's driving you mad. Stop it."

So she did.

"What are you thinking about, anyway?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Just wanna know."

Emi avoided her gaze. "I don't feel the need to tell you,"

"Oh?" she said. "But you would tell Zazie?"

She eyed her. "Zazie's a friend. Of course I would tell him."

"Yeah, right," Mia scoffed and rolled her eyes. "That guy's a selfish jerk."

"Look at what you're doing and ask yourself who's more selfish."

Mia snapped. "Just shut up you little—," she cut herself off and sat back down, taking deep breaths. Now calmed down, she instead shot her a glare that faltered. "We're doing this for a reason. We need this." She said shakily, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm, before dipping her head some. "You just won't understand our plan."

Emi simply eyed Mia, letting her words hang in the air unanswered. It was best to not continue this conversation, knowing that it might just stir up a mishap of some sort—and Emi hasn't even gotten in their hideout. A long day was ahead of her. She needs to stay low on the radar and prevent something bad from happening.

The hooves of the horses stomping on the ground came to a slower cadence, and it was then that Emi guessed that they have reached their destination. She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them. It was time. She was here, in the now. She can't turn back, she can't attempt to escape. For the others—she was doing this for the others. To avoid more and more comrades from being hurt. To cause less pain. To prevent any more grief.

"Hop down and follow me," Mia firmly said, hopping down the carriage herself. She glared back at Emi, apparently still angry about their dispute from earlier. "And don't try anything funny. We carry real guns here, if you haven't noticed."

Emi then stood up and leaped down the carriage, slipping for a moment before catching her own fall. It was quite hard to move around with hands tied behind the back. Her eyes traveled to Mia's, and she simply gestured Emi to tail behind her as she strolled toward the entrance of their hideout.

It was simply a rickety and old building, probably an old clinic or orphanage, with gigantic wooden twin doors that was guarded by two of their members, who, as expected, wore cloaks. Emi raised a brow at the guards, inwardly wondering why they had to ward the place when it was practically deserted. They were at the very corner of Yuusari, Emi guessed, where it was slightly darker and lesser populated than that of Yuusari Central. However, maybe those facts were exactly why they had to secure their hideout. They had to make sure it was as it is—hidden and derelict, so as to make others think that it wasn't the hideout. Emi was impressed.

"I've brought one," Mia told the two guards, who moved from their posts and came near Emi, inspecting her by grabbing her by the chin and looking her in the eye. One of them nodded and signalled Mia to enter, opening the large doors.

She has brought one? How many should she exactly bring? Emi wasn't a possession of some sort. But they were talking about her like she was an object to be used, and treating her just as well. She wasn't a person to them. And from that moment, she wondered how far they would go just to treat a human being as an item in this place. What do they exactly do in this abandoned building? What do they do to someone like her?

Emi silently followed. They had lethal weapons. It was either die in a bloody bath or die knowing that she had done it for the sake of other people. She would, of course, choose the latter. Escaping is futile. They had real guns. Escaping is futile. They had real guns. She repeated this over and over in her mind as she let her eyes dart around her surroundings.

The interior defined the exterior of the building—as rickety and abandoned, with not so high ceilings and old brick walls with cracks here and there. The space before them was a little wide, and was probably a former lounge of some sort. There was a second floor, and from where she stood, she could see the wooden doors slightly hidden behind the improvised wooden railings that would easily mean her future place to stay in, day and night. She confirmed the hideout was a former orphanage after seeing plenty of doors on the first and second floor—

Feminine cries and masculine shrieks were heard from behind some of the doors on the second floor and Emi snapped her attention towards them and she inhaled sharply. Fear was making her fingers shake, shock was making her legs tremble, and anxiety was making her heart go wild. It takes her a milliseconds to inhale and exhale. Sweat was trickling down her temples and she was made of ice.

"In here," Mia called out, hand on the handle of a door at the far end of the lounge. "Someone's expecting you."

She evened her breath. Get in, talk to that someone, get out, and spend the eternity dying slowly for the sake of her comrades—that was the plan. No one should come for her, no one will come for her. So she inhaled, and let her legs do the work for her. She walked up towards the door, not sparing a glance at Mia, who opened it for her. She went in—

A hard blow on her back was more than enough to make her knees kiss the ground with a harsh crack and her face to meet the cold, hard floor. Her eyes were beginning to glisten with tears and she was squinting and blinking them away. She kept her head planted on the ground, not wanting to see the horrible sight ahead of her.

"Ah, so you're the so-called Emi Hunter, huh?" A deep and powerful voice detonates her name. They've talked about her? They should have. Mia and Hiro works for them. A heavy boot was pressed into her back and she couldn't lift her head to see who's talking to her. "You, release her. I want to see her face."

The weight of the boot was lifted, but its imprint decided to stay on her back, which was starting to become sore. She didn't look up. She doesn't want to. She might be blinded. So she kept her head hanging low until a hand pulled on her hair aggressively, forcing her to look up and shut her eyes tight. It hurts it hurts it hurts, but she kept it all in and slowly fluttered her eyes open.

She was instantly intimidated and struck by his youth. He can't be older than twenty-five, with a body made of steel and lineaments too sharp and defined. His eyes were deep and overshadowed by the dim lights. His stature gave off an aura filled with authority. And it scared and disgusted Emi.

"Stand up," he ordered, but she failed to understand what those words meant.

The hand that was holding onto her hair shoved her head aside harshly, her body following the direction her head went and once again meeting the ground with a soft thud. She didn't budge, and another boot kicked her in the gut, hard and fast. "He said stand up, didn't he?" one of his henchmen said, but Emi couldn't decipher what he looks like.

Her vision was blurring against the ground as she heaved herself up to her knees, stumbling some before hitting the ground on her bottom. Lifting her own head required more endurance than she could've thought. Her lungs were giving up on her, her eyes were slowly losing its ability to see, her muscles weren't muscles anymore, and her hands behind her back were numb. Even swallowing her own saliva was torture.

"That wasn't necessary, Shin," the man said in mock disappointment. "Just get her to her feet."

He didn't say 'gently,' however, so Shin helped her up in the same manner of belligerence and unmercifulness, grabbing one of her numb arms and pulling it up. She stumbled to catch her fall, keeping her head low and letting herself fall a tad, Shin's arm still holding her into place. The aches from their blows remained on the spots they've hit, and it was so hard so hard so hard to move.

A boot was not far from her own feet, and she looked up. It was him, smiling down on her, as if everything they had done to her was a form of entertainment. She hates him. She hates him she hates him she hates him. "You're a stubborn girl, aren't ya?" He was grinning. "You never want to cooperate. You let everyone get into so much trouble because of your being so hard-to-get. Why won't you be like the others and just let us take you?"

She swallows a lump in her throat.

"But you're here now, so why don't I tell you what I tell every unfortunate grey-eyed person?" Emi stayed silent as she watched him trace his own jaw in amusement, strutting slowly, left to right. He eyed her, still plodding about. "You have something I want, of course. Something that is obviously not seen in many of the Amberground citizens, aside from that pretty face." He ceased walking, but his eyes were still on hers.

"You want my blood." Emi finished for him, a surge of courage suddenly filling up her veins after recalling what Rose had informed them.

He blinked, clearly taken aback and impressed. "Correct," he said. "I need your blood. And that is why you're a part of this project of mine. You don't have the privilege of accepting or declining. You're going to end up dead, either way." He went up to her and grabbed her chin. She hitched her breath. "But a face like yours just makes me want to spare your life a little. It would be such a waste to let you die so quickly."

"It's a waste to let many people die without reason."

He cackled heartily. "Without reason?" He echoed mockingly before pointing his gun at her nose, using it as a substitute for his index finger. He chuckled. "You should be grateful! I'm doing this for the sake of those who are dying! Your blood can heal numbers of sicknesses! Your blood is a blessing to this god-forsaken land, and I'm putting it to good use. What else is going to waste, hm?"

A sudden rage coursed through her body. "I hope you rot in hell."

He flexes his jaw and before Emi could properly react, his fist landed an agonising blow to her cheek, powerful enough to make her fall on the ground with a thud. She was too shocked to comprehend anything, other than the stinging pain of the blow.

"My family died because of some bullshit sickness I don't even know," he hissed. "Most of my friends died. Some of my friends' families died. All because of some 'incurable' sickness that had spread throughout Yodaka one fucking day. And we were all so fucking poor we couldn't afford a drop of those goddamn expensive medicine. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE THE HELL THAT PLAGUE CAME FROM!" He bellowed, inhaling and exhaling deeply. He bent down to her level, sticking his finger to her chin. "So don't you dare say all of this is a waste. Wanna see what a waste is? HUH?"

Everything was happening too fast and he pulled the trigger and fired in some direction Emi couldn't look at. She flinched. She cowered in fear. She couldn't hear couldn't see couldn't feel until he grabbed her by the collar and looked her fiercely in the eye. He pointed towards the direction he shot. She doesn't want to look she shouldn't look she will not look—

He made her look. He made her look at the sight of his co-conspirator lying on the pool of his own blood.

"That's a waste."

She sees red all over.

"Put her in with the Zaphiris lady." She heard him say, his voice becoming fuzzy and distant.

By the time they were hoisting her up to her feet, she could barely hear. All she sees were black and white dots. She was made of air. She was floating. She swore she saw Mia standing before her. Was that regret in her eyes? Shock? Fear? Everything was blurry. And she was out.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open. She blinked 1,000 times before feeling sore all over and as if a grand piano was sitting on top of her. She was a wreck, and she could tell. It was like she had been unconscious for months—until a thought struck her wide awake, causing her to abruptly sit up and groan due to the muscle pains.

Shin. Mia. Her blood. The huge guy who was their boss. The old orphanage. Punches and boots to her back. Falling on the ground. Gunfire. A pool of blood—

She snapped her head around her, and sure enough, she was in a cold and confined room, and a pair of grey orbs were staring into her own eyes. She jumped and scurried away from the strange woman who was with her, still eyeing her with wide owl-like eyes. What struck Emi was the fact that this lady doesn't seem to be far older than her. And she has sworn she has seen that familiar shade of reddish hair—

She moved a single muscle and Emi couldn't help but scuttle into a corner, fear shaped like shadows consuming her from behind the cracks of the walls. "I won't hurt you," the woman said with a voice like a cherub's, presenting her the rope that was tied around her hands. She must've untied it for her. "You're one of us."

"O-O-O-One of you?" Emi stammered, surprised by her own faltering voice.

She smiled, pointing to her eyes. "The same shade as mine, right? And many others as well." She said, before curling her lips into a frown as her eyes studied Emi as if she were a piece of specimen. "Oh, they sure battered you up. It must've been painful. No one comes here clean."

"Wh—Why are we in the same room?" Emi wondered out loud. "What are they gonna do to us?"

"Well, I figured the place was quite small for all of us to handle. We're not as few as you think, you know?" She said with a wink, as if everything around her wasn't in chaos and she wasn't being devoured by anxiety and fear. It was then that Emi noticed her lack of colour—besides her beautiful red hair—and how thin she was. "Unfortunate as we are, I'm glad they've put us in with the company of our own kind. It makes things less… worse."

"Less… worse?" she echoed.

"They take our blood for their own selfish reasons," she deadpanned, "draining it out of our bodies like sap from a tree. You can't find our blood anywhere else, so selling it in the form of medicine costs great fortune. They use us to make a living. We're merely objects for them to use."

Emi heaved short breaths. "H-H-How did they… know? About our blood?"

"Shiro Demikhov," she simply answered. "He studied obsessively about the history of Amberground, learning about the Itzpapalotl and the capabilities of her blood. Fascinated by this, he stole the one and only preserved blood of Itzpapalotl, and experimented on this continuously until he was able to make a medicine that would heal any kind of sickness. This was during the time of the plague in Yodaka. So he crossed the bridge to get there, and tested his masterpiece to a dying pregnant woman. As expected of his experiment, she was cured and gave birth successfully, but, much to Shiro's surprise and interest, the woman became blind upon waking up, and her baby bore grey eyes, which was never seen among the citizens of Amberground.

"This piqued his curiosity, so he stole the baby so that he could conduct more experiments about his discovery—getting the baby's blood and injecting it into more sick people, getting the same results. The government heard about this miraculous event, and so they sent him a letter, persuading him into moving to Akatsuki, where he'll be given riches. Upon knowing this, he instantly set foot into Akatsuki, taking with him all of his equipment for experimenting. He did, however, leave behind the people he had cured. The people with grey eyes.

"The plague lasted in Yodaka for a very long time, killing thousands of Yodakans. But, secretly, those who possessed grey eyes have been helping their friends and relatives by fusing their rare blood with the blood of the sick. Most of them still died, and most became blind, passing away later on." She sighed and shook her head. "Only a few of these grey-eyed people lived, and when Kent found out about all of this, he took this opportunity to form a group called The Tzitzimimeh, whose sole purpose is to take all of the grey-eyed people and drain them of their blood, so that he can prevent more and more Yodakans from dying. He believes he chose the right path, refusing to see how life works.

"While one lives, one dies. That is how the world maintains balance," she added dejectedly. She was wise despite her youth. "If too much of us are living, it will lead to a much more drastic Amberground. More people means more need in basic necessities, and the government is much too selfish to provide all of us even just a portion. Even if we do die from this doing… we only take a very small percentage of Amberground's population."

Emi blinked at her. "How do you know all this?"

She beamed. "Reading is my hobby, until they took me away."

"So all of this… is a waste," Emi mumbled to herself, curled up upon the corner. "I wasn't wrong."

The girl giggled. "That must be why he's battered you. You've got guts, I'll tell you that."

"What do you mean?"

"Nobody has ever stood up to Kent, since he's reckless, intimidating and too hostile."

Remembering the events from earlier, she guessed that the man who hit her earlier was Kent. She ducked her head a tad, flinching. "He shot a man in front of me." She said, cringing as images began flashing in and out of her mind. ("Even if he's doing evil, I feel sorry for that guy…" the girl muttered.) Her head was starting to ache, until she remembered something the girl had mentioned not too long ago. She raised her head and eyed the woman. "What's an Itzpapalotl?"

"'The Obsidian Butterfly,' that's the other name of the Itzpapalotl." She immediately answered. "It was believed to be living among the Spirit Insects ages ago, and has taken the shape of a fairy—a woman with butterfly-like wings that would spread wide. She's the patron of—,"

"—women in labor." Emi finished for her.

She blinked at Emi, astounded. "That's right. How did you know?"

"Rose told me." she absent-mindedly answered.

"Rose? The leader of the Letter Pigeons?"

"Yes. How do you know her?"

"What's your name?"

Emi blinked. "Emi."

"Well, Emi, nice to meet you," the woman smiled warmly. "I'm Cho, Rose's younger sister."

A/N: Oh God you don't know how many sites I've searched for this Itzpapalotl and Tzitzimitl (and how to make a good villain LOL). AND HOW MANY HOURS I'VE SPENT JUST BY THINKING OF THE BACKSTORY OF THE ITZPAPALOTL AND EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS CHAPTER. My brain is dead.

Anyway, oooooohhhh, we finally meet Rose's long lost sister! So stay tuned for the next chapter! (Which is already done 'cause I was so excited…)

Facts and Fictions, just 'cause:

Cho means butterfly in Japanese. Guess why I had to name her that.

The Itzpapalotl is originally from Aztec mythology, and I just made her look beautiful. She doesn't really look like that, but since this is a work of fiction, anything can happen, lol. Also, the Tzitzimitl is a part of Aztec mythology, and Itzpapalotl was believed to be a part of this group whom midwives worship, since, yes, they are the protectors of women during childbirth. (Source: Wikipedia; Villains Wikia)

In Aztec mythology, a Tzitzimitl [t͡siˈt͡simit͡ɬ] (plural Tzitzimimeh [t͡sit͡siˈmimeʔ]) is a deity associated with stars. They were depicted as skeletal female figures wearing skirts often with skull and crossbone designs. In Postconquest descriptions they are often described as "demons" or "devils" - but this does not necessarily reflect their function in the prehispanic belief system of the Aztecs. They preyed on the weak: the young, the old, and the sick – and devour them whole. During solar eclipse's they would descend to Earth and kill anyone they could find. It was said that one Tzitzimitl could kill 100 humans at the time time. (Source: eskify; Wikipedia) [I named the group Tzitzimimeh because of them killing hundreds of humans. That's about it, lol.]

Shiro and Demikhov are two names of mad scientists in history. (Yup and I cringe because of reading their mad doings. Really, they're not called 'mad scientists' for nothing…) (Source: oddee)

* - While it's true that Rose had already explained to them about the Itzpapalotl, she didn't, however, tell them what it was.