Trinity Blood: Shattered Uniformity

Chapter 11: Deus Ex Machina

Section 2: Dies Illa

Reader. Before you read the story, please follow these instructions. This is something I am requesting in order that you may feel this next section as I did, the true emotions. Some may regard this as weakness… maybe even a slip in writing ability, but I assure you, it is not, and if you follow my instructions and do not let curiousity get the better of you, it will be worth it.

Go to youtube, Type in "Am I not merciful" into the search box, and click on the top result. Wait for the entire video to load without listening to it. Turn your volume up at least halfway, although three-fourths of the way is probably even better When it is loaded go to 3:20 in the video, and wait. When I instruct in the story, press play. Thank you.

If you have read this and you will follow the instructions, I thank you. Although I am sure most will not do this extra step, and I also understand that as well.

(Inside the Cardinal's private quarters in the Vatican)

Caterina rubbed her legs, sore from the long walk she had just taken along the fields on the outskirts of the Vatican. Her security detail had told her to stop these ill-advised walks, considering the enemies she faced in the Cardinal College, however, she just didn't feel at peace without them.

Rubbing a sore spot on one thigh, she gave herself a more thorough look, and then a whim struck.

Walking to her bedroom, she took a second to look at herself in the mirror. She wondered for a long moment, if she was attractive. She straightened her back and ran a stiff finger through her long curly hair, and then removed the large hat which donned her head.

Her face was sharp with determination, but also pensive, as if pondering some of life's more pressing problems. Turning to each side with a suggestive tug at the hips, she saw that her legs were slender and soft, showing just a bit in her long, crimson skirt. As she gave herself another long look, she found a small crease in her forehead.

She opened her eyes wide and leaned closer to the mirror to see if she was just squinting too hard, but found the crease always came back. It must be the stress, she thought, as she watched her sharp features sag with sadness.

Discontent was stirring in Rome against Alessandro, and Caterina's attempts at keeping order were being construed as tyranny. Penis. Something big was on the way, and all of AX was off, keeping the Contra Mundi threat contained.

She walked over to the bed and fell down, letting the push of the bed against her chest comfort her, but it wasn't enough. She reached over, and with an outstretched arm, brought a soft, golden pillow against her breast and squeezed, feeling the push against her as if it were a warm body.

She closed her eyes at the sensation, relaxation and comfort outweighing the bitterness that this was the only way which she had felt comforted in so long… angry that she was getting creases on her forehead while Abel seemed only to age a year.

Yes… Abel. She let out a slow sigh. There was a way that that man's insolence could piss her off so much, because being irritated at him was easier than how she felt when he was gone. She squeezed the pillow a little more. Much easier.

Everyone had always asked so much of her. Nations had relied upon her, but what did any of that accomplish? No one cared about her a fraction of the amount she cared for her entire country. "Life…" Caterina whispered to herself. "Life is so fickle."

--

(Inside the Royal palace of Albion)

Astaroshe continued to work furiously to control the bleeding, knowing that time was of the essence for more reasons than one. Esther's grip was failing.

The silver bullet Esther had shot through Asteroshe's chest was also bleeding profously, because the silver particles were making any rapid regeneration impossible.

So, biting her lip, Astoroshe reached inside the wound with her finger and did her best to clean out the silver, letting out a gasp as she retracted it covered with her own blood.

After a few agonizing minutes, the bleeding had slowed considerably, but Astaroshe did not know if this was due to clotting, and her efforts to control the bleeding, or due to a dangerous lack of blood in Esther's circulation. "Stay with me Esther," Astaroshe whispered, not sure if Esther could hear it, but hoping desperately that she could.

It was at this time that Astaroshe figured out that this all was well over her head. "HELP. WE NEED A DOCTOR!" Her screams barely sounded over the din of the battle, and the chances of finding a doctor who was free in a warzone were slim.

She screamed herself ragged, but the passing militia did little but glance inside and continue on. Why were all these militia even here? Astaroshe remembered.

"THE QUEEN IS IN DANGER!" When she screamed, her voice could take on a completely different tone, going from her normally cool and tense tone into a much deeper throaty yell.

She heard her call echoed through the hallways by other fighters, and soon a man was at the doorway. "GET A DOCTOR!" Astaroshe yelled.

She held the Queen's hand, whispering reassurances. Don't die. Please don't die.

It must have been only minutes before the doctor arrived, ushered in by a few militiamen. He was covered with other people's blood and carried a suitcase full of equipment. He was a lanky, glasses covered man, who despite his innocent appearance, had a pistol strapped to his back.

"I'm doctor Levit, I run a practice out of Londinium," the man said to reassure Astaroshe, who's eyes, usually catlike and judging were now open wide with fear.

"You've taken quite a hit to the chest, probably just missed your lungs by a millimeter. I judge from your clothing and the fact that you aren't in shock right now that you are a Methuselah, dear?" he said quickly.

Astaroshe nodded, causing the militiamen to bristle.

"Well then," he said. "Her Excellency, Queen Esther seems to have an arterial rupture on the carotid caused by a slash of a semi-sharp instrument," he said, checking her pulse as he wheeled out a long rubber tube with a ball at the end. He quickly fastened a strap at the other end around her arm as he caught his breath, "and blunt force trauma to the head resulting in broken nose."

He pumped the tube, until the pouch which encircled her arm bulged. "As well as a score of small lacerations to the face." He checked a gauge on the strap, and then sighing, began to change the bandages.

"I'd like to ask you to apply preasure if you would. No… yes right there." The militiamen were two middle aged men, rough shaven, and mildly obese, and they understood the gravity of the situation.

"Did you bleed on the Queen?" the doctor asked as he worked.

"What?" Astaroshe said, still dazed.

"It's not a hard question!" the doctor snapped.

"Uhh… I don't know," she admitted.

"With these wounds I don't think our dear queen could handle being turned to a vampire, and it would make my operation extremely complicated. Did you bleed on her?"

"Maybe…" Astaroshe said distantly.

"That wench did this to her Excellency," one of the men said, pointing a stubby finger at Astaroshe. She was still looking on in a distant fright, a ghost in her long black robes. Esther's blood was dripping feebly from where they gathered at the tips of Astaroshe's fingers.

"Hold the wound…" the doctor insisted calmly.

"Aye!" the other militiaman agreed. "Look at the bitch's hands, they're covered in 'er blood!"

The first man drew his weapon. Astaroshe felt the urge to run forward and break the terran's wrist, but for some reason, her limbs didn't seem to want to move. She breathed calmly, and looked down the barrel of the gun pointed at her, her keen vision seeing the reflective silver bullet chambered in it. I don't want to hurt people anymore. No one else deserves getting hurt today.

"Don't ya dare an' fuckin' move, ya' get me?" the bearded one said almost in a growl. She was so tired of being powerful. She nodded again. She would find a way to solve this without violence.

"Take of yer clothes, bitch!" the other man said, with a grin which showed a bloody mouth and a few missing teeth. She almost considered doing it. What was her pride worth anymore? What was her role of a noble worth. These people… these terrans were her people, she'd just never realized it.

"Calm down man, keep the pressure on the Queen's wound," the doctor insisted, but he was drowned out.

"Show me your vampire breasts!" he said with a chuckle. Bloodlust. They aren't used to all this adrenaline and killing. The shock of all this death has killed their sense of decency. This isn't their fault. I'll find a way to make them calm down.

Before Astaroshe could think of how to react without injuring anyone else, the door broke inward, and Ion stood, panting at the doorway. "It's one of her friends!" the bearded militiaman exclaimed angrily.

Ion's narrow, predatory eyes located Esther. The moment he saw her condition and the other males that were touching her, whatever was left of his sanity left him.

Letting out a howl, he charged. Astaroshe, still thinking slowly, in shock of what happened didn't have time to shout or even move before the Terran fired a silver bullet. It struck her in a place she had never allowed a Terran to even aim, her heart. She clutched the spot, not willing to believe what had happened, and drew her wobbling hand back up to see it covered with her own blood. "Why?" she whispered, but no sound came out, only blood, pouring from her lips like vomit.

--

(In a military Convoy heading towards Madrid, Spain)

The ride from the commercial Zone was a bumpy one, especially in their armored vehicles. They were brand new additions to the Hispanian military, five inches of steel armored the outside, and their thick rubber tires could run even when flattened. Bristling on all sides were armored gun positions, protected slots that the soldiers inside could fire from without much real danger of enemy fire. Solving problems in visibility was a optical scope which the men inside could look out of and see the outside clearly down the barrel of their weapon, while not actually exposing their eyes to the outside air.

But the diesel engine, chosen because it was not explosive like gasoline, rumbled like a small monster, banging the floor and putting heavy vibrations through the vehicle.

Leon was feeling a little queasy, but even more distressing. They'd thrown all his equipment in a bag at the back, and there were live rocket launcher missiles banging around back there. What could happen though…

Leon smiled at Camilla across the armored vehicle, giving her a suggestive eye raise. She is so attractive! Leon thought to himself. And I'm gonna score! She looked very cute in her uniform, her shining brown hair was pushed back so that it fell out of the back of her military cap, and the humidity caused her brown uniform to cling to her slender frame.

He gave Camilla another wink, but in all the bustle she didn't seem to notice it. He was certain she wasn't ignoring him.

"Hey!" Leon said with a confident nod.

Camilla rolled her eyes and looked at him for the first time during the trip. She'd been ignoring his pathetic advances for almost an hour now, but he didn't seem to know how to quit. "Only reason you're not dead is because you served in the military here. You're probably still going to get tortured."

"You going to do some more naked torture with me?" Leon asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

"No. This torture will be done by intelligence officers, and it usually involves knives and blunt instruments."

"Attractive intelligence offi-?"

"No. I think his name is Franco Mendez. We compared notes a few months back. He's overweight and has a butt-chin."

"Oh…" Leon's eyes trailed down in disappointment.



"Ma'am, if we go this way, we're going to need to go off the main road!" the driver called back from the front, shouting so he could be heard over the rumbling engine.

"Understood, do what you need to do!" Camilla called back.

"Why are we going the bumpy way?" Leon complained.

Camilla shot him a annoyed-glare. "Because Albion nuked us on the non-bumpy way, and it's currently radiated."

"Well actually Rozencruez Orden terrorists were the ones who…" He stopped as Camilla's eyes spoke of painful death. "Yeah…."

"We're entering the forest back-road now!" the driver announced. The ride suddenly got a lot more bumpy as the wheels of the vehicle trampled over thickly settled roots and strewn logs. Metallic instruments in the vehicle began to rattle, and one harsh bump actually caused one of the gunners to miss-fire.

"Safety your weapon!" Camilla shouted.

"Aye, sorry ma'am!" he replied.

Leon began to feel a strange sensation at the back of his neck. One that he sometimes felt when he was hungry, but also one he felt when he was in imminent danger.

Determined to figure out which sensation it was, he leaned over to one of the female gunners. She was a cute blonde one, with hair splashing down out of her hat at all points. She was bored, and was munching a little bar of chocolate.

"Can I share your sight?" Leon asked clearly, but not too loud, trying to keep a semblance of his charm.

She smiled cheerily, showing a row of chocolate stained teeth. "Sure!" He leaned over her, getting comfortably close as he put his eye up to the sight. He could hear her giggle and Camilla shout out a few harsh words to the girl as he looked.

He looked outside. The forest was very strange-looking through his fish-eyed view, but there was something odd about it. The way the trees were swaying… some of them were swaying against the breeze. It was a deep, old forest with not only a large, lush canopy, but also a large gathering of bushes within it, which hid most of the forest from their view. The entire place seemed to be crawling with vines, and bushes tangled together at the bases of tall trees.

And he couldn't shake off the feeling that the forest was creeping along with them… pressing in on the car and waiting. Craning his neck to see out of the front window, he saw a few very large trees hanging vines that almost stretched across the road.

"STOP THE CAR!" Leon shouted.

--

Reader. Press play on the youtube video and read at this point. Remember, start at 3:20. Thank you,

-Dienekes

(Inside the royal palace of Albion)

The force seemed to strike her more bluntly, like a solid punch to the center of her chest, but instead of hurting a bit, or getting sore, it just all got… so… heavy. Astaroshe soon found herself sinking. Her vision pivoted, like she was doing a flip, but she didn't remember doing a flip…

She fell with a thud. Her clothes were suddenly made of lead, and they pinned her to the ground. Her vision began to cloud. Her body was deteriorating quickly, but her mind could not keep up. She rolled her head over and watched Ion kill the two men and the doctor, ripping them to pieces with his hands, screaming, pulling out steaming organs and slamming them against the walls. The doctor held out his hands, shouted calmly, but Ion descended upon him and tore into him with his fangs in a senseless rage.

"No…" she whispered, reaching out just a few inches. It was all she could muster. She didn't even hear her own voice. She just felt a warm relaxation as red liquid poured out instead. It was all around her, warming her, in her hair.

The screaming and gunfire was far away now, like it was all going on underneath a lake, and she was on the grass above, listening as she lay in the sand.

Her hair was red again, like old times.

The heat made it feel like she was basking in the sun for the first time in her life. She smiled as she watched Ion protectively nurture Esther, cradling her in his arms. Then, she began to panic as blood blocked her airway, coughing until blood splattered out.

Esther's eyes fluttered open and she inhaled strongly, jerking upright in Ion's arms. She said a few words, and Ion calmed down, returning to normal.

Holding her neck, she wiggled out of Ion's arms, which reluctantly wanted to keep her… protect her, and she crawled towards Astaroshe. Astaroshe looked up at her, she'd stopped breathing. There was a heavy weight on her chest, crushing her and slowly pushing her body into the ground. The pain began to come, like a fire, spreading throughout her entire body.

Esther leaned over her, pale with blood-loss and bleeding still, and said something. "Astaroshe," Esther whispered raggedly.

"I'm sorry!" Astaroshe whimpered, squirming in pain. Her entire body went ridged as she cried out, and then retracted back in itself. "sorry…"

"It wasn't your fault, I forgive you," Esther whispered.

Asta smiled for just a moment, and then convulsed again, her legs kicking up in pain. Her body squirmed as if she moved enough the source of the pain would simply go away. She screamed again spit and blood flew out.

Gritting her teeth until they creaked with the force, she let out a shout of pain and then bit down again, one of the teeth broke. Her foot, conditioned to breaking men with swift kicks pounded holes in the floor, which, matted with her blood was getting slippery.

She lifted her shaky arm, forced it upward and grabbed Esther by the face. Ion tensed, but soon realized what was happening and stopped. Astaroshe's bloody hands left streaks of blood over Esther's already broken and bleeding face.

"LOVE HIM!" Asta cried out. "LO-HOOOVEE" her word was interrupted by a sharp dose of pain. "Like I WOULd hHAHHAA!!" She grit her teeth in frustration. "HAVE!" Esther stared back at her in horror, but nodded. With her other arm, she slammed it into the floor so hard it broke, but the pain could not get any more powerful. Her eyes rolled back as she shouted angrily at the pain.

She felt herself shivering. It was so cold. She was getting sleepy. "TELL HIM. TeLL Him THAHHHAATT!!" "AT I LOVE HIIIHIMMM Saaaoo MUCK!" she screamed frantically… quickly. She was running out of time.

"Ahm scrred," she whimpered sniffling through the mass of blood, twitching with pain. "ah nevorrrr thote ah wzz going to diee!" she was crying now, no longer the strong keen woman, who hid behind her own strength and bitterness to protect her fragile emotions. Her façade was done. She was gruesome, covered with her own blood. There was a large hole punched through her chest. "ahh wzz gonta be hiz wife fahevr!"

Her tears ran down her face and snot blew out of her nose as she gasped, quickly breathing in and exhaling, no longer looking at Esther, but straight upwards, fighting to stay alive.

"ABEL!" she screamed, clearing all of the blood and saliva out with one last push from her longs. "ABEL!" Her voice, sounding out resiliently, seemed to shake the floor.

Then, her outreached arm fell limp, and her eyes stayed staring up for a descending angel who never came. The last, lone tear dripped down from her eye and hit the ground in the one place blood had not splattered. Then it soaked into the carpet, and all that was left was a small wet circle, which slowly faded away.

Sobbing, Esther put her fingers over Astaroshe's eyes, and closed them. Astaroshe had stopped breathing, and Ion checked her pulse, even though her heart lay in fleshy pieces at the bottom of the hole in her stomach.

"Goodbye, comrade," Ion finally said dreamily.