Sophia's Chronicles
Recap: Sam, Dean and Zara investigate a mill known to involve high demon activity and discover that Crowley is using it for some unknown reason. Sam is extracting all the CCTV footage while Zara goes after Crowley to get her blade and Dean tries to rescue some possible hostages. In the flashback, Esther is forced to teach Zara magic so that she can contact Sophia and work out a way to help Lucifer be free of the traps in his vessel. They try to establish a 'connection' which causes Zara to black out.
Chapter 75: Tit-For-Tat
The Void
"The Sun rises but it's dark. Water flows but the mountains are still," I recited from one of the big screens in the Omniverse. "Wait, this doesn't make any sense. Are we sure we've got it right?"
"We're in the freakin' Void," Sixty-Six chimed in from next to me. The alternate-Me, a version made completely of Darkness yet having lead a life that closely resembled mine, preferred to stay by my side. "Nothing makes sense here."
"Yeah. Remember the time Fifty-Five walked through a door and came back in literal pieces?" Eighty said. We all cringed a little. "We're all in one giant Saw trap. You've all seen Saw, right?"
A collective sigh fell over them. It was less of a response to the human culture reference and more towards the general hopelessness we had. It was true. The Void was as unpredictable as Lucifer's moral compass. I huffed. The thought made me chuckle. One moment you think you have an idea of the floorplan, the next, it all shifts and someone dies. How did I ever manage to get around this place before? Was it under one of the Khaos' control? As it turned out, the more pressing question was to figure out how it all worked (and how to prevent losing our numbers).
What we'd figured out so far was measly but fundamental. Firstly, the Omniverse was the most important place in the Void. Khaos' office, the one with the many screens. It's what all the Defenders were trying to keep us from so it had to be crucial somehow. One time, two of my doppelgangers were fighting over something menial – it so happened that this sort of petty argument was the only entertainment around here – and one of them struck a button on the interface that controlled the monitors. We had all been wary of the buttons, afraid that a wrong push could cause absolute devastation. It might have felt just like that at the time, because we were all subject to an intense amount of high-pitched ringing in our ears. Immediately, we'd fallen to our knees, struggling to keep the noise out. Hell, I could barely open my eyes. Until Sixty-Six slammed the button again and the noise stopped.
She was standing among a sea of fallen Us-es, the only one seemingly unaffected. "Y'all alright?" she casually asked.
"What the hell was that?!" someone exclaimed.
"It felt like…" Thirty-Seven took a gander, only after a drained, weary gulp. "It felt like people calling to me."
"Yeah, like prayers," another said. Now that we were all calm, I could replay the noise in my head again. I found it to be true. Over and over again, I heard the voices of people calling out my name. Some, I recognised. Oh God. Zara, Lucifer, Raziel, all of them. Had they been trying all this time?
"I didn't know that I could be ambushed by prayers," Fifty-Five had said. I'd only been gone from my universe for a short while – in Earth time, that is. I could only imagine what the others had felt, those who had been gone for millions of years.
"Khaos must have put up some kind of barrier," I guessed. "Something that would prevent external contact. To make us feel… truly alone. The button must have deactivated it."
A solemn silence fell among us. "It's nice… to finally hear the voices of my children again," Eighty said. "But for the love of sanity, let's never do that again."
"Hey, how come nothing happened to her?" Thirty-Seven looked suspiciously at Sixty-Six, who only huffed and cynically grinned.
"I'm Satan, remember? Everyone hates me," she shrugged. That's settled, then.
This had only been the first of many revelations of the many functions that the interface in the Omniverse served. Forty-Two, the hybrid of Light and Darkness just like me (the first doppelganger I'd met), tried her hand at using the interface. She was the only one who actually had some experience with the thing, having worked closely with Khaos before. Her experience suggested that knowing how to operate the interface in the Omniverse was the key to knowing what the hell went on in the Void.
The second thing we'd found out was that we weren't alone. There were far more entities in the Void than we'd realised. Two of us who'd been patrolling some new corner of the place ran into some less-than-friendly Timekeeper deities, who'd threatened to "kick the living time out of them" if we didn't leave them alone. I didn't completely understand the threat, but the tone and ferocity described by my doppelgangers was enough for me to decide that we should heed the warning. Luckily, the unpredictability of the floorplan might ensure that we never run into those Timekeepers again. Just 36 earth hours and the corners all would get switched around randomly.
And lastly, we figured out a plan to unlock Omega's cage. The last time I'd seen Him was in a 'projection' room, which only gave me the illusion that I'd found the cage when in fact, Omega had found a way to reach through the holes in the Void long enough to contact me without being spotted by Alpha. So finding the actual cage had to be part of the plan. On top of that, He'd said that I'd have to find something called the Keys of Conflict. There were six of them in total. Where they were, even He didn't know. So that was the second part of the plan. Easier said than done.
So this is where we were now. The whole army of us had split up, some searching for the cage and some searching for the keys. I felt nothing but relief for the fact that thousands of me were sharing the responsibility. I could only imagine how exhausting it would have been for me to work on this alone, searching for a tiny needle in the giant haystack that was the Void. Despite the unpredictability of the place, regular patrols were necessary, if only to make sure we wouldn't get attacked again. Unfortunately, this also meant that some of us disappeared or were lost to the intrinsic traps that had been set up, as one of my sisters mentioned. Yet, it also helped us get familiar with the place. Some landmarks were a regularity, like the windows to the universes. At some point or another, we'd all been tempted to jump into one to taste something other than blandness and emptiness. If anything, we were all bonded by a sense of duty to keep the events of the Void from spilling out.
The screen before me was displaying a translation of some kind of code one of us had run into while patrolling. Like a true me, she'd disregarded our warnings to come back within the 36-hour period to pursue a hunch about the floorplan. Having noted down a few of the previous combinations, she'd figured out another static point which seemed to be hidden among the shifting hallways and doors. We almost thought we'd lost her when she finally returned, burnt and battered by a scuffle with more Defenders. In her hand, she'd held a chip that fit into the interface and gave us a string of symbols. Luckily, there was a deciphering system built within the interface that Forty-Two brought up.
"The Sun rises but it's dark. Water flows but the mountains are still," it read.
"What kind of a place could that be?" Forty-Two pondered.
"It sounds kind of impossible, doesn't it?" Sixty-Six leaned on a palm planted on the large obsidian table containing the buttons. "Maybe this is just a distraction. Something to throw us off."
"Hidden deep within the fusiform matrix? Under level 3 encryption?" Eighty said in her typically snappy tone. She had a constant mild frown, like she always had a migraine.
"Khaos does like to screw with our minds, if you haven't noticed," Forty-Two replied, stepping between Sixty-Six and Eighty before their annoyed glares escalated to something more. "It is entirely possible. But I'd like to hold onto the hope that this clue could be of some use to us. Otherwise, Fifteen's sacrifices would have been for nothing."
"If that's the case, I don't wanna be the one to give her the news. Mercy be on those who find themselves at the business end of her blade," Sixty-Six huffed. She, of course, was referring to the one who'd found the clue – a version of us who'd known nothing but war. Fifteen was easily among the most skilled of us in combat and strategy. She also had a little bit of an anger problem, as we'd found. Currently, she was having her wounds tended to by others but even then, she was a force to be reckoned with.
"Considering that there are infinite universes, couldn't it be entirely possible that there is a place where it's still dark when the sun rises?" I ventured. "Creation could take a number of paths, as we've seen with our own selves."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean that creation takes on any and every plausible form," Forty-Two countered. "There are limits. There are laws that creation conforms to. Either way, I don't think the statement even makes any sense. 'Water flows but the mountains are still'? Are the mountains supposed to move?"
"The keys are as good as lost if we have to search every universe for mountains that move with water," Eighty sighed.
Hm. "Wait. What if the clue doesn't actually refer to a place?" I speculated. "I mean, why did we all assume we were looking for a place? What exactly is this code and why did Fifteen find it where she did?"
Sixty-Six perked up at the questions. It had occurred to us then that we didn't actually know. A lot of what we did were stabs in the dark, considering we also didn't get anything to work with most of the time. That was how hope-draining this whole situation was. But now we had something. Just as Forty-Two was about to say something, someone interrupted us. "Commander," Twenty Two appeared behind us, eyes wide and breath abated. "We found something. There's a strange… signal coming from the East wing. We think it's some kind of malfunction."
"A malfunction?" I looked past her to the door. "How's that possible? We haven't done anything."
"Yeah, sure. We only blinded Alpha and proved to be a general infection in the Void. Yeah, we haven't done anything," Sixty-Six snarkily interjected.
"I get it," I told her.
"I don't have a good feeling about this," the informant voiced. She nervously put a hand to her neck. "The way it sounded… it was harrowing. Whatever it is, prepare yourselves."
"Has anyone checked it out yet?" I asked.
"Yes, we've sent two of us there but…" she rubbed the back of her elbow this time.
"You don't have a good feeling," I realised. She nodded. "Okay, I'll go after them."
"Sophia," Forty-Two had a concerned expression. "We need you here."
"No, we need you here. You know how to work this stuff. Keep an eye on the interface," I ordered.
"What about the clue?" she pressed.
"You and Eighty can pay Fifteen a visit and try to work it out with her. I'll be back before the next shift," I promised.
"Then I'm coming with," Sixty-Six added, folding her arms resolutely. When I gave her a questioning look, she replied, "You're the Commander. We need you back. Meaning you need an armed escort."
"You sound like Lucifer," I sighed. I was going to discourage her but my own words made me rethink it. I accepted her company.
Hell – 6 months ago
"Stop hurting her! She didn't do anything," Zara yelled frantically, eyes wide as she trembled. She was sat on the floor with her hands positioned flat against the ground near her back, still as a statue where she'd fallen from her chair. To see so much happening at once was startling, especially when it involved a number of people just storming her room. Right now, her eyes were fixed on Esther, who was also on the ground but cowering before a demon who'd backhanded her.
"Zara, calm down. You're not thinking straight," Lucifer himself said, crouching and holding her cheek gently in his palm to direct her attention to him. Soon after he did that, her pulse slowed down to a more comfortable pace and she felt herself getting more grounded. "What did you see?"
"I- I…" her eyebrows crinkled in concentration. Trying to put it all together in one coherent sentence was a struggle. "I'm not sure."
Just as Zara was about to try to find the words, Lucifer tilted her head to look her in the eyes for a brief inspection. "She'd better not have Kentucky-fried your brain or something," he hoped, with a tone that was more of a threat. The encirclement of demons seemed to shift closer to Esther as their boss said that. They seemed to await the very words that would allow them to move in the drop of a hat. "I guess that's enough magic lessons for you today."
"B-but we're just getting started," Zara protested. It didn't seem to alter the general mood of the room – Lucifer's no-nonsense presence and the demons' hunger for Esther's fear. "We still have time left."
"Look at what she's done to you," Lucifer's cold blue eyes softened like she was some injured puppy. "You're all shaken." His head sharply turned to face the witch, causing the demons to perk up. "She could've hurt you."
"No… no-" Zara began, slowly shaking her head.
"Just say the word, boss," Dan's facial muscles clenched, anger burning in his eyes. It wasn't any ordinary anger – Zara could see the passion burning in him. It was present in him and all the demons. "No one messes with one of ours and gets away with it."
Zara could only see the blond peaks of the back of Lucifer's head as he slowly nodded in consideration of what the demon said. "No," she said, louder and more firmly this time. That certainly caught Lucifer's attention. "This is ridiculous. It's not her fault."
He observed her with the slightest narrowing of the eyes, the kind so subtle that one would be tempted to call it condescension but would also have to contend with the possibility of concern. Though the demons couldn't see his expression when he looked at her, they all seemed to have the same look themselves. "Maybe that's what she wants you to think," he simply said.
"Witches are known for their deception, m'lady," another British-sounding demon spoke up. "A little swim in the Lake of Fire could do her some good."
"And what do they say about demons, James?" Zara shot back. Some of the demons appeared to take offence at that, huffing audibly. Among the legs of the demons, Esther's almond eyes fell on her, their green as light as dry grass before a deserved rain and their shape round in nothing short of fear.
"Okay, cut it out, all of you," Lucifer chimed in, looking between his soldiers and Zara. "We're all just concerned about you. Can't you see that?" He paused briefly, only to sigh in rumination. "I took too much of a risk with this. You're not gonna do this anymore."
"Lucifer, please," she begged. "Give it another chance. We still have so much ground to cover."
"Take a nap, Zara. You're tired," he stated, getting up.
"No, no, wait, please," she stood up with him. "This is me. Like, purely me. I need to give this another shot."
He was so close to rolling his eyes to the back of his skull. "It's too risky. She could have you under some kind of spell and I can't have that," he reasoned sternly. "Look at how you're defending her right now. Maybe you don't see it. And hey, that's totally understandable," he shrugged, softening his voice to something more paternal. "But I know better so… listen to me, kay?"
Confusion would be an understatement to what Zara was feeling. She could feel her veins wanting to explode from the way he was talking to her. But instead, she kept calm and simply tilted her head slightly as far as it was polite to do so. "What do you mean… 'that's understandable'?" she asked.
Lucifer grimaced a little as he shrugged again. "You know… because she has this whole stray animal vibe and you…"
"Let me guess… I'm just human, is that it?" she completed his sentence with a bored expression.
"Look, no offence, but even I can't completely take away some parts of you without actually corrupting your soul," he explained. "And some of that might include… some empathy? Not saying that you're weak or anything, but it might blind you to some things."
She was dumbfounded, stunned to speechlessness, which Lucifer could easily assume to be agreement. "But what about trust?" she boldly asserted, looking him straight in the eyes. "I've trusted you. It's your turn." The demons seemed to shift uncomfortably at that as they ultimately awaited their boss' verdict. Years of not having to speak more than a few sentences to get what he wanted chipped away at Lucifer's patience. That much was obvious to Zara in how his eyebrow twitched. Her time was short and she knew it. "I'm not asking for much. Just… give it another shot." His eyes rolled to the side. Switch strategy. "I'm doing this for us. I'm doing this for you. I really think we're onto something here, Lucifer. And I want to give it the best I got-"
"Okay," he finally relented. "Dear Dad, you never stop, do you? Fine! Do what you want." He threw up a hand dismissively while his other hand rested on his hip. "But you're still taking a break. Take 'er away, boys."
Esther was roughly hauled to her feet and dragged away as Zara watched, half-afraid to heave a sigh of relief. She thought it would be over then – that they'd all move on with their lives. But Lucifer was still standing before her. She thought he might say something but he just stayed there, wordlessly, pupils boring into her like sharp teeth into flesh. Her heart trembled.
"Next time you wanna pull something like that, you do it in private," he uttered coldly.
"You and I both know she would've been dead by then," Zara rebutted as sincerely as she could.
There was that narrowing of eyes again. "So?" he asked. "There are plenty of witches in the sea."
"And how many of them designed a cage that could hold an archangel?" she challenged in turn. As soon as she spoke that sentence, she gulped despite herself. Speaking to Lucifer could be tricky business sometimes.
Zara heard a soft exhale from him as his shoulders eased and he stepped back a little. "You're being such a Sophia right now," he grumbled. Admittedly, that made Zara's lips curve ever so slightly. He didn't concede the emotion for too long, though. "You can have your way this time. But you better not be getting soft," he advised with a firm finger pointed at her. "Or I'll make you bury the past again."
Shady Mill, Missouri – 23 September 2012, 2.12pm
The icy green eyes seemed to pierce her where she lay. "You?" Zara muttered, just as she began to taste blood.
"Yes, me," the distinctly female voice said. Her dark, shapely eyebrows creased crisply to regard Zara with the same annoyance one would have towards a housefly.
"You don't have to do this," Zara said, weakly attempting to get up. "Esther."
"Oh, but I do," Esther hissed. She sauntered towards Zara. Her hands lit up with a purple glow about them with an intensity matching the visible anger on her face. "It's only right."
"I told you you'd pay," Crowley snidely chimed in from her peripheral.
"You've a lot to answer for yourself," Zara spat out through heavy breaths. She'd finally hauled herself to her feet when suddenly, a gust of wind pinned her flat against the wall. When her vision came to adjust to her new position, she'd found Esther's hands with the appropriate gestures that had essentially made her as vulnerable as a human dartboard. Now Esther and Crowley had found themselves at each other's sides as they shared a look that meant that they had some colourful ideas about what should happen next.
"What shall we do with her, darling?" Crowley suavely dug his hands into his pockets, creatively eyeing his prey. "Get her a tank of sharks? Some scorpions maybe? Oh, I know, we'll nail her to an inverted cross and play Pin The Tail."
"Get her ready for the delivery," Esther monotonously suggested. She had the fierce eyes of a dragon, ready to shoot flames with every strong breath from her rage-fuelled lungs. The way she stood – with her back straight like a porcelain hourglass doll wrapped in a glittery purple dress that reached her ankles – there was no doubt about her self-assurance.
Crowley, however, was caught off-guard by her response. He looked between her and Zara for a moment before stuttering, "W-we can still have a little fun, love. Nothing to spice up the sex life like a little bit of torture."
"No," Esther was quick to deny.
"A-are you sure?" he pressed.
"We need to focus on the deal," she firmly said. "Need I remind you that our friends are only getting more impatient?"
"No, but I just thought… I thought you might want this," he shrugged.
"What I want is for us to win this war, not some petty revenge. I'm not some high school cheerleader," she spat out bitterly. "Our efforts could be spent better than that. Get the truck ready."
Crowley's lips pursed. "If you say so, darling. Don't be too long," he conceded before vanishing. As much as Zara tried to pull her limbs away from the wall, the magical barrier was too strong. Her chest sunk again to lose sight of the archangel blade. Now it was just her and the witch.
Meanwhile, Dean found himself nearing a railing on a floor that overlooked the large delivery area, which was currently a battlefield. He rushed to identify the area from the security camera, locating it near a smaller entrance further away from the main one. Lucky for him, there was a stairwell that led him discreetly to the back of a container, next to which the truck stood. Grunts and screams peppered the air as he crept up to the back. The two blindfolded people who were hung by their bound wrists inside were unconscious. At least, that's what Dean assumed, seeing as they were unperturbed by the cacophony of noises around them.
Boom. A large explosion sounded in the distance. Dean jerked to see the source. Some demons had blown something up somewhere to get at the opposite side. So long as it was far away from him, he didn't really care.
"Hey, wake up," Dean lightly tapped the man's cheek. No response. He pulled the blindfold off. The man's eyes were closed. He checked under the eyelids. The man seemed sound asleep. Perhaps he was sedated, he thought. He did the same investigation for the woman. The conclusion was the same for her. He pulled her off the meat hook and laid her gently on the floor of the truck. "Shit."
Looking at the both of them, he wasn't sure what to do. They couldn't walk and he certainly couldn't carry the two of them. Carrying them one at a time was an option, but getting them to the back of the building? That was too much of a risk. Struck by a dilemma, he exited the back of the truck and went to the front. That's when it hit him. The exit was wide open. The demons were all busy. No one was manning the wheel. Standing with a foot poised to haul himself into the driver's seat, Dean couldn't help but chance a look back at the battle scene. Somehow, it had all gotten messier than before. Reinforcements? When did that happen? he thought.
Among the chaos, a single pair of black eyes met his. Dean's heart skipped a beat. His muscles froze, unable to contemplate a reality where his chances of saving the two hostages and surviving were sufficient. Yet it happened to be so. The smartly-attired demon put a hand to a Bluetooth earpiece and spoke into it. Seconds later he was back to finding a target and duelling him to death. Dean couldn't believe it. As if that wasn't enough, a particularly vibrant flash of red caught his eye in the distance. His breath was caught in his throat. "Abaddon?" he recognised with bated breath. How is that possible?
Before he could fully process what he'd just seen, she too put her fingers to what could only be assumed to be another Bluetooth earpiece and talked into it. The brief conversation ended and she marched up a staircase with relative ease and disappeared into a hallway that led further into the building. Need to tell the others. But first things first – there were two people who needed to be brought to safety. Dean rushed to the back to close the backdoor of the truck. His hand had barely touched the still-open door when he suddenly felt himself being flung backwards.
Thud. He landed a few feet from the back of the truck with the breath knocked out of him. "Trying to steal my bounty again, Dean? I must say, that's just rude," Crowley sauntered into view, standing between Dean and the truck. And in his hand, he held the archangel blade, tapping the grind against his other palm. Thoughts of Zara raced through Dean's mind. If she hadn't attained the blade from him…
"Get… get away from them," Dean panted as he got up.
"Or…? Or what? You'll kill me? Book an appointment for another day. I'm busy," the former King of Hell quipped. He made haste in closing the back doors of the truck and getting to the front.
Upstairs – Some ten minutes earlier
"Agh." Zara landed with a grunt. Blood dripped from her mouth, leaving a strong iron taste. Through blurry eyes, she saw the purple figure approach her. With another swing of the arms, Esther hurled her against another wall. This time, Zara's head throbbed harder than ever, feeling like a pulsating alarm. Struggling to keep her eyes open though she was, she paid attention just in time to defensively cross her forearms in front of her head and torso. Energy burst from her core to create a magical shield. And in turn, Esther's attack pummelled her albeit sparingly inflicting damage. When an opening presented itself, Zara wasted no time in launching a counter-attack of her own. Propelling her palm forward, she fired the strongest spurt of archangel magic that she could summon in her state of pain.
Esther fell back ceremoniously. Zara grabbed the angel blade she'd dropped before and staggered towards the witch. With that steel look in her eyes and unwavering grip on the blade, only one outcome seemed obvious. Not to mention the fact that somehow, one of the suit-and-tie demons managed to find her in this relatively isolated upper floor. He'd caught her with one of her sharp killer glares when he arrived on scene, with Esther cowering away from her on the ground.
"Zara," the demon greeted. A snake-like smile stretched his lips. "It's good to see you again."
"What are you doing here?" she asked tonelessly. In the single moment that she took her eyes off Esther, the witch raised a palm. Instinctively, the demon twitched to telekinetically squeeze her trachea. Esther gasped, back arching and hands scratching against her neck to protest the assault.
"Helping you, it seems," he answered casually, stepping to stand next to her. They both simply stared at the witch's twitching form for a second. "Abaddon's downstairs. She sent me to get you."
"What part of 'I'm undercover' don't you people understand? It means no contact. Zilch. Nada. We're supposed to be sworn enemies," Zara stiffly grumbled.
"M'lady, you'll excuse the demon-folk for getting too attached to you. They haven't been this excited to welcome a human into their ranks since Cain. And your plan to use the Winchesters like the mindless vermin they are has spread nothing but joy," he reasoned.
"Well, you're only jeopardising the plan by coming anywhere near me. I didn't relay this location to you people just so that the boys could find out about it," Zara frowned. "So if you'll kindly convey my message to Abaddon, I have a situation to tend to."
They both stood in silence again. Esther was thrashing about less, but her mouth was still agape in a struggle for breath. Zara and the demon both tilted their head in unison. "They really don't die easy, do they?" the demon pondered. "You'll leave this to me. Abaddon wants to see you now and it is non-negotiable." Before Zara could protest, he continued, "If you disobey her, Lucifer will hear about it. You might be his favourite, but you are still answerable to him like the rest of us. I'd advise you to think carefully."
Zara let out a slow, long exhale through her nostrils. It was times like these that really grinded her gears. There was too much going on and too much to deal with. Right now, however, it was those round, green irises that seized her thoughts. Normally, it wouldn't mean anything. It was an easy decision to make. But there was a lot weighing on her. Among those being the constant fight between the thought of Jack and the memories of Hell. That snapped her back to the present. Zara's weight shifted in lightning speed and she twisted her torso to plunge the angel blade straight into the demon's chest.
The light of death burnt under his skin. His last moments were spent with a visible shock painted on his face. With a groan of agony, he fell to the ground, dead. Esther coughed, immediately rolling onto her stomach from sheer relief. Zara knelt down to Esther's level.
"This doesn't change anything," Esther hissed as she grabbed Zara by the throat with one hand and knocked the angel blade away with the other.
"I don't expect it to," Zara said before the crushing pressure got to her. Their eye contact was diamond-solid for a good moment. A few thoughtful breaths passed. Esther let go, eyes melting with a break in her coldness.
"Make it look like you got past me," Esther muttered. Again, they stared at each other in silence. The air between them was ambiguous at best, undecided between the warm bonds of history and the scalding divisions of enmity. Zara finally decided to clock her in the right cheek. Then again at the temple. And again with a knee to the gut. The witch took it all wordlessly and succumbed to gravity.
"If you'd stayed, we could've been friends," Zara lamented, fighting hypothetical tears before they turned real. "You'd have become something greater."
"The more you talk, the more idiotic you sound," Esther spat out through a bloody lip.
"You're the one who's back with Crowley," Zara retorted. "The man who left you to suffer to save his own ass. You could do so much better."
"You're one to talk, Zara," Esther narrowed her eyes.
"Lucifer made me into something I never thought I'd become. He made me strong. What did Crowley do but drain the life out of you?" she acrimoniously put forth. "We could have taken Crowley together. But you're too busy sucking him off."
Esther huffed, somehow managing to smile through a bloody lip. "Don't you see? We're both the same. Deep inside, you know it's true." Just then, a loud explosion sounded. "You better get going. Or else I'm gonna have to fight back."
Zara paused for a moment longer because storming off past the witch. The fighting grew louder as she made her way to the lower floors. A couple of Crowley's men blocked her path. With no hesitation at all, she sprinted towards them. When the opportune moment came, she leapt onto the wall and launched herself off to grapple onto the back of a demon. Caught by surprise, the demon yelled a curse while she buried the angel blade into his neck. His friend immediately caught wind of that and charged towards her.
He firmly gripped her forearm, which was now poised in the air in a struggle to plunge the blade into him. The crooked smile on his face didn't last long before Zara kneed him in the gut. She did it again without a moment's rest to build up more momentum and force. That annoyed the demon for sure. He pulled back a fist, aimed at her cheek. That was the opening she needed. She ducked under his swinging arm and used her free hand to pull out a smaller knife from her back and bury it in his abdomen. The demon winced and let go of her other hand. The knife, borrowed from Lucifer, was effective on demons but not enough to kill one. It was more of a plaything among demons, really – for when they got bored and used each other as chopping boards. Of course, it was more for Lucifer's amusement. In no time, Zara used the demon's shock to cleanly slice his head off.
She was a blood-fuelled machine when she arrived at the control centre of the building – an office room with glass windows that overlooked the battle below. Abaddon was rummaging through some papers when she arrived. "There she is," Abaddon sighed, not bothering to look up. "The prodigy of Hell. Where's the other guy?"
"Busy with a witch," she half-lied. "We can't be seen talking. So make it quick," Zara folded her arms.
"Hm," Abaddon paid no heed to her. She remained silent, continuing to search through impossibly wordy documents for something particularly interesting. The longer she remained this way, the more Zara fidgeted with the sleeve of her jacket.
"Abaddon," she called out once.
"Your boy, Dean's downstairs, by the way," the Knight said out of the blue.
"What?" Zara unfolded her arms as soon as she heard his name. "What's he doing there?"
"That's one fine young man, Zee. You'd better get me a piece of that," she continued like Zara's words didn't reach her.
"You realise that puts him in danger? There's like a hundred demons down there," Zara put a palm to her forehead, eyes wide with fear of what could happen.
"Look at you getting all sweet over a Winchester," Abaddon mumbled monotonously.
"If something happens to Dean, Sam won't rest until he finds out what's going on and we can't afford that. We can't use the Winchesters if they're onto us," she argued passionately. "We need them to stay out of the loop."
"And for what, exactly? What is your plan?" Abaddon placed her palms flat on the table as her eyes bore into Zara. "You're wasting so much time with them. Are you gonna be a hunter? Take down more of our own and tell us it's for the King's sake?"
Zara narrowed her eyes at the demon. "I have nothing to prove to you, Abaddon. Lucifer chose me. The King himself. I've earned his trust and as long as he knows that I'm loyal to him, I have nothing to say to the likes of you," she spat out in a caustic tirade. "You may not like it, but the Winchesters are the only ones who can get us what we want. They have the prophet and the angel tablet. Oh, and also, they're sitting on a freakin' treasure trove of resources on the supernatural! You know, the place that you tried to find and failed? So yeah, I'm going all in on this."
"Then we have to take it," Abaddon leaned forward, lips tightening menacingly as she made her point. "Weaken the bunker's warding and send us the signal. We'll come marching in and take everything."
"It isn't time yet," Zara retorted, heart beating faster and faster. "There's still so much they can help us with. Which means we need them alive."
The sheer exasperation in Zara's eyes was starkly unmatched by the lack of emotion on Abaddon's face. She was about to take off in a hurry when Abaddon spoke again. "I told the boys to stand down. The rat will live."
Zara released the deepest sigh of relief. "Then why'd you call me here?" she asked, calmer.
"Oh I just happened to notice something while I was here. We finally have Crowley in our sights so the boys can't wait to sing praises in your name. But the funny thing is, he's holding a blade that looks an awful lot like yours," Abaddon's eyebrows crossed.
"A slight mishap. I can fix it," Zara vowed.
"A slight mishap? You realise that thing can kill the boss?!" Every word grew louder than the last. "He trusted you with it!"
"I can handle it!" Zara defended. "Why don't you just leave it to me, huh? You guys focus on finding out who Crowley's sending packages to. My money's on the guy with the many heads."
"This better be worth it, Zee," Abaddon glared at her. "If you fall, we all fall."
Zara nodded. There was no argument there. "What should I do about the Helmet?" she asked.
"Nothing. Hades wants to come and take it himself," Abaddon casually stated.
"What? He can't do that. That's a stupid id-"
"We know. We've already told him that," Abaddon rolled her eyes. "But you know how he is. 'The fire must find its own spark', 'I find helmet myself'," she imitated Hades with a mockingly low voice. "But don't worry about him. We'll take care of it."
"You're sure? Because if that giant is coming, I need a heads-up. He's like a freakin' bull in a china shop. Subtlety isn't exactly in his dictionary," Zara grumbled.
"Yeah," Abaddon zoned out for a moment in contemplation. "A big guy with big words and big actions."
She sighed despondently. "You're thinking about big things a lot, huh?" Zara noticed, with a cautious sense of awkwardness.
"Yeah," Abaddon sighed again. That was too many sighs in one conversation. "I won't tell the boss if you don't."
"Tell him what?" Zara puzzled. For a moment too long, they held an uncanny silence between them. Zara's eyebrows twitched, as if poised to venture a risqué question, but Abaddon remained stoic.
"Exactly. Good talk," Abaddon went back to rummaging the documents.
"D-did we- did we just do girl talk?" Zara rubbed the back of her neck nervously.
"Don't count on it happening again," Abaddon winked. "Now go. Go and save your little boyfriend."
"Actually," Zara raised a finger to correct her, and then stopped herself. "Never mind. Forget it."
When she reached the container area, she stopped in her tracks at the sight of the wretched demon. Crowley. He stood over Dean with her blade. Determined, she signalled to some of Lucifer's demons. They nodded in understanding. With that, she moved over to take cover behind a container. Crowley shut the doors of the truck and rushed to the front.
"Not so fast," Zara sprinted towards him at an almost inhuman pace. She hurled her angel blade at him. It sliced through the air and shattered the glass of the driver's seat door, not before cutting Crowley in the upper arm. He winced sharply and scowled at her. Zara jutted her palm out to feel the magical thread. It was strong and waited her very grip. She focused, envisioning herself grabbing onto it. Just like that, the archangel blade shifted in Crowley's hand. He felt it strongly tugging against his hold on it, willing itself to fly out of his possession. Crowley had no choice but to use both hands to secure it while the blade struggled with him like a child unwilling to be taken away. Zara only intensified her pull. The blade's grip slipped out of his palm like butter and flew into her embrace. She felt whole again.
Just then, the demons took notice of the scene. Someone yelled a command and the demons seemed to be rapidly approaching. Zara saw Dean sprawled on the ground in between the demons and Crowley. As they charged towards Crowley, he hopped into the driver's seat and drove away.
"Don't let him get away!" a demon yelled. They all soon got into cars and drove after him.
It was practically a stampede. Dean lay on the ground, still as a statue, as the demons rushed past him. In the chaos, Zara ran over to him. "No. No!" he yelled as he got up to go after the truck.
"Dean, stop," Zara grabbed his arm and yanked him away.
"We can't let him get away with those hostages," he worried.
"Well we can't do anything about it. This is our only chance to get out of here," she argued in hushed tones as she got him away from the horde of demons. "They're all too distracted with him to care about us."
Dean couldn't take his eyes off the scene as he passively let Zara pull him away. It all seemed too uncanny to him. A building full of demons. They should be running towards him with guns and raining bullets on him. Then he noticed Zara. "I'd ask what happened to your face, but I think I already know the answer," he said.
"Some days you're a Kill Bill, some days you're not. I can't be perfect," she answered.
"Yeah, I hear ya," he empathised. But he still seemed lost in thought.
"Dean, the odds were against us," she stated. Through the battered state of her body and silence of the aftermath, her voice sounded a little huskier than usual. But mostly reassuring to his ears. "There wasn't much we could've done to begin with. What were you thinking, rushing in like that?"
"Crowley could be driving those people to their graves right now," he mumbled despondently. Then he just passively shook his head and looked to the heavens momentarily. "But you're right. The fact that we're both still in one piece… it just blows my mind."
Sam was impatiently tapping his feet near the back entrance. His hand was dug in his pocket, feeling the thumb drive for a sense of security. He checked his watch. It had been 25 minutes. Anytime now. His movements were undecided between waiting a little while more and barging in to find out what the hell was going on. Just because they're both taking a little longer than they said they would, doesn't mean that they're in trouble, right? "Goddammit," he cursed under his breath and reached a hand to the door. Just then, the knob twisted and the door swung back open.
Hell – 6 months ago
The table was littered with an array of food items that Zara had asked for – a steaming serving of lasagne on one plate, some few types of cakes scattered about as splotches of colour on an otherwise cream-coloured tablecloth and a bowl of fruits. Zara offered a plate to Esther. The witch looked away. "You're gonna need your strength if you're gonna teach me something more useful," Zara told her. She then piled some food on it and placed it before Esther on the table. "Eat."
Esther was almost afraid to accept the gesture.
"You do as she asks," Dan growled, raising a hand to backhand her. Esther cowered just as Zara stepped between them.
"Okay, thank you, Dan," her voice cut the air sharply. "I'll call if I need any more of your assistance."
Her folded arms and glaring eyes ordered him to leave so he did. As soon as the demon left, it was like a brace had been released from their shoulders. Esther's hand slid wearily across the table to grab a grape. Zara poured her a glass of water too. "None of this makes you a good person," Esther finally said, her voice thin and tired.
"I'm not here to be a good person," Zara answered, matching her volume. "I do as Lucifer says."
"Why…?" Esther dared ask. She carefully judged Zara's response to her. Zara's eyes wandered over the table in contemplation. "Why do you do it? You know he only wants you for what you can do for him, right?"
"This… this is where I belong," Zara said after a pause. Then, as if waking up from a trance, she straightened up and spoke more firmly. "This is my destiny. Lucifer cared for me when the world threw me away. I am in his debt and I couldn't be happier to serve him."
"Right…" Doubt creased Esther's eyebrows. "Which is why you're risking angering him for this."
"I'm not taking any risks. I told them I was hungry. But you know what these demons are like. Always an excess of everything. I just can't finish all of this by myself," Zara crossed her arms. "Now eat up before our session is over and they drag you back to the dungeon."
"You try so hard to be something you're not," Esther continued. To that, Zara simply smirked and leaned back into her seat.
"You don't know anything about what I am," her eyes lit up with a malice Esther had never seen on her face before. "But enough about me. From what I hear, you used to stay in this room. Sophia's room. You were kind of a big deal here before Lucifer got back, huh?"
Esther's lips pursed. She said nothing.
"They tell me that Crowley brought you here. From like, Russia or something," Zara rotated her wrist to turn her palm upwards – a gesture that substituted for a question mark. "You… were part of some vampire mafia clan? Which is weird, because you're not a vamp. Unless you're hiding fangs in there."
A measured exhale made it through Esther's lips, but nothing more.
"You don't wanna talk about it, fine. But way I hear it, they didn't treat you too well," Zara mentioned. Esther huffed in a mirthless smirk.
"You think all this fancy food is gonna win me over? That I'm suddenly gonna open up and talk about my feelings and we're gonna be best friends? What's next? We gonna paint each other's nails? Please," she retorted with increasing sourness. "Your boss wants one thing from me and when he gets it, he's gonna kill me. So let's speed it up because I can't wait to be free of you. You think you have a say. Like the King cares about your opinion. But sorry to break it to you, sweetheart. Men always act like they care when they want something. Then, when shit hits the fan, they just chuck you to the side like trash!"
Zara almost recoiled in her seat. Admittedly, her sudden outburst was both surprising and amusing. It was fresh compared to the dearth of emotion she always saw in the demons. "Okay…" her eyebrows jumped at that. "I don't know who hurt you- wait, I think I do know. But that's not the point. News came in a while ago that those same vamps who had you are part of some of Crowley's most recent set of sales. But I guess you're not interested in a little revenge."
She picked up one of the old compendiums and began to look for the page she stopped at. "Wait," Esther blinked rapidly, unsure of where she was going with this. "Tell me more."
Lips curving up one side, Zara set the book back down. "Lucifer wants to assign me the case. Which means I get to stir shit up in the nest. If you can give me any information at all, that would be… nice. These people are elusive, I've found."
The witch twiddled her thumbs, lost in thought.
"If you're so set on dying here, what do you have to lose? Not like you care about these people anyw-"
"It was Ukraine, not Russia," she finally spoke. "Th-they're mostly Russian, but they have a base in Odessa."
That was a start. Zara nodded. "They tell me that Crowley killed the old leader. Igor… something," she said. "The one who hurt you."
"Igor Kavinsky," Esther sounded bitter when she said his name. "Betrayed by his own brother for a demon deal. Because he was just that scummy."
"So his brother is close with Crowley?" Zara probed.
"He wanted to replace the whole administration with his demons. But it was impossible," Esther's voice grew shaky as she elaborated. "The Solntsevskaya have something the other Vory don't. They're bonded by blood. They wouldn't give up their own family's control to outside forces. So instead, Viktor shook hands with Crowley and that was the end of it. Nothing really changed but at least Igor is dead."
"You say that they're bonded by blood… so what were you doing there?" Zara leaned forward in her chair. The witch gulped and looked over to a far wall.
"Igor was… my great-great-grandfather. As in, my biological great-great-grandfather," Esther explained. "I ran away before he could turn me and joined a coven. But by the time he found me again, he'd built an empire with these people he turned into vampires and called them family."
"Sounds… complicated," Zara remarked. "Tell me about the base in Odessa."
"Hm." Esther hesitated again. "You wanted information and I gave it to you. But if you think I'm gonna just sit here and rat on my family…"
Her eyes flared up in anger but her quivering lips told another story. "If you cared so much about family, why'd you leave them to come work for Crowley, huh?" Zara argued back. "You wanted out, didn't you? You wanted something better, and then Crowley came along and swept you off your feet." Something about the way she talked stirred something in Esther. Something she'd been grappling with for a while now. Confusion. Inner conflict. Up was down and black was white. "If anyone understands what it's like to run away from family for better things, it's me," Zara recounted with a confidence she used to be afraid to have. "I hated my folks and nothing felt better than to be free of them. I get it. You could have it all again, you know. The high life," she vaguely gestured towards her surroundings. "Basic human respect, among other things. If you help me, Lucifer would appreciate it. I could put in a good word with him. You wouldn't have to be a prisoner anymore."
As much as she protested it, something lit up inside Esther again. It was just a small glimmer and it's very existence took her by surprise. But sometimes the shadows win. "Is that what you really think would happen? Then you're as naïve as the demons say," Esther narrowed her eyes.
"They say that about me?" Zara tilted her head.
"They think it's cute," Esther cringed a little. "But here's a reality check for ya. The moment they think you step outta line, it's over for you. All this praise, all this respect – it'll go poof."
"You have it wrong," Zara rebutted. "Lucifer wouldn't hurt me. He needs me. Vessel of the queen, remember?" Before Esther could rub in her cynicism, she continued immediately, "Just… leave it to me, kay? Now talk. Help me so that Lucifer-"
"I'm not doing this for him," Esther scowled. "I'll do it so you can see how much of a fool you are."
"That's good enough for me," Zara flashed her a smile and a playful raise of the eyebrow. Her whole demeanour surrounding the situation was nothing short of anxiety-inducing, but that was as close to human as Esther got to see from anyone. It certainly made their lessons together easier.
Several weeks (in Hell time) later,
"You… wanna go solo in Odessa?" Lucifer's eyebrows pinched in doubt. "Most people crawl before they walk, you know. Except me. I was a superstar as a baby. Went straight to flapping my wings and sprinting," he broke into a smug grin, chin lifted as he reminisced. "True story, ask Sophie."
"How could she possibly know? She wasn't there when you were created," Zara questioned with a matching levity. When Lucifer suspected her with a head tilt, she stammered, "Or… so I must assume…"
"She told you the whole story, huh?" he guessed monotonously. "What are you, her diary?"
"Maybe I'm just such a good listener," Zara shrugged. "But no. All I saw was images swirling around my head. I don't think I could remember 14 billion years of history. I couldn't even remember the difference between an allegory and an analogy in high school."
"Well, it's a good thing that you don't need literary skills to stab people. How's your Ukrainian?" Lucifer quipped.
"Rusty. And by rusty, I mean I didn't know they spoke something other than Russian in Ukraine until now," Zara quipped. "I don't think I'll be doing much talking. There's a small-time gambling den where the Vory actually house their victims before bringing them home for a nice big family dinner. That's our in."
"Hm," Lucifer zoned into a spot on the table, pensive. "And how did you stumble upon this little nugget?"
"Oh, uh," she stuttered. "The…Internet. I just searched really long and hard."
She maintained eye contact and nodded continuously, like it would boost her credibility. "The Internet. So you can find anything on it? How does it work?" he asked in turn.
"I… I don't know! You don't need to know how it works. You just- you just use it," she shrugged in response to his positively befuddled expression.
"One day you're gonna have to explain it to me," he ordered.
"Alright, Grandpa," Zara's smile was a thin, playful curve. "So, Odessa."
"You can go," Lucifer conceded.
Much, much later…
"What in Dad's name!" Lucifer exclaimed. He stood over Zara's bed, a hand poised at the back of his head. He could barely form the words over how absolutely stunned he was to see her in that moment. All he could see were the patches of dried blood on her skin and the bruises on her face. "What the hell happened?!"
"A slight mishap," Abaddon chimed in from next to him. Even she had the sense to be nervous, voice wavering if only so slightly from her own memory of what happened. But even more consequential was how she would have to tell her boss what happened without being exploded by him in a fit of rage. "The mission is actually a success," she first stated, making sure to emphasise the positivity with an appropriate tone. "But somewhere along the way, we had no choice but to engage the vamps."
"And you? What do you have to say for yourself?" Lucifer pointedly asked Zara.
Her back was propped up by a pillow. Some fractures and cuts were evident underneath the dried blood caking her skin. Yet the young woman stared dead ahead with an unshakeable grit. "I got what we needed, didn't I?"
Abaddon silently cursed. All this attitude wasn't going to ease Lucifer's anger. "Yeah? But at what cost?" Lucifer derided. "Now you're a target and they know we're involved because you just needed to be a Knight's damsel-in-distress. That's what I get for trusting you!"
"Lucifer," Zara's eyes snapped to him. "It's not as bad as you say." Her relatively unperturbed demeanour seemed to be contagious. The King found himself actually listening. "We can turn this situation around. Some of their leaders are dead. They're in a state of panic."
"And why's that?" he impatiently tapped his foot against the ground. "Why don't you help me understand this, Zara. I don't recall ever giving you the order to assassinate the guys that run the Russian mafia."
Zara's chin tightened in defiance. Abaddon quickly intervened before the tensions could boil over. "Sir… it was self-defence. They would have caught her if she hadn't decided to fight back."
"Oh really? So enlighten me, Abaddon, as to why Koy and Ilik Romanovich were the ones to find her and not any of the thousands of security guys they have? Why, oh why, was she ever in direct contact with those guys?" Lucifer's caustic outrage seemed to burn the very air around them. "Why weren't you doing your job and keeping her from doing something stupid?!"
Abaddon flinched.
"It was me," Zara's gentle voice was refreshing in comparison. "I… waited too long to call for backup. I thought I had it handled. But you know how it's like out in the field. Random things happen," she shrugged, though a sharp sting emerged from her right shoulder.
"It wasn't your call to make to take those guys' heads off," he stood imposingly over her. His voice may have been softer, but his anger still radiated through every word.
"I know, and I'm sorry," she nonchalantly said. "It's my first mission. Could you find it in yourself to forgive me? As far as mistakes go, this could actually be a good one. They're weak now. They'll be willing to latch onto any form of security you offer them."
As much as Lucifer wanted to squeeze her broken forearm, he simply seethed and held a tense silence. "Next time, you'll do exactly as I say. No mishaps."
"I promise," Zara monotonously droned. After all that running around and getting beat up, a long nap was due.
"Abaddon, get a healer to look at her," he ordered. That grabbed Zara's attention again.
"A healer? But that's gonna take days to work," Zara challenged.
"Great, you'll have plenty of time to reflect on how you can stop being a bumbling dumbass," he quipped with a crisp snark. "Until then, it's only bedrest and book-reading for you."
"Oh come on," she grumbled. After Lucifer left, Abaddon remained, standing hard as a statue. Her earlier nervousness vanished which left only a deep-set frown in its place.
"I covered your ass this one time. But you're not fooling me," she hissed. "I know you chose to kill those guys." Zara said nothing. Didn't even make eye contact. Abaddon leaned closer to her. "I don't know why, but you went out of your way to do it. But let me tell you something. Maybe Lucifer can forgive you. Excuse it as an amateur's mistake. But I see through you. You won't be able to make convenient 'mistakes' forever."
"I'm sorry I fucked up, Abaddon," Zara simply said, her voice even subtly introducing remorse. "I'm sorry to let you and Lucifer down. I hope that I can be as great as the both of you one day."
Abaddon backed off a bit. "You can drop the act. He's not here," she said.
"You're an inspiration to me, you know. You're everything I wanna be," Zara sniffled a little.
"You sicken me," Abaddon spat out. "I don't buy it for a second."
"I think of you every time I spill blood," she continued. "I think of it as an offering to you."
"Okay, this conversation is over," Abaddon stormed out of her room. "One day I'll get you!"
The following days were slow and boring, but Zara had healed just enough that she could move around by herself. The bruises and scars still decorated her body but at least she was feeling better. In Hell time, many moons could pass and much time could be spent training her combat and magic. There was a certain relief then, to see Esther again when Lucifer finally allowed it. A stubborn will within Zara had persisted this whole time and like a fire sprung from ashes, reignited at the sight of the witch. She just had this one-sided smile and a psychotic glint in her eye as she sat at the table. Esther, on the other hand, was intrigued and uncertain.
"What happened to your face?" the witch couldn't help but ask.
Zara smirked, taking her own time to relish the witch's curiosity. "Koy, Ilik and Oleg are dead. Couldn't get to the others on time, though," she proudly proclaimed. "Told you I could do it, didn't I?"
"You did it? You actually did it?" Esther was still in shock. She released a sharp breath.
"You weren't kidding when you said the place would be swarming with vamps. It's like a beehive," Zara recalled.
"You're hurt," Esther noticed.
"Yeah, and Oleg really doesn't have a problem with hitting women. Boss wasn't too happy about the mission. Or the fact that those guys are dead. But it's okay. He'll come 'round," Zara dismissed with a wave of the hand. "Just gotta wait for him to cool off, which in his case is literal. Then I can ease him into a sweet deal for you."
None of that seemed to elicit the response that Zara expected. Instead, Esther just gulped and rubbed her own forearm shakily. "You're playing with powers you don't understand, Zara," she said.
"I thought you might be a little happier to hear about it," Zara narrowed her eyes. "We finally got the guys who hurt you."
"But you disobeyed Lucifer," she pointed out.
"It's no big deal. He won't hurt me. Not really. He needs me. And what can he do now anyway? When all's said and done, he can only sway with the tide," Zara shrugged.
"You think you got it all covered. That just because he likes you he'll be okay with anything you do. But you're just wrong. It amazes me, you know. How quickly you forget that you're dealing with the Devil. The root of all evil," Esther warned.
"Okay, that's a little one-dimensional. Why don't you think of it this way? If there's anyone who can make him open to new ideas, it's me. He trusts me. And I deliver," Zara held her ground. "Now let's think about how we can get you a new room, huh? Maybe you can share mine."
"Zara… I don't think that's gonna happen," Esther's voice grew more resolute. "Let's just focus on the lesson, alright?"
As much as Zara wanted to push the conversation forward, she wanted to get her own questions answered. Especially with the manuscript she'd obtained from the incident at the casino, she could finally have the key that would defuse Lucifer's vessel. Something about Esther seemed off. She was a little more fidgety than usual, tapping her fingers against the table at times. Her eyes often darted to the door and she kept rubbing her wrists and forearms. She seemed to rush through the lesson, penning down notes but not explaining them.
"You'll get it eventually," Esther stated. "We've been at this for so long now. You're smart enough to put it together."
"Why do you say it like that?" Zara puzzled.
"Uh… no reason," she shook her head. Their eyes met again. Zara always liked how bright the green of her irises were. That brief moment seemed to indulge her as Esther's pupils constricted, revealing more of her glassy eyes. A sudden 'thud' pierced the air. Esther flinched. Zara looked to the door. There didn't appear to be any movement. And then another sound erupted, like a large, heavy person impacting the ground.
"What was that?" Zara asked. Growing cautious, she grabbed an angel blade from the bedside table and inched towards the door. As she approached the threshold, a flash of black caught her eye. A quick focus revealed a familiar face in his black suit pointing a knife at her. "You? Aren't you the janitor or something?"
Roman had but a scowl on his face. He'd been waiting to do this for months. But little did he know what he was up against. He lunged at her. Zara stepped back, senses snapping into defence. Her arm swung to parry his blade and for a while all they could hear was the clanging of the blades. Zara forced herself to accelerate. It wasn't a move that could last forever for a human, but the few seconds she forced her adrenaline to perform its worth, she'd managed to knock the knife right out of his hand and knock him over. Without a moment's hesitation, she kicked the knife out the door and blocked it with her small but deadly stature.
"Roman!" Esther rushed over to him to make sure he was okay.
Zara was one shout away from getting backup. It became apparent to her exactly how capable she was. Their lives were in her hands. "He's your… escape plan?" she muttered, a little confused. The dots connected.
"More like a suicide plan now," Esther dryly remarked. All she could do was remain where she half-knelt, too hopeless to achieve anything else. Refusing to even look Zara in the eye, she said, "Do it. Make it quick."
The tip of Zara's blade was ready. She imagined herself pouncing on Roman and driving it into his chest. She could call for backup and the guards would take Esther away. As Esther awaited her sentence, a nasty scar peeked out from the neck of her dress. Zara had no way of knowing what exactly Esther went through, but that length of healing skin caught her attention for some reason. Images flashed in her head. Memories of her mom beating her surfaced but she was numb to that. Memories of Sam in the basement too – and damn, that was a horrible ordeal in itself. Again, she didn't feel anything. Then she remembered the red light. The experiments. The blood.
Zara dropped the blade. Esther looked up. "Make it look like you got past me," she mumbled, eyes dead.
"What?" The witch's dark, shapely brows curved down dramatically.
"I said, make it look like you got past me," she said more firmly this time. Her eyes flickered to the angel blade, suggesting a course of action. Roman's movements were hesitant – he sat up first, then leaned on an arm and then pushed on a leg to get up. At each point, he stuttered as if anticipating her to fight him. But she didn't.
He even got to the angel blade. Though confused at first, Roman didn't hesitate to grab her by the throat and shove her to the ground. He got up on top of her and punched her a few times, even slicing her skin, before raising the blade over her chest. Zara's eyes widened, fixating on the shiny tip. "That's enough," Esther held his elbow back.
"But m'lady, killing her would be good for our cause," he said. The desire to see her blood only invigorated him. He was already halfway teased by the sight of blood pouring from her broken nose and jaw.
"Not today, Roman," Esther ordered. "Let's go."
Reluctantly, he stood up. It felt like a huge weight was taken off her chest, quite literally. If he'd been angrier, he might have even broken her ribs. Esther knelt next to Zara, who was by now in quite some pain and craving the sweet embrace of unconsciousness. But even in her passive state, looking straight into Esther's eyes through the blood on her face, she retained the same cold fierceness that Esther always saw in her. The witch stroked her cheek rather gently. "Remember what I taught you," she whispered into her ear. "Sopor dei meida."
Tendrils of a glowing purple colour spread rapidly across Zara's face. Her eyelids slowly succumbed to pressure, sealing themselves for rest. Zara lay a bloody, sleeping mess on the ground. The air was still and quiet.
"Goodbye, Zara."
