Rachel's Toy 3: Testing
Disclaimer: Animorphs belongs to Scholastic and Witchblade belongs to Top Cow. I don't own it, and I am not making any money off it.
My name is Rachel, and I am the new bearer of the Witchblade, as well as being an Animorph.
Talk about pressure to do well.
You probably know the story well enough by now, and I don't want to bore you with the details. Anyway, having the Witchblade has been giving me a headache, literally. I haven't been going psycho-gymnast like the time when I was split in two, but I have been raring up for a good fight. Sadly, the Yeerks have been quiet lately. So all I have been able to do is go to school and stew.
I got there, and went to my first class. Social studies, a big yawn.
Next class was more of the same.
After lunch came gym, and volleyball. Then I got some action, just not the kind I wanted. I was rotated up next to the net, and this girl named Jessica was right behind me. The ball had just come over the net…
I jumped to spike it, when a body collided with mine, and I fell on my side.
"Hey!" I yelled. "What did you do that for?"
"Stay out of my way, mighty Rachel," sneered Jessica. "I called that one, didn't I?" She gestured behind her, and no one said anything. Jessica was a bully, and no one else was going to back me up.
I clenched my teeth, as my own fighting instinct and the urge to use the Witchblade demanded that I destroy Jessica where she stood. I could imagine myself jumping to my feet, and tearing out her throat-
No Rachel, I thought. She's just a kid with and ego problem. That is no reason to-
-Flame her, stab her, rip out her heart and strangle her with her entrails, crush her bones, pluck her eyes out of her head -
STOP IT!
I sat and panted, as Jessica made fun of me, not knowing that she had barely escaped death.
The rest of the day blurred, as I struggled to keep from violence. Cassie knew something was wrong, but she couldn't figure out what. See, I kinda forgot to tell the gang that I had decided to accept the Witchblade. They didn't know I had it, and I knew Jake would worry, and, well, I just didn't tell them. On the way home from school, Jake called a meeting. I had a pretty good idea of what it would be about.
I flew to the barn, and met Tobias on the way there.
Hey Rachel! he called.
What's up? I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
The Witchblade is gone. Cassie thinks it was taken a couple of days ago.
Hmm. I replied. I wonder who could have known about it to take it?
I flew in to the barn, and demorphed. Everyone else was their already, and we all looked at Jake expectantly.
Jake began," Okay, I think everyone knows by now that the reason that I called the meeting is because Cassie went out to check on the Witchblade, and found that it was missing. We don't know who has it now, and frankly, I wouldn't care, as long as the Yeerks didn't have it. Erek has been researching the thing and found that once it chooses a bearer, it won't let that person go for a while. It also has a mind of its own. It will protect the girl wearing it, and if a person it does not want gets it, it will take their hand off.
"If the lady who has it is not strong willed enough to control the thing, it will turn them into homicidal maniacs."
I may get off on the rush of danger fighting the Yeerks, but it is for a good cause. I know the stakes, and for the most part, control it. I learned from my separation that I need my whole mind. I also learned how strong my sense of duty is, and I hoped that I could use that to stop the Witchblade.
I shuddered.
I and the Witchblade wrestled for control for the whole next week. If I let my temper get to me, I could feel it waiting to pounce. I needed to do something, fast. The next Sunday, I felt like tearing my hair out. Anything that could annoy me, did. I was hard pressed to keep from slapping Jordan, even after what I had done to save her. I needed help.
Then Erek showed up with some news. Visser 3 thought he had found a way to take the Witchblade.
He was planning on having someone conduct a rite that would enable him to absorb the power of the Witchblade. We had to stop him.
"After all," said Jake. "He can't take it from us, since we no longer have it, but we have got to keep him from getting it."
I groaned when no one was watching.
The next evening we sneaked into the place were the rite had to take place. It was a wide open field. I was freaking out.
There was Visser 3. He was surrounded by body guards.
I morphed to wolf and skulked around behind. I felt anger radiate from my weapon. It wanted to kill the one who would take it from its chosen. I did, too. Together, our anger grew.
The ritual, which I was rapidly beginning to believe, did nothing at all, mostly because it involved a lot of chanting and doing silly dances. I could tell the Witchblade felt about the same way. It itched with contempt.
The comedy before us came to a climax. The chanters' voices rose to a crescendo, then faded.
Nothing happened.
Now was the time.
I demorphed and focused on my bear-
The Witchblade struck!
It covered me with its armor, and masked my face. I lifted my arm, and tendrils rained out on the Controllers. One struck a tree, and I was dragged into the clearing. Involuntarily, my arm lifted, and fire rained on those around me. I couldn't care less. I was full of the glory of using my weapon, reveling in the destruction. This was what I was supposed t be doing with my life! Eliminating those who faced me, shredding any who stood in my way!
(No, Rachel,) a little voice screamed in my mind. (What about the hosts, those that can't run? This isn't you. You have a duty. To yourself, to your world, to the Animorphs. Listen to me, Rachel!)
No, we thought back. The Witchblade has shown us the wonders, the pleasures of death. Nothing else matters! Nothing!
(Rachel! Rachel, no! Rachel…)
The voice of my conscience faded into nothing. We were free.
We laughed.
Tobias and the others, though I hadn't noticed it, had joined me in the fight. They later told me of how shocked they were at my ferocity. No more than I.
Rachel!
This time, a strong voice, one that I couldn't silence, invaded my mind.
Rachel, you've got to get control!
Tobias!
We snarled in hate. He was trying to take me away from us. He must be stopped!
I fired at him, again and again.
Still, he pleaded, he reasoned, he kept on fighting to bring me back.
Finally, he swooped in to close. We hit him.
Down he fell, to the scorched earth.
With what strength he had left, he yelled, Rachel! I love you!
I had wondered what was stronger than my sense of duty. Well, I found it.
NOOO! My heart screamed.
I watched Tobias tumble, and I fought with everything I had. You are just like a morph to me, you stupid monster. You made me kill Tobias.
So what, I felt it say. What are all these little deaths, if we defeat you enemies?
I reached for my right wrist-
What does it profit a person-
I yanked-
To gain the whole world-
I jerked, and felt a burn, and –
If they lose their own soul?-
And the Witchblade came off.
So did most of my right arm.
Blood gushed onto the grass. I sobbed for Tobias, not feeling my own pain.
I saw the Witchblade beside me.
Amazing, it said. You found a reason greater than the desire to defeat your enemy, to fight.
I have always wanted to kill; it is part of my nature. May be I was wrong. Rachel, I will heal your arm and Tobias, if you will show me what this reason is.
With my left hand, I touched it. You will be my weapon, you stupid glove. You will obey me.
Of course, it responded. No one has ever forced me off before. You bear watching.
"So be it!" I screamed to the sky.
We became one again. I rushed over to Tobias. I scooped him up in my arms, and gathered the Witchblade's powers. I healed him.
Everyone just stared at me.
I had a lot of explaining to do. When I told them about Jordan, they understood.
"The Witchblade is a big responsibility, Rachel," said Jake. "Next time, tell somebody before you go off and do something like that! We could have helped you!"
I sighed. Now I am the bearer of one of the greatest powers on Earth, and I wasn't going to trust the Witchblade's promise of good behavior for a minute. Ho-boy, what's next?
Well, what do you think?