1.1 Chapter 4 - Roses Are Red...
Gone. They were all gone.
It was hard to think of them like that. Sure, they're been apart for years, but they had promised to all meet back at Sailoon one day. They were always there, but never...gone.
Lina had lost them before. It was years ago, when Hell master Phibrizzo, the psycho 10 year old-looking Mazoku, had decided to use the city of Sairaag as his playground. He took all her friends, killing them one by one until she was forced to use the forbidden, near-uncontrollable spell, the Giga Slave, to take him out and bring her friends back.
That had almost ended in disaster, and would have resulted in the destruction of the world, but the legendary Lord of Nightmares stepped in and took Lina away from her friends.
But Gourry took her back. Gourry, the fool he was, chased after L-sama and dared to take Lina back. He had succeeded, and brought Lina back to her friends.
And now she couldn't return him the favor.
Lina had come down for breakfast late that morning, just as a really bad storm had cleared up. She was halfway through her buttered toast and eggs when she overheard two women talking at the table behind her.
"...it's really a shame, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I wish they would find out who did it soon..."
"To think, someone murdering a girl, much less the princess of Sailoon..."
Lina had choked on her bacon then, and for one of the few times in her life, she forgot about her food. It was left lying on her plate as she rushed outside to find the nearest posting of news.
There, right outside the inn, papers posted all over the wall, papers telling of new shops opening, of lost pets, of upcoming festivals...
And there, right in the middle, a poster about the death of Princess Amelia Wil Tesla Sailoon.
It didn't say much, at least not enough for Lina. It was just an announcement, stating that the princess has been murdered, and a public funeral would be held X day at X place, and a nice drawing of the Princess. Further down the paper was a statement that the murderer was unknown and follow-up reports would be posted soon. Not near enough to satisfy Lina Inverse.
She had turned and started to go inside to get Gourry when something else caught her eye.
Once a week, an obituary would be posted. A name, and occasionally a rough sketch of the deceased would be listed, and today just happened to be the day when one was posted.
It was just a quick drawing, obviously by someone not very skilled at portraits and probably just looking to make a quick sack of coins. But it was enough for Lina to recognize a humanesque Zelgadis. If she hadn't, then the name "ZELGADIS GRAYWOODS" written next to it would have clued her in.
Lina had cared for Zelgadis, and she could tell he cared for her as well. IN the last five years, he's managed to get several letters to her, no matter where she was. They were nearly all alike, saying that he had not yet found a cure, where he would be staying by the time the letter reached her in case she found a lead and wanted to give it to him, and that he was looking forward to the group's reunion in Sailoon. Yes, Zelgadis had cared for her, and he'd obviously found his cure, and he DID make it to Sailoon for the reunion.
As if the death of one extremely close traveling companion and friend wasn't enough.
Oh yeah, it was enough for Lina. Now she was going to Gourry's room, wake him up, and leave Sailoon. They'd stay a few nights outside the white magic capital, and come back in time for the group's reunion. Amelia and Zelgadis would both be fine.
"Gourry? Are you up yet? We're leaving."
Lina's question had not received an answer. She took the silence as a 'No' and knocked loudly, calling out again.
"Gourry! Wake up! We're leaving now!"
By now Lina's short temper and patience had maxed out, and she decided to resort to something more effective than shouting through a piece of dead tree.
She kicked the door down.
Then she went inside, Lina didn't see Gourry still sleeping. She didn't see him up and getting ready. She didn't even see him on the ground, trying to get a rat to come out of a hole in the wall. She didn't see him at all.
"...GOURRY!!"
...now she saw him.
He was lying behind the bed, so that you had to come in and walk around to the other side of the room to see him.
Not that anyone would really want to see his ashen, swollen face, his open, unseeing eyes staring straight ahead, his stiff hands pressed against an open mouth where a deep crimson, nearly black foam was dripping.
And now, here she was, sitting in the corner of his room, and looking over a book she found on the table.
There was nothing on the cover of the book. There was nothing on the first page. There was nothing on the second page. In fact, there was nothing on any of the pages as Lina flipped through.
No, that wasn't right. There were words the second time she looked through the book, words that formed a poem, written on the first page:
Four little indians chopping at a tree,
One got sliced up, and then there were three.
Three little indians taking photographs of you,
One photo faded, and then there were two.
Two little indians eating and having fun,
One was poisoned, and then there was one.
One little indian reading all alone,
She went and picked a rose,
AND THEN THERE WERE NONE.
This confused Lina, as it made no sense to her. But as she continued looking through the book, more words came into focus, red lettering burning their way across the silver pages before fading into brown.
If you are reading this, Lina-san, then it would only mean that I've successfully killed off your friends. And if my timing is right, just before your reunion in Sailoon. I imagine you should be very grieved and angry at me now, and would kill me without a second thought - if you could, that is. Sigh. I know you don't consider me a friend - a hardly trustworthy ally at times, perhaps - but surely not a friend. And you understand you are the same to myself, nothing more than a tool that I use when I need, and discard when I do not.
The time thing group has been traveling together has been most entertaining. Countless laughs, satisfying meals, endless entertainment. But, sadly, you became dull. That's too bad.
Tooooooooo bad.
See, I decided to have one last bit of fun. And what other way to have one last bit of fun that to kill you all?
So in parting, I leave you another poem as a gift:
Roses are red,
A deep crimson hue,
Just like the blood,
That will drip from you.
Enjoy! ^_^
The rest of the pages were blank, and what was written had started to fade away, like the burned-out embers of a fire. Lina closed the book and stared at it, the silver glow fading into dull, cracked leather. She sat against the wall, clutched the book, not really seeing or feeling anything. He tired, unfocused eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep, mostly from exhaustion of too much emotion before breakfast.
* * * * *
Oblivion
Floating in the darkness
Seeing nothing
Hearing nothing
I open my eyes
Trying to see something
Anything
But something I never see
I reach out my hands
Trying to feel something
Anything
But something I never feel
Floating in the darkness
Floating in oblivion
Lina looked around, seeing nothing. She leaned forward and had a vague sense of movement, but in what direction she couldn't tell. Just ahead of her, a tiny pinpoint of light appeared, like a flickering star, and then died out. Something was better than nothing, so Lina leaned in that direction.
As she neared the spot where the light seemed to appear, Lina could still see nothing. She continued pressing forward, not having much sense of direction or space. She knew that if she kept going in one direction, sooner or later she had to reach something.
Up ahead, there was a single rose. It was floating, like her, in the midst of emptiness. Desperate for something real to cling to, Lina reached out and snatched at the rose. It bit her finger, and tiny droplets of blood oozed out. They didn't fall; rather, they floated out around the rose before thinning out and fading away.
As Lina transferred the rose to her other hand, she poked her bleeding finger into her mouth and sucked on it, the blood having that taste of iron and dirt, like unwashed vegetables.
When her bleeding finger stopped, Lina held the rose carefully, with two fingers between the sharp thorns. As she examined the soft, red petals, though, she felt another prick, and another, and another. Her gaze shifted down to her hand, where the thorns of the rose had grown, the stem crawling down her arm.
Lina was oblivious to the pain as the tugged and pulled at the rose with her free hand, but as she did the thorns bit deeper, halfway up her arm now. There was nothing she could do to stop it from cutting through her flesh and dripping blood, all of which hung, poised in the air, as if waiting for a signal before dissolving into the darkness.
Now it had reached her shoulder, and Lina thought for a moment that it was going straight for her neck, but it seemed that as she thought this, the stem of the rose changed its path and curled around her body. It grew three more branches, one spreading down her other arm, and one to each leg, the main stem staying at her shoulder. At the same moment, when she was completely twisted within the sharp, bloodthirsty thorns of the rose, all tightened at once, biting deep and cutting through her.
She was still alive, however, her will strong. Even as she hung, bleeding to death, she recognized the eyes that appeared in sharp focus, contrasting against the darkness blurred by the red of her own blood. Her mouth moved, for she had no breath after the thorns had cut her throat open, but the name was on her lips as the last of her life's blood drained from her.
Roses are red, just like you, when you are dead, dripping a deep crimson hue...my, I need to work on my poetry...
Gone. They were all gone.
It was hard to think of them like that. Sure, they're been apart for years, but they had promised to all meet back at Sailoon one day. They were always there, but never...gone.
Lina had lost them before. It was years ago, when Hell master Phibrizzo, the psycho 10 year old-looking Mazoku, had decided to use the city of Sairaag as his playground. He took all her friends, killing them one by one until she was forced to use the forbidden, near-uncontrollable spell, the Giga Slave, to take him out and bring her friends back.
That had almost ended in disaster, and would have resulted in the destruction of the world, but the legendary Lord of Nightmares stepped in and took Lina away from her friends.
But Gourry took her back. Gourry, the fool he was, chased after L-sama and dared to take Lina back. He had succeeded, and brought Lina back to her friends.
And now she couldn't return him the favor.
Lina had come down for breakfast late that morning, just as a really bad storm had cleared up. She was halfway through her buttered toast and eggs when she overheard two women talking at the table behind her.
"...it's really a shame, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I wish they would find out who did it soon..."
"To think, someone murdering a girl, much less the princess of Sailoon..."
Lina had choked on her bacon then, and for one of the few times in her life, she forgot about her food. It was left lying on her plate as she rushed outside to find the nearest posting of news.
There, right outside the inn, papers posted all over the wall, papers telling of new shops opening, of lost pets, of upcoming festivals...
And there, right in the middle, a poster about the death of Princess Amelia Wil Tesla Sailoon.
It didn't say much, at least not enough for Lina. It was just an announcement, stating that the princess has been murdered, and a public funeral would be held X day at X place, and a nice drawing of the Princess. Further down the paper was a statement that the murderer was unknown and follow-up reports would be posted soon. Not near enough to satisfy Lina Inverse.
She had turned and started to go inside to get Gourry when something else caught her eye.
Once a week, an obituary would be posted. A name, and occasionally a rough sketch of the deceased would be listed, and today just happened to be the day when one was posted.
It was just a quick drawing, obviously by someone not very skilled at portraits and probably just looking to make a quick sack of coins. But it was enough for Lina to recognize a humanesque Zelgadis. If she hadn't, then the name "ZELGADIS GRAYWOODS" written next to it would have clued her in.
Lina had cared for Zelgadis, and she could tell he cared for her as well. IN the last five years, he's managed to get several letters to her, no matter where she was. They were nearly all alike, saying that he had not yet found a cure, where he would be staying by the time the letter reached her in case she found a lead and wanted to give it to him, and that he was looking forward to the group's reunion in Sailoon. Yes, Zelgadis had cared for her, and he'd obviously found his cure, and he DID make it to Sailoon for the reunion.
As if the death of one extremely close traveling companion and friend wasn't enough.
Oh yeah, it was enough for Lina. Now she was going to Gourry's room, wake him up, and leave Sailoon. They'd stay a few nights outside the white magic capital, and come back in time for the group's reunion. Amelia and Zelgadis would both be fine.
"Gourry? Are you up yet? We're leaving."
Lina's question had not received an answer. She took the silence as a 'No' and knocked loudly, calling out again.
"Gourry! Wake up! We're leaving now!"
By now Lina's short temper and patience had maxed out, and she decided to resort to something more effective than shouting through a piece of dead tree.
She kicked the door down.
Then she went inside, Lina didn't see Gourry still sleeping. She didn't see him up and getting ready. She didn't even see him on the ground, trying to get a rat to come out of a hole in the wall. She didn't see him at all.
"...GOURRY!!"
...now she saw him.
He was lying behind the bed, so that you had to come in and walk around to the other side of the room to see him.
Not that anyone would really want to see his ashen, swollen face, his open, unseeing eyes staring straight ahead, his stiff hands pressed against an open mouth where a deep crimson, nearly black foam was dripping.
And now, here she was, sitting in the corner of his room, and looking over a book she found on the table.
There was nothing on the cover of the book. There was nothing on the first page. There was nothing on the second page. In fact, there was nothing on any of the pages as Lina flipped through.
No, that wasn't right. There were words the second time she looked through the book, words that formed a poem, written on the first page:
Four little indians chopping at a tree,
One got sliced up, and then there were three.
Three little indians taking photographs of you,
One photo faded, and then there were two.
Two little indians eating and having fun,
One was poisoned, and then there was one.
One little indian reading all alone,
She went and picked a rose,
AND THEN THERE WERE NONE.
This confused Lina, as it made no sense to her. But as she continued looking through the book, more words came into focus, red lettering burning their way across the silver pages before fading into brown.
If you are reading this, Lina-san, then it would only mean that I've successfully killed off your friends. And if my timing is right, just before your reunion in Sailoon. I imagine you should be very grieved and angry at me now, and would kill me without a second thought - if you could, that is. Sigh. I know you don't consider me a friend - a hardly trustworthy ally at times, perhaps - but surely not a friend. And you understand you are the same to myself, nothing more than a tool that I use when I need, and discard when I do not.
The time thing group has been traveling together has been most entertaining. Countless laughs, satisfying meals, endless entertainment. But, sadly, you became dull. That's too bad.
Tooooooooo bad.
See, I decided to have one last bit of fun. And what other way to have one last bit of fun that to kill you all?
So in parting, I leave you another poem as a gift:
Roses are red,
A deep crimson hue,
Just like the blood,
That will drip from you.
Enjoy! ^_^
The rest of the pages were blank, and what was written had started to fade away, like the burned-out embers of a fire. Lina closed the book and stared at it, the silver glow fading into dull, cracked leather. She sat against the wall, clutched the book, not really seeing or feeling anything. He tired, unfocused eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep, mostly from exhaustion of too much emotion before breakfast.
* * * * *
Oblivion
Floating in the darkness
Seeing nothing
Hearing nothing
I open my eyes
Trying to see something
Anything
But something I never see
I reach out my hands
Trying to feel something
Anything
But something I never feel
Floating in the darkness
Floating in oblivion
Lina looked around, seeing nothing. She leaned forward and had a vague sense of movement, but in what direction she couldn't tell. Just ahead of her, a tiny pinpoint of light appeared, like a flickering star, and then died out. Something was better than nothing, so Lina leaned in that direction.
As she neared the spot where the light seemed to appear, Lina could still see nothing. She continued pressing forward, not having much sense of direction or space. She knew that if she kept going in one direction, sooner or later she had to reach something.
Up ahead, there was a single rose. It was floating, like her, in the midst of emptiness. Desperate for something real to cling to, Lina reached out and snatched at the rose. It bit her finger, and tiny droplets of blood oozed out. They didn't fall; rather, they floated out around the rose before thinning out and fading away.
As Lina transferred the rose to her other hand, she poked her bleeding finger into her mouth and sucked on it, the blood having that taste of iron and dirt, like unwashed vegetables.
When her bleeding finger stopped, Lina held the rose carefully, with two fingers between the sharp thorns. As she examined the soft, red petals, though, she felt another prick, and another, and another. Her gaze shifted down to her hand, where the thorns of the rose had grown, the stem crawling down her arm.
Lina was oblivious to the pain as the tugged and pulled at the rose with her free hand, but as she did the thorns bit deeper, halfway up her arm now. There was nothing she could do to stop it from cutting through her flesh and dripping blood, all of which hung, poised in the air, as if waiting for a signal before dissolving into the darkness.
Now it had reached her shoulder, and Lina thought for a moment that it was going straight for her neck, but it seemed that as she thought this, the stem of the rose changed its path and curled around her body. It grew three more branches, one spreading down her other arm, and one to each leg, the main stem staying at her shoulder. At the same moment, when she was completely twisted within the sharp, bloodthirsty thorns of the rose, all tightened at once, biting deep and cutting through her.
She was still alive, however, her will strong. Even as she hung, bleeding to death, she recognized the eyes that appeared in sharp focus, contrasting against the darkness blurred by the red of her own blood. Her mouth moved, for she had no breath after the thorns had cut her throat open, but the name was on her lips as the last of her life's blood drained from her.
Roses are red, just like you, when you are dead, dripping a deep crimson hue...my, I need to work on my poetry...
