By Eve
Author's Notes: *hides behind muse* Don't kill me… Honestly, I didn't mean to do it. It just, well, kind of fit. I promise that I'll make up for it, honest! Just don't kill me… Relena does make an appearance of the sort. She's coming soon…
Warning: *pulls out checklist* I feel like Santa Claus with this, checking my list twice. There's major violence in this chapter. Blood, gore, and torture in some fun twisted way. With a few implications of sex, insanity, and so on… And to top it all of with, *sets Duo muse in front of her* DEATH…
Dedication: To Ani-chan, my pride and joy. I want to read your story. To oneechan, *cough* haven't mailed me back girl! And to Starlight-oneechan, my best friend and hopefully won't go Evil Kamui on my butt for this part. It's cruel…
**
I see hell in your eyes.
Taken in by surprise.
Touching you makes me feel so alive.
Touching you make die inside…
Slept So Long, Jay Gordon- "Queen of the Damned Soundtrack"
Being greeted by deadening silence was not the most comforting feeling in the world. Micah walked in, Alexi in tow with the eyes of every single person in the room falling onto him. I've prepared for this moment for so long. Why am I so nervous? He moved forward to the front, expression hardening. He could handle this. It was for his family. This moment belonged to him.
"Well, well. If it isn't the Great Jackass himself? Welcome to the land of the living, little boy," Hilde greeted from her spot next to one of the Gundam pilots, Duo Maxwell. His eyes widened at the possessive arm the man had around the smaller woman.
"Betraying Adan, Schibecker?"
The comment didn't faze her at all. The woman had the audacity to smirk and place both her feet on top of the long table. She unconsciously leaned into Maxwell. "Well sugar-daddy, I'm sure you remember that I saw his body being burned to a crisp so I do know that he's dead. And secondly, he will always have a place in my heart. My heart is mine to give." Her eyes darkened. "And let's not talk about your track record, dearie."
Dorothy intervened before anything else could be said. "Is there a reason why you specifically called us to talk, Micah?"
"We're short pilots. We need recruiting."
He looked around the room, eyes lingering on the present pilots. Catherine gave him a haunting gaze in return and shook her head. She hadn't even bothered greeting her own brother when she had returned. Regardless, she had brought the news of Chang Merian's capture prompting a nearly violent response from her husband. Most of the man's anger was directed at him for some reason. Probably because he was a source of anger for the girls themselves… He yet to find Relena as well…
"You called a formal meeting for this," Hilde spoke up, rolling her eyes. "I don't suppose you want us to go a hunting for some folks, eh?"
"You think you're funny," Micah hissed.
"I think she is," Maxwell countered with a smirk on his face.
"You would since you are fucking her."
"Why you son of a-"
*whoosh* A knife flew by his head and embedded itself across the wall. He brought his hand up to his check, feeling the blood trickle down his fingers. He met the eyes of Catherine across the room, her fingers still suspended in mid-air.
"Natia," he heard Alexi whisper.
She leaned back in her chair eyes never leaving his own surprised expression. "I suggest," she began quietly. "That you find a purpose to this meeting. And find it fast since Wufei is missing."
Oh god.
**
She slowly opened her eyes with a groan. Her vision cleared and she found herself strapped down to a chair. Her legs, arms, wrists were all bound. Shit. At least the only figured out that she worked for Paci, otherwise she would be shipped to the greater unknown.
"You're awake. I find you to be the most interesting prisoner."
She bit her lip from crying out in pain as she felt the bounds cut into her skin. Her eyes widened as she saw the shadow man pull out a long needle. Fuck, oh fuck…
"I see you recognize this me dear. Perhaps, you were in one of the camps, eh? A familiar needle, one laced with a hallucinogen and a pepper powder. Burns like hell."
She felt a cold finger trace its way up her arm. Injection. Like when they were trying to turn to me in the chamber. Ah, hell…
"Look jackass," she tried. "I couldn't tell you what you want to know probably. I'm just a minor officer."
Rambling was always good. It gave you the upper hand in some regards, giving you the ability see your captor's purpose and intelligence level. But she couldn't focus at all, her only choice of reliance being intelligence. She could see no face, but only hear voices and breathing. She had only the use of two senses left.
She heard the brush of moment and found herself smelling a mix of sweat and cheap cologne. Acting officer, girlfriend dumped him, family vengeance, usually Society victim…
"Now beautiful woman, I think that you need to tell me about your next move or I will-" She cried out in pain, lurching forward. Her arm began to throb rather painfully and she could smell her own blood starting to flow out of her body.
Blood, sweat, roses… She remembered a rainy day, along time ago. She violently shook her head. She was getting of focus and trying to alert herself, but her captor felt otherwise.
"Bitch… I'll just have to use other means…"
**
The cigarette hung limp from the corner of his mouth. He watched as random soldiers ran to and from, making arrangements for the next attack. Pawns. They were merely pawns in this fantastic game of mine. He placed a large hand on the window. The outside was calling to him, beckoning for him to come, to conquer.
"You do realize that your quest is completely useless."
He whirled around ready to fight, but was greeted by nothing but the darkening silence of the room. A man with no fears is a fool with ghost memories.
"Ellie, I don't tolerate jokes."
Silence.
"Michael?"
The cigarette fell to the floor, a small cloud of smoke rising. His hands were trembling and he stood stiffly watching the door. A man with ghost memories… I'm a fool. There's no one there. He fell to his knees, breathing heavily. The voices still echoed in his mind.
Says she a real cutie, the last pilot. But she's a real bitch when it comes to piloting those damn hunks of metal, boy. They call her the Angel of Death back in Ireland. She's got the long flowing hair that looks like strands of gold and shit. It's her eyes man, blue as the goddamn Nile. They'll drawl you in and BAM! You be a-floating to the afterlife. She'll watch you, Tommy-boy. Her voice drawls you in like a siren outta a myth or somethin'. Then she'll kill you with her eyes. Heh, killer blues… The Silence protects us all, Tommy-boy. Remember that.
"Dad?"
Remember Tommy-boy.
"I will come back for you."
Silence.
**
She was dizzy.
Her vision was blurry.
She felt like vomiting.
And how many goddamn needles were stuck in her arm?
"So dear, you going tell me what I want to know? Or do I have to keep inserting my friends into your beautiful, beautiful body."
The bounds had been cut. The stupid man had know that she would been able to move after had inserted the drugs in her system.
"Fuck you, asshole. That's what I've go to say."
His foot connected into her stomach and she fell to the ground, gasping for air. The pain was nothing but a memory for her. Her life had been a kick in the gut. She coughed, blood pouring out of her mouth.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Fuck. You. Asshole."
His fist connected with her face and her head connected with the concrete. Even bleeding to death wasn't too appealing. She's always promise herself she'd go out with a bang, but this was getting ridiculous. She pushed both her hands under chest, readying herself to fight when necessary.
"I just want to know where the massive shipping base is. It's a simple question dear."
I don't think I can handle you kicking me in the fucking gut one more time, a-hole. She nimbly traced the torn pieces of her shirt. Six broken ribs and I can't-
"Well?"
Vomit rose through her throat and this time she couldn't stop from coming out.
Sweat, blood, and the smell of rotting flesh…
Flesh, flesh, flesh…
Thursday, February 14…
Valentine's Day Massacre…
A.C 194.
Dead, dead, dead…
"Merian," a voice hissed in her ear. She moaned, a whirlwind of unnatural senses erupting in her body. "Merian, onna! Get up."
She rolled over and tried to force her eyes open. Her success was limited however, when she found that her vision was still dark.
"Can't-see."
"I'm going to have to lift you up, onna."
Urgency.
I'm dead, dead, dead.
Fei? Where are you Fei?
"Wufei?"
"Hai, onna. We're gettin' you outta of here."
Thundering footsteps.
Choices.
Too many damn choices!
Can't stop to help you. Got too much of my own shit to worry about.
She could smell the outpouring of blood a mile away. "Did you kill him?" Her voice was soft and tired, the delirium finally getting to her.
There was no answer, just the faint sound of his breathing. Wufei crushed Merian to his chest, extracting a whimper. "Broken-broken, I have broken b-ones."
"I know. Not much longer."
"Fei…"
Blood.
Dead, dead, dead, dead.
I love you, Mer.
Dead, dead, dead, dead.
Suddenly, she was flung from comfort of Wufei's arms.
Thud-thud- BANG.
Thud-BANG-thud.
The smell of blood crept its way over and invaded her senses. She could move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't breath.
"Fei?"
Silence.
Thud-BANG.
"Wufei?"
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.
I love you…
"WUFEI!"
**