Dream of Crimson Chapter 13: Part Thirteen, a weiss kreuz fanfic

Dream of Crimson – Part XIII

By Vikki

Disclaimer: Ken and Aya and a few others are the property of Takehito Koyasu. Bethany/Bel'uah, Yumi, and Raphael are mine and I reserve the right to kill them on a whim.

Flame Policy: TOOOUDAAAA!! ^^x;;;;

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The rain was coming down hard.

Yumi and I had managed to heft Aya long enough to get him out of the rain. However, I couldn't bear the sight of Pierre's pathetic-looking body lying crumpled on the ground, and I piled stones on top of him until he was covered as a makeshift grave before huddling with Yumi under the crumbling eaves of the shrine.

Bel'uah was coming. She was close enough to sense. I gripped the demonsbane so tight my knuckles turned white. My hip was throbbing a bit; my entire body was stiff and sore.

Yumi put her hand on mine. "A little on edge, are we?" she asked wanly.

"I-I'm not ready for this," I managed, pulling my hand away. "It's nothing. I never will be ready, and I never would have been." It was an effort to keep my voice from trembling, because deep down, I knew completely that I had no hope alone. No mortal, Hunter or not, could possibly stand a chance against a real, live demon.

Yumi looked down at her hands. They were covered with scars from slicing herself open for spell after spell. "I'm sorry … sorry about everything," she said. "I didn't mean to … to get you drawn into this."

I laughed mirthlessly. "Don't give yourself so much credit," I snorted. "The one who drew me into this mess was Aya himself. Although I suppose Bethany was the real reason he dragged me along … ultimately, it all goes back to her. Your coven. Aya. Pierre. If you want to blame someone, blame Bel'uah."

Yumi smiled slightly, clearly not quite believing me. "Thank you, Ken-san." Then, abruptly, her eyes sharpened. "Ken-san, she's no more than two kilometers away," she murmured. "Be on your guard."

Yumi had more experience using her 'spirit sense', as she called it, than I did; although I knew Bethany was getting close, I had no concept of what distance constituted 'close' (as most of my sixth sense-related encounters entailed 'close' as being 'already pinned'). So when she said that Bel'uah was only two kilometers away, I believed her.

I don't think that either of us realized just how fast Bethany could cross two kilometers.

Yumi swayed to her feet. "I think I'm going to try to call up a shikigami," she said gently. "It may take me a few minutes; stay here, you don't want to be too close when the spirit first rises," she advised even as she produced the knife she seemed to carry around solely to cut herself with. She walked towards the corner of the shrine's eaves and faced me, slashing her palm with the knife. She closed her eyes, clasping her hands together. Blood dripped freely from her joined fists. She began to chant.

I looked down at Aya, still passed out on the cold stone, his face peaceful in sleep. He looked so much more … pleasant … and maybe even pretty ... when he wasn't scowling or shooting a Death Glare at anyone in the general vicinity. How a man like this could have ended up sucked in to Bethany's desires, I didn't know. I did know had been my last words – whatever she promised you for your service, you'll never get from her – that had triggered his violent argument with Bel'uah inside his head. I wondered what Bethany could have promised Aya to make him join her.

I pushed his bangs away from his sweaty forehead and saw worry lines there. Funny how I'd never noticed them before. I wondered what Aya was—

She was here.

Two kilometers. It took her less than a minute to cross two kilometers! "Yumi-san!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet, Aya's worry lines forgotten for the moment. "Yumi-san, Bel'uah's—"

I cut off the moment I looked up.

Yumi had stopped chanting. But that was probably because there was a big, black, gleaming blade stuck straight through her throat.

I made a strangled noise.

Yumi was still alive. She stared at me, mouth working soundlessly; her dark brown eyes were full of shock and sadness and … disappointment. Blood was running down her chest. She wasn't supporting herself; she was practically hanging from the blade.

With a sick, sucking, splurch, the sword was withdrawn from Yumi's neck only to reappear through her chest. Right through her heart. Sick parody of a vampire's death, I thought dazedly. Blood spurted. Yumi's eyes widened and unfocused and her mouth opened wide and I think she would have screamed if the gaping hole in her throat wasn't there.

And all I could do was stand there helplessly, staring like an idiot.

There were no dramatic last words or even feelings conveyed; Yumi make choked sounds, sort of, and her bleeding throat attempted to suck down air. She convulsed once, violently, and died. Her eyes glazed over and her body shut down, slumping from its rigid death pose.

Revealing, unsurprisingly, the petite, blood-spattered figure of Bethany Gramm, who dispassionately shook Yumi's body off her oversized sword and let her flop to the ground, drowning in a crimson puddle.

I was going to be violently sick. But first, I was going to kill Bel'uah. A hundred times over. A thousand times. Maybe a million times, just for kicks. I was shaking. Was it rage, or shock? Or both? Did it matter? I kept trying to tell myself that I hadn't seen what I just saw. It was too surreal. It was too sudden. It didn't happen. People weren't allowed to die that suddenly. Aya was proof.

But Yumi wasn't going to come back. Because Yumi was just a human. Not a vampire. Not a werewolf. A human who could tap the lifestream.

I was shaking with anger and horror combined, I decided. Because regardless of what methods Yumi had used to get her desires, her motives were pure.

She didn't deserve to die like that. Just as Aya didn't deserve to die on the floor of the Koneko the night before. I trembled with rage.

Bethany looked up at me from under brown bangs made wet by the rain, those unnerving blue eyes boring into me. "You had so much potential, Hidaka-san," she said, a bell of regret ringing in her tone.

I snapped.

Like a rubber band stretched for too long, too many times, I broke. If Yumi's death was the straw that broke the camel's back, that sentence was the hay-load that crushed it. "It's. ALL. Your. Fault!" I screamed. I was hysterical. I didn't care. "Everything! You set me up! You ruined Aya! You killed Yumi! You killed all those witches and countless others remorselessly, you made Aya turn Youji into a vampire, you nearly drove Omi crazy! It's all your fault and I am going to fucking kill you, you goddamned asshole bitch!"

This wasn't for Tokyo anymore. This was fucking personal.

And you know what really bites? Bethany wasn't phased at all. She looked down her nose at me, the tip of her bloody sword resting on the ground in front of her, her hands on the pommel. "If' you'd only killed Kaori Yamamoto when I told you to, most of this could have been avoided," she said calmly.

Oh no. Not this time. I was tired of shouldering the guilt. She was not going to dump this on me! "Don't play with me!" I growled, and was rewarded with a slight widening of Bethany's eyes. "I am not responsible for this."

It felt so good to say that, despite everything. It felt so good to know that it was true.

And it felt really good to finally ruffle Bethany's feathers. She narrowed her eyes a bit. "If you think you've done something wonderful, you really ought to reconsider," she said coldly. "Thanks to you, the fighting between witches and vampires will continue, and more innocent people will die. If you had killed Yamamoto there would have been peace!"

"Peace like World War II," I shot back. "People too terrified to dissent for fear of being shot in the street – that's peace?! Peace, my ass!"

The look Bethany gave me for that little comment stood my hair on end, but I wasn't about to back down. "I am giving you one last chance, Hidaka-san, to stop being ridiculous and obey me. You still have 8 hours. If you succeed I will be willing to … overlook this little episode and let you live in allegiance with me," she offered stiffly.

If I still had any sort of restraint, I would have said something less stupid. But I wasn't exactly doing well in the tact department at that point. "I would much rather die," I said flatly, "And you must be pretty damn desperate to be pulling the fear card on me. What's got you so afraid? Or is it this little number?" I held out the Gladius Deum proudly.

For the record: don't ever tell a demon that she's desperate. Or, for that matter, point out what she's afraid of. Unless you're much, much more powerful than she is. Because that was the point at which Bethany got tired of talking and attacked.

Bethany's blows rained down on me, her sword flying in her hands. I could barely follow the movement; I backpedaled furiously. She moved like a shadow, and somehow she blended in with the semi-dark of the dreary midday rain as if she was not really there. I had the demonsbane on my side, it was true, but I was not half so fast as Bethany, who was several times faster than Aya, or as agile as her, or as strong as her. I was outclassed in every department, because I was a pathetic little human-Hunter-werewolf-thing facing off with a demon. The only reason I lasted as long as I ended up lasting was because the Gladius Deum seemed to fight on its own. I wasn't nearly fast enough (or strong enough) to parry her sword with any sort of effectiveness, but in my hands, the demonsbane sword flashed to protect me. And always, I could hear the song of the sword, like a strange comfort in the back of my mind.

However, it did little to suppress the terror rising within me. She moved like the wind and never tired. I lost sense of time; there was nothing but her blade and mine, clashing against each other in cascades of sparks as if each weapon were a firecracker, and Bel'uah's leering face full of confidence and hate.

I did know that some time had passed, though, because I was so cold and wet from the drenching rain, dripping from my hair down the back of my neck; I could feel my arms getting sluggish; the effort of holding up the Gladius Deum was becoming a strain; the toll of insomnia was coming back to bite me. I couldn't concentrate any more. I slipped in a puddle.

It was all the opening Bethany needed.

Off-balance, I thrust out my arms to catch myself, and with a triumphant shout Bethany stepped inside my sword range and slit my left arm open from my elbow to my shoulder.

I've been cut before. I've been cut pretty badly before. In fact, this wound wasn't half as bad as the one Stacey gave me shooting me in the shoulder or a couple that Farfello's given me in the past. But this wound put me in more agony than either. I screamed and let go of the demonsbane with my right hand to grab at my shoulder, the sticky blood spilling onto my hand only to be washed away by the pouring rain. My entire arm felt as if it was dunked in gasoline, lit on fire, and shoved into a barrel of ice – if that makes any sense. The feeling was so contradictory, but the pain was very definite.

Fortunately, unlike Pierre, Bethany seemed to want to take a minute to revel in my agony. She smiled coldly. "Do you wish you'd chosen differently?" she asked.

It was so much effort to do it, but I sucked a breath from between my teeth, straightened, and released my shoulder. I held my hand palm-up in the rain to clean it before grasping the Gladius Deum with both hands again. "Shut up," I gritted out. My arm throbbed with fire and ice, almost blotting out the song of the demonsbane.

Bethany laughed a remorseless, bone-chilling laugh and came down on me again with her sword. Every parried blow felt as if my arm were being ripped open again by the jarring impact, and I was so slow she scored several more, less severe cuts on my thigh, my right shoulder, and across my chest. "You asked if I was afraid," she said loftily as if it were a conversation over dinner. "I fear nothing – especially not foolish Hunters pretending they know how to use a sword!" She punctuated these last words with a punishing attack that nearly knocked the Gladius Deum from my hands and (to my endless surprise) punched me in the stomach.

Her punch packed about twenty times the power Pierre's did. I literally flew backwards about three meters, and if my stitches hadn't torn before, they definitely had now. The only reason I didn't cry out was because the wind was knocked out of me; the pain was so severe I nearly impaled myself on my own sword while obliviously curling around my torso, blood filling my mouth and making me cough while at the same time my body attempted to fill my lungs with air. The result was a strange combination of hitched breaths and hacking coughs, and all the while my bleeding arm throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

Call me ungrateful, but there were only two things I could think right then. The first one was, don't let go of the demonsbane, or you're finished, and the second thought was why didn't she just impale me on her sword the way she did Yumi?

"Despite your … idiocy, Hidaka-san, I think that a quick death may be too good for you," Bethany said from somewhere over me, as if reading my mind. Then, I might have said that last thought out loud. I was kind of floaty; my brain was still trying to deny the degree of hurt I was experiencing. "You have caused me a great deal of unnecessary trouble. Also …" there was a thoughtful pause, which was morbidly funny because now that I thought about it, it was strange that demons had to stop to think. "It's been some time since I've killed with my own hands. I think I should draw out the pleasure a bit," she says in a pleasant 'let's chat over tea' voice.

I was not going to be sick. I really wasn't. But I was already on the ground hacking up blood, and it didn't seem like too much trouble to add whatever was left in my stomach to the puddle. By the time the coughing fit had settled and my torso had finally decided to stop being Hell on earth (settling instead for being a lake of fire), I was so exhausted that sitting up was going to take most of my energy. The world kept tilting crazily when I opened my eyes; My arm was getting stiff under me, and the wound wouldn't stop bleeding. The stab wound on my pelvis had reopened. There was only one thought in my (shaky and largely shattered) mind:

Don't let go of the demonsbane.

Bethany's fingers slipped under my chin and forced me to look at her, her hand locked around my jaw. I didn't resist; I didn't have the energy to. My entire effort was devoted to attempting (and failing) to lift the Gladius Deum.

Bethany smiled a slow, cruel smile. I didn't see her sword, which strangely frightened me. She drew one arm back. "Just think how lucky you are," she whispered. "The very last thing you will ever see … is me."

My fear shot up into the range of panic-stricken terror and I tried to tear away, but her hand on my jaw held me fast. Her drawn-back hand drove forward.

Into my left eye.

I don't really remember what happened immediately after that, because there was a roaring in my ears and my vision was gone, just gone, and it hurt so badly but not the way that it hurt to be shot or cut and I think I was screaming or crying or something but I wasn't sure what exactly because all I knew was pain and shock and fear all at once.

When I came back to myself, I was still collapsed on the ground. The rain was heavy and drenching and seemed to hurt, my pain threshold was so low. I hadn't let go of the Gladius Deum; I could feel the imprints the leather grip was making on my palms. My hearing wasn't quite right yet, because I could hear the rain but it sounded scratchy and as if ocean waves were crashing somewhere nearby. Something wet and sticky was running down the left side of my face; there was pain in my left eye socket, but it was distant, barely throbbing.

I couldn't see out of my left eye.

How could I describe it? It wasn't like I 'saw' blackness; my vision had merely been reduced to half its original range. I had no sense of depth. Everything was inverted in color and blurry, but that was probably because I was half-delirious. I saw Bethany's black (so it was really white) face looking at me bemusedly. She was clearly enjoying this. I felt both disgust and bone-chilling fear. My entire body locked up at the sight of her and everything hurt more. I could see blood on her fingers and I wanted to throw up but I didn't have anything left to heave. "I-I-I … p-please …" I began through chattering teeth, not sure what I was begging for. I was in shock. I had just lost an eye, and I was in shock.

"'Please', what, Hidaka-san?" she asked, taking my chin in her hand again.

I froze at that gesture; my mind was going a million kilometers a second and at the same time was stuck. She was going to take out my other eye. She was going to blind me. Bethany was going to stab out my eyes and blind me and then keep right on torturing me until I was dead.

I couldn't die. I had sworn to kill Bel'uah. I had to avenge Aya and Youji and Omi and Yumi. I had to protect Tokyo. I had to get away … had to get up …

"Let … let h-him … let him g-go," stammered a voice from the direction of the Kami no Kaze shrine.

Bethany looked up and cocked an eyebrow and released me. I let my head fall to the stone floor and twisted it slowly to see the newcomer.

It was Aya. He stood, trembling slightly, in the rain, his katana gripped tightly in both gloved hands, his eyes narrowed dangerously in his 'Takatori, shi-ne!' glare. That glare was focused solely on Bethany. "I-I've had e-enough!" His voice shook as if was a great effort to speak, which was strange in conjunction with his fierce face.

Blood was getting in my eye. (My eye, my one and only eye! Oh god, don't let me faint.) With a great deal of effort I let go of the demonsbane with one hand and wiped the blood away in time to see Bethany's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm amazed you can speak to me that way," she said. "The things you told me earlier today were quite mutinous."

Amazed … Mutinous …? I took slow, deep breaths, trying to slow my breathing from terror-driven near-hyperventilation, trying to get my strength back, and trying to comprehend the situation. Ninety minutes before Aya had been trying to kill me, and I had the wound to prove it; now he was facing up to Bethany!

Aya actually flinched at her words, though, and I cringed in sympathy. He looked as if he were fighting something I couldn't see. "I … I want …" he drew a deep breath, his scowl never losing its intensity. "I … c-can't let … can't l-let you k-kill him. I-I ne-ne-never wanted to!"

Bethany's voice went cold and dead, and I could feel that horrible spiritual oppression that she had used on me that one time in her office come down hard. "I was willing to overlook your foolishness before, Fujimiya, because I needed you. But I will not tolerate this any longer. Do not forget the terms of our contract!"

But while I whimpered quietly and clutched at my aching head, Aya never wavered. He spoke deliberately, nearly shouting, shaking his head so rain droplets flew off his hair and nose. "I. Break. Our. Contract!"

I threw my free arm over my head instinctively as I felt something shatter, but there was nothing to protect myself from. The shatter was completely metaphysical.

I thought I saw Bel'uah recoil, her fearful aura withdrawing so fast I felt as if I was floating for an instant. Then I was sightless again as blood began to get into my eye again. I wiped it away while some lonely, cynical part of my mind thought that my empty eye socket (I held back my bile) would never stop bleeding, and neither would any of my other wounds. Another mysterious part of me observed that I was doing a little better if I had time to think about that. I attempted to dredge myself up slowly from the ground, but I was so disoriented that I did nothing better than get the demonsbane, still clutched in my hand, in front of me so I could hoist myself onto my elbows. At least the blood wouldn't drip into my eyes (eye) any more.

Aya was talking again, and now his voice wasn't hesitant or halting, as if breaking the contract, whatever that was, really had freed him to talk to Bethany any way he wanted. "—from you, because you won't leave here alive," he snarled. "You were never going to heal her! You strung me along for almost a year!"

Bethany glared at him arrogantly. "You fool," she whispered. "You were so close. So close! You were my best vampire!"

I knew the rage in Aya's eyes all too well, and I had never before been so relieved to see it. "Bel'uah! Shi-ne!" He charged.

Bethany held out her hand and her sword wavered back into existence with an intense wave of evil like ice cracking my bones. She smiled.

If I had premonition, I could have been no more certain that Aya was going to die. "Aya! Don't!" I cried desperately, brokenly. "You can't—"

Aya, ever the direct one, raised his katana over his head and brought it down on Bethany's sword with a resounding clang. Something intangible came off the evil blade, and Aya's katana shattered. He was thrown back like a rag doll, his body out of my sight in the pouring rain. "Aya!" I screamed hoarsely just as distant thunder rumbled. Bethany cocked her head and looked down at me. "Shush, boy; of course I'll be good enough to kill him in front of you."

I cursed a blue streak at her and tried to stand again through a haze of dizziness and pain, and again failed although now I had my knees underneath me. Vaguely I wondered how much blood I had lost; the rest of me was consumed by fear, worry, and anger. Bethany just laughed and leapt away into the rain, leaving me alone with the approaching thunder.

I squeezed my eye shut and tears rolled out of it. Aya was on our side. He had overcome and come back.

Just in time to die.

A strangled shout, suddenly cut off, emerged from the quiet roar of falling rain. I frantically tried to gain my feet, but the blood loss … it was too much. I could see the red rivulets of rain-diluted blood under my body. The bleeding had slowed and the pain was numbing (shock, I knew, but I would take what I could get) but even my adrenaline wouldn't get me off the cold courtyard floor.

When Bethany reappeared, carrying Aya by the throat, it was all I could do to not burst into hysterical tears and let myself die. He was bleeding all over; his dangerous violet eyes were dazed, almost glazed over. His breath was labored and strained. I ducked my head, shutting my eye.

"Watch," Bethany snarled, and I couldn't stop myself looking back up slowly. "Any last words, Aya?"

Torture. Oh god, Bethany really was extending my death as long as possible as my blood slowly washed away in a fog of pain. A dream bathed in crimson.

Aya's eyes drifted towards me. I stared at him, unable to look away. "Ken …" he grunted feebly. He drew a strangled breath. "Ken, my imouto … take care of …" his voice ground to a halt as Bethany's grip tightened.

My own breath caught. Imouto? Aya has a … younger sister?

That poor girl …

She didn't deserve this. Aya didn't deserve this. I was going to stand up. I was going to stand and swing the demonsbane sword and cut Bethany in half—

No miracles happened. I didn't stand up. The Gladius Deum sang quietly in my ears but did not magically move. And Bethany didn't drop dead.

She plunged her sword through Aya's heart, and before he could even react, she grasped his neck in both hands and twisted his head right off his shoulders.

I never had and probably never will see a more gruesome death. It was the sounds that made it horrible; I could hear Aya's neck break, the sinews tearing, the horrible little aughk noise that constituted the last of his breath passing through his vocal cords, the squelch of blood and muscle and tissue between Bethany's manicured fingers.

His body fell to the ground with a wet plop and his head rolled within two feet of me.

I know she killed him that way for my benefit because she grinned ferally at me as she let the rain wash the blood and flesh off her fingers.

I stared at Aya's head for the most horrible eternal moment of my entire existence. And then, with a little gasp of breath, I collapsed into darkness.

Oh god

She killed him for real

I can't except this death

I can't except her victory

I promised Yumi

I have to avenge them

Youji's condition

Breaking Omi

Killing Aya

Killing Yumi

Tokyo

Aya's sister

I can't die yet

I promised them all

But … I'm so tired of this!

I'm tired

Yet …

Bel'uah is going to kill me

She's killing me

I'm dying already

Is revenge worth the pain?

I don't know anymore.

But …

I know …

I don't want to die.

I opened my eyes.

The first thing I knew was that the rain had let up a bit and the thunder was closer. The second thing I knew was that my left eye was still gone, I was still in pain, and I was still bleeding. But more importantly … I was still breathing.

Good sign.

But I felt different. Very different. It wasn't a bad different; just a strange one. I felt … confident. Strong in mind. Secure in heart.

My fear – my terror of Bethany – was totally gone.

Very strange … what was this? Was I just completely without fear because I had no hope and knew I was going to die? Was I already dead and just thought I was still alive? I thought I'd seen that in a movie once.

But … why did it matter how I had gotten back my confidence? I still had the Gladius Deum. I could fight back. If I was dead, then this wasn't such a bad way to be dead at all.

It was time to get Bel'uah out of Japan and back to Hell.

I had the energy to get to my feet now, but I didn't want to just get up. My sixth sense told me that Bethany was to my left, so I rolled to my right, placing the demonsbane sword so I wouldn't cut myself on it. I came to my feet, my blade in my hands where it belonged.

Whoa … where did I get sword skills?

Bethany. I had to stay focused, which I found easy for someone who was literally having the blood washed out of them. I looked up sharply and peered through the rain with my one good eye, only bothered slightly by the lack of whole vision.

What I saw made me gape.

There was Bethany, all right, but she was staring at me as if I had suddenly sprouted wings. And … was that terror I saw in her eyes?

Yet, that wasn't the really surprising part.

I could see Bethany the nonhuman still, but … occupying the same space … was a huge, hulking creature with a black, scaly hide, large dragon wings, flaring nostrils spitting sulfur, huge clawed fingers and toes, gigantic curved fangs, and pupil-less yellow eyes. It was no less frightened than Bethany.

And I knew immediately (already knew, some part of me thought) that this ugly creature was the true form of the demon Bel'uah. That it was hiding in the form of Bethany, but I had exposed it.

I should have been frightened. I should have wanted to scream because every hulking inch of Bel'uah was terrifying and deadly. But I was only strongly repulsed. "I've won, Bel'uah," I said. "It's over. I've won." I have? I thought. I haven't touched her … it. Whatever. It sounded good, anyway, and I knew – there was no doubt – that I was telling the truth. I had won. Perhaps I had just won by cheating death.

But Bel'uah just stared at me with wide blue eyes and bulbous yellow ones. "I killed you! I tore you limb from limb with my own claws!" it shrieked, both its human form and its true form speaking in one voice. "You are not alive!"

I knew what it was talking about. I remember this!? This isn't my memory! I thought fiercely. Things were getting a little weird, but I knew what to say and said it. "You have no power over death. That right was stripped from you."

"No!" Bel'uah squealed. 'Squealed' was definitely the right word for it; it sounded like a little schoolgirl who wanted candy and couldn't have it. "I have power! I earned my power! I will keep my power, and I'll kill you again, and again, and again until you die for good!"

That would have terrified me only minutes ago, but now I knew it was an empty threat. What the hell caused this turnaround? What is Bel'uah so scared of in me!?

But I knew the answer to that question.

The song of the Gladius Deum no longer resonated through my palms. It was inside me. I was the song—

And the song was an angel. Whose name, incidentally, was Raphael. And, he had banished Bel'uah to Hell twice in the past.

"I really have won," I murmured in slight amazement.

Bel'uah let loose an agonized scream and attacked me.

I could feel my wounds, could feel the horrible pain of them burning on my skin and under my skin, but using the confidence and skill of Raphael, I pushed back the pain and engaged her, our swords clashing again and again. I had to compensate for the loss of sight in my left eye, which forced me to go on the defensive a bit more than I would have liked (although going on the offensive at all was an improvement over the first engagement). I slashed and parried and ducked and spun and feinted and stabbed and scored hits and received a couple hits. It wasn't an easy fight by any stretch of the imagination, but at least I wasn't ridiculously outclassed this time. In fact … we were just about even. But if I was disadvantaged in that I was slowly bleeding to death in the pouring rain, I had the sizable advantage of not being afraid.

It was strange to be fighting the duel natures of Bel'uah – I was still able to see both her humanoid and dragonesque forms as we fought all across the courtyard. But just as Bethany was a physical manifestation of Bel'uah, the Gladius Deum was a physical manifestation of Raphael and his sword. If I scored a hit on Bethany, I scored a hit on Bel'uah as well.

And that was when Bel'uah tripped up – literally. Bethany was backing away from my onslaught when she tripped on a piece of rubble and fell onto her back. The demon form collapsed as well, but instead of attempting to get up … it began to grovel, pleading for mercy. I marveled for a moment before I instinctively put my sword to its neck, which shut it up promptly.

"I told you I'd won," I said quietly, the rain dripping off my hair and onto Bethany's soaked form, a rumble of thunder threatening. "I should … I should tear you to pieces. I should kill you and watch you regenerate and kill you again!" My voice shook with emotion. "I should torture you for killing Aya … killing Yumi!"

Bel'uah just swallowed, watching me with wild eyes. I caused this. I won! Bel'uah was afraid of Raphael at first, but … now … it is afraid of me.

Yet … Oh, it was so tempting to do horrible things to Bel'uah. I wanted almost nothing but to be able to torture this demon with my own hands! Yet … I didn't really stay alive for revenge. I stayed alive …

… because I didn't want to die.

Because there is something out there after this mess.

If I tried to keep Bel'uah here on earth just so I could have my fill torturing it, there would be disaster. So I did the hardest thing I thought I had ever done.

I gave up revenge.

"But …" I trembled as I spoke. "But you are terrified of me, and I think … I think that's the worst thing I can do to you right now … so … I will send you …" I took a deep breath. "… to Hell."

There was a pause in which Bel'uah actually cringed.

It didn't want to go to Hell. Well. Good.

"Please … don't send me there," Bel'uah whispered in a broken voice.

"I hope you rot there forever," I said passionately.

I swept the Gladius Deum through the air, opening a rift into … nothingness. Immediately Bel'uah panicked, screaming, pleading with me to not be sent back to that awful place.

I watched with unspoken pleasure as Bel'uah was dragged, screaming, through the hole in time and space and disappeared.

Forever.

What a wonderful word that was.

The rift closed itself like a self-zipping zipper.

I was just beginning to notice that the rain was nearly stopped when my blood loss caught up with me, and like an anemic I toppled into unconsciousness.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Well.

I ground it out.

There it is. The climax. It's done.

Well … sort of. I'm sure Silver Angel will find something wrong with it, ne, Silver Angel? ^^x;;; Just kidding. Thanks again for all your help – you've been such an awesome reviewer.

Well, obviously there will be an epilogue. (I dunno, leaving Ken unconscious on the courtyard of a shrine out in the boonies just doesn't seem like a good ending point.) If you want to find out what exactly happened to Aya, you'll have to read that too; for the record, though, he really is DEAD this time. ::insert evil laughter here:: And Yumi … well, actually, I knew she was going to die about the time that her coven started being killed off. She was doomed. She won't be doing any weird appearances in the epilogue (as far as I know), so don't go looking for her.

Before everyone gets all huffy about the anticlimactic angel/demon fight, it's supposed to be anticlimactic. The moment Raphael appears, it's all over for Bel'uah. She/it doesn't stand a chance against an angel. She knows it. I plan to go into why in … yes! The sequel!

Because, in case you can't tell, there will be a sequel. I'll talk a little bit more about it after this part has been edited to Silver Angel's satisfaction (wink ^~x;;) and the epilogue is up.

Don't forget to stop by the edited part 12 if you haven't already. I made a few significant changes, especially to the Aya part.

Thank you again and again and again to everyone who reviewed! You all make me feel very special and very loved. Keeshe, I'm still in shock over the length of your review; thank you soooooo much! That is exactly the kind of review that writers like me love.

Please don't forget to review this time too! ^~x

~~Vikki