by Yukitsu
Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction. None of the characters -- the cannon fodder aside -- are mine.
A great big thanks to Lynlyn for always beta-reading these and keeping me enthusiastic with keeping this alive even through the extremely frustrating moments. She be my springboard for ideas!
Chapter 3:
Dreams are imitations of reality.
I am falling; falling so fast I can't even begin processing which way I'm actually headed, if I'm even falling at all. I know I am, because I can't determine where my gut's gone off, and it's been missing for the longest time now. But Floating is worse than falling, in a way. When you float, you have entirely too much time with too little distraction to think. Falling makes you brace, makes you try not to leave body parts behind, makes you anticipate or dread landing.
I don't know if I would rather fall or float. I think I'd rather do neither, really.
I land before my thoughts get anywhere; land so hard I don't know if I'm still breathing, if I'm still thinking at all. It's rather silly – the last time this happened in real life was when Wing had been in my general vicinity and invoking unholy fear upon me. Not a good thing to bring up.
My body does a sort of rebound, and I flail before I open my eyes to the alarm clock ringing shrilly near my ear. The same dream, the same nightmare. Falling for eternity and then landing with a sickening crack on a pile of bones in the middle of an unending black when I least expect it, only to wake up to another night of hunting and killing creatures who used to be human, on my bed in the church's basement. Sometimes, I don't know if I'm awake; sometimes, I wake up with extreme clarity that it's like nothing happened, like I can say I'm getting used to it.
The same feeling of disorientation. Every single day, since I turned a slayer some three years ago. If anything, at least I can be blank and logical about it now. When I was younger, I always woke up in a pair of arms whimpering my head off. Now I wake up to my alarm clock.
I count the ticking of my clock and get up at the fifty-ninth. Breathe, Kurapika, because it's the only thing you can do to keep your sanity intact. I listen to myself, and I breathe, and I count another fifty-nine before slipping off my bed. It creaks and protests, but three years has been long enough for me to know that it won't fall apart.
Silence keeps me company as I go about changing into my hunting clothes and washing myself clean. Great companion, silence.
It's five in the afternoon, an hour before the early vampire risers wake up. I have time to eat and be normal for an hour. Not bad.
There are no skeletons in my room when I survey it as I let myself out of the door. It's not black either, but a boring shade of brown and grey typical of basements in old almost-ruined churches. It makes me feel better about the things I can't change in life.
For a large group of Bitten half-breeds, the Geneiryodan are difficult to trace. It makes me wonder if I found Kuroro Lucifer because he wanted to be found, or wanted to find me. Interest in the slayer, huh.
None of the bars I frequent and usually rely on has any information on them. Foreigners pass through Yorkshin everyday and many of them stay for weeks on end, so it's difficult for me to get anything helpful. Leorio can't give me the files for the Geneiryodan yet, because of verification procedures, and until then, I'm on my own. I can't even get angry with Leorio because it's not his fault; even as an Apostle, there are still rules and superiors for him to follow.
I do the bar-hopping ritual and ask around my contacts about the Ryodan. Some manage to give me little leads, the kind that sends me running around the city investigating one thing or another, while some give me nothing at all.
I'm at a doubt if I can do anything if I find all of them anyway, though that doesn't stop me from trying. I need to scout, and scout I will. Kuroro Lucifer, as the leader, may not necessarily be the strongest member. A vampire's level of strength varies from how strong he had been as a human. Kuroro Lucifer was a member of the Meteor City nobility – surely there are other members stronger than a pampered, wealthy man?
The park where I met Kuroro is empty again. It's the same time as last night, so I don't really wonder, but I'm kind of disappointed that it's devoid of the weird leader. Through the dim light from the moon, I see that the bench where we first tussled has the puncture hole from my stake, and there are claw marks along the backrest. I wonder if I can be jailed for vandalism.
There's a scream, faint yet shrill at the same time. I tense and whip my blade out before realizing it isn't anywhere in my immediate vicinity. I swear all that thinking killed my brain and turned me into a complete moron. The scream sounds again, and I pause and close my eyes to figure out where it's coming from.
When I open my eyes, the cross of my own base glints at me.
Miss Mito! She must have been the one screaming! I break into a run, swerving through the shrubbery and dashing past low hanging branches. Is my base being attacked? I told Leorio it would be stupid if everyone had access to the information of where I live. Damn vampires are being bold!
It's dark, more so because of the trees looming around me, but I hardly give it any notice. Just a bit more, I'm more than halfway there. Mito screams again, and I put on more speed. I'm practically whizzing my way through the rough terrain, and her screams are louder the two times I hear them again before I get to the outer wall of the church.
The wall's pretty low, and I vault over it with no problem. There's another cry, but this one is cut off before it ends, and I skid my way around the corner to where I calculated the commotion is coming from.
"Mito!" She's slumped against the wall, unconscious. Leorio is somewhere near her feet, looking like a puppet someone threw on the ground with a lot of force. His temple is bleeding. The two kids Mito adopted several months back are trying to defend both of them from the attacker, a tall man wearing… pink.
"Aah! Kurapika!" Gon calls at me. He has Mito, Killua has Leorio. I launch myself at the trespasser.
We're tangled up in a flurry of movements, and if it not for my gifted instincts, he would have gutted me with his claws by now. He's a vampire, and by the manic glint in his eyes, I'm guessing he's a pureblood. I duck at another swipe for my head, and I lower down to a crouch to sweep his legs from under him. He lands on his hands and rebounds to somersault away from me.
"So you're the pretty little slayer the Dancho told us about." I stare at him as he brushes the dust from his pink pants. He talks. Clearly and conversationally. And even with that odd twang to his speech, there's no doubt in my head that he's not a pureblood after all.
"Geneiryodan," I hiss, withdrawing a stake from my pocket. This Dancho he mentioned must be Kuroro Lucifer. The vampire grins at me, and I have to admit that the thin but long smile is creepy. The four people I live with are behind me, and I can feel Gon and Killua trying to drag Mito and Leorio away. I need to stall, before the madman decides to make a pounce for them. He's giving them a wicked smile, and I practically growl at him. I don't care if he eats all the people in Yorkshin, as long as he doesn't touch the people I live with if just to piss me off.
Bloody bastard continues to keep that expression on anyway, and I hear Gon 'meep!' behind me. They're nearly at the backdoor of the church, and I'm doing a one-man flank for them, but I hope they get inside soon. I suppose I should tell Leorio to quit the carbohydrates, if Killua can't pull him in that easily.
The intruder's moved, nearly a blur of fuzzy pink as he pounces on the kids. He's fast, and I move to keep up with him. I dash past him to block and intercept his charge, my hand shooting out to end it with just one well-placed stab with my stake. He's disappeared, and I hit nothing but air. My hair ruffles as I duck and his leg passes above me in a powerful roundhouse kick from behind that would have decapitated me.
The door to the church shuts, and I smile thinly as I jump back and land on a crouch facing him. The guy licks his lips and makes his way to me slowly.
He giggles, and I growl.
"Kurapika, was it?"
"Who are you?"
"Hisoka, the world's greatest magician." I can practically see the hearts and musical notes accompanying his deranged introduction. I raise my eyebrows, and he laughs. And then he's gone again.
There's a whisper of wind past my temple, and I jerk back just in time to avoid Hisoka's claws gorging my eye out. A cut forms beside my eye, and a cut forms on his pink top courtesy of my stake. Explosive clashes, long lulls – I hate this kind of fight. We circle each other, and the blood from my wound trails down my cheeks to my lips. I lick it away, and this shiver runs up my spine at the metallic taste.
He giggles again, and then goes in for another attack. This one lasts longer – he hits me with solid punches that I swear I'll be feeling for days, and I give him more cuts from my stake. We exchange more of this alternately, like a perverse sort of dance. Vaguely, I wonder how I'd fare against Kuroro.
An opening, and I'm on it even before my brain's processed what I've observed. I run him through with my stake.
Or what I thought had been the so-called magician. My hand goes through air, and the next thing I know my body's doing the same thing and I'm skidding across the ground on my side while my ribs scream at me. It's sort of instinctive; I roll over and let the momentum carry me to a crouching position, the stake poised in front of me and my other hand clutched at my side.
… Ow. I think my rib's fractured. Nothing too big, just enough to cause me a hell lot of pain. He laughs at my expression of disbelief, and I idly lick my blood off the corner of my mouth.
Hisoka's sauntering over to me again, and I rise to my feet despite the lance of protest up my side. There's blood in my eye, and I blink it off. Bad move, it creeps in even deeper, and my eye stings. I give up and close it, and focus on him with my good one.
He makes his attack, and I shield and dodge as much of his offenses as I can. I feel my arm nearly break as I block him when he jumps up and kicks downward at me, but I retaliate with my standard slayer weapon. Hisoka catches my wrist with my hand, slides up, and practically slips the stake from my grasp. What the--? A blur of movement I can't even follow, and I'm against the low wall with his hand pinning me up from the ground by the neck.
Well, shit.
I can't breathe. I have to breathe. Clawing at his arms isn't doing me any good. Where's the sta—right, he has it. Kick him, Kurapika, use your legs, like that, yes! No, OW he twisted it that goddamned bastard. I need to breathe, then I'm going to turn him to ashes, but after I breathe first. His claws hurt my neck too. It's itchy, is that blood tickling my neck?
Blood. My vampire side is urging me to drink. If he doesn't let me go right now I swear I will, and then we'll see how he likes me spitting hell on his face. But my human side is larger and therefore just this much more significant, and humans need air.
I can't see him too well. Everything's either red or grey, and I think my eye stings. Can't really feel anything but this burning in my lungs, and I struggle even more. I wish he'll shut up and stop talking and laughing since I can't understand him anyway—Air! He's dropped me! I can breathe!
I choke on air as I suck in oxygen, and I instinctively scramble away from the madman. Breathe, and then I'll kill him.
Then I freeze. Someone else is here.
It's a female, talking to Hisoka and admonishing him for going after me when the Dancho explicitly said no. Another Geneiryodan? I glare balefully up at them, but my vision's still speckled from my two-minute lack of air, so I don't really manage to hold out too long. Sad.
I have my stake out again, but they can't see it. I think I'll surprise them when they go near me. For now, I'll be happy with massaging my neck and breathing. And listening to them, that should be useful.
"—as much as I would like to see him dead, I agree with Dancho. Go back now. Half the night has passed, and you look like you haven't eaten yet." I feel my eyebrow twitch at the implication that Kuroro has plans for me. That's never good.
"Ah, Machi, I still want to finish my fun. Can't I drink from Kurapika inste—"
"Hisoka."
"Hmmm. All right, as you wish, I'll leave the pretty little slayer alone. His blood tastes good, though. You should try it out."
My blood? When did he…? I look down at my hand, the one I was massaging my neck with. Right, he poked holes in my neck. Can he tell I'm… not entirely normal by the taste of the blood?
"I'd rather not." The Machi girl sniffs in disdain, and I feel insulted. Not that I want them to have me for dinner, but the way she said it implied that I'm not even worth considering.
"Ah, but you'll find something interesting out. I should go and tell Dancho now."
This is bad. He knows. I jump up from my crouch and attack him, but he's fast and he leaps out of my reach just as the girl grabs me by the wrist in a grip akin to a pitbull's bite. Her claws dig through the skin, and I feel more blood trickle out. I change my course and try to stab her with the stake, but Hisoka beats me to it and grabs my other arm.
"Don't test your luck, slayer," she hisses at me, practically spitting the word slayer out as if it completely disgusts her. I attempt to kick her along the waist, but she blocks it with her free hand and twists it the same way Hisoka did earlier. Same leg. My brain probably died when Hisoka tried to separate me from my lungs for me to commit the same mistake twice in less than five minutes.
"Machi," he whines. She glares at him then reaches for my bloody wrist. I struggle, I really do, but she easily dips her finger to my blood and licks it. Her eyes widen a notch, and I feel my stomach sink. I can't let them go, but I can't even free myself. Pathetic, Kurapika.
"Let's go, Hisoka. Dancho will want to know about this."
They throw me down to the ground, and are gone when I turn around to snarl at them some. But no, that doesn't stop me, and I immediately start running after them. They said they were going to eat or tell their Leader. I can't let them do either; the first for obvious reasons, and the second because Kuroro would know just what being a fellow half-vampire would mean.
This is Wing's fault, I tell myself, and feel petulantly embarrassed for the thought. It's a nice change from scatter-brained panic. But in a way, it is his fault. He was the one who triggered my Born half-vampire blood, he was the one who converted Kuroro Lucifer's father into a Bitten half-vampire, and he was the one who let the late Lucifer make fellow Bitten as he pleased. What I wouldn't do to kill him.
But I digress. My main problem now is that the two members of the Ryodan who has information on my breeding are gone, and probably on their merry way to tell the rest of their members. My left knee hurts from all the manhandling they did to it, and I'm sore and bleeding all over, but I can't really afford to stop and make sure I'm not falling apart. Ridiculous thought.
I can't find them. They can't have gone to commercial Yorkshin, can they? But then, they can blend in with minimal effort. I should go back to see how Leorio and the others are doing, but I have to stop the two half-vampires from blabbing my secret to Kuroro. I'm in a difficult situation.
The road ahead of me is empty of bloodsuckers, and I veer off to another street, this one in the direction heading for commercial Yorkshin. No one will be out here in this area this late at night, unlike commercial Yorkshin. I should have figured that out earlier.
Someone screams. Déjà vu. I skid to a halt and listen as another one, a female this time, screeches for help. It's not the help-there's-a-criminal-here scream. It's the I'm-going-to-die one, and I quickly make my way to them. There's a distinct difference between the two, something I learned to be able to tell early in my career as a slayer.
The woman's stopped screaming, but the man's still generating noise enough for me to pinpoint the direction where the sound is coming from. I turn at the corner and see three people under a streetlamp. One's a woman prone on the ground, and the two men look like they're locked in a passionate kiss. They would have looked it, anyway, if the man wasn't twitching as the vampire sucked the life out of him.
It's not Hisoka. It's just another pureblood looking for sustenance, and this time I am sure of it – pasty features and a nearly rabid way of eating. I watch on impassively as the vampire finishes and drops the man on top of the woman, and then make my appearance. He snarls.
"You have just been caught violating the Trinity's Code against Dark Kin interacting with humans, and therefore shall be executed," I tell him. I normally feel silly for it, but this time, I'm too agitated about losing the pair from the Geneiryodan to feel even remotely alarmed that the vampire is charging at me.
I sidestep him, and kick him at the back of the spine, sending him sprawling face first on the concrete. He's like most of the other purebloods – impulsive and probably a Nobody before he got converted. I catch him with a stake to his heart as he launches himself at me again, and he twitches as he explodes into dust.
There's hardly any wind, and the ashes scatter messily around me. Some even sticks to the parts of my skin and clothes that has blood on it, but I ignore the bits and pieces of body to check if any of the victims are still alive. Thankfully, they aren't. I don't think I can handle any new purebloods rearing up on me at the moment. Or rather, they probably won't be able to handle me.
If Mito knew that I actually kill surviving victims, she'd probably cry her eyes out. I can't help it, really. They'll survive, sure, but then they'll turn into vampires after a couple of days. It's like rabies, only instead of killing a person, it changes him to a vampire too. And there's no vaccination, only death.
In a way, that's the reason why half-breeds are also cursed. The Bitten are stuck as they are for until they get killed, but they're too smart to die. The Born get used to being whole, but then the vampire blood surfaces, and then life becomes hell. If they want to be whole again, they'll have to turn to a pureblood.
It's kind of fortunate, in a way, that half-breeds are rare. I wouldn't wish it even on my worst enemy. Or second worst enemy, anyway. Wing has already gone through it all.
The woman's glassy eyes are staring at me. I pat it close, and rise to my feet.
There's nothing I can do anymore. The pair from the Geneiryodan is gone, and at the rate I'm limping, it may take me a long while to even see any of them again. Funny, when did the pain catch up to me?
I have to check if Leorio and Mito are fine, as well as have someone see my injuries. It's nothing that won't heal in a few days, but Leorio insists I'm more human than anything else and should never take injuries lightly. It's unnecessary concern, but Leorio means well, and he knows what he's talking about as an Apostle. My limp is a bit too pronounced as I sidestep the small pile of ashes and the corpses.
Vampires make a mess wherever they go. Purebloods don't have much when it comes to eating and dying habits. I don't know about half-breeds, though, because I haven't actually killed one yet. I can't very well kill myself just to try, and I never thought to ask. I have a feeling that I won't like the answer, though. The wind carries the ashes, and I get bits on my face.
My mind is a blank as I walk back to the church. Someone new is dead by my hands. It won't bode well for my dreams.
Another skeleton to land on, another meter to add to the distance of my fall.
4:15 PM 6/25/2005
Comments and Criticisms are more than welcome. XD