Warnings: Explicit usage of language. Specific mentions of violence (like seriously, if this will make you uncomfortable or trigger you in anyway skip to the second part.)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything involving the Star Wars Universe other than a POP Poe figurine. All characters belong to their creators. Seraphine and other OCs are my personal characters unless otherwise mentioned.
Author's Note: Well this was an interesting chapter to write. Explains a little more about how Seraphine got out of that sticky situation she found herself in a few chapters back. As always, your support is greatly appreciated and I get so excited when I see reviews. And reviews mean motivation so, *wink*. :)
Songs of the Chapter: Welcome to the Black Parade - My Chemical Romance (middle school flashbacks anyone?) and Fortunate Son - Creedence Clearwater Revival
Chapter Sixteen - They Were Made to Die, and She Needed to Live
She could hear the cheers from outside the ship. She could hear the cheers and the celebration as she sat there with no desire to celebrate. She could hear the cheers as she sat there, her mind lost in the darkness and her thoughts and the emotions she did not want to be feeling. She didn't want to be feeling this. She didn't want to be feeling any of this. She was normally able to push it down, to push it down and move on. She had trained herself to not feel pain but right now so much was boiling up to the surface she just didn't know what do with herself.
She looked down at the stormtrooper helmet she was clutching. She didn't know why she was still clutching it, or why she still had it. But as she stared at the blood splatter on it, her mind flashed back to when she slammed her knife into his throat.
She had never seen blood spatter onto the snow before. It was almost beautiful as it bounced, the contrast bringing out both the red and the white. But then all of the snow was red, or at least pink as the blood began to mix all around her.
He had crumpled. He twitched as the blood sprayed onto her, he died within seconds. He was taking his final breaths and she had already moved on, killing one of the others that stood in her path. Her armour was black, their armour was white. Her's hide the blood a whole lot better, the blood was striking against their white armour, the contrast the same as on the snow. Who thought putting them in white was a good idea?
There was so much blood. There had been so much blood. Knives were messy, it was why she didn't like using them. Knives were so messy and the blood went everywhere. There had been so much blood, there had just been so much blood.
She lived and they all died. Died doing what they were created to do, die. To fight and to die, that was their purpose, their cause, all that they were meant to be. Fight, die, and kill. If she hadn't been lucky enough to escape she would still be on Talali. Still trapped, still living a life of pain and misery, but she was living a life of misery of her own creation. And she would take than any day than being born to fight, die and kill.
She had been created to be a doll, to be a play thing, to look pretty. But she had learned to fight. She had learned to kill. She had learned how to survive. And she was damn good at it. But she didn't like it. She hated it. She hated what she had become.
She never really had a chance. She wasn't a fortunate one.
She looked at the blood she had gotten all over the ship. Her hands were physically clean, her gloves she had discarded insured that, but they weren't in her head. In her head she could see all the blood dripping off of them, as it slowly fell from her knife and onto the snow. There had been so much blood.
It had dried onto her armour. The deep red greatly contrasting the black, catching the light as if it was some decoration or some medal. But it wasn't a decoration, it was a reminder of what she had done. And she sure as hell didn't deserve a metal for this shit. She never understand why they gave medals for killing people. It was some backwards attempt to make it all better, to make it seem like they were good, that they deserved it, that all of the nightmares would just go away.
She could still see it, not even just when she closed her eyes. She could still see it, like they were standing there directly in front of her. She could still see them. Them and all of their blood.
There were twenty of them.
And she was only one.
But they were made to die.
And she needed to live.
She had killed people before. She had gotten to the point where it wasn't even hard anymore. She tried to avoid it, even when she did everything she could to avoid it, people still ended up dead. She hated death. She hated how permanent it was. She hated death.
But she wasn't a stranger to it.
She had killed her first person when she was only two months out on her own. She had run away, run away from everything, and found herself in an awful situation with a greasy man's hand up her skirt. She did everything she could to get away and hit him over the head with the only thing she could get her hands on. She still remembered how the blood began to pool, how it spread as if it was reaching out to her, trying to drag her down as well. She remembered his wife screamed and she remembered how she ran. She ran and ran and ran until she couldn't feel her legs anymore. She ran until she couldn't run and then she ran some more.
But she needed to live.
She never made that mistake again. She learned how to fight, she learned everything she could. She met so many people and learned so many things, taking what they taught her to create what she wanted. And she strapped knives everywhere she could on her body. She would never be caught of guard again. Most girls weren't so lucky. Most of them weren't given a second chance. She was lucky.
She needed to survive. And she would do anything that was needed in order too.
She had killed for the job.
She had killed for revenge.
She had killed because she needed to.
It was a fact of life in the world she had found herself living in. Every man and women for themselves, it doesn't matter what happened to anyone else. Do what you need to do in order to make it back, get paid and then do it all over again.
She had killed so many people.
But she had never enjoyed it.
When she thought back she could see it almost like it was a film, watching the knives slice at everything she could get her hands on. Cutting through the weak spots in their armour, weak spots she had memorized, weak spots she had trained to attack. She dodge all of the blaster blasts, moving so they would hit each other. After a few were taken out by friendly fire they had gotten smart and stopped shooting, attempting to take her out in any way. She had killed them. She had killed every last one.
She remembered the snow, she remembered the cold, she remembered the blood. She remembered every move she made, every sound of death that escaped the stormtroopers lips, she remembered it all. She remembered it all so vividly, like she was still there, she was reliving it again and again. But there was one part that was almost a dream, that she couldn't quite remember. She could almost hear laughing.
A twisted sick laughing, a laughing that chilled her to the chore. The laugher of a monster, the laughter of someone lost to the world.
Had she been laughing?
Had she enjoyed it?
She couldn't remember, she couldn't remember.
She could remember what she had done, but she could remember if she had enjoyed it.
She couldn't believe what she had become.
She was a monster.
She had killed them. She had killed all of them.
They were born to die, but they died at her hand.
But she lived. She survived. She was still here. And she was still fighting.
But she wasn't a fortunate one.
And she had never been.
This was the life for her.
And she needed to accept it.
(on the base)
Poe jumped off of the ladder on his X-Wing, and was quickly surrounded by his celebrating men cheering. He had done it. He had saved them. He had saved them all. He didn't know how, but he had done it!
He watched as the Falcon landed and ran over with the others to greatly the landing party. Chewy quickly came out carrying a figure, and his stomach sank. The figure was quickly taken by one of the medical teams.
As he ran beside them, he felt guilty and hated himself. It was Finn, Finn was his friend and he was worried for him but he had been almost glad when he saw it was him. He wasn't glad that it was Finn, he wasn't, he was just glad that it wasn't her. That it wasn't Seraphine. Speaking off, he glanced back at the ship.
"Take care of him." He warned the medics and slowed to a stop walking back to the ship. Where was she? Why hadn't she come of the ship yet? She was on the ship right? He could feel her heartbeat. Or could he, was he just imagining it? She had to be alive. She had to be.
He watched as the General and a women he had to assume was Rey embraced, sharing a solemn moment in the celebration. He pushed his way through the crowd responding to the congratulations and forcing a smile onto his face. He was happy, he really was. He was overjoyed. But right now he just wanted to see her.
He didn't understand it. He had barely known her. It had only been a few days but he felt like he had known her forever. That he had been meant to know her his whole life, like everything that happened to him everything he had done had all been to meet her. Like destiny had brought them together and destiny wasn't even something he believed in. That everything he had gone through didn't matter, that all of the suffering and all of the pain didn't matter, none of it mattered because he had her now and that was all he needed. He couldn't understand it, he couldn't explain it, but he knew it was true.
There was something different about her, there was something special about her. And he needed to see her. Where was she?
Slowly a figure appeared, trailing out the Falcon. The cheering slowly came to a stop as everyone watched her and she just stared at them. She was covered in blood. It was smeared everywhere, it was like every inch of her was covered with it.
She was alive. But her eyes didn't look like it. Her makeup was smeared, the blue streaks on her faces streaking as it mixed with the blood spattered onto her face. She looked like she had fought a whole war all by herself. Her shoulders were held high but her eyes looked dead.
She looked like a soldier.
Something Poe never wanted for her.
She deserved to live a better life than the one he did.
The General slowly pulled out of her hug with Rey and looked at her, slowly reaching out and gasping, "Seraphine."
Seraphine simply turned and looked at her adoptive mother, her expression not changing. "It's not mine." She slowly replied, holding up the stormtrooper helmet she was still clutching. She looked away and began to walk into the crowd, who quickly forgot about her, their hope returned. They had lived, they were here to fight another day and they had won against the First Order. They had defeated Star Killer Base, they had done it. They had plenty of reasons to celebrate.
Poe attempted to follow her, but lost her the crowd. There were just so many people and in one second she was there and in one second she was gone.
Author's Note: Sorry, sorry. That was a short chapter I know, I know. But it was too long to include in the next one and I just wanted to get something out there. So yah, I hope you guys still enjoyed it. Things will start to look up for Seraphine and Poe even if it just for a few moments. As always, your reviews mean the most to me and are greatly appreciated. Lots of love, M.
Sneak Peek into Chapter Seventeen
He couldn't find her anywhere. He had searched everywhere he could think off, and no one had seen her. No one had any idea where she was.
He had assumed she went to her ship. It was still docked on one of the corners of the landing pad, tucked out of the way and almost out of sight. It meant she was still here, she was still here somewhere. He had assumed she went to her ship and so he went there first. Talked for like five whole minutes before he gave up, figuring she wasn't there. Or if she was, she must really not want to talk to him.
And then he searched. He went everywhere he could think of, the training rooms, the meal hall, the hanger deck, the medical bay. There were just way too many places to hide on the base.
So now he sat beside Finn in the medical bay, his mind reeling. So much had happened and he just didn't know what to do. Everyone was out celebrating, but he didn't feel like it. He didn't feel like doing anything. He just wanted to go to sleep. When was the last time he had? It felt like at least a few years but it easily could be a few days. He just wanted to sleep. But when he slept his defences went down and he couldn't trust his own mind. He just wanted to sleep.
But he needed to find her.