AUTHORS NOTE: I don't own any part of the Bayonetta franchise. Platinum Games do
"Well, we are here, Nun-lady." Her escort announced, wheezing. "The second half of the graveyard."
Her thoughts were elsewhere, and not on the task that lay ahead.
Being a witch certainly wasn't easy.
Sure, it had some great benefits, like looking ageless, being functionally immortal, the nearly limitless power and the ability to summon infernal demons like a mortal would summon blood for those particular areas of procreation.
The downside was that said demons were always looking for a single moment of lapsed concentration to drag your soul back down to Inferno, mortal weapons couldn't handle your power, the sex was mostly horrible and pointless, and no one could bloody see the kick-ass manoeuvres that you were dishing out to angels to sate your various demon's eternal thirst. Such a thing was only ever slated for an audience of one, and that audience member had seen much more artistic performances elsewhere.
Bayonetta, however, simply didn't give enough of a fuck to care about the downsides. The power she had obtained from being a witch was enough to sate her desires and her freedoms. Only if she truly knew how she had got these powers in the first place…
But that was neither here or there. Currently she was grave robbing for a corpse. A special, unique corpse. Well, it wasn't a corpse, as the person wasn't really dead, but then again, what do you call someone who sleeps in a graveyard?
Her white outfit, a typical nun's outfit she had borrowed from the church she worked at, was covered in dirt and sweat, and her round glasses irritated her nose. She really wanted to find this corpse fast, and not a minute over schedule. Not for what she wanted the corpse for, but just to simply go back to her hotel room and have a long, warm bath. Her eyes closed slightly as she imagined the soothing waters, then opened as she returned her concentration back to the task ahead of her.
"Ya know, some of these fuckers must be some famous fucks somewhere." A short, fat and seedy-looking man began from behind her. "I mean, we've already dug up poor Robotnik. There's gotta be someone else here that's like him."
She decided to finally start ignoring him as she tried to find the correct grave and/or casket. One half of the graveyard was already sifted through, and the second half lay looming ahead of them. She already had a suspicion that it was the one that was put out into the open. But that was obviously a trap, and as a former accomplice had once said; 'It never did not pay to be careful'.
"I mean, Robotnik was old, crazy and got beaten up by some fuckin' small blue mammal over some fancy pieces of jewellery. I mean, they are pretty to look at, but they ain't got shit on diamonds, believe me." The man was, in fact, talking again. "And I know my diamonds, grave robbed a few of them in my life time, believe me."
The man walked up beside her. "And who are we looking for anyway? And what is a nun like you trying to grave rob these fuckers? I thought you all were above earthly possessions and all that shit."
"I'm looking for Rodin." She answered neutrally, ignoring most of the questions. Her disguise was working like a charm. He quite obviously didn't recognise her from the nunnery she worked at, or the countless deals she had done with him as her normal, charming self.
"The black, bald and buff motherfucker?" The man raised his eyebrows, and shades, at that. "He died like last week. I was at the funeral today as well. He was a shady one, I tell ya, he always wanted me to do hands on stuff! Fuhgeddaboudit, old Enzo here never does anything with his hands if he can help it!"
Bayonetta stared coolly at Enzo as the former finished his rant. The man at least had the grace, or the sense, to be embarrassed.
"He is in that one there." He pointed to the coffin currently sitting out in the open. Bayonetta cursed at the lost time and made her way over to it. Pulling out a bible, she turned to a random page and began to whisper incantations under her breathe.
"Praying for the fucker? Man, the guy doesn't deserve any prayers in my opinion. But that's my take on it. You do you, Ms Nun."
Enzo finally fell silent as he realised that Bayonetta was pointedly ignoring him. He muttered something under his breathe, then turned around to relieve himself on a tombstone.
…
Enzo returned to reality a couple of minutes later as he leaned over her shoulder to try to read with her.
"Hey! What are you even doing?" He recognised the passage that the Nun was reading. "I'm no religious man, believe me, but that chapter is the one where God destroys humanity for the first time. Ain't a prayer for the dead, if you ask me."
The Nun smiled. "Just a little party trick."
And with that the lid of the coffin burst off and the man contained within seemed to float out, like an angel. He was bald, dark-skinned and muscular, just like Enzo remembered. The brown coat, black pants and dark sunglasses adorned him, just like they had in life.
"R-R-Rodin?!" He stumbled backwards and fell to the ground in shock. Rodin was dead! He had seen his corpse this morning! What the fu-
"Hey! Ms Nun! Where did you go!?" He couldn't find the reason he had been hired in the first place. The graveyard seemed brighter, as if some force was illuminating it.
"Hey Enzo; long time, no see." Rodin smiled cruelly. "And as for Bayonetta, she's doing some housework before the real party begins."
"Bayonetta?" Enzo's face went pale. "She's here?"
Climbing back to his feet in a rush, he turned and sprinted out of the graveyard, heading back to the carpark.
"She's gonna destroy the motherfuckin' car again!" He screamed. "I just got it paid off as well..."
Rodin grinned at the panicking and retreating mortal, and then tossed some guns at a seemingly random spot in the graveyard. A small, purple coloured portal opened, and the four weapons disappeared.
"I hope you have practiced your part." He smiled as he clicked his thumb, setting it and the cigar above it alight. "Because this is going to be a long show."
…
It had been such a long time since Bayonetta had felt such ecstasy, such feeling, such pleasure…
Her body writhed and turned, following movements she herself found utterly natural despite not knowing how she had learnt them. Her Nun disguise lay on the ground in tatters, and her hair covered her modesty, weaving itself around her into a black, skin-tight uniform. It covered her body, except for most of her upper back and her chest, showing a small window of cleavage. The white gloves from her nun outfit remained on her arms, and two sleeves extended from her elbows, flapping in the air as she moved. Her hair was done up, beehive style, held together by two long, red ribbons, giving her a look that screamed sex and sleekness. Utilising techniques she didn't remember learning, she fought against her opponents with lethality.
None stood a chance of course.
"Didn't your bosses learn from last time?" She asked a random angel, who paused in surprise in realising she was talking to it. "If you want to play with me properly, you need to send the right toys so I can play without breaking you."
Throwing her broken gun through its head, killing it, she sneered in disgust. "And it looks like I need the right toys as well."
Pulling herself out of Purgatorio briefly, she found Rodin punching any angels that came close to him, his cigar held aloft.
"More guns!" She demanded, and he obliged, tossing her four black and white handguns. Letting them pass into Purgatorio, she felt how different they were to the last pair almost instantaneously. They were somehow worse.
"Eww, Rodin should be paying me to use these." She reflected to herself as she punched through another angel, shattering the gun instantly. "These toys wouldn't satisfy anything."
"Hey, if you don't have the materials…" Rodin slammed another angel into the ground, causing Enzo to fall over again. "You have to make do with mortal weapons."
"These mortal toys are so baaaad." She whined, shattering the other on the weapon of another angel. "Guns!"
No more were tossed to her. Shoving an angel that was too close for her comfort away, she turned with a baleful eye to Rodin. "Rodin…"
He smiled and shrugged. "You broke em all. Sorry."
Rolling her eyes, she turned on her heel. "Looks like I have to this the old-fashioned way. TELOC VOVIM!"
She began to move sensually, letting her Umbran power flow through her. The closer angels realised what she was doing and began to back off, whereas the further ones thought this was an opportunity to strike and began to close in, causing the two opposing angelic lines to crash into each other, lumping themselves into a perfect group. Bayonetta braced herself as her hair left her body and spiralled upwards into a small portal. A massive portal opened behind the angels, and a massive, demonic centipede made of her hair came crawling out ferociously into the pack of angels. Its maw opened wide and lunged through.
Within seconds, they were all dead. After the summoned Infernal was sent back to Inferno, Bayonetta turned to the sound of clapping.
"Looks like you still got the moves." Rodin turned, his features betraying the small smile from the rush of battle. "But you owe me some for faking the funeral, smuggling in the weapons and my newest baby. Treat it well."
He gave her a small black bracelet containing an orange jewel, something he had named the Bracelet of Time. Rodin had sold its abilities on her, as it had the power to focus her temporal abilities inherent to an Umbran to slow time on command, and she requested he bring it to her. After months of him creating it, they decided that he would make the trade in the mortal realm, using Bayonetta as a lure to summon angels for the halos Rodin so desperately desired. She didn't know why, she didn't care why; all she cared about was whether she got the damn thing or not.
"Take all the halos from here and me." She turned around, trying to find Enzo. "I really don't have any use for them."
Rodin shrugged, and held his hand out. The nearby golden rings began to float towards him, and he shuddered as they passed into him.
"Never can get used to that." He reflected to himself. Returning his attention to the witch, he spoke neutrally. "You might want to head somewhere else, just in case Paradiso does decide to send something big at you."
Bayonetta turned and pouted. "You're going to stop me from playing with them?"
Rodin laughed. "Only if you have a death wish. I'll be in the Gates of Hell if you need me."
And with that, he disappeared into the ground as red fire marked his exit. Bayonetta thought about rejecting his advice to leave, but as she continued on that train of thought, she realised both the merits and demerits of the situation, and that the demerits did outweigh the merits.
"Oh bother." She said to herself as she stepped back into the mortal realm. "Looks like I need a driver."
She found Enzo back at the car they had both arrived in.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me…" She heard him repeating to himself, and she almost giggled when she saw the almost-wreck his car was.
…
Bayonetta reflected to herself as she tuned out Enzo's ramblings for probably the 6th time that day, as the pair drove through the city of San Andreas. She had been awakened by some force about twenty years ago, from a casket at the bottom of a lake just outside of a town inside of the country called Vigrid. Almost immediately after she had seen a mortal man torn to pieces in front of her, and then her first encounter with angels.
She didn't know what did cause the man's death, but she had a sinking feeling she had caused it either directly or as a by-product of her waking up. She had no memories, only instincts and what she could only describe as natural to her. The only thing with her was a strange red stone encased in an ancient watch and a tube of ancient lipstick bearing the names Balder and Rosa. After retreating and finally escaping the angel's wrath, she discovered her abilities one by one: being able to switch between two dimensions at will, almost limitless strength, her ability to summon demonic hair constructs and the ability to slow time down.
Years of research had led her to believe she was an Umbra witch, and a former member of said ancient clan of witches in Europe thousands of years ago. Apparently, they had all died out in a global witch hunt event five hundred years ago bought on by the mistrust of mortals of the various Umbran arts and the fact many were now accepting the word of God.
Well, all of them were dead with the obvious exception of her. How she survived, she did not know. Nor did she care all that much, if she was being honest.
Nothing survived of their teachings, history or anything; the only records left was the mythos surrounding them, and the legends that passed down each generation as fairy tales or stories. Suitably miffed, she decided to choose a name for herself, one that both combined European and the few existing Umbran names she did know; Bayonetta. A name derived from the word Bayonet; a fixture attached to the barrel of a gun. Rodin had agreed with it instantly, claiming it suited her perfectly. She couldn't agree less.
The last sole survivor, with amnesia. What a cliché that was.
"… I mean, its obvious yer no fucking Nun. So, what the fuck was all that back there?" She broke out of her thoughts to hear Enzo ask his first question. "You're a thief and espionage expert, not a goddamn holy figure that can disappear at will!"
"Ok, little Enzo, it's about time you learned the rules about me." She turned to him. "Rule number one: I don't kiss and tell. Rule number two: I ask and pay you, not the other way around. Rule number three…" She petered off as she felt something off in the air.
"Rule number three? The fact you can't remember the fucking thing means you probably- OH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
A plane, or more specifically a mortal Boeing 747, was hurtling towards the pair. Smiling to herself, Bayonetta realised she was going to get to play some more before the day was up. Standing up in the convertible, she quickly released a time stop spell to slow down the plane to almost a complete halt, along with everything in the immediate area. Stepping to the outside, she grabbed the car and threw it. along with poor Enzo, well above the path of the plane, to ride after she was finished with this problem.
Jumping onto the plane, she saw her suspicions were correct; it was crawling with angels.
"Hello boys." She greeted with a smile. "Why don't you play with someone your own size? This toy is far too large for any of you to use, so you might as well have a go with me, hm?"
They responded with a hiss and screamed back at her, an obvious challenge. Bayonetta readied her magic and began to think about her infernal summons, and then paused as an unfamiliar, yet familiar feeling washed through her.
Luckily for her, whatever she had sensed the angels had sensed too. They growled to her left as someone landed beside her.
"Just like old times." A voice said to the right of her. "Although, it seems you've changed, Cereza; you seem far more confident about yourself now. Shall we dance then?"
Being very careful to not let her surprise show, Bayonetta turned to face the newcomer.
She was dressed in red, a tight-fitting top with loose-ish pants. Strange guns adorned her heels, like Bayonetta did when she had some, and a pair was enclosed in her hands. Her blonde-silver hair enclosed her head in a small pixie cut, and a warm, welcoming smile adorned her face.
This person knew her, and she was probably an Umbran witch, judging from the similarities. And the fact she was moving during witchtime.
"I'm sorry, just who are you?" Bayonetta shot back, her eyes narrowing. "I don't remember ever making your acquaintance, and I would never forget a face like yours."
That question and statement hit the newcomer like a tonne of bricks. The smile disappeared from her face, confusion replaced it and anger finalized on it. Making an annoyed grunt, she turned away and launched herself at the angels. She fought with ferocity and anger, and Bayonetta realised that it was eerily like hers, just a lot less flourish-filled. Observing her for a moment, she followed suite and joined the fray.
They made short work of the angels together. None stood a chance to Bayonetta, and the newcomer was just diminishing returns. They stood, staring at each other, neither sure on how to act. The woman in red seemed to be studying her, and Bayonetta in turn was unsure on how to approach the elephant in the room.
She was the first to break the silence, turning to the plane beneath her with a frown. "We aren't moving."
"Of course we aren't; I cast a time spell-" Bayonetta realised that it had worn off a few minutes before. The plane was floating in real time, and she could see the confused faces of the mortals outside of Purgatorio both staring at the plane in fear, astonishment and reverence. "This is new... Are you doing this?"
The plane began to lower with both women on it. Turning to face the road that didn't get destroyed, both were surprised to see a figure with one arm stretched out. It was wearing what looked like rags, and they covered its entire body from view. A strange lump was affixed to its back, making it appear extremely top-heavy. From the power she could sense expelling from the figure, Bayonetta figured that this was who was lowering the plane. The woman to the left of her hissed, as if she recognised the person, and prepared to launch herself at them. Unfortunately for her, the figure had accomplished their task.
As it hit the ground with a dampened crash, the figure lowered its arm and sagged slightly. The impact staggered the pair of witches, but both recovered gracefully. Bayonetta could feel the figures eyes scrutinizing both her and the other woman, and she felt a strong urge to turn away in shame. But as soon as it appeared, it left. The figure turned away and ran, running faster than most mortals and on a pace that Bayonetta would have slight trouble maintaining.
"Is that an old friend of yours?" Bayonetta turned, but no one was there. Shrugging, she leaped off the plane, grabbed the car and the screaming Enzo and tossed them back down onto the road, ready to continue her journey.
…
The day's events stuck with Bayonetta long into the night. After reconnecting with Enzo, and enduring yet another rant, she had discovered that he knew of some auction in the black market for a stone that glowed blue, something awfully like the one contained within her watch. It was traced back to the Ithavoll IT company, the main power in Vigrid and the place of worship for all things Angelic. So, she was going back to Vigrid tomorrow, to find out about this rock and, if all things went well, it could connect her to her past. Her thoughts, however, remained on the woman in red.
She knew her, and it annoyed Bayonetta to no end that she had inadvertently pissed her off and pushed her away. By her opening words, she deduced that they must have been close, perhaps closer than most friends. She was very interested in meeting her again; perhaps she could provide a clue for her identity, but her reaction to her amnesia did not bode well for her to be reasonable. Pushing her sheets to the side, she sat up and turned to sit on the side of the bed. The chilly air helped her body relax, and she let the moonlight gleam off it. Even though it was bright and made it difficult to fall asleep, the moon had always soothed her.
The life of a witch was tiring, and sometimes mortal pleasures did help her relax. The companion she had chosen was satisfying to her primal desires , but as like all the mortals, never really fulfilled her.
Then her head swam as images fought their way to the forefront of her mind. New, unfamiliar ones:
An arena surrounded by cells, as her and the women in red fought to the death…
A falling clocktower, the woman in red standing by her side as they endlessly fought angels…
A torso shaped figure breaking down a citadel's walls, a four-legged monstrosity launching missiles after it, mortals rushing in after, pitchforks and torches blazing…
A voice crying in anger as she felt her body turn numb as she cradled a body in her arms…
A sharp pain in her chest as something punctured her chest…
With a gasp, she snapped back to reality. Shaking her head of her thoughts, she tried to understand the significance of what she had seen. Memories? It was very possible.
"Babe? You alright?" The male prostitute behind her asked sleepily. Bayonetta straightened herself, cleared her exterior of anything weak or negative, and turned and smiled.
"I'm alright, my dear. It was nothing."
"Are you sure?" The man pulled himself up. "It looks like you have something on your mind."
"I'm paying you for physical pleasure, not therapy." She pushed him back down, her augmented strength beating out his resistance easily. "Now, shut up and hold me."
Falling back into the bed and into the arms of the stranger, she wondered what tomorrow would bring. But for now, she was content with the present. And certainly not worried about the past.
…
The figure in rags stopped to rest. Breathing heavily, they looked being them, trying to see if she was chasing him. Seeing nothing, he collapsed onto the wall, satisfied with his escape for now.
So far, so good.
He didn't know what he was thinking, revealing himself so obviously like that. And to her, nevertheless. He had been passing through, running from the angels as he always had been, and then he had seen the angel infested plane flying directly towards the city, ready to kill hundreds of thousands of people. His conscience had pulled him to act to save them all, and so he had, utilising what power he knew he possessed.
It was a stupid risk, and he knew it. She had killed the angels, along with some other unknown person, well before he could even grab the plane telekinetically. Still deciding to go through with it, he knew she had recognised him almost immediately, and he nearly dropped the plane then and there and ran.
Continuing through the port, he began to sway and stumble. Holding an arm to the wall, he reflected that he had been on the run for almost a year now, with no real breaks in the chase. He knew he couldn't last much longer. Dragging himself along, he saw an electronic sign tell him where he needed to go.
Stowing himself onto a ship that was heading back to Vigrid, he figured that the angels wouldn't be smart enough to think he would entertain going back to the country that started his personal hell. He figured that she would be smart enough to figure it out, and he expected the Father to. He was not going to underestimate them.
Finding a corner amongst the shipping containers, he sat with his back to it, allowing him to view the open space in front of him easily. Pain flared up in his extra limb as it leaned against the wall, but he blanked it out by casting a small healing spell onto it, and gritting his teeth and willing himself to not feel it.
He then felt another spasm of pain wrack his body, and he shivered in response. The dull ache that was his limbs weighed them down, and he knew he wasn't much longer for this world.
Dying here was better than the living hellhole that was Ithavoll, he reasoned to himself. And I get to put a hole in whatever the Father was planning.
Closing his eyes, he looked forward the small amount of sleep he would get on the trip, before they found him again and he would be forced to defend himself.
He was intent on surviving in his freedom for as long as humanely possible. That was all he wanted right now; to live.
Must be doing a real good job of it then… Were his final thoughts as he drifted off into sleep.