ARCHIVED FROM JANUARY 2016
Characters: Yang Xiao Long
Theme: Justice
Sidenote: Borders the line between T and M. Read at own discretion.
Lady Lazarus
Description: "Is this not the justice you wanted?"
Original Note: So... that was a thing. January Moncon, yaaaaaayyyy...
The story's title, Lady Lazarus, is a reference to the Sylvia Plath poem of the same name, which was actually a heavy influence on the overlaying themes of this story. The allegories are all there, if you're willing to go and dissect the piece.
Also, I've been listening to the song "Lazarus" by David Bowie a lot recently, so there's that.
Drip. Drop.
Through a small leak emitted the only source of sound in the small, dark space within the four enclosed walls. Yet the sound seemed only much more amplified between the walls.
Those walls…
In the short time that she had been there, those walls had become very familiar to her. Some of the stone was even stained with her blood at the spots where she had punched and punched until the bone of her knuckles had burst through the skin.
Those walls had become very familiar to her, indeed. Its familiarity reeked to her even as she lay motionless upon the floor.
Come to think of it, the floor was surely an acquaintance by now as well. Memories of desperately grasping at scraps of food off of the filthy, feces-covered floor as they fell from trembling fingers surfaced vaguely. Whether they were her hands or not, she did not know.
However, food was food. If it still had an edible quality, then she would eat it.
Still, food in too small of quantities provided not a veritable sustenance. It was barely enough food and water to keep her alive, and even so her body had not been able to produce a drop of aura in what seemed like forever.
Forever... it was hard for her to even remember exactly what that word implied.
Time itself had become a foreign concept. However much time had passed since she had been there, she had absolutely no idea.
Sometimes she wondered why she had to be there.
And then she remembered.
Remembering hurt. It made her burn. Not with the fires of her since long-gone determination, but with pure hatred.
Hatred at them. They, who wrongfully imprisoned, who shackled her in this godforsaken place, left with nothing but her name and an infamy that was not her own.
They, who left her to rot against the cold, cold stone floor, stained with dry piss and dirt.
They, who left her to open and reopen the gashes in her wrists made by the manacles that gnawed upon her skin like the teeth of dogs against stripped bones.
They, who left her to the open arms of her hatred. Oh, the hatred.
In the back of her mind flashed the faces of those she once trusted.
With one mouth they expected great and wondrous things out of her as a huntress.
With the other, they spat on her.
She used to hope that it was some strange, twisted joke. And what a grand joke it was. They must all be laughing at her now.
The mere thought of it set her on fire, and she clenched her fists until the knuckles were white.
It hurt how much it burned. Past the hatred, there was… something else.
Pain.
She could barely make it out past the overwhelming inferno of hatred, but she knew it was there. External or internal, she was no longer sure. At some point or another, it had all just seemed to meld together into a single, white-hot dagger burrowing in her back.
She wanted nothing more than to pull it out.
And when she could finally remove it, she would use it to strike vengeance at the ones who had chained her up like a feral beast.
Oh yes, she would make them burn dearly for their wrongdoings and their corruption of justice.
That would be her own justice, dealt by her own burning hand.
Drip. Drop.
The sound of leaking water broke her fiery stream of consciousness.
She remembered thinking once when they had first locked her away that surely, with a breach of the stonework allowing for water to seep in, there must be something that wormed its way out through the same hole.
It was a strangely philosophical thought. She blinked, surprised by the resurfacing of the memory and wondered what its relevance to her current situation was. Unable to find an answer, she dismissed it.
Drip. Drop.
Almost as an afterthought, she faintly wondered what her team could be up to.
Through the door permeated the horrific sounds of death.
Ruby shuddered as scream after scream emanated from beyond the Team RWBY dorm room, and although she could not see the carnage itself (nor did she wish too), the sound of flesh being rendered from bone was one that would haunt her for the rest of her life.
At this point in time, she wasn't even sure how much longer that would last.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the shuddering form of a heavily injured Blake as she lay on the floor, a bloodied gash running through her side. Her face was pale and distorted in barely restrained agony, and as her eyes met with Ruby's, the redhead made out the distinct flash of fear in those eyes.
A panicked Weiss knelt in the rapidly growing pool of blood that spewed forth from Blake's wound, her shaking hands frantically trying to treat it with whatever resources and glyphs she could amass. Sweat rolled down her forehead, and despite the surmounting futility of the situation, the heiress's focus on the task remained resolute.
Ruby chanced a look out the dorm window, and her heart dropped as the world outside was blackened by hordes and hordes of Grimm. Bloody splotches of red along the ground marked the last stands of those either brave or foolish enough to face the oncoming stampede, and the Grimm of the sky blotted out the sun like storm clouds.
The redheaded huntress never imagined such a force of Grimm so vast before in her life, and it looked like something out of her worst nightmares.
Her mind was snapped back to the present as the cries of the dying from just outside the dorm grew louder still.
She glanced briefly at the door before turning to the heiress. "Weiss! Help me move all the furniture in front of the door!"
Her teammate jumped, startled from her own tasks.
"Ruby, you know I can't!" Weiss's voice cracked in desperation. "Blake is going to die if I don't –"
A cold yet comforting hand reached up and grabbed the heiress's own, and she looked down to see Blake, her pale face smiling weakly at the heiress.
"Don't worry… about me." Her voice barely came out as a whisper, and the faunus seemed to lose strength with every word.
Weiss hesitated, before nodding slowly and standing up to help her leader. Ruby could make out the tears streaming off of the heiress's porcelain face as she moved away from their wounded teammate.
They worked wordlessly for the next five minutes. There was no time left for conversation.
It wasn't long before all the available bookcases, dressers, and bedframes had been stacked up, and not a moment too soon, either. As Ruby shoved the last piece of furniture against the door, a loud SLAM resounded from the other side, and the redhead jumped back with a yelp.
"Damn…" Ruby cursed, one of the few times in her life that she had used such language. She knew the consequences of their actions; even though they had temporarily blocked the Grimm from entering the room as well as buying themselves a little time, they had also effectively barricaded their only valid means of escape. Jumping out the windows meant suicide; the Grimm stampede would make sure of it.
Furthermore, the ghastly reality of their situation was slowly beginning to dawn on Ruby.
If their classmates and their teachers could not survive the onslaught of Grimm, then how could they possibly hope to live?
A sudden roar from beyond the door made Ruby flinch, and only moments later, the claw of an Ursa burst through the door Shining-style. The three girls were showered in splinters, and they all recoiled backwards in pure unconscious instinct.
Ruby bit her lip hard, feeling a globule of blood sliding down her chin. Swallowing back her overwhelming sense of dread with an audible swallow, the redhead shakily pulled out Crescent Rose in scythe mode and pointed the business end towards the door.
She turned towards the rest of her team.
Blake had propped herself up against the back wall of the room and aimed Gambol Shroud in the same direction, its form shifted to gun mode. Her skin was deathly pale and, with the slippery combination of cold sweat and blood, her drenched hand seemed to slacken in its grip on her weapon, but there was an unmistakable intensity in her narrowed amber eyes that shined like a star on the verge of death.
Weiss herself had drawn Myrtenaster in one hand and raised the other to prepare several glyphs. The knuckles of the hand which held the sword were whiter than seemed humanly possible, and she waveringly turned her head towards Ruby to meet her leader's gaze, offering a forced, melancholic smile.
Ruby made herself smile back as reassuringly as she possibly could.
They knew how this would end.
The splintered hole in the door grew wider as the Grimm continued to chip against it.
Ruby's grip tightened on the scythe. She drew breath for the last time.
"Yang… please be okay…"
The door burst apart in a flurry of wood, and Ruby closed her eyes.
"… Is she awake?"
She barely heard the voices before coming to the realization that she was indeed awake.
Pushing past the haze of drowsiness that enveloped her consciousness, she reluctantly opened her eyes.
As dimly lit as the cell was, light still flooded her field of vision, and she squinted against the discomfort as, slowly but surely, her eyes adjusted When she could finally bear to keep her eyes open, a strange sight met her.
As per usual, she observed her surroundings from the sideways perspective of the recovery position. The door of her prison cell, which usually remained shut for as long as she had remembered, was propped open. In her immediate sight stood three people, all of whom she recognized after some forethought; they were students from Haven, if she recalled correctly. She didn't exactly remember their names at first – there was the green-haired girl who had apparently become fast friends with her sister, and the mysterious dark-haired woman who usually accompanied her. Against the doorframe, eyes closed and a smirk upon his face, leaned the familiar form of –
No. It couldn't be. It was impossible.
She had broken his leg. By all means, he should not be standing.
And yet, there the bastard, adding insult to her injury just by being present.
Her widened eyes flashed red, and the rage came flooding back into her being with a vengeance.
"You."
Mercury's eyes cracked open, and he gave her sideways glance that simply oozed arrogance. "Me."
Her teeth clenched tightly, and she strained her scabbing wrists against the shackles with renewed fervor. Her throat was parched and gravelly as she began to spit at the man.
"You! You put me here, you bastard! I'll kill you! I'll fucking you! I'll –"
"Silence."
The dark-haired woman spoke, and some strange quality in her voice commanded an audience. The struggling stopped almost instantly, and narrow red eyes fixed upon the woman, who knelt down towards the sole prisoner of the room.
"You are Yang Xiao-Long." It was not a question, but rather a statement which was spoken in a manner that seemed to convey that the woman knew much more than she let on.
"Eliminated in the one-on-one rounds by matter of disqualification. Imprisoned for attacking and injuring another student without provocation. One of Beacon's brightest, committing such a heinous act…" The woman smiled thinly. "It makes you wonder what kind of repugnancy they must be teaching at such a highly esteemed establishment."
The red eyes burned even brighter, almost creating its own flame by sheer intensity. "That's not true at all and you know it! Your asshole teammate, who attacked me, is standing there like I didn't even touch him. How? How!? That's not possible…"
Venom spewed from her mouth like a geyser, and with a mighty effort, she lifted her head to fix her hateful stare upon the gray-haired man. "You attack me, trick me, and frame me so that I get locked up and starved while you continue to walk free? What the hell is this shit? I should slay you where you stand, you… you… you son of a bitch…" Spittle flew from her mouth in frenzy, and her body thrashed once more against her restraints.
"Very original," drawled Mercury, rolling his eyes. "But you don't even have the strength to stand - unlike me, of course." He strolled over to her with a cruel smile. "Look at you, barking and snarling about. You're just a dog now. And you know what I do with dogs like you?"
The grey-haired man leaned over her and grinned. "I kick you."
In a deft motion, he drew his leg back and drove the toes of his boot into her stomach, and with a horrible choking noise she doubled over and spat out a mouthful of blood.
"That's enough, Mercury." Through her sudden deprivation of air and the sudden crippling pain, she barely registered the older woman's commanding tone. Gasping for breath, she heard the man sigh in exasperation before walking away from her now fetal form.
As the fog of agony cleared away from her mind, she warily shifted her focus back to the woman, who continued to kneel by her, the faint smile still persistent on that face.
"It really is a shame that this is where your story has led up to, Yang Xiao-Long," purred the woman in mocking tone. "From what I heard, you could have made a very powerful huntress, someone whose strength might have been something I would've had to watch out for."
It only made her madder that this one was complimenting her in the most disingenuous way.
The woman reached a hand to softly caress her battered cheek, and she flinched at the touch. "But fear not, my dear. There is still a use for you yet, a role for you to play that is indeed a very important catalyst for change in the history of our world as we know it."
Her brow furrowed but she remained silent, save her hitched panting.
Smiling wider, the older woman continued. "You are aware that Grimm are attracted by negativity, right? Well... no matter. Your prior knowledge of such is not important. However, I believe it's only common sense that the amount of Grimm that appear in a central area is directly proportional to the amount of negativity emitted by such a place. The more vileness, the more uncertainty that a place has, the more Grimm it attracts."
Fingers slowly came to rest upon the her perspiring forehead, and they stroked about in a circular motion. "So tell me, when you were attacked, when you were deceived, when you were wrongfully incarcerated… how did that make you feel? Did it make you angry? Did it make you… hate? Did you let it fill you up, let it control your emotions? Did you let it burn within your heart?"
She continued to glare, but the red flare of her eyes dulled slightly to give way to a spark of uncertainty. In the midst of her rage and hatred, she began to do the best possible thing in the worst possible time.
She was beginning to understand.
And still, the dark-haired woman smiled even more, those lips beginning to resemble a Chelsea grin in the low light.
"You are a very unique individual, Yang Xiao-Long. Your powers are exemplary when your rage becomes you. You thrive for it. The rage… it fuels you. And when a hatred burns inside your heart… for someone like you, one can almost taste the hate pulsing off of you. You're like an amplifier for hatred, in that regard. And of course, when you have such a powerful source of such negative energy, Grimm are only bound to come in droves."
If time hadn't already stopped for her long ago, then it most certainly ground to a halt as her ears were forced to listen.
"I must say I'm impressed," the commanding, arrogant voice proclaimed. "You're a very powerful person indeed. I never thought it quite possible for someone to emit so much pure negative energy. In fact, your power is quite literally changing the world, and it will help us herald in a new age, one that will certainly make its mark on Remnant. It's... unfortunate that you won't be able to see the fruits of your labor. The Grimm are taking over Vale and the Vytal Festival as we speak, and it's all thanks to you."
"No…" Dread began to fill up her whole being, like frigid water running down the spine of her back, and she could feel the once raging red of her eyes snuffing out into a fearful pale lilac. "Please, no…"
"Hmph." The woman let out a self-satisfied laugh. "However, I suppose I should tell of all that you have accomplished in the role that you have been given. Even as you lay there, unable to move, you've brought upon this city more Grimm than any one person has ever seen, let alone fathomed. Every poor soul that walks outside forfeits his life, and every one else, huntsmen or civilians, will find that hiding is pointless."
It couldn't be true... a world so bright and vibrant... surely it could not die so easily?
"I've heard a rumor from the little black birds around that even the headmasters and students are preishing by the second. Actually, I'm not even sure that any of them are still left alive, but if they still foolishly cling to life, then they surely must be on their death throes."
"The… students?" She felt her voice tremble with growing dread. She shook her head violently, hoping desperately for it all to be wrong. "No... Ruby… please..."
"Hmm?" For once in the entire one-sided conversation, the woman seemed to respond to her. "But is this not what you want? Those who wronged you, who sent you away for a crime you did not commit – did you not want them to pay? Did you not want to exact your revenge on them?"
She felt her chin being cupped, but as much as she tried to worm away, the evil woman's face loomed only inches away from her own.
"Is this not the justice you wanted?"
She wished for an answer, a sharp retort, any firm denial to spring forth from her mouth.
Instead, her lips could only whimper in response.
Apparently satisfied with this answer, the dark-haired woman stood back up. "I'll let you bask in your accomplishments thus far. We'll have plenty of time to talk later, as your achievements grow even greater."
"Wait, Cinder." The green-haired girl objected. "Haven't you just taken away her hatred? How is she supposed to help us now that she has no means to draw in the Grimm?"
"Patience, my dear Emerald," chuckled Cinder. "The only negative emotion that's stronger than hatred is despair. Despair does wonders to tear down even the greatest of civilizations; her despair will feed our cause nicely."
Once more those glowing jack-o-lantern eyes turned towards her, and she tried to withdraw herself away from them.
"You should be happy, now that your accusers will no longer bother you. Congratulations, Yang Xiao-Long; justice is yours."
With that, Cinder walked out of the prison cell, beckoning the other two with a hand. Wordlessly, Emerald followed.
Mercury was the last one in the room. As he lazily made his way out, he turned towards the shackled girl once more with a wicked grin.
"This is why I'm on top… and why I'll keep stomping you down."
He slammed the door shut behind him.
And just like that, it was just her and those dark four walls again.
Shivering, she realized how much colder the room had become, and she knew now that she was empty. All of her anger, all of her rage, all of her… hatred.
It had ceased to burn.
She shivered without end, the cold inside and outside her eating away at her fortitude.
No… why… why did this have to happen?
Grief. Grief did not burn. It sank in the pit of her stomach, like the brisk air in the cell.
Ruby… it's all… my fault… I did this…
Grief did not burn. It gripped with its icy digits and threatened to drown her.
Blake… Weiss… I'm so sorry…
She'd be the first to accept that life was not fair. It never had been to her, even in childhood.
But this… this was beyond anything she could ever bear.
How ironic… that my hatred and my anger killed everyone who meant anything dear to me… and I, whose hand dealt their deaths, am forced to live…
My hate… that consumed them all… I am saved from it before it could kill me.
She did not cry. The tears inside her had frozen solid.
She did nothing. There was nothing she could do.
She wanted to die.
But I can't die… because they will force me to live… so that I can continue to kill…
Why?
Why won't they let me die?
I just want to die…