"Ky, this is it. This is it, isn't it?"
The Gear beside her stared at the building and snarled to himself. His mouth was gaped. "They're covering their tracks. Someone's alive."
"What?"
"Someone set it on fire. This is it, Dizzy."
"It is!" she cried victoriously. She stepped closer to the edge of the hill, but when she did, the ground under her crumbled like sand. It seemed to grab her boot and pull her down. She went tumbling. Stones went down with her. She tried to grab the surface, but only wound up with handfuls of stones and dirt. She slid down the slope until she stopped at the bottom.
She sat on the ground while she stared at the lone building across from her. She listened to a few loose stones roll down, then the crashing of them as Gear-Ky raced down the slope after her. His descent was much easier.
"Dizzy! Dizzy, are you alright?" he called urgently, then landed beside her in one leap. Dust, dirt and pebbles rolled to the base of the slope he had kicked up.
"I'm fine," she said.
"Alright? You just—"
She stood as he looked at her anxiously. There were no broken limbs, no gaping, bleeding wounds, no scratches, just an ache here and there. "See?" She dusted herself off and gave her tail a flick before she turned to the burning building in the distance. The smoke was thick in the air and darkened the windows. She found herself staring at it. It looked different this way as its core burned on the inside, but it was still the building she dreamed of; she was sure of it, distorted as it were.
She began to spread her arms out from her sides, her palms out towards it, as if she were welcoming it like a worshiper. She then dropped her arms and looked at the Gear near her. "Ky, what is this place?"
A low growl rumbled in his throat. He didn't take his eyes off it. "Where it all happened. I remember now. It's come back. Not everything, but it's there. I wonder if. . ."
"I wonder if anyone's still here," Dizzy said automatically, then stepped forward, towards the heat and smoke. She walked up to it, then stopped. She watched it burn. She watched the black smoke billow behind the glass windows like demons. She watched the white walls turn black.
White walls.
"This is it," she whispered. "Strange dream. I dreamed of—" She paused as Gear-Ky limped beside her and growled at the burning building as if it were a threat to them. She noticed his limp had gotten worse now. The past few days of travel wasn't helping the wound, yet he still pushed on. "Ky, I dreamed of a place I never been to and it was real. How?"
Gear-Ky was silent for a long time and stared at her deeply. She didn't look away. Those eyes seemed hypnotizing against the reflection of the flames. But then, she couldn't see those eyes anymore. She couldn't see him. Instead, she found herself standing somewhere else. There was no burning building, no hill, no fiery sunset.
She looked around furiously and saw quaint houses standing side by side. All the lights were out. The only light source she had was the full moon above her. She stood in the dark belly of a sleeping village.
But how did she get there? And where was Ky?
She quickly picked her head up when she noticed a dark rider upon a dark horse moving towards her. She tensed and watched him come closer, but then relaxed when he came closer. It was Ky. He was human and dressed in his uniform. And the horse—
The horse wasn't Nora. It was a big black war horse. There was a strange decoration on its head like some Knights used to protect their mounts during battle. This face plate had horns that curved back like a ram's and a symbol positioned at the forehead.
She soon realized it was no face plate at all. The horns were real, and the mark she saw was a Gear mark.
She gasped and looked up at the rider upon the strange horse. She almost expected to see an oddity about him, too, but she saw no such thing. It was just Ky, handsomely dressed in that black and gold uniform. His eyes were eager and his face somehow looked younger.
"Ky?"
He raised a hand and playfully saluted her. "Your orders?"
She looked at him, confused. "What?"
"Dizzy, we need your orders," he said. "I need your orders. I can always play the decoy as usual."
She just shook her head and stared at him. She said nothing.
He sighed before he leaned forward and spoke something in French between the Gear-horse's ears. It then turned, with Ky only holding a single fistful of its mane, the other hand holding his sword at his side, and walked back to where they had come from.
"K-Ky?"
She was left alone in the streets. She stood there quietly, her arms crossed under her breasts like she were trying to warm herself, but she felt no cold or wind in the air. The village was bedded down like it was ready for it, though. No one was outside. She thought for a moment that maybe it was abandoned. But why?
She suddenly jolted at the sharp sound of a bell in the distance. It was not the soothing and melodic chime of a church bell but a frantic and alarming sound. She listened to it curiously, and only when did it sound, the sleeping village began to stir. Lights flicked on, shadows and bodies moved about. She even heard a woman scream.
She looked up, and down the street she saw the reason behind the scream. Down the path, a parade of Gears marched towards her, and Ky was leading them. Dizzy couldn't count how many there were—thirty, maybe twenty. Many of them varied, but all of them were bigger than her and Ky.
He pulled the Gear-horse to a stop in front of her, with the small army following his example. They stopped at a respectful distance behind him, shifting, growling. All of their eyes were on her. Ky looked over his shoulder at the band as they grew restless. He raised a hand and bounced it as he spoke in French to them. Ky had taught her some French, but she didn't understand what he said this time.
The horde then began to calm. Only a few fidgeted.
She then looked up at him. "What did you say?"
"Nothing," he said and shook his head. He raised his hand again, higher this time and twirled it, his wrist rolling loosely. His index finger was pointed to the dark sky.
At the signal, the Gears bellowed roars and growls like a crowd shouting a war cry. They parted and spread into the village, some going in pairs or groups. She watched one leap through a window and into a house.
The village woke to the raiding Gears. There was screaming. People were running.
Dizzy gasped and placed her hands over her mouth as she watched this. She couldn't tear her eyes away, but after a while, she did. Her mind played what was happening backwards, up until the start where Ky twirled his finger in the air. She realized it wasn't just a gesture, it was a command.
She looked up at him. "Ky?"
"Yes, Dizzy?" he asked in a whisper.
"You. . .you did this?"
He turned his head to her but said nothing.
"Why?"
He continued to stare at her mutely. When there was beauty and strength in his eyes, there was murder. She didn't like this change in Ky, even if he was back to his old self.
He then finally said: "I'm sorry I had to show you this. I just had to prove something to you—"
Then, a loud bang erupted nearby, followed by a sudden heat and light. She turned her head to see a building on fire, with burning debris beginning to catch the others around it.
It burned fast. The flames were hot and hungry, destroying anything in its path to ease its hunger until the village began to glow. She watched as a building at the edge of the street she and Ky were standing on spewed smoke out of its windows.
"Dizzy."
The flames ate away at the building's foundation until it could no longer hold itself up. And like cutting off the legs of a giant, it collapsed. It sent charred wood, debris and wood tumbling towards them.
"Dizzy!"
She fell backwards. She saw a spiraling blackness at first, then the bright orange and red glow of the flames around her. She stared at it as she sat upright on the ground.
"Dizzy!"
Ky. Ky was calling her.
She heard someone approaching her from behind. She turned her head, but it wasn't Ky, it was an older white-haired man standing over her with a burning piece of wood raised over his head like a club. And he was about to bring it down on her.
She screamed and tried to move, but it felt like her body was stuck in thick mud that held her relentlessly down. She struggled but it was no use. Her body refused to move as if she no longer had control over it. Undine and Necro wouldn't even protect her.
"KY!" she screamed, then closed her eyes before the man could strike her.
But it never came.
She opened her eyes to see the white-haired man standing over her with his hands outstretched and his fingers splayed. He laughed manically like a storybook monster. He was dressed in a white and gray military outfit, which gave him a human quality, although he looked like he was about to pounce on her. A monster in a man's body.
She then caught a dark shadow fly out from the corner of her eye, with it nearly clipping her as it went by. It went straight for the white-haired man, and it was Ky. Gear-Ky. He latched himself onto the man's arm like an attack dog, and she had a front row seat to the action. She was so close she could hear the man's arm break.
His arm came apart in the Gear's mouth. It happened so fast, so smoothly, Gear-Ky simply bit down and pulled away. The limb hung dead in his mouth while the man screamed, left with a bloody stump. It began to stain his pale outfit. The majority of his sleeve was gone.
He continued to scream. Gear-Ky stared at him with the limb between his jaws and growled. He seemed to dare him, Come and get it.
Dizzy watched it all. Her mouth hung agape with a choking sound in her throat. Her lips quivered but no words would come out, just that strangled wail.
She couldn't move. She couldn't scream. She couldn't tell him to stop. She felt like a statue, left on her hands and knees and forced to take in what was before her.
Then the statue began to cry. The tears came in great heaves until she could barely breathe.
Let it be a dream, she said to herself. Let it be a dream, too.
The twigs and branches grabbed at him, pulling at his sleeves and scratched at his face like a wild crowd. He shoved them back and kept moving nonetheless. Neither the cold, evil creatures, or branches could stop him. This was nothing compared to his past with the Crusades.
He was close. He knew it. His travels would be over soon.
Kill it. Kill it.
That voice continued to haunt his mind since the day he heard it. It was a reminder each time he closed his eyes and dreamed, finding its way past the victims of the Gears. At least this one came to him only as a voice, not a mutilated body. He hoped it wouldn't become another victim.
He followed the scent and the blackness of the smoke that reached up to the full moon. It was what lead him here, to the end of his hunt.
Dear God, they're burning the bodies! The Gears are burning their bodies!
But this smoke didn't smell like burning flesh. Something else was burning. Someone was trying to get attention. It wasn't an accidental fire.
He suddenly halted and listened. Something was moving through the woods. Slow. Lumbering. He heard it stumble once, rustling up the passive leaves underneath its feet.
It wasn't a Gear. It didn't sound like a Gear.
He turned his head and saw a pale body moving at his side through the trees towards him. The ex-Knight held steady, spreading his feet and gripped the handle of his sword firmly. He watched the pale thing until it came out from the trees and into clearer view.
It was a man. They both stood on edge when they saw each other. They must have stared at each other for a good few moments as if they were the last of humanity, finding their meeting a pleasant shock.
The man was wearing a dirty white and gray military issue uniform, but he couldn't quite place the origin. There were metals gleaming off the moonlight on the breast of his tunic. His hair was white like the uniform. He must have been somewhere in his early sixties.
And then he saw it. His arm was missing. The sleeve—or what was left of it—was torn off and stained in blood. But the man barely seemed to notice it. Shock perhaps.
The man smiled at him and said, "Commander Ky Kiske. An honor to see you."
The young officer looked at him, still stunned. "Wh-who. . ."
The man waved his bloody and only hand. "It doesn't matter who I am, if that's what you're trying to get at. But I wasn't expecting you. How did you know to come here?"
"The IPF received a distress call about a Gear. Is it still here?"
The man frowned. "I didn't call you. But yes, it is."
He pointed towards the smoke rising into the air. "Is that why—"
The man looked down on the bloody stump, ignoring what he was trying to say and supported it. "It got me. It got me twice. First my leg, now my arm. Next time, it might get my head."
"No, it won't. I'll make sure of it."
The man turned his attention back on the young blonde and grinned after his eyes found the sight of the bright blade in his right hand. He grinned. "You want it, don't you? It's back there, down the base of the hill. You'll see it when you get closer to the building, that is if it hasn't followed me yet. Take its head off. A dragon won't bite if you take its head off."
Ky nodded. "Thank you. Stay here. I'll be back." He then dashed past the man, his long legs carrying him fast to the edge of the woods and to the crest of the hill the man had talked about. When he looked down, he was able to see the source of the smoke that had lead him. It was coming from a lone building in the clearing below. It was in a wild blaze. He narrowed his eyes and saw figures near the burning building. One looked human and the other—
It was the Gear! It was facing the poor soul, the Gear's head nearly touching theirs. He could see the figure's arms around the Gear's neck, trying to push it off or keep it from going any further.
Dear God! The man had never told him there was another survivor!
Ky flew down the face of the hill and went sliding down it once he found it would not support him. He slid down a few feet like a surfer then after judging his balance, he sprang down it until he reached the bottom. He quickly regained himself and sprinted for the Gear and survivor like a predator racing for its prey.
The air got hotter, the smoke thicker the closer he got, but he never took his eyes off his target: the Gear. It was smaller than most Gears. The smaller ones were normally faster, that meant he had to take it by surprise.
"Get away!" he screamed and raised Furaiken over his head. His muscles tensed. His blood became electrified.
When the Gear pulled away from the survivor and looked at him, Ky brought the blade down. He felt it cut through its muscle and flesh, and heard the vertebrae sever in a clean thunk. It went straight through from behind the skull.
The body and head collapsed in two pieces. The head looked like a wolf—if he was able to cut off the huge teeth that arched out of its mouth, gouged out the red eyes from its sockets and distorted the Gear mark on its forehead. It would look like some sort of mutation.
The two halves laid spilling blood onto the ground while the survivor, a woman in a black cloak, screamed in hysterics. She screamed loud—and she was screaming his name. He turned his head and once he saw who it was, his eyes widened. He had been so focused on the black Gear, he didn't have time to notice the cobalt-haired hybrid. He didn't notice her until the deed was done.
She continued to cry and scream hysterically. He could barely make out a word she said. He looked at the body of the Gear, then back at Dizzy.
"Dizzy, I had no—"
She slapped him. His head jerked and was left with a red mark that would stay with him at least two days. He raised a hand and placed his exposed fingers against the hot spot on his cheek. She stood in front him with her face soaked in tears, screaming, scolding him and crying.
When he tried to speak rationally to her, she shoved him aside and went over to the body of the decapitated Gear. Once she got a good look at it, she screamed and covered her eyes. It wasn't long before she took off running.
He watched her go but made no attempt to go chasing after her. When she was gone, Ky Kiske stood up and looked down on the dead Gear. It would not be coming back.
With a sigh, he dusted his soiled uniform off and trekked back up the hill, which wasn't as easy as going down. He went sliding a few times before he clawed and climbed his way back up to the patch of woods. There, he found the man in white dead, sitting against a tree, his head bowed.
He stared a moment before he knelt in front of him. He slowly tilted his head back to check his vitals. He paused when he saw the handle of a knife sticking out from the center of his neck. Ky drew his hand away and cast his eyes down to the ground.
"He killed himself," he whispered.
The Black Forest welcomed her back in an eerie white silence as if it already knew of the horrible news. There was no use to explain, not with his blood dried on her hands, but when she finally returned to the Jellyfish Pirates, she had to force herself. His violent and gruesome death still went over and over in her mind.
"And his head was in my hands!" she cried like it was a punchline. The girls stood around her as if she were some sort of preacher, standing in awe and then horror. Some covered their mouths and others gasped. "After I saw it, I-I threw it to the ground." She looked at the palms of her hands the way she looked at them after she had thrown the head. The blood was still there, some of it cracked and faded away over the days that took her to return to the crew. She then drew them back to her sides and continued. "I was so angry and scared. I started screaming. B-but the officer who did it, he didn't say he was sorry for it." She wiped at her face, staining her cheek more. "I don't think he was sorry. I-I hate him for what he did. I hate him!"
"Dizzy," Johnny's voice said from within the crowd. "Don't say that."
"I can't," she said and took another swipe at her eye. "He killed Ky. And I think he loved me."
The End.