In Our Own World

Warm, slippery, wet puddles carpeted the dark razor-edged grass field decorated with the malignant machines that wept for mercy in the form of brutality. The morose moon, overseeing the violent fatalities from above, reflected painful radiance against the crimson floods sloshing through the grass. Slick, drenched, battered limbs and carnage was strewn all over, adding the props to the grotesque play. Broken golems were crumpled by dead freezing bodies, desperately twitching for the last of its life.

Hopeless salty tears cascaded down the cheeks of many pale exorcists as all they could gaze upon was either the enemy or their fallen comrades. Stepping through the gore with wavering determination was a beautiful Chinese exorcist by the name of Lenalee Lee. Coils of raven hair spilled down her back messily from all the fighting and her pale skin was blemished with the touch of swelling and pain. Her arms were cut to gashes, red fluid running hungrily down to the distended fingertips by her sides. Dark cold eyes swam with tears and opposition toward the akuma. The leather binding her naked body was torn and stained now. The whiteness of the patterns on the destroyed uniform was tainted red and the black made her body seem halfway distorted into the darkness of night. Lips parted for her to exhale in ragged measures of breath. Would they win? Her thoughts were mingled with the loss of friends to the futility of the battle. Knees bucked in wearily, wishing faintly for the pain to cease. It wasn't typical for Lenalee to be so weak and feeling so negative, but the deaths and attacks blew harsh against her spirit. To those around her, it looked as if she was no more than an empty husk to endlessly fight for the Pope's own devices. Deep down to the core of miserable matters, all exorcists were marionettes to the strings securely strangled around the unsanctified Pope's gnarled fingers of greed.

What did it matter? Did anything matter anymore to Lenalee? Most of her friends died. Her own brother, Supervisor Komui Lee, was in critical condition back at the headquarters due to a dual attack presumably planned out efficiently by the Earl. Was the game being over-played? What was the reason for anything anymore? Thoughts became contorted inside her head as she trudged on, feeling fallen fellow exorcists' blood glued upon her activated boots, which glowed and crawled upon her bruised legs in sharp-edged diamonds.

A warm hand possessed on of her own, blood associating through out both joined hands. Slowly, Lenalee peered up to see the very face that made her heart pump rapidly every time. Gazing upon the silvery liquid mercury eyes and striking white cropped hair of the young man she loved, Lenalee couldn't help but smile coolly, glad that at least he was alive and in better shape than she was in currently. She couldn't help but logically ask herself how long it would be until he was as marred.

"Lenalee, are you alright?" His worried tone caressed her, pleased to find that he cared for her health. However, she found his question to be useless because one look upon her appearance and one would know the answer to such an inquiry.

"….Allen, what are we going to…do?" She asked him a question instead of answering something so foolish and feeble at the time. How was her health more important than saving the lives of the innocent as well as her partners in the Black Order?

"Honestly, Lena, I'm not sure….I can't seem to find a way in penetrating the enemy….I'm sorry…" He pouted at her, looking sincerely forlorn with the situation. His cursed left arm was activated, being glazed over in metallic weaponry with a red cross embedded within his hand. Dirt and blood painted his face as he stood beside her, wishing that he could do more for her.

Sudden heavy weight collided into the couple, smashing them against the coarse bark of the nearest tree. The wind had been knocked out of Lenalee, making her slide uselessly to the ground, feeling completely dizzy into a hazy of a world washed black and red. Long black eyelashes flickered, obscuring her vision more rapidly and longer than usual.

Allen ended up recovering quicker than she could, assuming a fighting position at the ghastly akuma that had done the damage of thrashing them agonizingly against the tree. Pulling back his arm to assault, his left eye throbbed, locking onto the machine for a clean swipe. He then sliced through the malicious machine, ending its misery and effortless cause to destroy. After watching the fatigued iridescent spirit ascend into the black sky, Allen cradled Lenalee in his arms, frowning with worry.

"Oh, Lena…." Allen whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver at the intimacy of his cool breath upon her lobe. "Please don't inflict yourself with any more damage…Stay out of the way….For me?"

"For you?"

"Yes, for me. Listen, Lena…." His pale cheeks flushed light pink before he added, "I want….I want…." Before Lenalee had time to try and concept what he was trying to say to her, his bruised aching lips crammed hungrily against her cracked ones. He drew back and sucked gently upon her throbbing fingertips, vigorously pumping her fingers individually in his mouth, tongue caressing the sore skin.

Lenalee threw her head back with a faint smile, relishing the affection from Allen Walker. Her burning tips were soaked in his saliva, clean of the coppery blood that had pooled down from her arm. They were in their own world momentarily, a soar-coated distraction from the massacre.

"I love you, Lenalee…." Allen said against her lips, feeling warm ecstasy swimming through pulsating veins.

Just as she manages to let the same words tremble from her lips, screaming crawls up her throat and massacres her proclamation. Tragically, she could hear a scream spring forth from his lips as well. Looking down at her stomach, it was the end. A linked end. Linking Lenalee to the mane she loved was a cylindrical fat claw shooting into Lenalee and out Allen's back. Maggots of crimson scattered from their lips as eyes were forever imprisoned into alarm.

Into their own little world they drowned, tarnished by machinery and submerged in blood.