CHAPTER FIVE.
(The Story Reaches A Climax.)
Riding Falada one handed was tricky, in part because she had a tendancy to want to go her own way without firm encourageent, but Soul needed to hold the coin up to his eye in order to see everything that was happening. And what it was that was happening had the appearance of being not a whole lot, the town still hovering in stillness, all energies focused on the church. The calm before the storm, or the break in the battle.
The whole town was holding its breath, teetering on the edge of a precipice.
Soul could see a flash of the Sheriff's red hair from atop Falada. He was perched on top of the victualler's store and he did not look happy to see Maka sitting behind Soul in Falada's saddle. His gun was trained on the church, but Soul suspected that he was fighting the temptation to shoot at Soul. Soul would've tipped his hat to show his appreciation, but he didn't have any free hands.
First they came upon Liz, who was still taking cover behind the dead horse. Falada seemed unconcerned by the death of one of her species, which normally Soul might note as cause for concern, but this time he was just glad she didn't try to fight it. He brought Falada to a stop and looked down at her.
She was lying in a pool of blood.
Soul would've said that it was probably the horses blood it wasn't for the six, no seven bullet holes he could see in her back. They were all exit wounds, the flesh folding outwards. At least the bloodstains weren't quite as visible in the red satin of the dress, because there was no way those were coming out, even if she did manage to mend the holes. The boning of her bodice was damaged, twsted and burned by the heat of the bullets. Soul fought the urge to vomit, suspecting that it might be considered rude. But still, he felt himself pale at the sight.
"Rough day?" Soul asked.
"It's not so bad."
"Can I ask - ?"
"Demon sisters, doomed to wander this earth, undying, with no allies but the shadow of Death," Liz intoned, without looking up. She was focused almost completely on the church. "That old witch was a fool if she thought that would be a curse. Best thing that ever happened to me, really. And that bitch is rotting in hell for it too."
"Seems as though you managed to find yourself a loophole alright," Soul nodded. This must have been what Maka meant when she called him the tip of the iceberg.
"Y'all going to the church?"
"Yes ma'am," Soul said. He looked at the church, cream coloured and unassuming. "If I die, feel free to ransack my body and take all my earthly possessions."
"I'll hold you to that," Liz said, smiling faintly. "I'd go with you, but-"
"Patti told me once that she couldn't step on holy ground because she was a filthy heretic," Soul remembered. "You got some kid of similar condition?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"Make sure you buy her something nice once you're done looting my body," Soul swallowed. "She was good to me when I showed up first."
"I will, but you needn't worry. Patti's togher than she looks. She'll get over you quickly," she said, then squinted down the length of the gun. "You should hurry up, I don't know how much longer the Good Father and our Kiddo can keep her at bay."
In an ideal world, Soul would have preffered to have Falada kick down the door and ride right into the church. On his high horse as it were. In this world, the door was not tall enough for them to enter without having to duck their heads, and so instead, Soul dismounted. He paated Falada on her side to thank her for carrying the two ofthem this far, even if they hadn't been able to make a grand and impressive enterance. He helped Maka down from Falada, holding out his hand for her to take as she climbed down. Maka seemed reluctant to accept his help at the same time as being reluctant to attempt to get off of Falada singlehandedly.
Then they hauled open the door - another reason not to kick down the door, it was a much easier feat to kick down a door if it happened to open in the same direction as you were kicking, and it would be a terrible job to replace it - and stepped inside as a trio.
Sitting in the back pew, conversing easily over tea, was Father Death and a woman that Soul did not have cause to recognise. Through the lens of the golden coin he could see that Father Death was, well. He was the Grim Reaper, shrouded in black cloth and with a grinning skull for a head, his skeletal hand wrapped around the handle of a teacup. Soul felt like he should've figured this out earlier. The woman was wrapped in snakes, coiling and writhing around her. It was almost like they were strangling her, squeezing the life out of her, and she did not seem to pay them any mind at all.
"Maka Albarn!" Father Dead stood to welcome them, as though they were merely late comers to afternoon tea. An afternoon tea that was being served by Kidd, from a wel fashioned teacart. Kidd held up the teapot as if to offer them each a cup, he looked much the same as he always did, to Soul's immense relief. "And Mr. Eater!"
"Hello Father," Maka said, and then, "No tea for me, Kidd."
"No, thank you Kidd," Soul held up his hand to stop Kidd from pouring him a cup, even though he really would've have liked some tea in this trying time.
"Mr. Eater," it wasdifficult to look at Father Death, especially now that he was a skeleton. "I was saddened to hear about your stint in the jailhouse, but I am delighted to announce that you have been exonerated of this particular crime."
"Yes," said the woman, taking a leisurely sip of her tea. "What a terrible misunderstanding. I was just telling the Good Father who really killed those people. All my fault really, that you were imprisoned for so long. I should have come forward with what I knew sooner."
"Maka, who, may I ask, is that?" Soul whispered quietly. "We haven't been introduced."
"That's Medusa," Maka whispered. "She worked as Stein's nurse. Really nice woman."
"Yes, I was the one who killed all those people," She laughed coyly, leaning back in her seat. She tossed her blonde hair and smiled dazzlingly.
"You're right, she seems lovely," Soul said under his breath to Maka. Aloud, for everyone to hear, he said something very damning indeed. "No, you didn't. I know who really killed everyone."
"Really." Medusa's smile turned brittle and her teaspoon clinked against the wall of her teacup. "Who, pray tell, do you think killed all of those people of it wasnt me? Don't be chivalrous and claim them. I doubt anyone would believe you."
"They're a demon of some sort, very shy," Soul grinned, showing all his sharp, sharp teeth in an attempt to intimidate Medusa. He doubted that it was working. "Black blood? Ring any bells?"
"I knew I should've insisted Chrona kill you," she closed her eyes for second. She set her teacup back on the cart, and Father Death followed suit. "No matter, it's served its purpose. It's succeeded in making a final sacrifice. I think it's that obnoxious boy from the General Store - well I hope so."
"Ox?" Maka asked. "You killed Ox?"
Kidd took this oppurtunity to roll the tea chart outside, where it ould be out of harm's way when harm did inevitably come to pass.
"Well, as Soul so astutely pointed out, Chrona is the one doing the actual killing," Medusa said, smiling again as she turned her ands outwards. "But Chrona's just a weapon, and I am the one that wields that weapon."
"Where is he?" Maka said. "Where's Ox?"
"That hardly matters, now. You're all going to die." Medusa said, and laughed again, easy and relaxed.
"Why is everything happening somewhere else?" Soul asked, feeling somewhat behind everyone else in comprehending what was happening. "Does anyone know what is going on? I feel like anytime something happens in this town I show up just a little too late."
"Be careful what you wish for, Ifan," said Father Death.
The ground shook.
"It was a pentacle, Soul." Maka said frantically, the thoughthving just occured to her. "That's why there had tobe five. I should've realised. It looked like a trapezoid when I mapped it out. She was just distracting us!"
Medus made a graceful 'who, me?' gesture, which, much to her annoyance, everyone ignored.
"There was only four of them dead until just now," Kidd injected. "Anyone could've made that mistake."
"What is happening right now?" Soul said, mostly to himself, but also in part to Falada, who looked as though she was spoiling for a fight. Admittedly, she loooked like that more often than not. "Hey girl, you're alright Falada, everything's going to be - "
The ground opened just in front of the altar, the stone floor of the church cracking apart as the whole building shook. Soul placed a hand on Falada's flank to steady her emotionally and himself physically. He glanced over at the piano, the nice one, in the corner. It rang with one long discordant note as the bulding shook.
And then something burst forth from the crack in the church floor, sa being with the approximate shape of a man, as if it had never seen one, but perhaps had had one described to it a very long time ago. It was wrapped in thick bands of skin like bandages and Soul felt an enormous pressure on his body, like the air was weighing down on him from all sides. It made Soul want to drop the golden coin, but instead he pressed it further into his eye, until it hurt just touch.
"Fine," he choked out.
Medusa threw back her head and laughed and laughed, like this was all turning out exactly as she planned it. Her laugh echoed in the church, and as it did, Falada reached over and in one swift movement, accompanied by a sickening tearing sound, ripped out Medusa's throat. Her laugh was still in the air, hanging for a minute, twined with the discordant song of the piano.
Three things happened then.
Soul threw up, vomit splattering on the church floor.
Blood sprayed from Medusa, as she took gasping, gurgling breathes and clawed at her throat.
Falada ate the chunk of flesh, appearing to be quite pleased with herself.
Soul took great heaving breaths, looking up at Maka to see her staring being emerging from the crack in front of the altar. there was blood on her face and clothes, and Soul didn't want to think about the blood that was him, otherwise he had no doubt he would throw up again.
"That looks sort of like you, Kidd."
"That's because it's my brother," Kidd replied, matter of factly. "I got the looks and the brains, and he got bloodlust and insanity. Unfortunate, but thats how it happens sometimes,"
Maybe Soul had been rather hard onhis brother growing up. His brother had never wrapped himself in a bizarre skin outfit and burst through the floor of a church.
"The prodigal son has returned!" Father Death exclaimed. "Home again at last, Asura?"
"The prodigal son is the younger son in the story, Father," Kidd said.
"You always did get bogged down in the details Kiddo."
Holy - that thing could talk. And apparently it was Kidd's big brother. Medusa gurgled her last and slumped over in the pew, without anyone much paying her any attention while she died, untidy and undiginified, overshadowed by the reselution of all he murderous plotting. Falada wandered over, uncaring of her imminent demise if it meant that she got to eat more human flesh. Soul didn't think it was wise to get between Falada and a meal, but he knew that she'd be sick as anything tomorrow. Horses were not meant to eat meat.
That was a problem for tomorrow, which, silver lining, he might not even be alive to see.
Soul decided to do the only thing he knew, the thing he had traded his soul for eleven years or so ago, and walked over to the piano and started playing.
The piano in the saloon might be crotchety old lady who was mistrustful, but this gal was a lady who demanded to be treated right before she might let the pure sound ring. She was sleek and well polished, and tuned to perfection, the notes ringing true through the church. He pushed the stool out of the way, cracked his knuckles and his fingers started to dance, violently pounding the keys at times, and at others caressing them like a lover.
The music was like a cacophonous roar.
Soul was unaware of anything that happened for a while after that. For one, he was fully absorbed in pouring his heart out in the from of song, and for another, the piano was facing the wrong way. The final piece of the puzzle to Soul's complete ignorance to everything happening around him was that he required two hands to play the piano, and he couldn't look through the golden coin while doing so.
But eventually, and insidious whisper reached his ears, a very familiar insidious whisper.
"Where's Mother?"
"Where's, where's your mother," Soul asked, his fingers stumbling a little as he thought. "Blonde lady, very evil, intent causing the end of the world?"
"yes."
"My horse killed her," Soul thought for a second longer, and remembered that he didn't have much to lose at this point. "And started eating her."
"Oh, she wasn't very nice was she?" the demon creature, Chrona, asked. Soul felt ashamed for not thinking to ask them their name before this. He supposed he that had assumed they didn't have one.
"Not particularly, no," Soul said, his hands stretching to new rhythm while he talked."She did want to kill us all, I think."
"I don't want you to die."
"That's very - that's so sweet of you," Soul said, genuinely touched. "I'd prefer not to die,"
"Really?" Chrona said, as if the idea of someone not wanted to die was very surprising to them.
"Well, I'd rather if no one died, Chrona."
But they were already gone, and Soul found himself pulled into the song again, his hands moving,dancing leaping and darting, and his body tense, coiled like a spring. Every thing he was, was being put into the song, and he felt himself searching deeper, looking harder for reserves of energy inside himself. He was being drained, weaving parts of himself wholly into the song, vanishing so completely into the music that it was all he was, until he was filling the whole space up with himself, his being bouncing into every corner of the building, spreading and resonating until the whole building quivered with his life and his signed away soul.
The church was turning dark around him, a blackness spreading through the church like ink in water, filling and coating everything, wrapping up his heart and his soul and everything he was until it was all there was and he looked down at his hands, still dancing, still darting over the keys.
And then all was black, a darkness so impenetrable Soul was sure he'd gone blind, but as long as he had his ears still, and as long as he held the image of the piano in his head, knowing that Maka believed in him to do something to save this town, even if all he could do was make bad deals and play the piano, he could still play.
He closed his eyes and it made no difference, his song and his soul still ringing in the darkness.
His heart ached, and he felt empty, but he couldn't possibly be, because still he played, and he played until the song ended, as all songs, did.
And he opened his eyes, turning to look at the others, with the ambitious plan of finding a stick to hit the creature that had crawled out of the ground with.
There was nothing but black, the floor, the walls, the altar, the pew - everything coated in a deep impermeable black. He was panting, out of breath as his eyes adjusted to the scene.
Maka, Kidd, and Father Death were standing in the middle of the aisle, looking terribly confused, which was how Soul felt. He could hear Falada snuffling over to his right, and when he chanced a glance in her direction her was relieved to see that she was not eating the carcass of Medusa. He didn't know where Medusa's body had vanished to, but it was gone, and there was hardly a trace of it, if not for the blood that stained Falada's mouth. She looked a little disappointed as she snuffled at the space the body had been, looking for more tasty human meat.
"What happened?" Soul asked.
"I'm going to have a tough time explaining this one to the bishop," Father Death said, looking around at his all new black church. Soul realised that he wasn't looking through the coin, and that probably meant that just about anyone could see the church's new look.
"We were fighting," Maka said, "And your song was making ring and Asura was shrieking then-"
"Everything just went dark," Kidd said, frowning as he tried to puzzle it out."I thought perhaps I was dead. "
"It was a great deal like being dead," Father Death agreed. "At least, from my experience."
"And everything was black, and Asura and Medusa were both gone," Kidd said.
"Not everything," said Maka, walking over to Soul. She nodded over his shoulder. "Look."
The lovely piano in the corner of the room had turned almost entirely black with the exception of the ebony keys, which had turned a dazzling white.
"The tea chart! Kidd exclaimed, darting outside to see that it had survived. "The outisde is black aswell!"
"Are you okay?" Maka asked Soul. She was bruised and battered, a narrow cut across her cheek leaking blood. She looked much worse than he felt, and he wondered what exactly happened while his back had been turned.
"I guess my hands hurt a little?"
Maka laughed, and Soul felt all the empty, drained places in him start to fill up again.
I may have googled some things. A lot of things.
That brings us to the conclusion of this years resbang! Please leave a review if you have any questions or anything to say at all. I'm so tired. This fc was 8000 words yesterday. Do not write half your resbang in 36 hours.
