"Rachel Goodwin."
The sound of her name roused her from her thoughts, lifting her head from the curled up position against the wall. She was trapped in a glass box—the only wall without glass the floor beneath her feet. Around the room, the only things she had was a bed, sink, toilet (surrounded by a wall to allow her some privacy), a table and one chair, and a small slot for food to be sent through. All white. Her eyes were ringed with black from sleep deprivation, giving her the appearance of a thief or a raccoon. Clad in a white hospital gown, stripped of her scythes, and placed in a holding cell, she'd built a fury inside her the past four days of her captivity. Resentment towards—
"There you are, Ms. Rachel. Always good to see a beautiful face," commented a man clad in black with snow-white hair and blood-red eyes. His hair swept to the side to partially cover his right eye, and it was cut at the nape of his neck. The albino wore a simple black, high collared jacket and black trousers.
A menacing glare was shot his way as Rachel looked at him from her bland imprisonment. "Now, now, you should please the hand that feeds you. Otherwise, the consequences may be unfortunate."
Rachel snorted, rolling her eyes indignantly. "Did you get that off a movie? Sorry, Snowflake, I don't 'swing' your way."
Unable to help a smirk, the albino chuckled, "Quite the feisty thing you are. But tell me, do you not swing to my gender or my species?"
"Both, dipstick."
At this, the man couldn't help but laugh, revealing a set of glistening white fangs. Rachel merely stood, snickering at the demon with disgust as she looked at her reflection in her glass container.
"Haha, Ms. Rachel, you have an amusing personality. I shall have most fun being your caretaker these next few weeks of your stay." The man offered a polite smile, though it was unrequited.
"Caretaker or babysitter?" she mumbled, running her hand through disheveled locks of brown hair—the red streak in her bangs starting to fade.
A small chuckle tumbled from his lips as he watched his supernatural captive with growing interest. "Caretaker. I'll leave the creeps downstairs to babysit. Your blue-haired friend has become their favorite."
Without warning, the brunette had crossed her cell in a blink of an eye, hand flying out of the slot where her food was delivered to wrap around the demon's neck and slam his face forwards into the glass with a squirt of blood—holding him there with a deadly grip. Through a venomous hiss, the reaper pressed her face against the glass to stare down the wide, frightened red eyes peering back at her. "You let them touch a single hair on her head, and I will find you. And I swear…I shall kill you wherever you stand."
The albino gasped as he was let go, and then he stumbled backwards, leaving a blood smear on the glass where his nose had been forced into it. "Sh-shit!"
He clutched his newly broken nose as he glared at the reaper looking back at him with a cold, steady countenance. "Damn bitch!"
Rachel only smirked, turning her neck to the demon as she walked towards her plain white bed and lay down. "Give my regards to that back-stabbing bastard you work for." Giving a mock salute, she let out a tiny chuckle as she heard the angry footsteps and slamming of a heavy, metal door.
Alone at last.
Alone with a problem: Hollis.
Her two-toned gaze focused on the ceiling before she let out a deep breath and closed her eyes.
"Don't worry. I'll find you, Hollis. I promise."
Xxx
"Yes, she would be the perfect subject."
A woman in a white trench coat looked from the window above Rachel's cell, her lips caught in an ever-stoic frown. Behind her stood four pairs of glowing red eyes and one set of dual-colored irises (green and yellow)—a set of green and yellow irises to match her own. The man with the cigar was standing behind her on the left, looking from their balcony that was no more than a pitch black box overhanging the room that contained Rachel Goodwin's box. A single window allowed them to watch their captive with amusement, the doctor holding all of her emotions in her lime-green eyes as a select few chuckled at the display they had just witnessed.
"Snuff that out, you know I can't tolerate smoking," growled the woman, glaring back at the man whose cigar was the only source of light in the dark room.
"Yes, milady." Obediently, he took one last draw before sticking it in his ash tray as he let smoke roll out from his nose.
She turned, lab coat fluttering behind her as she left the pitch-black box into the bright white hallway with the simple turn of a knob and opening of a door. The man and those with red eyes followed her in loyal silence.
"Belile, see to Mr. Cain. I would hate it if I had to lose another caretaker because of their intolerance to a new patient," she said, waving her hand dismissively; the woman never bothered to even look over her shoulder.
A boy with black hair nod, red eyes fearful of this woman in front of them all. He bowed, letting the others walk on without him before scampering off to help the demon with a broken nose.
The woman scoffed, adjusting her glasses as she started down the flight of stairs. "You are certain our newest patient will be loyal?"
"Absolutely. Completely submissive," admitted the man with the cigar, clasping his hands behind his back as he followed his boss down the stairs.
The woman nodded, opening a door after she unlocked the door with a simple swipe of her ID card. It lead to a dimly lit room, the only light coming from the glass door across the room. Her high heels clicked on the floor before it died down as she came to a stop and swiped her card over another scanner. The scanner beeped, door hissing as she opened it to reveal a large white laboratory. People in white suits and coats roamed the room, all on various missions. They remained inferior to this group of four, and no one dared to look at them in the eye. It was like the red sea; a wave of people parted in front of them, leaving a path to a door taped with CAUTION and DO NOT ENTER signs. For the final time, the woman swiped her card and opened the door as the small group of four stepped inside.
It was a prison for her lab rats.
A white corridor seemed to go on forever, cells nothing more than white nine-by-nine rooms with a single, glass wall facing inwards towards the plain hallway. Each cell was nothing more than a bed, a toilet, and single roll of toilet paper. Lining the glass walls were touch-screen pads—one for each cell to display the statistics of its appointed prisoner.
Green-yellow eyes darted up from every cell as the woman passed. Some narrowed into deadly, malevolent glares, others widened and wavered with incalculable fear, and others were simply blank stares, void of any life or spirit—broken stares reflecting the broken minds of their owners.
All but one set of dual-colored eyes.
Hollis Harvey didn't look up, huddled in the corner of her room on her bed and crying with fear. Where was she? Where was her mentor? Was she even coming for her? Did she even care? The young Shinigami was frightened, scared and alone in her cell as she shook with silent sobs—tears hidden in her hands. They were playing with her, torturing her. It had only been four days, but it felt like an eternity in this actual ephemerality.
The woman in her white lab coat peered steadily at the sobbing reaper as she typed in the four-digit code to open the sliding glass door into the room. As the doorway opened, Hollis looked up with wide, frightened eyes before trying to make out who it was. Her glasses had broken when they'd taken her, leaving her blind in this terrifying world she was trapped in.
"Take her," commanded the woman, gesturing forwards as the three pairs of glowing red eyes stepped into the room.
She could not scream, for she did not remember how as she fought against them feebly. The blue-haired reaper had not been fed, already deteriorating despite her status as an immortal goddess of Death—realizing she was not as immortal as they had once told them. The daily testing they did upon her helpless being told her they were likely just as frail as humans.
Nevertheless, she was over-powered, hands handcuffed behind her back as they forced her to her feet, and the tiny Hollis was lead out of her room. It was nothing but a white blur to her, green and yellow eyes darting about the hallway they lead her down. Everything happening to Hollis reminded the young reaper of a dog going on a long walk—naïve, not knowing what to expect, but barely managing to follow obediently wherever her masters lead her.
After four days of her imprisonment, however, she knew exactly where they were going to: the room with the silver table. She could hear the heavy metal door opening, feel the hands pushing her down onto a cold, silver blur before uncuffing her hands. Like a ritual, she always fought the moment her hands were free. This time she'd managed to leap across the table, grabbing one of the syringes and managing to stab one of the figures with red blurs on their faces. It did nothing to them as they managed to restrain her again, pushed back down onto the table as she tried to fidget from their grips. Cold, metal clasps locked around her wrists and ankles as the hands left, leaving her completely helpless to whatever they'd do to her today.
Taking a deep breath, her eyes darted around the room for the blur of purple, white, and green that always came to see her before the torture began. Hollis could see her from where she lay, trying to mouth a silent plea that was usually ignored.
Then there began those slow, steady footsteps towards her as heavy boots marched her direction. She would know that voice anywhere as it spoke to her—that slight Cockney accent and smell of clover brushing her ear. "Good morning, Ms. Harvey. Always good to see a young recruit working hard. Have you been a good girl today?"
A single, salty tear fell down her cheek, whimpering as she flinched under the large hand touching her cheek. "Shhh, shhh, it's okay, Ms. Harvey. Ladies shouldn't cry." A thumb ran along her high-cheekbone, brushing away the single tear and smearing it on her pale skin. "Do you know who I am?" Hollis nodded slowly, her throat choked up as more tears of complete fear welled up in her eyes. "Then you know I will always be watching if you step out of line. You see, my friend here thinks you will be a great asset to us. Can we trust that you will be completely loyal?"
Hollis hesitated, squinting slightly at the blur of yellow, black, and green that hovered above her like a giant. She knew she couldn't trust this man now, but she had before. Why couldn't she learn to trust him again? After all, he was the one who had given her so much, offered her redemption at life and placed her upon the list of future reapers after she'd died at the age of fifteen. She was nothing special, even as a human or reaper. She had been nothing more than a small apprentice seamstress with a strange hair color and the inability (or unwillingness) to speak. That also led to another problem: how would she find Rachel? How would she be able to escape this and tell her coworkers they were being round up like animals and treated like rats? Only a select few could speak sign-language, and she trusted only one of them:
William T. Spears.
No, it wouldn't work. He was too loyal to this man standing above her, threatening to have his way with her again like he had done once in just these past four days. She couldn't stand it, she had to get out. No matter what they asked her to do, as long as that meant a chance to find her mentor again. With a reluctant nod, Hollis gulped and bit her lip as another tear fell—a tear of shame.
"Alright. Caesar, free her, we can talk about the terms of her surrender to the cause over a cup of tea. Come on now, no need to be uncivilized," said the man, clapping his hands as a demon stepped forwards, uncuffing Hollis with a sneer as the reaper slowly sat up.
Hollis sniffled, wiping away her tear with wrists burned and reddened from the cuffs they used on her soft, delicate skin daily. In physical appearance, she was the same age she had died: fifteen. Her blue hair that hadn't grown an inch was now matted and sticking in every direction as she tried to calm herself and look at least a little more presentable. The man put his large hand on her gown-clad back, guiding her gently off the table with the strangest subtle gesture of kindness she had seen in the last four days of living hell. It made her feel safe, like she could trust him again, and she found herself hiding her face in his chest (more like his stomach or ribs with their enormous difference in height) in a childish gesture of seeking comfort. Two strong arms gave her that comfort for but a few moments before they left, gently taking her by the shoulders and starting to slowly push her away.
"Now, now, that was very unladylike. Let us get you cleaned up, Ms. Harvey. You know you always need to look your best for business," he said, wrapping an arm around her with a sly smirk as he guided her towards the door.
Hollis knew that she shouldn't…this man had kidnapped her and her mentor and stolen much more than her virginity. But what choice did she have? He was offering a way out of this hell…Was it worth it to make a deal with the devil? 'Yes,' she decided, her mentor needed her. It was only temporary; she could find a way out.
Right?
Xxx
They sat in a bland office, a single desk in the middle of the grey room and screen making up the northern wall—the screen made to look like a window looking over London. Hollis sat on the opposite side of the black oak desk from the man with the cigar. She was clad in her former uniform once again, playing with the rose button on her fingerless gloves, a present from another coworker by the name of Chester Lee Smiths for Christmas just last year. The scars were hidden beneath the clothes that hid most of the skin on her body. However, they would always remain in her mind; she would always know where they were…that she carried them. They were her newfound burden, a burden she never wanted to ever have. Perhaps in a few years, decades, even centuries, she would let someone else see those scars, but now she couldn't even stand the thought of being touched. It was a reminder of the hell she had just endured, and she wanted no part in it. Now she could relate to the stores Rae had once told her about the brunette's mentor, Grell Sutcliff. About his nightmares of ghosts of hands gliding across his skin and touching him in ways Hollis would never dream of. Or could she? After what the man had done to her, how he had looked at her like a conquest, a meal, and took her against her will. She'd kill him. Despite her gentle nature, that sick, disgusting man was the man she would reap vengeance upon someday. No one else, she wouldn't let anyone else have him.
In the corner of the room she could make out the form of a demon, the one that hand uncuffed her. If she remembered correctly, 'He' had called him Caesar. He being the man with the cigar that chewed on that clover-scented stick in his mouth; the tip burned as he drew in a breath and exhaled smoke from his nose. The demon was unlike any other demon she had ever met. He was tall, handsome with short, thin silver strands for hair and eyes so red she wondered for a moment if the man could have cried blood. Like the man, Caesar was clad in black suit, though it was unbuttoned to reveal a silver waistcoat and tie over a white dress shirt. His arms were crossed over his chest, watching her intently as she turned her attention back to the man in front of her—gazing solely at the man across the desk from her.
Martin Riesenberg.
"Ms. Harvey," he began, meeting her gaze calmly as he leaned back in his chair, "we both know you're very smart lass. I've heard you scream before, so that rules out mental problems or vocal deformities. Therefore, I must conclude that you have selective mutism. Am I correct?"
Hollis gave a shy nod, watching the other warily, but at the same keeping sight of Caesar in the corner of her eye. He had given her no reason to trust him, especially after all he'd done. She couldn't afford to let her guard down. Green eyes met green eyes, neither wavering as they watched each other skeptically.
Martin held a cocky smirk on his face, cigar pushed to the corner of his mouth as he spoke. "So, that leaves you with a simple choice. You see, Ms. Harvey, we are running a very delicate operation here. If word gets out, you'll lose that pretty little head. Also, I do believe we have something in our possession you want. Right again?"
Hollis tensed, eyes narrowing as she balled her gloved hands into fists; Caesar merely smirked were he stood.
"For such a small, innocent thing, you can have quite the temper. I like that about you, Hollis, it is a very…sexy trait to have. Don't worry; we haven't harmed a hair on her head…yet. What happens to her rests solely on your shoulders, Ms. Harvey," explained the giant reaper, blowing smoke through slightly parted lips as he snuffed out his cigar in an ash tray. "I would hate it if she received the same treatment you have experienced during your stay with us. We are not barbarians, I would prefer if you did not anger me and those who run our intricate program."
Standing, Martin walked across his office to stand in front of the glass window that was actually a screen imitating a window overlooking London. "Now, down to business. Naturally, I shall not open the details of our goal to you, but I believe I should shine some light as to what you'll be doing.
"In return for the protection of Rachel E. Goodwin, your mission is quite simple. Over the course of the next two months, I want you to form a list of the top sixty officers you think are the most loyal to the British Dispatch. I want a detailed report on the top twenty. Their dreams, their hopes, their fears, what they eat, how they eat it, how they walk, how they talk, their daily routine, even their favorite color—I want to know everything. Your job, in sense, is to choose sixty and stalk twenty. Sixty days should be enough. This should be a simple task for you. Do you understand?"
The nod he received was slow and unsure. Hollis could not quite contemplate why such things dealt with what they were doing. In fact, she didn't even know enough to know what they were doing. There was just one person in her mind: Rae.
Sure, her mentor was usually nonchalant, laid back, even frustrating at times, but it was against the blue reaper's nature to leave someone she cared about behind. She's give her life for any of them—William, Grell, Elzabeth, Chester, Ronald, even that cranky nurse, Brooke Easton, who was far worse than William or Elzabeth could ever dream to be. Anyone she'd ever met, she had a childish attachment to—permanently stuck at fifteen. Just like Elzabeth was forever sixteen (technically, as it was nine years until after her death, at seven years old, that she stopped growing). Perhaps time had made them age in the mind, but never in their hearts. That was the one thing, Hollis believed, no one could ever take away from them. Well, unless someone like, literally ripped it from their chests and- NO! No, no, no, no, no! She couldn't think about that. She had to focus on the task at hand!
"Good. I like you, Ms. Harvey. Do not make me regret the faith I have in you," he muttered, nodding his head towards Caesar who was standing near the door.
Hollis, thinking it was her cue to leave, stood and bowed towards the other reaper. She then turned, heading towards the door when she heard his voice behind her. "I hope you enjoy your nap, Miss Hollis."
The last thing Hollis saw was the pale hand balled into a fist coming towards her face and those dark crimson eyes. Then…there was nothing.
Martin snickered at the Shinigami on the floor. "Caesar, you didn't have to make such a mess. I expect you to cleanse the blood off my carpet."
"I apologize, Master. It shan't happen again." Caesar bowed, turning to pick the young girl up off the floor.
The blonde Shinigami looked back towards the screen, polychromatic eyes meticulously running over every line and crevice of the image before him. "You know, the things we look for the most we can never find. Isn't it strange how we can find more things accidently than we can purposefully?"
Caesar looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow as he paused to gaze curiously at the Death God standing nearby. "Sir?"
"Nothing, Caesar. Do not mind my ramblings. I was merely thinking about out deal," he murmured, sighing heavily.
Caesar frowned deeply, vermillion eyes narrowing. "You will tell me where he is, Martin, otherwise you won't have our support."
"I wouldn't dream of having doubts, Lu-" Martin was cut off by the vehement snarl directed towards him as a warning not to utter the true name of the demon that served him. Adjusting his tie, the reaper corrected himself. "Caesar. When you finish your end of the deal, I will tell you where Cassius is."
Caesar hissed, eyes glowing orange as his pupils narrowed into reptilian slits. "What makes you think I won't continue working for you after I've found him?"
"Because I know you, Caesar, my dear king. Power is your greatest lust, o' demon of pride. Your ego will be your downfall. Cassius is just as strong as you, Caesar. Surprise was the only thing that killed him last time. He's the Angel of Death, I'm afraid I will lose my most valuable asset should you confront him before it's over," explained the blond.
"I'M AS STRONG AS HE IS?!" he snapped, taking a threatening step forwards. "I KILLED HIM! I AM STRONGER! HIS HEAD ROLLED DOWN THE HILL FROM THE BANE OF MY BLADE! I AM THE KING OF DEMONS! IF IT WASN'T FOR THE GODS, THAT BASTARD WOULD STILL BE DEAD AND I WOULDN'T BE CAST AWAY! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE ON THE GODS BY KILLING HIM FIR-!"
"Not yet you won't." Caesar was silenced by the long handled axe held horizontally towards the demon's throat; the edge pressed against Caesar's tender flesh. "Our deal was the service to our cause from you and the demons of hell in exchange for the location of Cassius Montgelle after we completed our task. Not before."
Martin lowered his Death Scythe, letting it dissipate into thin air as he stared coldly at the demon to his right—the screen to his left. Caesar, in turn, bowed humbly with a most displeased scowl. "Please forgive my arrogance, Master."
"You are forgiven, Caesar. Please, continue what you were going to do with Miss Hollis. Make sure there is no link between us and them. You know where to place her; you only have two hours left. Do not be late," instructed the blonde, nodding towards the unconscious figure on the floor.
Bowing towards the Shinigami in front of him, Caesar turned, picking Hollis up obediently before leaving Martin alone in the plain office.
Martin turned, looking at the screen of London with an almost serene countenance before tapping on the image with his the forefinger of his right hand. Beneath his finger was a building with a purple sign…adorned with spider webs as if it had been abandoned for years.
"You think you can hide, Cassius, but we will find you. We will always find you."
Xxx
This is the longest chapter I have written in my entire life. Well, that's a lie. My longest chapter was like 6,000 words, but it could have been split into two chapters if I wanted it to be. Just like this one. I could have kept doing my 2,000 word per chapter thing, and then I looked at all of the people on fanfiction. The greats like Lord Onisyr, StickieBun, and Maverrat who are putting out stories with 4,000 words per chapter. They'd have nearly 300,000 words a STORY. That is my goal, to make this like a book. Somewhere around 30-60 chapters and 300,000 words. I'm already at 20,000 and I'm only on chapter 7 (8 if you count the prologue). That means I'd have to have 105 chapters to make it. So, I'm going to make my chapters long like this one. Yes, it may take longer to post new chapters, but I believe it is worth it to reach my goal. A writer's job is to entertain both themselves and their audience. They not only have to enjoy it, but they have to be good enough for others to enjoy it as well. That is my own philosophy. If you believe you aren't good enough to be a writer, let someone else be the judge of it. But, I will tell you this thing: I used to think I was literally the worst writer on planet earth. I wouldn't let a single person read anything that I wrote. And then I got to 6th grade, and my teacher told me something that gave me the inspiration to truly chase my dream. She looked at my story I wrote, and she then looked me in the eye and said: "You have a talent. There's a long way to go, and a lot of improvement to make. You might not always achieve your goals, and that's okay. Life is filled with mistakes, don't be afraid to make them. Don't be afraid to share them with others. I know with hard work and determination you can go a long way. I can tell you will go miles and miles, but you can't go far if all you do is hide behind a notebook and close the door to others. A writer is nothing without three things: a mind, a heart, and the willingness to please others. If this is what you want to do, write something every day, and lock it in a box. By the end of this year, open the box and read the first paper you ever wrote and the last. And you'll notice a difference. People are always changing, and you can only go up from here. Chase your dreams, don't give up. I believe in you."
She retired that year.
I will never forget her or her words, and she gave me the inspiration to continue what I love to do and to share it with other people. For all you people reading this who want to be writers, but never had the courage to let others in, copy that sentence and read it aloud to yourself. Let it inspire you like it inspired me. Let me be the person you'll never forget, even though you probably won't ever know me in real life. Hey, if I, a young girl who has yet to even graduate HIGH SCHOOL can accomplish this, I bet that you, the reader, will accomplish great things if you just TRY.
Enough of my little monologue there.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I know a lot of you have been waiting for this chapter for a pretty long time. Like...since this first came out in MARCH. It's been like...7 months. And guess what, we have SEVEN (technically, 8) chapters! I might not post for a while, but by Christmas, we will have 2 more chapters. My plan is to post one on Thanksgiving, and one on Christmas. Also, there will be an exciting new twist with Elzabeth (we all love William's little mini-me!...at least I do) in the next chapter. No, no, it's not the RonaldxElzabeth like we all want to see, but it might hint towards it. Also, if you guessed Martin Riesenberg on the poll on my page, you were right, clap your hands, do a dance, whatever. Here's your prize *throws muffin at you*. And now a lot of you are mad because you just found out he isn't the one actually running the thing. Too bad, that probably won't be revealed for a little while, but I'll make sure to throw plenty of hints at you along the way ;)
First of all, I want to say thank you to PrimeLaughter for doing all the editing and revising for my past chapters. She's been a HUGE help to everything that I do, and I doubt this story would be any good without her. So give a hand to her. Second, I want to thank crazigirl for allowing me permission to use her cute little OC Chester who shall become much more important in later chapters and will make his debut performance in chapter 9. So look forwards to that. Finally, I want to say thank you to everyone who favorited my story. You guys are the reason I keep writing and especially thank you to crazigirl and Riannedogs for constantly giving me the reviews that make my chapters come so much faster. If I get at least 3 more reviews by Thanksgiving, I will give you guys 2 more chapters instead of one.
Alright, enough of my ramblings, I look forwards to the next chapter like I think you all do to. Happy Halloween~