Hey everyone...remember me?
Well, I'm just going to leave this here, and beg forgiveness. I would promise more, but my heath is not the best for the foreseeable future. So, though I will have a lot of free time, I probably wont have the energy to write a lot. It sounds silly I know, but...yeah, it's true.
My other excuses' are writer's block and forgetfulness...for like a year.
Anyway, this is my Christmas gift to you, and I'll definitely try to update before this time next year! I'm so sorry.
Faye walked leisurely through the corridors, dragging Maka in her wake like an oversized doll. Behind her the halls were filled with broken bodies, all subjected to the crushing waves of shadows Faye emitted with every step.
She burst out of the entrance hall, and onto the sun-dappled steps. As the bright light hit her she hissed in painful harmony with herself, shielding her eyes until she could continue down the stairs. She skipped to the centre of the courtyard, looking for the entire world like a demented, oversized child with a giant toy.
The shadows hadn't had this much fun in a long time. It had been so long since there had been fresh blood spilt. So long since there had been sacrifice. Their vessel fobbed them off on graveyards, age-old musty deaths that were a weak as spider webs, nourishing as sawdust. She forced them to stay quiet, repressed their suggestions, their cravings. Until now.
They were disappointed in her. She would've been, should have been the ideal vessel, she was born for the part. It could've been perfect, if she hadn't developed this...reasoning, these emotions. The court had become too lenient, they had left her alone too long, let her think. Let her escape. The shadows growled in frustration as they dropped Maka. Faye's mind made them think, too.
They looked down at Faye's sleeping friend. Well, if they weren't going to be served sacrifices on a platter anymore, they would just have to make their own.
This one was tough, a fighter. She would put up a struggle, all the way to the very end. Her death would be delicious, her pride broken, her last moments full of hopelessness, anger and despair. The shadows watched over Maka, grinning wide enough to split Faye's lip. Oh yes, it had been a while.
Crona stared blankly at the heavy double doors as students around him slowly regained consciousness. He was in shock, his mind unable to process what just happened. An entire legion of meisters brought to their knees, their strongest dragged away as a trophy. The hall was now lined with rows of them, the few uninjured students who knew first aid moved among them, attending to the wounded as best they could with strips of cloth and soothing words.
At his feet lay Soul. Crona was waiting for him to wake, hoping that his panic, which was unavoidable, would snap him out of this trance. How could it have happened? What was Faye? There was a moaning at his feet and Soul struggled to his knees, blood seeping sluggishly from his wounds. He coughed, and something black spattered against the flagstones. Crona shuddered and crouched beside his friend, helping him to his feet.
Soul looked blearily around at the recuperating students, searching for the meister that should be at his side. Clutching Crona's arm, he got shakily to his feet, his face becoming more and more panicked as he looked around.
"C-Crona... where is Maka?" he asked groggily. Crona looked at him, and his stomach lurched when he saw the worry in his eyes. He didn't want to answer, couldn't handle being the one to tell him. It was his fault after all; he had brought Faye here, brought her into their lives.
Soul grabbed Crona by the shoulders and looked him in the eye.
"Tell me where my partner is," he whispered, baring sharp teeth. Crona's knees buckled. He was a head taller than Soul, but right now the look in the weapon's eye promised death if he didn't get an answer.
"S-s-she t-took her...Faye took her, Soul," he whimpered. Crona winced as Soul dug his nails into his shoulders, dragging Crona closer to him.
"This is your fault," he hissed, nose to nose with Crona "If anything's happened to her, I'll-I'll..." he trailed off, leaving the threat unfinished. A part of Crona sneered at him, this weapon, barely able to stand on his feet, threatening him. If he stepped away, Soul would fall on his face; his threat would mean nothing at all. Soul was so weak now he probably wouldn't be able to stop Crona from throwing him to the ground.
"You know you could," whispered a voice in his head, "That weapon is nothing without his precious partner..." And it was true, Crona realised."You could rip Soul to shreds, and nobody would be able to stop you, nobody-"
Soul leaned heavily against Crona, and suddenly his mind was clear again, the voice faded. He supported his friend, letting the albino gather his strength while he quietly freaked out at the thoughts that had just filled his head. He hadn't felt like that in years, and that wasn't Ragnarok. The little demon was blunt and rude, nothing more really. This voice was different, snide and powerful. It coiled around his mind, like a snake. Crona shivered, he hated snakes.
Soul pushed him away now, giving him a glare that Crona barely registered. The madness that had descended upon him was gone. It had fled, like a criminal caught in the act. It hadn't felt part of him, like the old whispers had been, like Ragnarok was.
He shivered and decided to follow Soul, who was eyeing up the doors thoughtfully. He was refusing to be helped by any of the first-aiders, and Crona knew Maka would get really annoyed if he let Soul do anything stupid.
"That's if she's still alive, dipshit," squeaked Ragnarok at the back of his mind. Crona jumped, he kept forgetting about his weapon. He seemed to be content to let Crona mess up on his own these days, although Crona did hear giggling in his head sometimes during class. He often wondered if the demon could hear all his thoughts.
"No I can't, dumbass."
Crona started again, almost yelping at the sudden intrusion in his train of thought. There was a prickling at the base of his spine and Ragnarok formed, grabbing fistfuls of Crona's hair and giving them a good tug.
"That stuff's like your 'public' thoughts, stuff you'd tell anyone if they asked what you were thinking, y'know? Not that anyone asks you anything, freak." He prodded Crona in the face as if to prove his point. Crona shied away.
"Ragnarok..." he groaned, trying to push the weapon away, a feat which was completely impossible, but as much a part of the routine as the tormenting.
"I can't hear the dirty thoughts you think about that crazy shadow chick, but I can pretty much guess, you perv!" he cried, grabbing Crona's nose. Crona fought back, trying not to draw attention, which is pretty difficult when you've got a screaming demon attached to your back.
"I- don't think dirty thoughts! I-I'd never think about her like that! Get off, Ragnarok, I can't deal with bruises on my face!" he cried, waving his hands desperately above his face. They were still struggling when Soul charged past, almost knocking them to the ground. The pair stopped and watched him launch himself at the doors. He was inches from them when they swung outward, sending him crashing to the ground.
Crona cringed, hearing the resounding crack as Soul hit the floor. Maka was going to be mad at him.
Maka groaned as she came to, squinting at the blindingly blue sky. A shadow loomed over her, and Maka vaguely recognized its' outline.
"Faye?" she mumbled. Her jaw ached. She couldn't remember how she got here, why she had just woken up on a warm stone floor, outside. The shadow above her came into focus, and Maka saw Faye's face. She was smiling, her eyes hidden by a shadow.
"Maka! You scared us!" it was Faye's voice, bright and brittle as polished glass. She never stopped smiling the entire time she talked, and held a hand out to Maka as she spoke. Maka sat up, taking Faye's hand.
"Ugh..." she groaned, holding a hand to her pounding head. She felt like she had been slammed against a wall, and then dragged through a briar bush, backwards. She looked down at her clothes, ripped and torn, and blinked; perhaps she had. Something warm was trickling between her fingers and her forehead felt sticky. She looked at her palm; it was coated in bright, red blood, contrasting sharply against her white gloves.
She looked up in shock, what was going on? Faye still hadn't let go of her other hand, and was still smiling sweetly, not saying a word. Her back was to the sun, her face in shadow, apart from her smile. It seemed frozen on her face.
"What happen to me? Are the others alright?" she asked worriedly, trying to pull her hand away from Faye's so she could stand. Faye tightened her grip, saying nothing. A giggle escaped her frozen smile.
Maka looked at her hand, and the way Faye's nails were digging into the flesh of her wrist. A feeling of dread began to stir in the pit of her stomach, and a memory flashed before her eyes. Mad laughter. Searing pain as shadows tore through her body, losing Soul as she fell.
She glared up at Faye. The girl had tilted her head, and Maka could see the bottomless, coal-black eyes glittering at her. Her smile was now so wide it split her face in two.
Fear spiked into anger and Maka tried to tear her hand away from the monster. It seemed Faye was expecting this and a sleeve of shadows slid down her arm and wrapped around Maka's.
Before she had time to think, Maka found herself flying through the air and slamming to the ground at the other side of the courtyard with an almighty CRACK!
The shadows giggled as Maka hit the ground, watching the flagstone crack beneath her. Flicking their arm like a whip, they threw her in the air again, bringing her down on the other side of the yard just as hard as last time. Again and again, Maka was thrown against the stone, and it was only once the shadows heard a crack of broken bones did they stop. They were only just beginning to play, they didn't want to stop.
They walked over to the crater in which Maka lay, and looked down on her as a mother might look upon her sleeping child.
Maka attempted to get up, limbs shaking. She couldn't put pressure on her left leg, even moving caused sharp pain to shoot through it. But that only made her angrier. She spat at Faye, who raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"You're not playing fair," she hissed at the giggling Faye. The young woman smirked, making a helpless gesture with her hands. They were amazed that Maka was still able to speak.
"We're not playing anything, Maka," they smiled, tilting Faye's head, "We're killing you. Was that not obvious?"
Maka clenched her fists, willing herself to step towards the girl. Her mind was spinning with tactics, unfortunately each plan had a "but" stopping it.
She could distract the girl and run, but she couldn't even walk. If she had Soul she could fight, escape, but she didn't have Soul.
"A fight to the death should be honourable!" she cried, hoping, somehow that this twisted psycho had some sense of decency, that she might have some semblance of a soul that would grant a final wish.
The shadows stared at Maka, considering her situation. The girl could barely stand, and her will was almost broken, they could feel it. This wasn't a fight, not in their eyes. But perhaps letting her fight and killing her that way would be more fun. Adding adrenaline and bloodlust to her death would make it even more delicious.
"A fight it shall be then," they smiled, "but let's make sure you're prepared."
With a flick of her wrist, Faye sent a shadow zooming towards Maka. The meister flinched, bracing herself for the searing edge of the darkness, but the shadow wound itself around her leg instead. Maka hissed in pain when she felt the bones of her leg grate together, but realised that Faye had set them in a splint. Maka looked down at her leg, shocked, when she saw another sudden movement in her peripherals.
Turning, she threw her hands out, and her fingers closed around cold metal. Blinking, she studied the weapon she now held. It was a long black pole, deathly cold and much lighter than it should be. A blade twice the size of Soul glinted maliciously in the sunlight. The air seemed to mist around it, the chill seeping into her bones.
Faye grinned at her, like she had just given her the best gift anyone could ask for.
"Well? Do you like it?" Faye giggled, clapping her hands. She beckoned to Maka, walking backwards, into the centre of the courtyard, raising her hands above her head. The sky darkened and shadows stretched across the yard, rippling and bubbling, coiling around Faye to form a long pole, etched with ominous, glowing symbols. It ended with a sharp, twisting spear head, and shadows rolled in a wave from its base as it clinked softly against the stone.
Maka lowered herself into a crouch, waiting for Faye to make the first move. The smile on her opponents face made her painfully aware how unevenly matched they were, that, unless help got here in time, Maka was going to die. Faye gripped her lance tightly, and started to stalk towards Maka, chuckling in anticipation.
Closing her eyes, Maka summoned soul detect. There was no point really, but Maka wanted to see how dark, how twisted the girl before her really was. Things about Faye's behaviour, her way of speaking, were not making sense.
It was not what she expected. Faye's soul was pure and white, shivering in the centre of her chest. It looked sad, scared and much smaller than it should have been. Faye was now bearing down on her, and in her presence the air seemed to grow darker.
Twirling the lance above her head, Faye sent it hissing down towards Maka, who blocked, feeling the force of the blow reverberate through her body. She was still confused about the soul. It couldn't belong to this black eyed creature, could it?
Maka was forced to her knees, Faye leaning so hard on her that they were almost nose to nose, Faye's black eyes and manic grin taking up her vision. Her arms were beginning to shake under the weight, when a movement behind Faye caught her eye.
She hadn't noticed the darkness that had cloaked them, or the wind that ruffled her fringe. She glanced up, and nearly dropped her guard in shock. Above her, big as a house, was a soul. it was black, made up of screaming sprits that twisted around each other like snakes. It was like a cocoon that closed around them both, shutting the rest of the world out.
She looked at Faye, aghast. The girl chuckled, stepping back from Maka, only to roundhouse kick her in the chest a moment later, sending her sprawling across the stones.
Her soul detect blinked out, and Faye walked towards her, passing her weapon from hand to hand. Maka struggled to stand. Two souls. No, more than two. Hundereds, in one body. She had never seen more than one soul another person, apart from Crona, ever. And didn't Ragnarok used to control Crona, basically?
Maka tested her leg, and swung the scythe above her head. Running toward Faye, she swung the scythe towards her. Faye stood, making no movement to block or doge. Her soulless eyes watched as the blade came hissing through the air.
The knife edge was inches from Faye when Maka felt extreme pain shoot up her arms. Gasping, she was forced to stop by the weapon itself. Faye raised an eyebrow mockingly at her, and Maka looked in horror down at her hands. Thick, black spikes stuck up through the back of her hands, rivulets of crimson of blood dripping off her fingers.
The scythe disappeared, slipping like mist between her fingers, and then the razor-sharp point of Fayes lance was pressed up against her neck, the cold tip cutting into the soft skin of her neck.
The cold that radiated from the lance spread like a poison through Maka's veins, slowing her heart so it felt heavy in her chest, causing her knees to buckle so the weapon pushed further into her flesh. She could feel the blood beginning to trickle down her neck, seeming boiling hot against her frigid body. She gulped at the air, craving warmth.
The shadows smiled at her, lapping up her life as it left her body. They could barely taste it yet and it was already divine, full of terror and sadness, just as they hoped for. They prepared to slit Maka's throat, to fully devour her death, but all of a sudden, there was another source of what they were looking for. Something, raging, boiling, made up of everyone's greatest fear. Something better than a thousand deaths could be.
The shadows dropped Maka to the ground and turned, Faye's face full of wonder and awe, as the Grim Reaper landed in the courtyard.
His mask, usually so jolly and grandfatherly was cold, and full of rage. He held no weapon but power radiated off him.
Anyone else would only see a grim-face lord of death facing a trembling girl, but shadow-Faye saw, and felt so much more. She could feel the waves of death pouring from the tall figure, causing goosebumps along her arms and hair to rise on her neck. She took a hesitant step towards him, dropping the lance, which evaporated in a poisonous hiss.
Death looked over the courtyard, at the broken, bleeding form of Maka, over to the door of the school where bodies were visible in the hall, and the girl with the soulless eyes that stood before him.
When he spoke, his tone was full of deep sorrow, echoing across the courtyard.
"Child...what have you done?
Well, that's all for now, I'll try to have the next one up soon!
Please review, its helpful to see what you guys think and feel, and reviews make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Which taken literally would be a really weird feeling.
Thanks for sticking with us and Happy Christmas or whatever :)
Also, I'm sorry if the her/they/shadows/Faye majig got confusing, but its confusing anyway.