Makalyla717: Yeah, I'm not too big on the idea either but I love to mess with people's emotions =P
gothic girl: Thank you, I had fun writing Eibon holding Kid
Princessa de la Luna: Sorry Chapter 25 didn't come out in March! I'll try to keep the chapters long for you all!
Lanny-Sama: Thanks very much!
EikaTsukiyomi: Thanks! I hope I still haven't lost my touch!
A/N: Hey guys, super sorry for not updating this in so long! It's been a bit of a hectic year and I had major writer's block. Anyway, I think this has one or two more chapters. I'm going to update the other chapters once I finish the final chapter.
Shrill giggles filled the Manor as did a woman's coos. Occasionally the woman's voice warbled in a peculiar way and the Manor's atmosphere thickened with madness. When it happened, she felt like someone heavy pushed down on her chest until it was hard to breathe. The madness wavelengths dissipated and the pressure was gone. The three year old Kid didn't know what it was but she did.
It was a warning from Death himself.
For reasons Ophelia did not understand, he began to distance himself. He spent more time at the DWMA than he did at home. He no longer shared their bed with her, his side ice cold when she would wake in the morning. On rare days she may find him in the library or standing over their sleeping boy's little bed. But he never interacted with her. Not since Eibon visited three years ago.
Her lip curled off her lip when she thought the wizard's name. She hated him. She knew he was there to tear her family apart. The family she worked so hard to create! Who was he to do such a thing? She imagined her nails digging into his flesh and ripping him apart. And his soul. She shuddered as she imagined his soul, ancient and wise. She wondered how it would taste…
"Mama?" Ophelia's eyes snapped open and she looked down at her son.
To her alarm, she was gripping his little wrist tight, too tightly and tears were beginning to fill his beautiful eyes. A free pudgy hand was patting her cheek. He had been trying to get her attention for the last couple minutes.
"Mama hurting Kiddo." He whimpered, halfheartedly tugging at his arm.
She immediately released him and scooped him up. "I'm sorry, Kiddo!"
She kissed his bruising wrist, contrition wrapping itself around her heart. As she looked at the three year old, she noticed all the bruises on him. Purple around his neck looked eerily like slim fingers. A bump the size of a golf ball over his right eye, just barely hidden by his hair. She bit her lip. Had she done all that? Why hadn't Death stopped her?
"It okay, Mama." Kid reassured, giving her a toothy smile. It broke her heart to see his cheery face when all she did was hurt him. "Kiddo know Mama hurt."
Alarm flooded her as he rested his head on her breast where her soul lay nestled and gave her a pointed look. He turned himself around so he could grab her hand and began to spin her wedding ring.
She knew, of course, that something was wrong with her. She would have to have nerve damage to not feel it. She just didn't know what was wrong. Maddening thoughts of taking Kid's soul and destroying Death plagued her daily and sleep offered no relief. If anything it got worse at night. She would have nightmares were she would devour the souls of the people of Death City. She tried talking to Death about it but he had completely shut her out. Ophelia never felt so alone.
Kid clambered out of her lap and toddled to his toys. He plopped himself roughly down and stared at his building blocks. His little brow furrowed and he began to carefully build, sliding blocks in place.
"What are you making?" Ophelia inquired.
"Two houses. Kiddo can't make one 'cuz then it don't look right to him." He stated, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth.
Despite her morose mood, a smile teased her mouth. She remembered very long ago Death mentioning the possibility of their child being fixated with organization. Death himself needed things to be organized and symmetrical else he is put in a foul mood that could last for days. It seemed Kid had the same problem.
She got to her feet and brushed her sweatpants off. As she tucked hip length hair behind her ears, she asked, "Kiddo, are you hungry?"
He nodded and paused in his building to look at her. "Can Kiddo have honey nut cheerios?"
She smiled teasingly, "I suppose that's alright. I'll be right back."
Ophelia exited Kid's room and descended the stairs to the kitchen. She went to the cupboard and pulled out Kid's favorite bowl—a baby blue plastic bowl with Death's skull mask surrounding it eight times—and got the cheerios out of the pantry. As she poured some cheerios into the bowl, she became distinctly aware of a pair of eyes on her. She faltered for a moment before resuming what she had been doing. She grabbed Kid's Sippy cup and filled it with milk. She brought his snack upstairs, setting it beside him. He was halfway done with his second house.
"Here you are, sweetheart." She said, gently stroking his hair.
He momentarily forgot building as he grabbed a fistful of cheerios and shoved them into his mouth, feet wiggling in happiness. He said with a full mouth, "Thank you, Mama!"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," she chided softly, "Kiddo, Mama will be right back. She needs to check something. Stay in your room, okay?"
He absentmindedly nodded, too occupied with his snack.
Ophelia calmly walked out of his room and jogged down the stairs toward the front door. Her wavelengths began to spike and she felt a nearby soul.
She didn't even think about the fact she had never been able to feel another person's soul until recently.
She was getting closer. The soul had yet to move. It was irritatingly soothing her wavelengths, something she didn't mind but there was something inside her that hated it. Her feet moved quicker until she was jogging. Her nails began to elongate and her mouth watered.
The soul was still stationary about three meters in front of her. She crouched behind a bush, very reminiscent to a lion hunting her prey. With a snarl, Ophelia leaped out of the bush and onto a soft body.
There was a startled shriek that changed into a scream of pain as Ophelia raked her nails across flesh.
Ophelia sat up in her bed, panting. Her body was covered in a light sheen of cold sweat, her pajama top and bottoms clinging uncomfortably to her skin. She looked around wildly as she tried to center herself. Was she safe?
It was dark in her room and she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was half past midnight. With a deep sigh, she pushed her damp locks out of her face and got out of bed. Her stomach growled. She worriedly wondered if she had fed Kid, but given that he wasn't in here bothering her he must have eaten.
Pain filled her then. With a gasp she fell to her knees. Her head felt like it was about to split open, her spine throbbed, her nails ached. A hunger she had never felt before overcame her and she staggered to her feet. She leaned against the wall for support as she limped out of the room.
The mirror caught her attention. She wasn't alone. Ophelia slowly turned her head to look at her reflection, trying to find the other being in the room with her. She frowned when she felt no other soul than her own. Yet there was obviously something here. It was staring right back at her with horrific glowing amber eyes.
Realization struck her and she let out an animalistic scream.
Spirit was being oddly quiet that day. Usually he was all over the place, showing off pictures of his little Maka. Instead he was silently doing paperwork, seated at the table Death liked to have tea at.
"What's wrong, Spirit? You seem very blue today." He finally asked. The silence was beginning to get to him.
Solemn blue eyes stared up at him. "Something doesn't feel right."
Death tilted his head and body until it was a ninety degree angle. "What do ya mean?"
"I dunno, that's the problem. I just feel like something is going to happen but I don't know what." An edge of frustration filled Spirit's uncharacteristically serious voice.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." It was a lie. Death felt disquieted, too. And he was all too certain what the catalyst for a bad day was going to be.
It was nearing three in the afternoon. He was standing by the mirror, his eyes closed behind the infamous skull mask. For once, he felt almost tired. He still couldn't sleep but he liked to pretend sometimes. Especially when he would lie with Ophelia. He felt odd watching her sleep so he would close his eyes or roll onto his opposite side. But, that had been nearly three years ago.
Since Eibon's visit, he subconsciously began to distance himself from Ophelia and Kid. A part of him knew it was because he was trying to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable day when he would finally have to kill Ophelia. He was hoping distance would make his heard colder toward her, but was unfortunately finding that not to be the case. He still loved her as much as the day they married all those centuries ago. If not more. When he was around her, he kept his mask on. He was hesitant on removing it since he gained a third Line. It only meant one thing: Miata was dead. He didn't mourn her death but he was melancholy for a couple days.
As for Kid, his son barely knew him. On the rare occasion he would go home it would be late and Kid would be in bed. So, he took to watching his son slumber. He looked so much like Death now. His three white Lines of Sanzu wrapped halfway around his skull on the left side. For each Line he connected, Death would die piece by piece. Such was the life of a Reaper.
"Lord Death! Marie's been seriously injured!" Spirit yelled, snapping Death out of his thoughts.
He spun around and saw Stein supporting the young blonde woman, her bloody hand keeping a white handkerchief pressed against her left eye. Her right eye was flooding with tears of pain and her teeth bit into her lip.
"What happened?" He demanded, his silly voice replaced with his gravelly real intonation.
"I-I was keeping an eye on Ophelia like I w-w-was ordered to. She m-must have sensed me a-and…" She trailed off with a choked sob.
Stein kept his firm grip on her upper arms and fixed Death with his serious olive eyes. "Marie told me Ophelia did not appear fully human."
The weight of his words lay heavy in Death's ears. His shoulders slumped beneath his silky robe. It seemed that day had come.
"Stein," he said levelly, "take Marie to Medusa and have her tend to her wounds. See if she can salvage Marie's eye.
The young man nodded once and ushered Marie out of the door, not seeming to mind her leaning against her. Spirit stared at Death with sympathy. "Sir, what do you want to do?"
It wouldn't be wise to attack in broad daylight. And not when Kid was awake.
"We'll leave at midnight."