A/N: Hey everyone I am so happy and grateful for all the reviews and input everyone has given me so far. You are all wonderful for helping me through this process of bettering myself and this collection of fiction we have here. I do have some great work ahead and there is a little foreshadowing that you might be able to pick up on with what happened in the previous chapters and this chapter. I know it has been a little longer since my last update and to be honest it may take even longer with my next chapter. I really apologize for that and I will give this story as much attention as I can. I am currently about to enter another transition in my life to my professional field, who knows one day I might fly one of you around if you choose a certain airline in the southern U.S.
The Devil in Each of Us
The eastern horizon slowly gave way to the rising sun as a new day came forth. Its rays raced across the surface of the grassy flat lands and were only momentarily hindered by the low rolling hills that surrounded Rabona. Their warm glow finally met the eastern face of Rabona's elegant cathedral walls allowing the many stained glass windows to illuminate their beauty to anyone inside.
It had been as if Clare had been drowning for the last twenty years as she suddenly and violently erupted from her sleep with a deep gasp. Beads of sweat crowned her brow and slicked her hair. Out of instinct she sat up and quickly grabbed the hilt of her claymore ready for a fight. And then reality set in as she scanned her surroundings. She found herself right where she left off, resting against a pew facing the eastern windows, waiting for dawn.
"Christ Clare you scared the shit out of me!" Helen fired back equally loud at Clare's sudden fright. She was already on her feet with blade drawn and breathing heavy. "You okay?" She questioned genuinely. Nothing. "Clare?" Helen raised her voice.
"Uh…yeah, yeah I'm fine, just had a terrible nightmare." Clare replied quickly snapping out of her trance. Helen walked over anyway just to be sure. She lazily made her way directly in front of Clare and crashed to the floor, still fatigued from her rude and sudden awakening.
"Bad dreams huh?" Helen asked halfheartedly as she rubbed her face trying to wake her tired self-up. "Well, did you kick whoever's ass it was?"
"No, it wasn't like that" Clare responded plainly as her gaze shifted to the ground. It was apparent to Helen that whatever it was had really shook her.
"Hey, don't be all gloomy, it was just a dream. Sheesh if you're going to be like this I might as well get back to sleeping." Helen gestured sarcastically as she kicked her leg over to Clare's own trying to get a smile out of her dreariness.
"You're right, dreams are dreams and now we can get this rescue underway." Clare stated confidently as a small trace of happiness glowed around her eyes.
"Yep, it's about that time." Helen stated as she offered a hand to Clare, bringing her to her feet. They both dusted themselves off and quietly walked over to the front of the bright marble pulpit. It was a measure of both beauty and dreadfulness. It reminded Clare of the great halls within the many castles in each of the larger villages she had visited. Many times she was invited into these massive estates to meet with her clients. Simply walking in them conjured feelings of safety from their sheer and daunting size. But the low light seemed to steal away those feelings and replace them with dread and abandonment.
Miria was sitting on the steps leading up to the pulpit. "How long you been up captain?" Helen asked directing Miria's attention away from whatever she had been staring at.
"All night." Miria stated as she drew a deep breath bringing her posture upright. "We still have a lot of work ahead of us." She redirected her eyes addressing Clare. "I know each of you have things you would like to attend to, old faces to see again, but I need you to stay here for a while longer until the Rabona guard can finish the rescue effort and begin repairing this city." Both Helen and Clare nodded in acknowledgment. "Daylight is already here, wake the others. Clare, find commander Galk and organize our efforts with his men."
"This is going to be fun!" Helen grinned mischievously. Both Miria and Clare raised a curious eyebrow at Helen's over joyous reaction to waking up her comrades. Clare shook her head at Helen's immaturity as she turned towards the exit of the chapel passing by the rows of pews as she did. She didn't make it halfway to the old wooden gate before she heard Helen wake Tabitha out of her sleep. She just shoved Tabitha right off the pew letting her fall to the ground. Of course midway through her free fall her eyes went just as wide as her mouth, screaming as she accelerated to the ground.
"Damn it Helen, what is wrong with you!" Tabitha raged as she rubbed her injured shoulder from the fall. Helen enjoyed her pranks maybe a little too much. She was laughing so hard she could hardly stand. A pause and then a well earned sigh escaped her lips. "Who's next?" she asked herself deviously and then she saw her and relished the thought. She had always loved every instance she could get the better Deneve. She was her polar opposite, and now she had a chance to get at her.
Helen slowly and cautiously scooted next to Deneve who also sat asleep with her back upright, not too dissimilar from sleeping against their claymores. Helen could barely contain her excitement as she continued ever closer to Deneve. Almost there, just a couple more seconds and she would shove her off her seat scaring her out of her dream. Helen's arm slowly crept its way just inches from Deneve's back. She had her now, there was nothing that could make this moment more perfect as she reared her hand back ready to give Deneve her wake up call. Deneve's eyes closed, her breathing light and controlled as she slumbered. Helen's hand was now flying through the air racing to its target.
"I think I'll go help Clare." Deneve stated plainly as she quickly rose to her feet and side stepped Helen's slap. Helen's joyous expression tanked as she saw a faint smile etch across Deneve's face. It was adding insult to what was now going to be injury as Helen's hand traveled through the air and smacked against the back of the pew in front of her. Deneve didn't even open her eyes as she stood and parried her rival's prank.
"Son of a bitch!" Helen screamed in pain as her hand throbbed from the impact.
Clare had just placed her hand against the door as she turned around to see Helen's prank backfire. Whether Helen intended it or not she had given Clare and everyone else a break from the turmoil around them. It was a momentary relief to laugh again and completely necessary at that. But all that joy came to violent halt as that dream flashed before Clare again. Her heart rate became erratic as she looked at the scene before her. The already dim light in the cathedral grew darker and that same cold feeling of dread enveloped her as all her friends were now sitting in the exact same positions as those that fell in Pieta. Five of them, all sitting in the pews and Miria on the pulpit. Flashes of the dream cropped up in her mind, all their torn faces and pain were as real and terrifying as ever.
Clare's legs became weak, she had to get out of there now. With what little strength remained in her she quickly shoved the door open and was relieved by fresh air and the morning sun. She drew a deep breath and felt the strength within in her returning slowly and steadily.
"Clare, are you alright?" a voice came from the bottom of the steps leading up to the cathedral. Clare recognized who it belonged to but as her eyes looked towards the speaker something inside of her shattered.
It was him, how could he be here? What….what happened? Before Clare was a blood covered murderer. Malice wrapped his thoughts and hate filled his eyes as he stared at her. His hair was slick and stained with blood, his jaw tight and closed with anger. His hands were balled into fist and covered in dried crusted blood. Clare stood in absolute fear before him, not afraid of him but for him, for what he had become. This was not who she remembered, this is not what she is fighting for. Clare's heart sank with her knees as she fell to the ground.
"YOU PROMISED ME!" Raki roared nearly deafening Clare. The immense volume shook her entire body making her head and stomach swim. The pain made her choke and gag as she sat there helpless on her knees. A searing pain traveled up her spine and slammed into the back of her skull. It was as if someone had placed a scorching hot brand against her brain. Clare quickly wrapped her hands around her head and yelled in pain as the plate burned even hotter against her cooking flesh. Her vision was beginning to fade and her mouth and throat became barren and dry. All their accusing voices replayed through her mind like a broken record. Each one of those faces, each person those grave markers belong to spat in her face with blame of their death.
Clare looked up and suddenly Raki was gone and replaced by Father Vincent. He quickly ascended the steps to aid her. Clare began to choke and cough violently. She could feel the warm blood splash against her tongue and teeth before it splattered against her glove covered hands. Something was different though, her blood appeared darker as if it had a greater mix of purple within it.
"Clare!" Father Vincent exclaimed as he kneeled down next to her trying to support her. He looked through the open cathedral gate and saw her friends gathered inside. "Someone help!" He yelled arresting the attention of everyone inside the church.
Clare was still violently coughing as Deneve was the first to arrive to her aid. "What happened?"
"I'm not sure, she just started coughing up her blood just as she walked out. Dear lord…" Vincent's face looked as if death itself had taken his soul. "…Her eyes."
Deneve quickly grabbed Vincent and violently shoved him away from Clare. Chills ran down her body as she saw Clare's eyes change to gold. "Clare what's going on," Clare couldn't get a word out edge wise as she continued to hack up blood. "Miria! Get over here now!" Deneve barked.
Within a second she was there and realized what was happening. "Damn it!" Miria cursed, "She is losing control, Deneve get back!" Just as the words reached Deneve's ears Clare's Yoki erupted. The immense force slammed both Miria and Deneve against the cathedral walls making small impact craters as they crashed.
Clare was now screaming in pure rage as her Yoki went out of control. Blinding light shot in every direction around her and accelerated skyward to the heavens like a beacon to everyone on the island. The air hissed and sizzled from the heat emitting from her and the ground began to cook as her body gave into its other half.
"Clare!" Yuma yelled as she rushed in front of friend trying to save her from herself. "Clare you have to fight it!" It was a duel of will more or less. Both Clare and Yuma were on their knees in front of each other both fighting for control. "Clare, look at me! Look at what you are doing!" Yuma screamed as loud as she could as gale force winds swirled around them.
Nothing was happening. Clare's bones and joints cracked and contorted as her human form began to deteriorate. Sharp metallic tendrils erupted from her sides and snaked around her body as that same form from seven years ago began to take shape.
"Get away from me Yuma!" Clare growled. She ignored the obvious threat in front of her and began to sync her yoki with Clare's trying to reverse her transformation. But her focus was derailed as a sharp pain erupted from her left side. One of Clare's tendrils from her right arm dug into her left side. The sting from her injury became nearly unbearable as Clare's tendril dug further, twisting with every millimeter of flesh it carved.
"Clare!" Yuma screamed with all that was within her as she took both hands and firmly grabbed Clare's head. Yuma put everything she had into her, tears began to flow from her eyes and blood spilled from her lips. She struggled to bring her back to the other side, but it wasn't working, it was almost as if Clare didn't want to return, she was content with being buried in her anger and hate.
The intense pain and anguish pushed Yuma's body on the verge of collapse. She had reached her limit both mentally and physically. In a violent release she spat and coughed up all the blood that had begun to fill her lungs from the stabbing wound in her side. The red life-filled fluid splashed against Clare's golden eyes and jagged jaw line.
All Clare could see in her fractured mind were those faces. Each one taking a tear at her soul. She saw her friends and the ones she loved, she looked upon their faces and saw the torment wrecking their spirits as well. Clare tried to reach out and touch them but as she extended her arms all her eyes could see were those claws that belonged to her awakened side.
Her anger violently propelled upwards when they appeared though. Everyone she blamed for all the hurt and agony that she had been unfairly subjected to. Every piece of worthless, shitty excuse for a human being that she had been endlessly harassed and berated by within the organization spewed forth inside her head. They took everything from her, and now as she looks right in front of her at this dying friend, Clare sees what they make you give.
Then something deep in the reaches of Clare's mind sparked. The warm blood that now trickles down her face is strangely familiar. It had happened before, blood covered, speechless, and afraid. Where was it? Clare thought as she continued to struggle with her memories. It was nearly impossible to pull up all those forgotten images from long ago, but all they needed was the right catalyst.
It was that day she had been freed, she stood in the middle of the village. Everyone stood horrified as the people around them showed their true colors and took their Yoma form. And the last one to fall left Clare drenched with its blood, slowly trickling down her face. That's when she saw her and her faint smile.
Raki sat there slumped against the tree. He wasn't sure how long it had been since Alyssa had continued her march to her next assignment, and he didn't much care. All he knew is that she had left long enough ago for the flies and birds of the sky to take notice of the bodies around him. It wouldn't be long until the mid-day sun started to make the bodies stink as well.
He couldn't stand being around them any longer and with little regret he stood to his feet ready to leave. As he looked around at the bodies and caravan he spotted a small pond not far from the slain child. Raki carefully maneuvered around the corpses being sure not to stand on any of them as he made his way to the water.
It was completely still and glassy as he kneeled before the water. Raki's hands began to tremble as he looked at the other man in the reflection below him. Disbelief filled his soul as his hands searched his face only to confirm that it was indeed himself that he was looking at. The loud squawk of a nearby raven alerted Raki. He quickly looked left and right for anyone else who may have happened upon this massacre around him. His search yielded no results and comfortable that he was alone he dipped his hands in the pool washing his face of blood.
Raki let out a deep sigh as his eyes searched the skies above him. He swung his head low and rotated it letting it pop and crack. But as he looked down at the dying ripples in the pond he saw him. He saw that kid from seven years ago staring right back at him. Fear wrenched and torqued raki's heart as he looked silently as this child he once knew.
"Who are you, and where is Raki!?" the little boy asked accusingly.
"I…I don't know…" Raki replied. He saw that young boy he used to be looking at him with disgust, like some stranger who only meant him harm.
"Where is Clare, What have you done to her!?" The kid was now furious as he glared back at Raki.
"Christ! I don't know! I told you that already!" Raki screamed back.
He remembered her, every detail of Clare still imprinted in his mind. Above all else he could recall her voice. She said few words during their short time together but Raki held each one close, playing them over and over again in his head. Her last words were like a double edge blade, acting as a source of hope that they would see each other again and a fear that they day may not happen in this life.
A single tear dropped from his cheek onto the boy below as Raki remembered his dear friend. The small drop splashed against the water bringing Raki's gaze back to the kid looking back at him. "I will find her." Raki assured himself, "If I have to tear apart this entire God damn island I will." His confidence quickly evaporated as blood began to fill the small pond. The bandit's blood next to him had finally crept its way to the pond slowly trickling in. The blood washed over his reflection and with it the young boy disappeared leaving only a bloodied and hate filled killer "And kill anyone who tries to stop me from getting to you."
The familiar sound of metallic marching quickly brought Raki to his feet. Another Claymore was nearby making her way along the highway. Raki stood cautiously behind a tree and waited for her to get closer. He could hear another set of steps in stride with the Claymore's. Raki quickly calculated their distance and slowly walked out on the bloodied highway raising his hands in the air as he did. It gave them enough time a distance to clearly see him on their approach.
He could see the two of them as they rounded the bend in the road. One claymore walking slightly behind another man. His body and face were cloaked revealing only his eyes. The sight of the massacre around them did not alarm either of them as they continued to near Raki, this made him uneasy.
"Please I need help, I mean you no harm." Raki called out as they walked closer. Both of their eyes shot at his own almost as if examining him.
"What happened here?" The cloaked man asked pointing to the bodies around them.
"Bandits attacked this group and I intervened, all too late though." Raki stated disappointedly.
"And how do we know you are not a bandit yourself?" The claymore asked grabbing the hilt of her blade.
"Why would I stay here like this if I was trying to steal from them?" Raki returned back addressing his blood covered clothes and bloodied knuckles.
"So why are you still here?" The cloaked man questioned with peaked interest.
"I am looking for a claymore. Clare, number forty-seven." Raki stated lowering his hands. The claymore shot a quick glance over at the cloaked man as if seeking permission to do something. The man raised his hand almost as if to assure her. Raki was becoming a little concerned, he may have overstepped with his questions.
"I am Ermita and this is Raftela number ten." Ermita bowed ever so slightly as he introduced himself. "I know of this Clare you are searching for, but it has been many years since I have seen her, why are you looking for her?"
"She is a dear friend, I owe her my life. If it takes a lifetime of searching I will do so to find her." Raki said sternly.
"An absolute resolve, you must-." Ermita's words were cut short by a nearly blinding light just behind Raki. Raki quickly turned to witness whatever it was himself.
Very far away an enormous blue pillar of light raced to the heavens illuminating the entire island. Raki looked to his left to the northern mountain range and knew for certain that the light was coming from the heart of the island, Rabona. His heart raced as he remembered seeing this before, seven years ago in Pieta he saw that same light.