ok, I am uploading this chapter (I really really don't like it, but it had to be written. So no Gruvia moments in it, that will start developing in the next chapter and then following. Also, the reason for the opening scene is to help start indicating that Juvia really is not all there in the head. This will become clearer later on.
Scared couldn't even amount to what she felt. Terrified did not work either.
Bodies swung across her vision, hanging, chained, limbs missing, faces blurred, unless mauled. Screams pierced her ears and rang underneath her skull. A few times, there was the sudden touch of a phantom hand brushing past the privacy barriers of her body, and a hot salty taste lingered on her tongue. Juvia was of the mindset to call it blood.
Not blood.
Tears. From tear ducts she had been trying to stopper, but apparently had left running on full. She wouldn't even have noticed without the stream that she constantly kept swallowing. The flush of her face had left the skin cold and numb. The numbness was possibly something to worry about, except for two factors: one, it turned out to be a natural consequence of her poor blood circulation; and two, there were much more pressing matters to deal with at the moment.
Such as all the chaos flying around her head, breathing (as she was continuously forgetting), and of course, what was to come. Cana did not know it, but she had already subjected Juvia to the worst torture possible, with the silent foreboding march.
The drunk, not drunk, interrogator led through another door to a hallway farther back in the building. Juvia followed on her heels, gaze straight, bones rigid.
An onslaught of fresh screams and mangled corpses in the most ancient of punishment devices met her eyes. It looked like someone had raided the sixteenth century dungeons and crossed them with the old western gallows. And as she took it all in, disbelief pounded on her head with the force of a hammer.
Don't look at it! Don't believe it! It's an illusion.
She understood well enough; nevertheless struggled.
At moments the scenes would clear, leaving a clean wide tiled corridor, lined with a smattering of metal doors. These moments provided a brief startle, quickly turned to relief, before the gruesome scenes would return. And then, she'd skitter around the carnage, the indistinctive people, but not people, littered across the floor, while Cana pretended not to notice. For her part, Cana did not squirm or step aside, never even glanced at the displays.
At times she walked straight through them, her legs kicking right into the mess of limbs. It was witnessing this, and the fact that Juvia knew her mind well enough, that she recognized the truth.
None of it was real.
Damn her imagination, seeping in to intoxicate her steamed brain. These were fake bodies and voices, because, because….she did not have a clue of what an interrogation involved, so somehow, the big cloud behind her eyes had stuck its hand into the slop of television and books she had seen, and conjured up the worst. This apparently involved a combination of a medieval society and cowboy lifestyle; something of a past life, if it had to come from anywhere.
But the visuals felt so real, so horrifyingly real enough that she couldn't even walk through without hearing the squelching, feeling the slickness, and tripping over air.
Cana must have noticed she'd turned to putty in the last few minutes, yet didn't say anything. Reiterated; it was the purest form of torture Juvia could have received. Her mind, never quite in the line of sanity, was ripping itself to shreds. Or so she thought; the hallucinations had never been so vivid before, and it seemed entirely plausible to expect permanent damage at some point.
The panic of not knowing left her wishing for the real pain.
Simply waiting had turned into the worst part, but Juvia's steps faltered as her legs almost went down, overcome with the disturbing thought. What the hell had happened to her? She wanted Cana to begin, whatever was planned.
Her lunacy had hit the top of levee. She desperately threw a few more sandbags on top, hoping it would be enough to keep the
At the very end of the hall, Cana swung right, violently booting aside the left wall's metal door. It banged like a warning bell.
Also, like the gong to awaken one from hypnosis. Juvia felt herself being pulled through the rush of a flood, ending in the instant vanish of fake screams and swinging victims. She stood there wet, staring back at the empty hall, holding a breath until fully certain the episode had finished.
She didn't need to wait; the feeling of reality had been there the second the door and wall met.
It left her and Cana at the foot of a room modeled after police station's holding area, with prison blue walls, a mirror that doubtlessly was a one sided window, on the right hand wall, a slim table, and a few chairs.
The one oddity: a bottle of unopened wine stood directly in the table's center. Cana laughed and went straight for it, choke holding its neck and biting out the cork, as Juvia stepped inside, leaving the door open. Surprisingly, Cana hardly seemed to care.
"That Gray, I'll tell ya, he's a real charmer ain't he?" The whole sentence was lost on Juvia. "Texted ahead of time and got something for me to drink. Can't believe he's doing this all for a girl."
Juvia tried to piece it together, and came to one conclusion. Perhaps these people knew better how to shatter her than credited. She hadn't quite thought Cana was keeping silent on purpose, but if Gray was rubbing salt on her wounds then it could be possible. Still, they couldn't do anything compared to what she had just witnessed in illusion, and that returned a little of the courage she'd lost.
"Interrogations usually aren't good dates. Miss Cana."
She stood right next to the open door, wondering if there was any chance to run. She wouldn't. Cowardice had always been default, but that didn't stop her from thinking about it. They'd be on her in a second, especially if someone was on the other side of that mirrored window.
"Haha, I meant for Lucy." Cana belted out, grabbing a knee and snorting, bent at her waist to throw the other arm over her gut. "Sorry to disappoint your hopes of getting some dirty romance. Though, if that's what you're looking for I could probably get some hooks out there."
Two seconds passed, as Juvia processed the extremely forward insinuation, forgetting everything else that had been passing through her thoughts. And then, she twitched.
Niagara Falls couldn't beat the pounding on Juvia's chest, the flash flicker of naughty images of Gray in the roles of every dark brooding male television character she'd ever seen. Oh, gosh, how pornographic the brain could be at times, putting reason after sex appeal.
"No, no, no!" Juvia cried out, hands clutching her heated face, pressing for the button that off switch. "That's not appropriate."
"Hmm? De-nial honey, it ain't just a river in Egypt." Cana laughed again.
Off. Off. Off. Juvia finally found the trick. A little remembrance of sitting with Sol and watching one of the soap operas wormed into the array and the screen blanked.
"Gray shot my friends." Juvia told herself out loud, gripping the words in case she needed to build up a wall again later. She needed to keep focused on not giving into these people: to Cana, to whoever was behind that wall.
Silence went between them, enough time for another drink.
When she checked, Cana had the wine bottle a little more than three quarters empty. She caught Juvia staring, and grinned.
"Come load a seat so we'll get to business. I think I'll like you, so you can even take a swig."
Hesitantly, Juvia took the seat, but not a sip. Of course Cana had already proved it wasn't some sort of drug, but it was neither the sort of remedy she needed. The only real remedy would have been freedom, and clean memory swipe for the last few years of her life. Not that she'd get either.
"No thanks, Juvia drinks only to celebrate." She grasped onto the courage she had left, keeping close, keeping it tight. Her eyes drifted back to the now deserted hallway, reassuring herself she could withstand this nightmare too. It would be over at some point.
"You're missing out then, but it was a small bottle, so I'm not that partial on sharing this time."
Cana's voice drew her back. The brunette shrugged, bottle less than half full.
"So, let's just start off easy. What can you tell me about those ghosts of yours?"
For a moment, Juvia panicked. Mistaking the 'ghosts' as referring to her nightmare, she'd thought the vision earlier had been somehow induced. No. That was not the case. Juvia knew her mind often went astray, notably with less severity, but she'd felt that hallucination originate from herself, even if unconscious of it at the time. She almost slapped her cheek for getting so worked over.
It then hit. Cana had been referring to Phantom Lord, too which there still was no easy response.
"Nothing. Juvia never worked with Phantom Lord."
"Liar, those books are your code."
"Juvia did that for Sol, Totomaru and Aria. They were not as well organized." Cana smirked, at the answer, and then surprised Juvia with both the hard tone and soft words of her next question.
"You're loyal to them aren't you?" Juvia could only think to nod, and then Cana added, "Not Phantom Lord though."
How Cana read through her so thoroughly left Juvia stiff. She opened her mouth to instinctually refute the claim, and fell speechless. Was it a secret? And was she even decided on the matter? She made the decision a while ago, without drawing lines. And now came the truth that she didn't know much about the Phantoms aside from the book records. Well, she knew one other thing, but it was a topic she had purposefully ignored until now. She had done that to avoid making the really hard choice.
Was she really going to be mindful for only her roommates? They were the easiest and most obvious choices. They'd been friends. She owed it to them. Not to the Phantom crest.
It had been unavoidable, and at first it seemed a betrayal to give up the little information about Phantom Lord that she had learned while taking records. Names. And addresses. The ones in the records were business partners, but taking trips with Sol to warehouses to inventory stock and by simply living in that apartment, Juvia had found out about a few other members. Perhaps they were no more than underlings, but then again she was not even on the list. Nor did she owe these men and women any courtesy.
Most would have given the names up; let Fairy Tail take someone else in their stead.
She stalled. "Juvia will not deny that her roommates were a part of the syndicate."
The names and faces were bouncing around her mind clear as glass; and then she'd call them to her lips only to let the letters scramble and fade. As soon as Fairy Tail heard, they'd surely go after these people; people Juvia herself did not even know. Maybe a passing here and there, but never a conversation.
Where did she get the right to essentially place them on death row?
"Yeah, the syndicate that's going to cut that lovely, teensy neck of yours the moment you leave. Think of that yet?"
Juvia hadn't. She had expected to be swept straight into the current that had taken her roommates.
Cana continued. "How about a deal? For some Fairy Tail protection, unless, Phantom Lord really is your Daddy. We'll talk about the kidnapping of Lucy, of which your friends conspired, and other projects. You just have to openly answer my questions."
No matter what Juvia had replied, that's how it went for the next conversations. There was no deal, just a forceful assault of questions.
Cana described, and played storyteller for what must have been the Brothers Grimm collection. Every time the brunette opened her mouth, Juvia expected to crack a little more. The tales were horrifying, about the way the blond girl from the prior room had been held and treated savagely by her roommates, how Sol handled business mix ups with bullets and Aria's murderous fists. She'd known they lived differently outside the apartment, but never before been so grateful for the barrier between work and home.
Yet, Juvia thought she understood why. The last hours were enough proof; the weak did not survive in these areas. That guilt and pity surfaced every time Cana made an accusation, or demanded information on some subject or another. Juvia only complied with a few questions about Phantom Lord's business partners, nothing left her lips about her roommates. And, because she couldn't shoulder the guilt of any more deaths, neither did she mutter a word about the others.
The night rolled on, though Juvia had no track of time, and Cana's patience waned. Finally, the drunken behavior showed. The brunette yelled, slammed the table, broke her bottle and waved glass shards in Juvia's face. Juvia was ready to take it, whenever, the hits came. She still felt the strings of responsibility sewn through her mouth.
However, it never did. Eventually, Cana withdrew, a shrew comment that she knew a person who put themselves on the deathbed when she saw them. Juvia nodded, half in acknowledgment, half in agreement.
"Your room mates hurt and abused innocent people. Last thing they did was attempt to sell the death of our newest member, back to the father that wanted her silenced. That really sound like people worth protecting to you?" Cana spit.
It didn't. Sol, Totomaru, and Aria must have operated as Jekyll and Hides' offspring. So how could she protect one, without also supporting the other?
"You lived with them, that makes you the same."
Rejections one by one died behind her lips. Cana had nailed it on the head, she truly did feel dead. In this room the truth had flipped. Wrong became right, and right, wrong. If the stories were true, Phantom Lord deserved nothing. And still, she could not bring herself to be the one to sentence another person. Not someone she never met.
She kept silent. Cana already had the books, enough of a trade if any.
"Whatever, this is boring now. Stand up and let's finish this, I want to get another drink."
Juvia obliged.
"Now strip." There was no amusement in Cana's tone. "Just checkin' that you're not hidin' any ink under that gaudy eighteenth century dress. If I find a Phantom Lord tattoo, your whole story goes in the trash. Now, come on, don't be shy!"
Her stomach went queasy, wanting to vomit, her eyes flicked back to window. Cana still never indicated if anyone was watching. Juvia knew better than to ask; she had been eyeing the thing constantly anyways. Whoever was back there (it felt like there must have been a crowd, though that was probably just paranoia) would be getting a free show. The last demoralization to the day. It almost felt fitting.
Juvia's fingers fumbled on the top button of her coat, wondering if she could actually obey.
"What? Haven't you been naked in front of men before? Geez girl, I'm only a woman, there's nothing new about our bodies."
"No. Juvia does not show herself like that…."
Stunned silence stopped Cana's face. And then, she grinned for the first time in what must have been hours.
"What, you're a virgin or got an ugly birth defect or something?"
"No." Juvia told her.
"No what?" Juvia kept silent. "Spill!"
"None of that. Juvia's just shy." Cana asked again how the hell a pretty girl like Juvia lived in these seedy areas and didn't romp with sex. Juvia just looked toward the wall, undressing. Cana went through the search, even combing Juvia's hair, statin someone had once shaved their head to hide a tattoo on their scalp.
Juvia couldn't remember much, somewhere in the middle of everything, the swell of events and emotions finally overwhelmed her. She knew what would happen when her vision swam, but as the blackness came, there was only a sense of relief.
A year ago, two years after moving into the apartment near Oak Park, a month after the start of all of the record keeping, Aria presented Juvia a key to his bookstore. There wasn't much friendliness in the action, the fact made crystal clear that the key should be used singularly for work purposes, and subsequently enforced when she later tried to sneak a peek.
Aria kept some other files in his backroom, which were never to leave the store's premise. Sol and Totomaru agreed that a key would be the best way for Juvia to complete the work on her own time.
She couldn't be any more grateful for the gift now.
Waking up in the rain, on one of Oak Park's splintery benches, had been baffling. She had expected heaven, the reincarnation line, Nirvana or limbo. Somehow, the reaper or Buddhist had seemed to have forgotten her dead soul on Earth. It meant the work, and as always, the rain, continued.
There was a small nagging question about why she was alive, though this was better left alone. There was no going back to that club headquarters to ask. One release was borrowed luck already.
At that moment, there was no indication of the time. Perhaps someone had found her messy roommates, or the bodies still waited for her to return. She couldn't go back. Not to where she'd be reminded of her mistake, and where her life was in threat. It would be better to just runaway. The other tenants could take her belongings, there was perhaps about three grand in her bank to get herself a bus ticket, new clothes, and settled in some far away city. She could plan it all out in Aria's bookstore.
So she headed there.
The clock outside the small bank read ten- twelve, the date one number higher than she last remembered, meaning Fairy Tail could have placed her on the bench anytime since the night before, dumped in the park to dissolve and rot. She wondered if it showed on her. Had other people been out in the streets, would they have known what she'd been through? Were the murders already headlines in the papers or were they kept under wraps, like most other gang related news? That's all the cops appeared capable of doing in this city, limiting the press.
The key was kept in a safe hidden behind the store's brick building, something she had never quite understood as it was supposedly her key. Now, she thought she knew better, how Aria probably thought it would be a risk to both her and his store. Apparently, those records had been a liability.
Juvia immediately let the ease of routine take over, as if she were there to organize some files. The familiar musty smell of brown pages crumbling to dust in ancient books (that no one ever really bought) was like a herbal remedy. She left the lights off, skimming between the shelves toward the backroom. Somehow, today it felt more pertinent than ever that no one realize she was inside.
She did have three bodies back home in her apartment, and who knew how the police, though usually ineffective, or other gangs were reacting.
Too soon, he fears proved true. Maybe she had a second of hesitation before placing a hand over the old brass handle, Juvia would never remember and at the time, her nerves were so sluggish she ignored it. It was too late by the time she had the back door swinging opening.
Her hand ticked the backroom's switch, dingy yellow light flooding the room, bouncing off the dark book shelf lined walls, the oak table in the center, and…. the line of standing bodies in the back.
All stood calm and the vague hopes Juvia had for running evaporated in heat wave of steam.
Ok, my head is fried, time to go outside or something.